He had not accepted anything they gave him.
They had presented him with food, water, a nice place to rest, and anything else he might want. But he didn’t need any of that, nor had he wanted it. Since his time there was hopefully fleeting, Kreig had chosen not to get comfortable. If he sat down and unloaded himself, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get up again, should the situation require it.
His mind was far too full of questions to handle it anyways.
Ten years. It had only been ten years.
For the life of him, he couldn’t grasp whether this was a blessing or curse.
The world hadn’t changed that much, all things considered. Returning to a desolate, apocalyptic wasteland would’ve been even worse. Since only ten years had passed, it meant anybody he might have cared about during his time on Earth remained alive.
...Then, his family was alive?
Realizing such a simple fact turned Kreig’s mind upside-down. He could remember neither their names nor their faces, but he knew that he had them. A hardworking mother and a caring father. A lovely sister and a diligent brother. Yes, they had been his family, hadn’t they?
His previously aimless goal of returning to his old life suddenly solidified into a dire need to meet his family. If portals had opened and there were monsters here, couldn’t he protect them? Family was as important as faith. Yes, if he only had his family, then…
“The interrogation of Kreig Wiedermann is to begin in two hours. As said previously, you will be kept here while the jury take their seat there.” As he spoke, Sir Reiker pointed to the other side of the room, where people had already begun placing massive fancy tables and chairs. By looking only at the furniture they were to use, it was clear that whoever was to come, they were at the top of the totem pole. Furthermore, each and every one of them had decided to come, despite the obvious risk of death. In that sense, they were braver than most.
Glancing over at where he himself was, almost all of the furniture and things he had been needlessly presented with had been removed, save for a single chair upon which he had been instructed to sit. As Sir Reiker explained, just before the judges arrived, he would be shackled to the chair and floor with chains of Dragonheart. Of course, since making chains of pure Dragonheart was practically impossible, the chains weren’t pure Draonheart, but that didn’t really matter. The important thing was that it at least appeared that he was being contained competently.
The fact that he would be able to break the chains at any time was insignificant.
“You are only expected to speak when questioned, but you have the right to express yourself whenever needed.” Sir Reiker spoke calmly, standing closer to Kreig than anyone else had dared to. “I beg that you recall that we are not your enemies. We hope that you will live peacefully as much as you do. Therefore, you should hold no worries regarding our judgement. Whether you are to be detained for a while or otherwise kept secure, you will at some point be granted your freedom.” His eyes sharpened. “You have my word on that.”
Unsure how to respond, Kreig kept his gaze on the door leading to the waiting area where the jury lingered. He knew that was their location since the room was filled with the scents of people he had never smelled before. Furthermore, all of them had a clean, white-pressed fragrance about them, with the women wearing perfume and the men carrying cologne.
Even more strikingly, they all had the same scent of fear subdued by courtesy.
These people were high-standing officers, surrounded by equally high-standing officers. How could they possibly show fear before them? The situation was simply so that each and every one of them was only there to show off to the rest of them that ‘I’m not scared, I deserve my place here.’
Of course, far from all of them had the exact same scent. Some were less afraid, others more so.
A few held a fear so different from the rest that Kreig couldn’t help but feel somewhat stunned. As there were many different kinds of fear, so too were there many kinds of nervousness. It was only obvious that the nervousness of confessing one's love would be different from the nervousness of facing death. Most in the waiting room held the latter, but a few - two, to be exact - seemed to hold a strange variant of the former.
A nervousness tinged by worry and just the slightest hint of love hovered about them and only them. The thought that anyone would have such conflicting emotions about this interrogation filled Kreig with confusion and uncertainty.
As Sir Reiker excused himself to go escort the jury, Kreig fell into a dull silence.
Unsure of how else to react, Kreig followed Sir Reiker’s presence as he moved through the facility, in and out of hallways and through doors until he finally arrived at the waiting room. The emotions of the jury inside flared, especially so those certain two. For a few minutes, Sir Reiker simply stood before them, explaining his piece. And then the doors opened and Kreig was given an excellent view of how the five foremost officers froze mid-step.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
A second or so passed awkwardly as they stared at him and he stared at them, the officers clad smartly and Kreig in chains.
The moment passed once Sir Reiker moved to the front and urged the officers inside. Even then, they moved with stale, wooden steps, their eyes either moving nervously about the room or focused on Kreig and only Kreig. As the judges poured inside, Kreig began feeling just a bit anxious, if only because of the myriad of eyes trained on him.
To escape the gazes, Kreig turned his attention to finding those certain two.
Unlike most of the smartly dressed men, the two were further in the back, somewhat hidden by the others’ presences. But their emotions were so much stronger. Everyone else tried to hide how they felt, but these two were simply so overcome by their own feelings that they couldn't give a thought to withholding it.
Kreig watched with great curiosity as they came into view.
A man and a younger woman. The man was, much like most everyone else, dressed in a sharp suit, distinguishing himself as an officer of some sort. If Kreig focused, he could see a small metal pin in the lapel of his suit, displaying what appeared to be a coat of arms.
The woman, on the other hand…
When Kreig turned to regard her, he found her eyes trained squarely on his. As their eyes met, she practically jumped out of her skin. She almost even drew the sword hung by her hip, but the man at her side stopped her. It appeared that they were, much like everyone else, a pair. Every officer could be seen as a pair together with some person usually dressed in armour. A few had instead brought a young woman likewise dressed in a suit.
An officer and an escort. As simple as that.
Then, these two certain ones were also a pair. Considering the similarities of their scents, facial bone structure and the closeness of their relationship, they were likely siblings. This was especially obvious since almost everyone else had brought a Fighter with a level of at least 100. Of course, the two were hardly the only ones who brought someone to act as more than a bodyguard, but he found them much more interesting.
As Kreig kept eye contact with the young woman, people began taking their seats, with their guards standing behind them. Nobody spoke a word. It was honestly pretty awkward, but Kreig knew it wasn’t his place to say anything.
Sir Reiker took a seat at the head of the tables, closest to Kreig. An older man sat next to him, holding a small gavel. It felt like a very strange trial.
Sir Reiker stood up, gathering the attention of all present. “Eight days ago, on the 5’th of November, a portal opened in this very city. The defendant and a soldier of the Yungland Empire exited. Over the course of one hour and thirty-two minutes, the defendant wreaked havoc, wiping out several Fighter parties and destroying numerous buildings. He only stopped when sealed by the spell Greater Hold Enemy V, cast by Frank Groda.” He spoke broadly, making no effort to either sugarcoat or subdue his words. “I wish to make it clear from the very beginning that the defendant is being kept only with his own consent. We hold no sustainable way of containing him, nor of killing him.
“At the moment, our only method of neutralizing him is to make him an ally of not only IOCRO, but the world as a whole. With today’s meeting, we hope to ascertain that this is not only plausible, but also possible.” His hawk’s eyes wandered smoothly over the gathered officers. “With this said, I now declare the Interrogation of Kreig Wiedermann open. Attorney?”
One of the officers, a thin man with a large afro, stood up and stepped over towards Kreig, followed closely by a young woman. “Jury and guards alike, we are not here to discuss the sins of this man, nor to judge him by the standards of our society. This may be a trial that will determine his future treatment, but it is only in such a way that a doctor would determine the healing of their patient. With that said, I wish to begin this interrogation by determining the validity of the defendant’s claim regarding his identity as Kreig Wiedermann, the former Earthling.”
With that, the attorney turned to Kreig, his sharp eyes running over him. “How old are you?”
Kreig gulped. “147 years.”
A small bout of murmur rose over the jury, but a single look from the attorney was able to quiet them. “Assuming you were indeed removed from this Earth at the age of seventeen and that you have remained there for ten years, this age would be correct.” In the span of fewer than three seconds, the attorney glanced over at those certain two, received a shake of the head from the well-dressed man, and then turned back to Kreig. “How did you come to find yourself in the otherworld?”
“That’s…” Saying all of it in front of so many people felt somehow embarrassing, but he had no choice. With all of those eyes focused on no one but him, he had no choice but to explain as best as he could what had happened all those years ago. How he and four of his classmates had awoken in marble caskets. How they had been fed strange mushrooms. How they had spent years training to become the representatives of a religion they slowly grew devoted to.
And then, how it had all changed.
Absorbed by his own words, Kreig could no longer see anything but the world he spoke of.
The religion usurped the country. And then, war.
And before Kreig knew it, he was standing trial for crimes he remembered committing all-too-well. But they wouldn’t execute him. He sat small and feeble before a judge and jury who all refused to let him join his friends and God below.
In front of Kreig’s eyes, the room seemed to shift, changing from the barren walls and modern guards into the polished and luxurious walls of the Royal Imperial Court. A bead of sweat trailed down Kreig’s back. Before him, the judge that ruled over life and death reared like a carrion-bird smelling a corpse. “And then? What was your sentence?”
“Please,” Kreig whispered. “Let me join my brothers.”
The cold blue eyes of the judge pierced Kreig’s heart like an icicle, freezing it in his chest. “That we cannot do.”
And all of a sudden countless years passed. Kreig was no longer a prisoner awaiting execution. Years of lonely punishment, only to be released back into society as though nothing happened. They put a sword in his hand and made him their soldier. He killed for their sakes. And then, as quickly as it began, the life he had grown to slowly enjoy ended. Nearby countries grew aware of his presence and demanded his execution. An execution the Empire could not physically give him.
“And what happened then?” The judge that now stood before him was a different one, his robes and face all changed. Eyes flaming, teeth bared, he turned to Kreig with a look that beckoned murder. But he couldn’t kill Kreig. No one could. ‘A thousand years in The Basement!’ he’d called out and the world darkened and Kreig was dragged down into a place that was as black as night even in the brightness of day.
Shadows danced around him, asking questions and speaking softly amongst themselves, all mumbling and worried and gradually growing panicked. But everything was black, and Kreig was alone.
Far away, he heard unfamiliar voices speaking,
“What is he doing?”
“Begin evacuations, call Doctor Falk.”
“Sir, we-,”
Silently, quietly, with the certainty of a sinner, Kreig brought his hands together, determined to part the darkness and the quiet. An old, familiar prayer fell from his lips.
A rumble shook the facility. The shadows began to dance with fervour, singing wailing songs as they flew through the room. But Kreig was focused on giving his heart to God. Above him, the roof of the facility gave a whine and a crack as the light penetrated through it like a flood of liquid sun.
Light touched down on his shoulders, banishing the darkness.
The facility, although small in comparison to nearby buildings, was nevertheless built of the strongest material available and stood at a proud three storeys. This building was filled with people, from guards to cleaners to fighters to officers. And anything and anyone in the way of the light was destroyed.
Not a single shadow fell on Kreig. Through the cracks above, blood dripped.