I see death.
By the time I would have escaped to the other side of paradise, I thought all of Arkanoth would have changed. The people would be happy, the drugs would be gone, violence would have blossomed into sweet kindness and trees would ornate the streets of District Z, smiling to Netema and turning the infected soil outside into verdant meadows brimming with life.
Instead I hear screams, mostly pleas of help, others reciting prayers or muttering names and demanding forgiveness for past sins.
I see blood hurling from the sky down to a velvet river of arms, legs, and mashed corpses. I see scared murderers, crying thiefs, desperate conmen and even horrified rapists flailing around, wailing in apprehension of the inescapable.
I no longer smell the ever-lasting flakes of charcoal, instead I am assaulted by the smell of iron, swallowing whole the faint scent of piss that never left me ever since I first came to this fake paradise.
Do they deserve such an end? They're all criminals, the scum of society. They're the faces I was locked up with. I laughed with them, mocked some and even despised others for their mischiefs. I don't think they deserve this.
Not when I'm still standing.
I desperately look around, my legs like stone gargoyles, frozen under the rays of sunshine announcing a new dawn.
My eyes lock with old man, my master. He firmly looks at me, then nods. Suddenly, I feel light and my legs start running instinctively. I feel the wind pushing me forward. It's all because of me, I've caused this. I must fix it.
I run toward the monster; it is a grim-looking creature of both metal and flesh; crimson, venous bulbs pulsate all across iron machinery that lets ominous steam escape from long pipes covered in red mash. It stands on four metallic legs, its numerous eyes scanning us with gluttony as saliva droops down from its yellowish fangs and fresh blood rests on its long, dark fur. A single swing from its forelegs would bring a dozen of convicts down, adding to the velvet river.
I am tired of this. Everywhere I go, death breaths down my neck, is it fate? Then fate is unfair, I don't want this life, I want to run away, far away from everything. Far enough so that fate can't catch up to me; not my responsabilities, not the people who despise what I am, nor the Sinless or that horror. But I can't do that, so instead I keep my head up, and I'll fight if it's the last thing I must do. I'll fight for my dream, that of one day being free.
I hop between faces I knew and laughed with. The monster is rampaging as fiercely as the first minute it has arrived - no matter the brave escapees attempting to harm it, not even a single scratch covers its body. But I don't get discouraged, I won't lose.
A leg crashes down just in front of me, fragments of muddied dirt splitting the air and splashing my face, the cold awakes my instincts to a new realm. I don't stop, instead jumping and running on its leg, my goal its head.
While I run toward my goal, I tear off a steaming pipe, making the creature howl in pain as a glove of wind forms in my hand, protecting me from the heat of the scorching reddish metal. A paw hurls down on me, the wind surrounding me suddenly pushes me in the air, invisible clouds forming below my feet, granting me flight.
I see everything: the amazed faces of the stunned escapees; the hainous glare from the beast; how I will end that battle.
I hold my makeshift weapon with both hands, from the side of my eye I see master running to support me. I am a dozen of meters above the beast's humungous jaw; from this close up I see details that were once invisible, one of them the gathering of pipes down its metallic throat.
Right before I land, the beast opens its jaw, the pipes inside starting ablaze; I hear master cry out, then the maw snaps shut as strong gales shortly appear to the naked eyes.
I crash down its head, using my momentum to impale it with my homemade spear. A gut-wrenching howl rips out the air, the Warden falling to its demise. A cloud of particles burdened by the weight of blood brightened the sky, illuminating the rising dawn of a crimson firework, a wry celebration of our victory.
I remained atop its head, trying to catch my breath, I looked at the first rays of light, promise of a second try at life. I gotta celebrate that! thinking that, I jumped to the ground, looking for master.
My eyes stopped on a sprawled elder. "Master!" I cried as I ran to his aid.
"looks like I'm not so young anymore. Can't even show off a little without losing my breath..." he chuckled, the laugh coming out as a bad lure to lighten the situation.
I looked at him, terrified, how? Is it because he helped me? Was it because of me?
He saw the pain in my eyes, and reassured me right away, "don't worry about me, I had it coming, and it's not like it's your fault. I chose this path, simple as that, either you survived or we became this monstrosity's dinner."
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
I saw his breaths become scarcer as time went on, I wanted to tell him to use his powers to breathe, but whenever I tried to, my throat became an unmoving dam only my eyes ignored.
But he kept on speaking, telling me everything would be alright. In the end, he died, his last words a simple request: don't let the past shape your future.
"Wait, is that how it ends? You ally with the other prisoners and together ya'll kill the Warden or whatever? Ending sucks." the madman complained.
"Don't worry too much, the story hasn't ended yet."
"So it's still alive!" the madman rejoiced. "Then you can make it a good ending, not some cry-baby ending with the power of friendship!"
I chuckled. "The monster's dead, it's you I'm going to kill."
"And I'd like to know how you would do that, hunter. You gonna call back the power of friendship and gut me with it?" he scoffed.
"More like that," I said as I rocked my chair back and forth to kick him with both my legs, making him fall in pain and surprise.
"You fucker! You're a dead man!" He screamed in outrage.
I searched the room for a sharp enough object to cut my ties. At first glance there was nothing that could help me, but when looking at the floor, I could see a nail coming out of the ground. I rocked my chair until I fell close to the nail and tried to sever my binds. I was halfway through when my torturer got up, his fist surrounded by a raging fire.
"Now you don't get another chance," the man growled. "I really liked you better in the stories, you know. Although I appreciate your tenacity is as great as in the tales."
A final scratch ended the life of the rope binding me. I quickly got up, facing the enraged mage. From how he used his powers so far, I'd estimate he's a rank B-3, almost as strong as the Warden, and this time I don't have any power to fend him. "Whatever, I'll still kick his ass." I whispered to myself.
He launched at me, leaving a burnt trail in his wake. I tried to dodge, but he was too fast. His fist met my flesh, I felt my cheek crackle under the heat, my jaw ever so slightly dislocate from its place, and I was sent flying. Not as strong as him was all I could think of. It made me laugh.
"And you're in for another round of laughter. What is it this time?" he asked, somewhat irritated.
"You're weak," I smiled at his face in-between two gasps. I slowly got up, my legs shaking from the strain I was putting my body under.
He didn't wait for me to regain composure before attacking. This time I felt my skin explode under the heat of his fists, but I still tried to hit his jugular, which didn't seem to affect him.
"Don't you want this power!? You could be so much more! You're a disgrace to your title! You couldn't hunt a damn fly!" As he screamed, tears of sorrow were flowing from fire-man. Renewed with power from all his rage and ache, he went to punch me in the face, all trace of know-how gone along with his fist, now only blue, rotting fire.
The world went cold as I crouched to dodge his blow, countering with a kick to the diaphragm. I swiftly removed what was once my shoe, now just magma-hot rubber and metal.
He was a poor sight: his once grand flame was now dying, and I could see the bones of his left hand slowly turning to dust. "It's over."
He tried to say something, but only blood came out, the words drowned.
I twisted his neck, only stopping after hearing the characteristic crack. "I'm getting too old for this shit." I sighed in a low whisper, stretching my back to make all the pain go away, which only half worked.
"And I've come to save the day once again!" screamed a falsely joyful voice from above. With the voice came a man, and some debris from the roof. He stood proudly, ready to take out any menace daring him. "Wait, you already took care of the bastard? I wanted to vent all my pent up anger on him, not cool, man! Anyway, you know where our little scientist might have run to?"
"Void guy? So you came to save me, thanks. As for Leolio, I have no idea where he is. Think they killed him, we should hurry before it's us they kill."
"I see. Well then there's no can do if he's already dead. Hold tight to me, little guy!"
He gestured for me to hold tight. I complied as he jumped from floor to floor, passing by man-made holes. "How did you do that?"
"I crashed head-on. Why?"
"'...Nevermind." Looking down, I saw a trail of dark, lifeless bubbles, floating aimlessly in the god's wake.
With all the racket we were making I expected Tezcatlipoca to come and kill us, yet he never came. Maybe he already had his hands full with his conversation with Leolio, or what said the god of Void was true: there is a god even Tezcatlipoca fears. One ready to kill him were he to lay a hand on his protege.
When we arrived outside, pandemonium greeted me. Pools of immaculate Light decorated the streets, leaving ominous fumes and bubbling tar. Houses and other amenities were missing different parts, just like the corpses laying around did, a clear work of my savior. The most troubling sight was a corpse with a hole where his heart should have been while his head rested on a pool of light, its scalp setting ablaze and skin melting off, slowly heating the rest of the body.
"So you're alive!" rejoiced the god. I followed his gaze and saw something I wished was the corpse I just saw. Leolio stood straight, his gaze lost in the beyond, dried tears darkening his cheeks. His thick glasses were nowhere to be seen, as his smart-ass attitude was. "Hey, you hear me? Hey, little scientist, it's me! I came to save you!" he laughed, but Leolio chose to ignore him. Or was it he couldn't answer?
He looked... different. Like something inside him had broken. Did tezca use his power on him like he did to me? Then why not just killing him, to enjoy his suffering? But why, Tezcatlipoca didn't seem like the kind to let loose threats for his own pleasure. "The bastard doesn't even consider us a threat." I whispered in disbelief under my breath.
Of course, he proved himself stronger than us all, but we had a God who could hold his own against him and I unlocked magic, if I trained hard enough, surely I could attain a whole other realm of power. But would it be enough to kill him? Tezcatlipoca didn't think so.
"Well I don't care if you want to ignore me!" the God suddenly shouted. "Yep. That's right. I don't care, I'll simply bring you to the base and that's it." And that's what he did, he brought us back to the furniture-less square without saying a word, apparently grumping. I opened the secret stairway for him and only when we settled down did Leolio talk, his eyes still as sullen.
" We'll go in ten hours, I have a private plane hidden somewhere, and from what I've heard, you've killed the siblings, so it won't be a problem to exit this city."
"But... where will we go?" said the God, seemingly worried about the scientist's unusual attitude.
"To the lands of the gods."