Wyatt awoke to the sound of screaming. He struggled to move his body, his arms and legs resisting. The sound continued, and he realized it was the sound of crying. A horrifying wail that tore at his soul. Light danced on the ceiling over and over, and he tried again to move.
When he was able to sit up, Wyatt saw Marlene holding her unmoving son. The mother was sending wave after wave of healing energy into him as she cried out for him to open his eyes.
Wyatt looked around for Margie, but she was nowhere to be seen. She must not have made it into the tower. Finally, he looked to the ground beside him, and immediately wished he hadn’t.
There, as still as her brother, was Cecilia.
Arrows protruded from her back. Arrows, he realized in horror, meant for him. It should have been him that died in that attack, but he had stupidly put her on his back instead of carrying her in his arms. The girl died in his place, a girl who should never have been in a situation like that.
The crying had stopped, and Wyatt looked up to see Marlene holding her child to her chest, rocking back and forth. She was whispering something, but Wyatt couldn’t hear what it was.
She set the boy down on the ground beside her still whispering but slightly louder. Wyatt finally heard what she was saying, “We’ll be a family again, just as soon as I wake up from this.” She reached into the backpack lying on the ground beside her and withdrew a knife.
Wyatt stared in horror as the grieving mother cut her own throat.
“NO!” he heard a voice yell as he willed his body to move, crawling to the bleeding woman. Her mouth was moving but no sound came out, and Wyatt knew she was repeating what she had before.
When he reached her, he grabbed the blue cloak she still wore, and pressed it to her neck, trying to stop the bleeding.
“No, no, no,” he repeated, over and over as he tried to save her. “Heal yourself, Marlene. Please. Don’t leave me alone here.” He begged. Over and over, he begged as he could feel the life drain from her, as tears fell from his eyes. She refused to listen, didn’t even see the young man before her, wanting nothing more than for the nightmare to end.
Then, Wyatt placed one hand on her head, keeping the other over the cloak on her throat. He channeled enchantment magic into them, trying to will her to do as he said, willing her to heal herself. He felt the rush of his mana enter her mind, and he pushed everything he had left into it, refusing to let her die.
But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough, it seemed, as his mind replayed the deaths of everyone else. Wyatt was too weak, in every account there was nothing he could do to save his friends. They had died so he could save these people, this family, and he failed.
Marlene died in his arms, a serene smile on her face.
Wyatt pulled back from the woman, closing her eyes. He placed the body of her child in her lap. He stood shakily and walked over to Cecilia, pulling the arrows out of her back, and placed her at her mother’s side, letting the family rest in peace together.
He grabbed Marlene’s cloak, and was going to cover the family with it, but noticed it had changed. It was no longer blue, and the blood had vanished. Instead, the entire cloak was a deep purple. The metal brooch contained symbols that weren’t there before, painted in all black. At the bottom of the circular brooch was the image of a squat tower, reminiscent of the tower Wyatt now found himself in. A grinning black skull hung above the tower like a twisted image of the moon. Wyatt analyzed it.
Name:
Cloak of Dimension Storage [Legendary]
Durability:
100/100
Requirements:
Race – Human
Soulbound
Description:
Once a simple enchanted cloak, this garment has been infused with the last vestiges of life of a dying race.
Enchantment:
This cloak can open into a trans-dimensional space in which items can be stored. Items can be placed or removed while wearing the cloak at the cost of mana, dependent on the size of the object.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
This cloak had gone from basic to legendary and would be insanely useful. Wyatt, however, only thought of one thing.
“Last vestiges of a dying race,” he whispered. He opened his notifications again, hoping the flavor text was just there for added effect.
Combat Report
Your party has slain:
High Elf Fighter x2
Your party has escaped:
High Elf Platoon
Rewards:
Experience earned
Your class has leveled up: Mage – Level 5
Your class has leveled up: Mage – Level 6
You have gained Attribute Points
Your skill has leveled up:
Air Magic – Level 3
Air Magic – Level 4
Enchantment Magic – Level 6
You have gained a new skill:
Spatial Magic – Level 1
New Quest:
Dungeon of the Earth Lord
Conditions:
Clear all challenges to awaken the Earth Lord
Rewards:
Experience, Title, Crown of the Earth Lord
Description:
This dungeon was created for the denizens of a newly integrated world. Clear all challenges within the dungeon to unlock the exit.
New Title Unlock:
Last of Your Kind
Wyatt just stared at the last notification. Last of your Kind. He was frozen in place and waited several long minutes before finally opening his menu and reading the description.
Title:
Last of Your Kind
Description:
Through the intervention of another, your race has become extinct. As the sole survivor of the human race, you carry within you the collective dreams and knowledge of your people. May you have vengeance on the one responsible. Provides two additional free attribute points per level.
It’s true. Wyatt thought, reading the description over and over again. Everyone is gone.
For once, his mind did not race. He simply stared at the prompt. He did not know how long he sat there, or even when he had sat down.
His family was gone, his parents, his sister, his friends, his neighbors, his teachers. Everyone. The last few days had been difficult, but through it all Wyatt had held out hope that his family had survived, that there was someone out there he could find. He never even considered that everyone would die.
Everyone.
He was alone.
Wyatt sat there on the cold stone ground for hours, the description of his new title still open and in front of him. He was numb. He held the purple cloak in his hands like a lifeline to his past; the bodies of the mother and her children still exposed a few feet from where he was. He didn’t want to cover them; he didn’t want to leave them. He knew it would be the last time he ever laid eyes on another human ever again.
When they first met, Marlene joked about how he shouldn’t have kids. Wyatt had laughed, always assuming he wouldn’t have any. Then he had gotten to know those kids. Isaac was remarkably smart for someone so young, and the fiery attitude that Cecilia always had was impossible to contain. Now, however, the choice of having his own family had been taken from him.
He had known them for barely a week. And he had failed them at every turn.
He thought of Richard, the father, willing to give his life fighting the troll. He thought of how he had failed to grasp the mind of that monster, and Richard had paid the price for Wyatt’s weakness.
Wyatt stood abruptly, turned, and punched the stone wall behind him. His knuckles burst open, blood marking the wall.
He thought of Isaac, whom the system had given a shield spell to in recognition of the kind of man he would become. Should have become. Wyatt had failed him when he didn’t react in time to stop the snake.
He punched the wall.
He thought of Cecilia, quick to make fun of her brother, and quicker still to defend him. He had put her on his back when she couldn’t continue, and she had taken the arrows meant for him.
He punched the wall.
He thought of Marlene. He watched her struggle to save her lost child, barely feet from the other. Watched as this world had taken everything from her, leaving her broken. He watched as she ended her own life.
He punched the wall.
He thought of the rest. Margie, Brad, Angela, Chuck, Jesse. He had failed them all.
He punched the wall and screamed in rage. Screamed until his voice was as broken as his bloodied fists.
Then, he built up his mana. More than he had ever built. His chest ached at the strain, and he built up more. His nose began to bleed, and he built up more. Every muscle in his body felt the pain of his mana flowing to his hands, every drop, until his mana bar read empty.
With one last yell, one last punch, Wyatt sent his magic into the ground.
The world began to tremble, then split, as the ground around Marlene, Isaac, and Cecilia came up and surrounded their bodies, enclosing them in a mound of brick and stone. With a final push, the mound was forced down, deep into the ground, and the last spark of humanity was buried in the cold embrace of earth, the only marker for their grave his blood staining the wall.
Wyatt, broken and bloodied, spared one more look at the prompt before him. He closed the window and turned towards the door leading further into the dungeon. With his voice now hoarse, he growled the words in his title that would be burned in his mind.
“May you have vengeance...”