Staggering, I stared behind me. Mable and Maple were looking at me, dazed, blood running from their temples. I swallowed thickly as I pulled on Maple’s shirt and the labcoat he’d been wearing, glad they were long enough to act as a complete cover for me.

“If you keep going in this lifestyle, you’ll be killed,” I said to them, my voice echoing in the warehouse, “Instead of being psychotic killers, why don’t you go into dungeons instead? Get stronger, level up, find a guild to join. You’ll be accepted there, no matter what your preferences are.”

Turning, I left the warehouse. Getting to the hotel was a bitch, and when I got there, I saw someone I really didn’t want to see. With platinum blond hair and green eyes and a snobby tilt to her nose, that one bitch was at the reception.

“I know Blood is here! Let me know what his hotel room is!” The snobby soldier snapped.

I sighed, limping past her, glad I wouldn’t have to deal with her out-of-costume. I staggered past my hotel room, going to Lawrence’s. I slammed my fist on the door several times. Soon, a handsome man with some age lines and heavy bags under his eyes opened the door. He had messy brown hair, and deep brown eyes. The sight was a beautiful one.

I tried shoving past him, but he was stronger than me, his arms coming up to hold me up as my legs gave out.

“H-hello,” Lawrence stuttered out, voice weary, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, get me my helmet,” I muttered, resting my head against his chest and closing my eyes, “And a healing potion, if you have one.”

“Y-your…” Realization filled Lawrence, and he dragged me inside, slamming the door shut, “Blood! Where have you been?! Why are you this injured? Why didn’t you contact me? It’s been three weeks! I thought you’d run off and left me behind!” Lawrence cried out, his arms around me cradling me gently.

“Uhh,” I managed quietly, “I’m… Mm,” I explained, eyes not opening as my arms wrapped around Lawrence. He was really warm.

Unfortunately for me, Lawrence vanished from my grasp. I whimpered as I fell to the ground, listening to the sound of a zipper and cloth rustling. Soon, arms wrapped around me again, a vial being held to my mouth.

Lawrence hummed, voice soft, “You look like a mess, Blood.”

I drank the healing potion, groaning as I was fed more. It was a lesser healing potion. After drinking all of it, my wounds were closed, but the scars didn’t heal, pink lines criss-crossing my body.

“I… want to hug you and sleep. So I’m going to. Don’t stop me,” I muttered, reaching out and clinging to Lawrence.

Lawrence didn’t listen to my pleas, though, pushing me away. He ignored my whimper as he held me up by the shoulders. My head was limp, though, handing down, chin on my collar and eyes closed.

“What happened?” Lawrence asked, voice soft.

“Some… some guys got me. I was captured for a bit. Escaped,” I muttered, “You’re a bad stuffed animal, you’re not supposed to push me away.”

Lawrence sighed, speaking softly, “I’m not a stuffed animal. Here, take a shower. I’ll get you the rest of your stuff—I uploaded the videos on your SD cards for you while you were gone. You can tell me what happened later.”

I opened my eyes, looking up with a frown as Lawrence left the room. Standing up, I walked straight to his hotel bed, laying down and curling up, helmet and pants on.

Hearing that one bitch’s voice outside didn’t comfort me any. Soon, Lawrence was back inside, “I’ll talk to him, promise.”

The door clicked shut.

“One of the soldiers we’ve worked with before wants to speak with you,” Lawrence said as he turned. A noise of complaint left his throat, “You’re dirty, why are you on my bed? Blood—” Lawrence sighed.

A moment later, the sound of running water reached my ears. It’s quiet and peaceful for a few moments, my eyes sliding shut. I relaxed for the first time in several weeks.

Soon, the water stopped, though, and arms wrapped around me. I whined out a complaining hum from the back of my throat. I didn’t struggle though, still relieved to be somewhere safe. To be with someone I trusted.

Relaxing was a mistake. I found myself dropped into warm water, limbs flailing and me shoving myself up, eyes wide and chest heaving as I coughed. I pulled off the helmet as I partially drowned, Lawrence pulling it from my hands.

“I’ll bring you clean clothes. Take those off and toss them out of the bath when you’re done,” Lawrence said shortly, sliding the shower curtains shut.

I glanced to the side, heart aching. For a moment, I felt very, very alone. Tears burned at my eyes as I looked down at the water—quickly turning pink. Right, Lawrence was just a diving partner. He wasn’t a friend—and even if he was, it wasn’t his job to comfort me. I curled up, arms wrapping around my legs, resting my forehead against my knees.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I didn’t want his sympathy or his concern anyway. It would just make him trust me less in dungeons, right? So I shouldn’t tell him anything. I’ll just say a gang or whatever wanted to use me as a weapon, or for ransom or something. If Lawrence knew how little people cared for me, it wouldn’t work, but he didn’t know me at all, so it was okay.

I was okay. It would be okay.

Taking a deep breath, struggling to get enough air, I shifted back and started removing my clothes. I scrubbed at my body, observing the new scars that covered almost every inch of me. I looked at the lines, seeing that they all made a pattern.

Like kids, drawing. My mood dampened even further as I looked at the lines with a grim sort of sorrow. I couldn’t save them.

When I walked out of the bathroom—wearing jeans because Blood’s leggings were wet—Lawrence was on his bed watching the news. The bed was sans its comforter, Lawrence sitting on the very edge.

I looked at the news report as well, staring at the video of a man with purple hair glaring down at a woman, his teeth bared and his golden eyes hostile.

“A man—his delver alias being Reign—was spotted torturing a woman in broad daylight, removing her clothing and whipping her with his belt. When police arrived at the scene and tried stopping him, they found themselves baffled as their weapons didn’t work on him—indeed, Reign seems to be an Awakened, or an individual who had unlocked his powers by going into a dungeon!” The news reporter said, her voice clinical and full of fake emotion.

More and more people were using their powers for bad, I mused quietly, shoulders slumping.

Lawrence glanced up as I dug around, grabbing another of my armored leggings—ones that weren’t wet—and pulling them on over my jeans.

“The solider really wants to talk to you. She’s still waiting outside,” Lawrence commented.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone someone who would just bring drama into my life, “Do you have my room key? I’m going to fucking sleep.”

Lawrence sighed, standing up and grabbing a keycard off the table, tossing it at me. I fumbled to catch it, dropping it onto the floor.

“You should speak with her,” Lawrence decided, “She wants to apologize.”

“Do I look like I fucking care?” I muttered under my breath, turning and walking to the door. I opened it, slamming the door behind me as I turned to walk to my room.

“Blood!” The blond soldier called out, grabbing me.

I tore my arm from her, annoyance, anger, and fear mixing as I glared at her, “What?” I snapped.

The blond soldier flinched back, giving me a shocked look, “U-um… I just…” She looked away, her cheeks growing red, “I wanted to apologize for—“

“Great, apology accepted,” I agreed, taking a deep breath and sighing it out as I went to my hotel room, “Good talk. We can talk more later, if you’d like.”

Unlocking the door, I opened it.

“W-wait!” The blond cried out.

The door closed in her face, “Sorry,” I muttered, locking the door and turning to go to my bed. I slumped down into it, letting my exhaustion pull me into a half-awake half-asleep state.

Were the twins still there? I could still have them join me, if they’d be willing.

…

The thought kept me awake, and soon I pushed myself to my feet. Going to the door—pocketing my room key—I left. The woman was waiting there.

“Oh! Blood!” She called out.

“Not now, I’m busy. Speak to Lawrence, he’ll pass the message along,” I dismissed as I turned and jogged down the hall, bat in hand.

The moment I got outside, I sprinted to where I’d been. Getting there, though, there was only the splattered remains of my blood from where it’d fallen off the sides of the table. There weren’t any stand lights, there wasn’t a cheap plastic table, and there weren’t twins. I glanced around, sighing as I turned.

Fuck.

Guilt and heartbreak filled me as I walked back to the hotel.

“Blood, Blood!” Someone yelled out.

I glanced over to see a woman and a man running up to me, the woman holding a microphone and the man holding a big camera. I stopped, exhausted already.

“Yeah?” I asked as I turned and kept walking back to the hotel.

“Can you answer some questions for us?” The woman asked, sticking the microphone in my face and stopping.

I evaded the attempt to stop me, twisting around her and continuing to walk, “Not really. Busy.”

“Right, of course, um, we’d like to thank you for all the hard work you’ve put into keeping us safe! People are saying that you’re the reason America is still standing after the Dungeon Break,” The woman said.

I shrugged, exhausted, “Cool.”

“R-right,” The woman stuttered, gasping as she tried keeping up with my power-stride, “Now that the danger is out of the way, do you plan to keep delving into dungeons? What do you plan to do with your future now that we’ve gotten past the worst of this invasion?”

I hesitated, stopping to look at the woman, confused, “What do you mean? From what I know, the dungeons will continue to break unless people frequently clear their first floors or kill the boss monsters—whichever is easiest. Am I wrong?”

The woman hesitated, glancing at the camera, “So you’re saying that we aren’t past the danger? That the dungeons will be a constant threat to us in the future?” The woman asked, microphone held out in front of me.

I nodded, turning to continue walking. Right, of course she wouldn’t know—I was the one to talk to the Lich, not her, “I believe so, yes,” My walking gait was uncomfortable, my bat hitting my knees. I grabbed my bat, pulling it out as I turned, “Are you planning to follow me all the way to my destination?” I asked in a complaining way as I rested the bat against my shoulder, not having anywhere else to put it.

The woman’s face grew pale, “N-no, of course not! We just have one more question for you. In your recent videos, you said you had a purpose outside of saving people for delving into dungeons. Most see you as a hero, so we’re all very curious what keeps you going whenever you’re delving into a dungeon.”

I thought about it for a moment. One more question… but… she… she didn’t ask a question? What was she asking? Curious about what keeps me going…? Is that the question?

“I’m looking for something,” I said simply, “Stop following me. Goodbye.”

Turning, I walked back to my hotel room, bat swinging at my side, held loosely in one hand.

Finally, I could get some rest.