“Monzetsu.”

There they were again. The five figures that persisted only in mind. Standing upon their tall, imposing podiums, staring down at Orochalcus, their forms and faces concealed. There was always something about these encounters that left him feeling… unnerved. Was it their uncanny lack of emotion? It wasn’t like how Sacha felt, not even close, yet it was similarly disturbing, like staring at yourself in a mirror for too long. These figures, they didn’t feel like who they once were, if if that was undoubtedly them, they felt so different. Their lack of hatred was disturbing at best, after they had lost their lives to Sacha, why didn’t they despise him like Orochalcus did? Had they not comparatively gotten the short end of the stick?

Orochalcus brief pondering was quickly broken by the signature, calculated tone of the figure in the centre, as he continued his sentence.

”You were defeated.”

Those words hit Orochalcus like a truck. He knew he had, no sane person would describe what had just occurred as anything but a defeat, and a humiliating one at that. He hadn’t even touched Sacha, even though he stood right before him, he had felt so many worlds away, as if he and Orochalcus weren’t even in the same dimension. But how? Now that Sacha was no longer directly in front of him, he realised just how utterly outmatched he was on that fight. With a blade no thicker than sand, he had stopped the Okuplok. Rarely before had Orochalcus met a foe he could not carve through with enough time, so to not be able to even hit Sacha? It was inconceivable, yet it was, clear as day.

“I…”

Orochalcus tried to speak, but there was nothing for him to say. How do you reply to something like that? He couldn’t just go “Oh, whoopsies, I’ll do better next time!”, That wasn’t worth anything, anything at all, but then what was? What could he do now? Get stronger? But how strong would he even need to get? He didn’t know, he couldn’t know, there may just as well have been no answer to be known, and perhaps there indeed wasn’t. Was this it?

There was a sudden stir among the figures, something that surprised Orochalcus, to say the least. Never before had they moved so much as an inch, yet they had just stammered in their place visually. Their voices betrayed any idea that they could have been concerned or worried by this development, cold, and pre-determined as always.

”A foreign force impedes on this meeting.”

The figure on the far left said, for the first time ever, turning its head to glance at the others. Despite it’s face being invisible to Orochalcus, it was clear he was expecting a response from one of the others.

”We must let it wait, then, we lack the power to force Monzetsu into his own mind.”

The middle figure spoke, with it’s signature, authoritative, yet still near completely neutral tone, glancing at the figure on the far left, before turning back to Orochalcus, staring down at him he always did.”

”This discussion shall recommence when the time is right, for now, Monzetsu, we must bid you Adeu.”

With that, Orochalcus felt himself disappear from that podium, that realm in his mind. He didn’t care, though, not this time, anyways. He had no questions to ask, and now he had none to answer, to be frank, it was practically the best he could’ve hoped for. But now, he had to deal with whatever had interrupted that meeting. This was the first time one had ended in an unnatural manner, so it confused him, how? The hours he slept through while talking to them were almost always reduced to mere minutes, so how was it that they, no, he, could be interrupted?

As Orochalcus slowly opened his eyes, he was immediately hit with a sense of pure confusion, driven by the unfamiliar sights that now surrounded him. He wasn’t laying on the cobbled paths of the town, but seated on a red cushioned chair, which seemed to be structured out of a rich, dark wood. The room around him was similarly fashioned, almost an exquisite, manor like room, the type one would expect to find in the mansions of old, rich people from the Victorian era. The chair he sat on faced a large desk, table sort of piece of furniture, which had behind it a vast, full bookshelf, the few titles he could make out from the larger books on it littered near equally with names he recognised, and names he did not.

Yet it was directly behind that desk which sat the most noticeable part of that room, in spite of all it’s luxuries and many, many details, what stood out most was what, or rather who, was on the other side of that desk.

There, looking right back at him, sat a man of immense height, no doubt even taller than Sacha, and only slightly less slim. He was well dressed, and wearing almost entirely black. The parts of his clothes that weren’t a similar black to that of Orochalcus’s cloak were of a dark grey, that, or they were one of the many deep red highlights that neatly littered his entire outfit. His hair contrasted this dark outfit with its pale whiteish grey hair, flowing down neatly behind him, barely touching his shoulders, though with very little in front of his face, hair which seemed almost too bright to not be dyed, especially consider how young the man seemed, even younger than Orochalcus. His eyes, though, were his most striking feature, nearly the same darkish red as that which was on the man’s clothing. Even more clearly visible than that, though, were the whites of his eyes, which were almost the same shade of pure black as his pupils. They were unnerving, to say the least, seeming someone with eyes like that, it would’ve spooked just about anyone, but not Orochalcus, he had seen, and felt, much worse, so, so much worse.

”Who the fuck are you…?”

Orochalcus asked, slightly hesitantly, as soon as he could get his bearings, and fully transition himself from the world of sleep to the world of consciousness.

”My identity is… Irrelevant, for the time being, at least, you may call me Mors”

He wasn’t familiar, not even in the slightest, yet Orochalcus couldn’t shake the feeling he had seen him somewhere before, not in person, no, nothing like that, but still, there was just something about him that felt as though it had been present to Orochalcus many, many a time before.

”Wh-“

Before Orochalcus could even finish the first word of his question, the man, who he now had a name for, interrupted him, as if already knowing precisely what he was going to say.

”As for the matter of ‘what’ I am? Well, it depends on who you ask. Some would call me a god, some a devil, while some would merely deny my existence. But either way, I assure you that I am not human, not in the way you would define human, anyways.”

Orochalcus leaned back slightly, contemplating, taking in what Mors was saying. Was he some sort of higher power? Yes, that was perhaps the only logical explanation, it answered questions of ‘how’ and ‘why’ for Orochalcus, so it seemed like merely the logical answer. Still, though, it wasn’t satisfactory, not even remotely, Orochalcus had to ask more, figure out more, understand more.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

”I see…”

He paused momentarily, trying to decide his next question, before continuing his attempted interrogation. A pause which Mors once again chose to interrupt.

”Cigarette…?”

”What…?”

Orochalcus asked, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden offer.

”No, I’ll pass, thanks though.”

Mors reached under the desk, pulling out a cigarette, which he then held to his mouth.

”Fair enough, then.”

He said, before pulling a lighter out of the same place, quickly lighting his cigarette, before returning the lighter to wherever he grabbed it from.

”I suppose you still have a life ahead of you, no?”

Orochalcus didn’t respond, just briefly nodding. Who was this person really? What did he mean? Why did he want him here? He needed answers, and he knew that the only way he was going to get them was by asking, and so, he finally did.

”Why am I here?”

Mors sighed for a short moment, glancing away from Orochalcus, before replying, still facing away from him.

”…There is… how shall I describe this…? Ah, a common enemy between the two of us.”

Orochalcus nodded once again, he knew who Mors was referring to, but he still felt like he needed to confirm. Everyone seemed too afraid, or even sympathetic towards Sacha’s regime. So someone who was willing to help out, especially someone who could be presumed to be powerful like Mors could, it seemed too good to be true, a feeling Orochalcus had all too much experience with to just accept.

“The regent?”

Mors looked back at Orochalcus, before nodding.

”That is correct, him.”

Mors said ‘him’ with a tone of clear distaste, nowhere near to how Orochalcus felt about him, or perhaps better, it. Even so, it was clear that whoever Mortis was, he took personal offence to what Sacha was doing, as well as Sacha himself, something Orochalcus didn’t need to question why.

”…You knew him before he was, well, this, no?”

Mors asked, a slight tone of curiosity in his otherwise completely neutral voice.

”Yeah, but that doesn’t matter now.”

Orochalcus replied, scowling slightly.

”…People who go onto become things like him, what they used to be doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, his state now overpowers any good he could’ve ever done.”

Orochalcus meant every word he said, what Sacha had once meant to him was utterly irrelevant now, it was only what he was now. To Quote Ion Antonescu, “People don’t matter, only what they represent.”, and what Sacha represented, as far as Orochalcus cared, was all that was wrong with humanity. Heaven’s regency was cruel, it was destructive and prejudiced, it killed without reason, without a clear aim. It was evil, in the truest sense, and Sacha was the very epitome of that fact. That was what Orochalcus hated second about him, first, of course, was everything he had done to him personally.

Mors sighed, it was clear he had somewhat expected such an answer, though perhaps not with the level of aggression and spite Orochalcus said it with. Despite what he seemed to want to do, he didn’t push further on the subject, perhaps he saw no use in it? Orochalcus didn’t care, he just wanted concrete answers.

”You gonna say anything of substance or what? How the hell’re you gonna help me fight Sacha?”

Mors sighed, looking away from Orochalcus again. Stuff like that pissed Orochalcus off, more than most other things in the world. Who even was he? Why did he think he was above even looking at him while he answered? Even if he hated Sacha as much as him, if he couldn’t do anything, he was useless, utterly useless, he might as well go and die for all he cared.

”…That is… not my place to interfere, it’s not within my rights- No, I can’t interfere with-“

Orochalcus slammed his fists against the desk, knocking a few small objects off of it. Standing up, slightly hunched over, but still staring at eye level with the calmly sitting Mors.

”Then you’re fucking useless!”

Orochalcus yelled at him, perhaps less so out of anger and moreso out of annoyance, this man had gone and dragged him to god knows where, was it physical? Was it mental? He didn’t know, but it pissed him off, because he’d just wasted his time. Time wasn’t something he had in an unlimited supply, at some point, he was going to die, would it in just a few months, or a few decades? He couldn’t be sure, which was all the more reason to waste none of it, and yet he had gone and done just that.

”Send me back, you fucking cunt!”

Mors sighed, only nodding his head solemnly.

”I… Suppose I should have forseen this.”

He held his hand out, aiming it at Orochalcus, who suddenly felt himself beginning to black out for what felt like the fifth time today. Clearly, he wasn’t lying about being something more than human.

”There will come a time, I would hope at least, when you will understand why I matter, for now, though, carry on with whatever it is you are doing now, I wish you nought but the best in it.”

Orochalcus felt himself fully slip, fading back into the realm of the unconscious, but for what felt and seemed to have been for no more than a second this time, which he was frankly rather thankful for.

When he awoke, he was propped up against a tree, presumably where Sacha had left him to sleep after defeating him. He felt up and down his body in a frenzy, searching for anything in a frenzied rush, but there was nothing. Not a scar, not a bruise, and he didn’t feel like anything had been done to him in his unconsciousness. Strange, considering this was someone as deplorable as Sacha, but he knew he was lucky, for now, at least, he had to let it last.

He looked out upon the town where he had rested for the past few days, which seemed to be a few hundred metres away from where he now was. It was unmistakably the same town, most of the core stone structures remained in the same shape and place, but everything else that wasn’t either completely gone was consumed by a bright inferno. Orange, red and yellow alike engulfed the entire settlement, undoubtedly Sacha’s doing. There was no screaming, nor was there any other sign of human life, no sound was there other than a gentle breeze, juxtaposed by the fierce and horrific crackling and burning of the massive fire.

Looking up, it quickly became apparent where all the people had went. On that one tree alone, even just the parts he could see, hung five corpses. They all seemed slightly burned, clearly their deaths had not been easy ones. Lacerations littered their necks and faces, some of which were still freshly bleeding. Sacha had a tendency to hang the so called ‘undesirables’ he came across not with rope, but with barbed wire, likely to inflict as much suffering as to be possible. Not that any less was to be expected from someone as depraved and deplorable as he.

He looked back to the grass, which was slightly stained a reddish brown from the dried blood of the corpses up above, but also from what sat on it. It was a large skull, seemingly one from the sin amalgamate Sacha had killed in front of him. Orochalcus picked it up, and stared down into it. The inside was splattered with what seemed to be flesh and blood, all freshly red and shredded from the creature’s body, clearly, he hadn’t been gone for long. There was no point in pursuing Sacha, he was probably already far off by now, given the pace and which he and everyone else of his moved.

A truth emerged in Orochalcus’s mind, the simple fact that he couldn’t win, not like he was now, anyways. Sacha was stronger, and so he would have to be so too. He looked at the skull for one last second, before shoving it over his head. It barely fit over his own skull, the rough bone scraping against the sides of his head, but it didn’t matter. Sin amalgamate bone was durable, moreso than anything else he was going to get, not here, not anyways. This was nothing, despite the pain, it was the first step he would need to take on the road to his revenge.

There was nothing left for him here, it was just as it always was. He stayed in the same place for too long, got to know it just a little too well, and it was all taken from him. That was his curse, that was his punishment for having the audacity to exist. But there was no point in just sitting there and moping. As much as he wanted to cry, to collapse into himself and his misery, he, and his rage would not let him. He had to keep going, so he got up, he stood up on his own two feet, and he started walking again, carrying everything with him, the weight of both him and all the weapons he felt he needed to keep surviving in this awful, awful world.

But he would survive, that was all that mattered to him. He would live onto the next day, and then the day after that, and then the day after that. Even if just out of spite towards whatever had put him there in the first place, he would live, after all, there was nothing else for him to do now, other than wait to meet Sacha again, and claim victory next time. He would, he had to, and thus, he would walk on, just as he always did.