It has been one day since I have been “born” into this spiteful world. My body seems to be working alright, no inconveniences, plus it’s feels so natural, it’s eery.

I know who “we” are, and I know what I am.

I am Duo, the dream and hopes of two pitiful souls.

I left the cave where we’re hiding from this cruel world, and I was walking slowly, in a carefree and relaxed pace, when I spotted him.

Everything He wore was black, his long coat, pants, the leather belt, shirt and even his big Western hat, and it hid half of his face in shadow, and the other half was hidden behind a black and red muffler. On the leather belt in his waist hang a black revolver with an unusually long revolver, the bullets were blood red, they smelled of death.

He was standing exactly one hundred feet away from me.

And the most unnatural thing about him was his sinister aura that had something comforting in it, heart soothing, holy even.

I could see those details due to my enhanced vision, why am I saying this, because even from this distance I could feel him staring directly into my eyes, my soul even, that how much strength and pressure his gaze emitted.

… And the funny thing is that I can’t even see his face, it’s somehow ambiguous and blurry.

“Mr Golem, I am here to warn you.”

A mixed voice of a woman, a man and a child appeared directly in my head. Even with my inhumane mental resistance he still could do these kind of things.

Who is he, really?

“I am The Bringer of End, The Harvester of Souls; and The Collector of Endings; I am The Angel of Death.”

Can he read my mi…?

“Yes. And to answer your next question, you are basically a cutting-edge Golem.”

The eery voice answered my unfinished question, and the question I didn’t think of yet. With his abilities and aura, he can’t be anything other than what he says, and that what my instinct yells at me; this “man” is the end.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

… I am classified as a Golem, huh.

“Sir Angel of Death, what do you ask of me?”

I spoke respectfully toward him out awe and fear.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to warn you, don’t mess around with human civilization, not with your, as in plural, knowledge, nor with your power; let’s humans struggle their way to the top of the food chain, Golem.”

His words did make sense. After all “we” are an abnormality, I shouldn’t go changing the world’s fate.

“Good to see that you half understand at least, and stop saying “we”, I mean according to my Register...” He said while reaching out to something in his coat’s pocket; it was small notebook; and then he added. “Did you really think that a Low Spirit and a Skeleton can give life to a human? wake up that shit isn’t that easy.”

Confused by his scornful words, I asked him once again.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s easy actually. Your theory was almost correct and you nailed it, but you forgot something so we supplied it.”

To his even more confusing answer I tilt my head to the side, and he sighs.

“Even with that super brain of yours you didn’t realize.” He said, and then he asked me. “What makes human an existence?”

“Body and Soul.”

I answered reflexively, he sighs once again and says while shaking his head sideways in denial.

“Wrong. It is Body, Astral and soul.” And then he looks upward toward the blue cloudless sky and says. “The Skeleton is the body, the base. The Low Spirit is the Astral, the shell that protects the soul. So where is the soul?” He asked while slowly lowering his head to look at me in the eyes.

[Replaying The Conversation]

After hearing his words carefully once again, it struck me.

“You supplied it?”

I said while asking for confirmation.

“Yes.”

He replied while nodding his head, but then he stopped and looked me straight into the eyes once again, but this time the shade hiding the upper side of his face disappeared and what appeared was a handsome young man with an eerily pitch black hair, and steely red eyes.

“But, not a full soul. A merged copy of both of ‘you’ mixed with your ‘thoughts’, you can thanks us later.”

So that’s the reason why such an abstract idea worked. luck is such a funny thing.

“There is no luck.”

What? Then why did it happen?

I thought while feeling the unusual thing called uneasiness.

“Don’t worry, it’s all happens for a purpose. And your purpose is...”

So that’s why all things happened.

“Watch out for the stars, and as you can imagine I’m a busy Angel, see you.”

“My purpose...”

I muttered to no one in specific while staring at the place where he stood.

“But to accomplish such a feat you will need an advantage.”

That’s hellish voice resounded in my head once again, and death was staring at me right in the eyes.

… So close!?

“Take this, [******].”

He said, but this time it was coming from his own mouth, a cold monotone of a voice, that will make it listeners shudder.

And I felt an intense wave of pain rushing through my head; as it is about to burst open, explode.

This is…!