Evan didn't remember his mother.
At the age of seven, he was sent into an overseas military academy by a father who could recall the name of the bottle of beer he always held in his hand better than he could his own son's birthday.
At the age of 10, his father passed, and circumstances led him to adoption by parents even worse than his father. A year later, he found himself at war, wielding a gun half his size.
Blood and corpses were no place for a boy his age.
Another year passed, and he was safe in an orphanage back in the land where he was born, severely traumatised. He left hell, but hell never left him. He eventually began going to school, where he found warmth in the form of his three friends. Those friends were everything to him, but he was never quite home. They couldn't fill up the void his past left within him.
As he was summoned to another world, he realised he was back to the days of being a soldier, but this time with his friends. In their short stint as heroes, he watched as the three were painted in the blood of both their enemies and their own, but overall, enjoyed it. He recognised it. Soldiers who would bond through war and pain, returning to more war each time they survived, just to experience camaraderie again. And what followed this recognition was pain. The last thing he wanted to do was admit that he was suffering while they were having fun. Not to himself, not to them.
Therefore, he persisted, and the hole in his heart only grew bigger. This was until he began to grow close to Elara. She was the home he had been looking for. He confided his deepest, darkest secrets to her, cried to her, held her, a thousand times over, but most of all, laughed with her. As the day of what he thought would be the final battle drew close, he only grew more and more joyful. The day was coming! The days of joy, love, and satisfaction were in sight!
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Then, the day came.
Blood and corpses were no place for a boy his age.
If a chasm was left in his heart last time, he now had one in his head. Every monster he saw, every demon, only reminded him of that day, and every time he used his power, his magic, all he saw was that inhumanity, the monstrosity slumbering within him, which was so similar to that demon from that day.
"Almost *pant* there, Ela-*pant*-Elara. Just, *pant* give me some *pant* time."
"Just so you know, my skills revolve around the concept of Buffs. I can hear you and you can hear me no matter how far we are, as if we were right next to each other, as long as I know where you are. Which is why I'd like you to shut up! Silence! Revolting! Creatu—Apologies. It seems I've lost my composure again."
Her voice truly did sound as if she were right next to Evan, nearly frightening him out of his skin when she spoke. He was running away at the greatest speed he could muster with his limited mana, but it was Lord-ranked and still fairly fast. Yet she had said that he 'knew where he was', and her voice sounded completely calm and unhurried, excluding the minor unhinged bout towards the end. Evan gritted his teeth and pushed his muscles harder.
"You would be able to travel so much farther if you dropped the girl on your shoulder. As a matter of fact, you'd be free if you did. Think about it. Is she really worth it? You're a young man with so much of his life left; do you really need…"
Evan droned out her voice and focused fully on running. He did not have the spare mental energy to listen to her ramblings, and the notion of abandoning Elara was ridiculous enough for him to easily ignore Kuepit.
Unfortunately, she did not take kindly to that. Evan blinked and found that a face of divine beauty suddenly appeared in front of him, mere centimetres away.
"Are you listening to me?"