"Don't let them get away!" Gabriel cried.

All the Virtues dashed forth. All except Alexander.

Their movements were slowed and unsteady. With their minds wrapped in magic and memory until just seconds ago, the Virtues stumbled as they burst forward at their attackers. But they wouldn’t stop.

Kafka swallowed his dry saliva. Running alongside Matthias, he gripped Alonso’s severed arm. Blood was still gushing until a flash of light appeared from Kafka’s hand. And even as they ran, Alonso stopped bleeding and a new hand grew and formed onto his cut wrist.

As soon as he had healed Alonso’s wound, he let go and broke apart from the other two.

Alonso was delirious with pain. Matthias was too scared to think. Right now... Kafka was the only one who could decide what to do.

"Split up!" he shouted.

Matthias nodded in understanding and separated himself from Alonso. And with their separation, the Virtues split up as well.

Liam stared at Kafka before he turned and ran, separated from the others. Kafka, the lanky man whose skeletal frame peered through his garments, had just healed a severed limb. His magic had created an entire appendage from pure energy. From thin air.

By all laws of magic, that wasn't possible.

In any case... That man was the biggest threat.

Liam grit his teeth. "I'm going after the malnourished one!" he shouted. "Stay with Gabriel and Lumiel!" he ordered Giovanna.

She nodded and took in a deep breath, sprinting through the trees to catch up with the others.

With just a handful of seconds of a head start, Kafka wasn’t fast enough to avoid Liam. And so... He stopped himself as soon as he reached a branch of the river.

Even if it was just a stream, it was too wide and too deep to cross.

Liam ran past the forest until he reached Kafka. He stood still, facing the stream, just a few feet from the water.

If he wasn’t careful, the man would jump into the stream and escape. Considering the danger they were all put in, Kafka’s escape was not something Liam could accept.

He reached behind his belt and gripped the hilt of his dagger. He let out a soft breath, mist filling the chilled wind.

Before he could take another step, Kafka spoke.

"Tell me..." he said. "Does the body conform to the soul? Or does the soul fix itself to the body?"

Liam furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't want to humor this man with a response. Liam didn't know what he meant to begin with.

Kafka spoke again, however. "Y'know, like the chicken or the egg. Which came first? The soul or the body?"

Thin bronze claws had already begun to protrude from Liam's fingertips. "...The latter," he muttered.

Kafka smiled. His amber eyes finally met Liam's as he spoke. "Wrong."

"The soul always comes first. You- Whatever your name is- are just a soul. You being 6 feet tall or whatever, brown skin, brown eyes, every single minuscule thing like that... is meaningless. Your soul is the only thing that matters within your existence."

He continued. "That's my magic," Kafka confessed. "What I did to my 'brother' was the reason why you chased after me. I didn't heal him if that's what you expect. I simply reinforced the shape of his soul."

"You get it now, don't you? The soul dictates the body's information. My magic touches and shapes the soul." Kafka's smile widened as he pressed a single finger against his finger. "My soul... And the souls of others. Your soul is no different. It can be molded. I suggest you run, if you value your life."

Liam continued to stare at him. With no real response in mind, he inhaled. "You..." he finally said. "You talk too much."

Kafka smiled again.

"Have it your way, then. Let's begin," he muttered, his right arm quickly transforming into a conical spike, still retaining his flesh's qualities. Pale and pinkish, linear yet contorted, Liam clenched his jaw at that sight.

Kafka suddenly appeared before him, his eyes already wide and slamming his weaponized arm into Liam’s gut.

All before Liam could react. The impact alone forced spit and saliva through his mouth. And with that attack, Liam’s guts would’ve spilled through his chest if he hadn’t prepared himself.

His chest was coated in magic energy. His skin was rough and hardened.

Even in the pain that still reverberated in his torso, he forced a smile. "Surprised?" he asked Kafka. "Y’know... Rhino skin is practically armor," Liam said.

Kafka stared at him in confusion. Still, he masked that confusion with a smile of his own. He took a couple steps back.

His arm once again shifted, morphing back into that of a normal person’s. Kafka and Liam both stood steady, watching and preparing for what would come next. Who would attack and who would defend, how much force, how much energy, and so on.

Liam knew that Kafka wasn’t serious. Calling that measly attack a display of his power was an understatement.

And so, Liam finally unsheathed his dagger and twirled it in his hand. He grit his teeth, an orange glow enveloping him. With that, they both launched themselves forth.

Only mere minutes of their battle had passed until Kafka separated himself once again. And again, his body shifted back from contorted and twisted limbs to its original state.

And yet, over the course of the short battle, Liam hadn’t laid a scratch on Kafka. Even with his capabilities, the best he could do was defend against his morphing opponent.

Kafka was clearly a human. And yet... Liam had never heard of a magic like this. 'He’s at least a Grade 1,' Liam reminded himself.

If he wasn’t careful... He would die.

Stolen novel; please report.

Again, Kafka stepped forth. "I see, now," he muttered. "You're capable of changing your body to fit that of animals from Midgard. Yes, yes, yes, that's great! Strength, durability, speed. But not just that... you can take their physiology. Wings, bones, internal and external structures..."

Liam lowered his black leather sleeve. Blood still dripped down his arm, leaving the back of his hand to be running with crimson. He slowly looked up at Kafka. "Don't get cocky just because you figured my magic out. Anyone with half a brain can understand it."

The only response was laughter. "That's not what I mean, y'know. My point... is that we're similar. In fact, we're the same."

"No, we're not."

"We are."

"We're not."

Kafka spat out a sigh. "We... have the same soul, Liam Bernard. You're basically a limited, inferior version of me," he said with a wide grin. "But that doesn't matter nearly as much as you think it does. You and I... are brothers."

Just like earlier, Liam only furrowed his eyebrows. Whoever this Kafka guy was, he was insane.

"Like I said... We’re not. Not the same, not even similar, and especially not brothers."

Kafka let out a light chuckle. "You know the two others I was with? They’re my brothers. Matthias and Alonso. But..."

His smiled widened. "They’re not really my brothers. You see, our souls are too different. I’m the only one who can see that, though. But... You and I... Our souls are practically the same color."

Kafka continued. "You and I are brothers. Nearly the same soul. Wavelength, frequency, magic, energy, doesn’t matter what you call it. The soul never lies. And the truth it’s speaking right now... is that we’re the same."

He extended his hand at Liam and smiled.

Liam’s face quickly grew twisted with scorn. But even so, that faded as soon as the watch on his wrist began to beep. Echoing past his leather sleeve, it broke the silence left by Liam’s lack of response.

"Ah," he said. "Guess I should hurry this up."

Kafka stared in confusion. "What... What’s that beeping for?"

"Oh. It’s just an alarm. I like being efficient, you see," Liam said, shutting off the alarm. He looked up at the sky. The moon’s brightness shone onto the realm with pale grey light. "And it’s get considerably late, too. Guess I should get serious and hurry this up."

Liam took in a deep breath. And with it, he forced out more and more magic energy into his body. With its increased flow, his eyes glistened with a slight orange glow. His arms grew thicker, bulging in his leather sleeves.

For most people, Liam was a hulking figure. His height and musculature was enough to prove that. But in a case like this, magic energy was all that one had to understand. Energy alone proved what Liam was capable of.

And now... That figure standing before Kafka was nothing short of a wild beast.

Kafka could only stare at the energy that welled up in Liam’s body. His instincts had already begun to drown out his thoughts.

A bear. No, a tiger. Maybe a lion? Was there even an existing beast that could instill this kind of instantaneous fright in a human?

The instinctive fear carried itself through his very veins. And as a repetition of the unease he felt about a dozen minutes beforehand, he swallowed his dry saliva. 'He’s getting serious? Don’t tell me... He was just toying with me earlier?!'

He forced himself to smile and put on a confident display of attitude. Even if Liam Bernard was stronger than he let on, Kafka could still win. That’s what he reminded himself.

"How splendid," Kafka said. He rolled up his sleeves. "Very well. Let our battle shake the earth itself."

Thicker and longer claws protruded from Liam’s beastly limbs as he sighed. "Whatever," he said, before dashing forth, his amber eyes glowing with determination.

----------------------------------------

Alexander's eyes were still swirling with anguished mania. His breaths were still labored, his hands still on the ground. And at the center of Alexander's pool of vomit was a deep crimson stain. He didn't know whether that sight of blood was all in his head or if it came from his insides.

He was still thinking back on what he had seen. Or rather, what he had been shown. The countless deaths, the unending anguish.

He witnessed his mother's corpse strewn across a plain of bloodied mud. And each and every one of the Virtues dying in one way or another.

"You promised you'd protect me." Those were the words Emilia coughed up as she laid on the ground, bleeding out from a hole in her chest. Those were the words that still rang in his head, they still pierced him in the gut. No matter how many times he told himself it wasn't real, that it was just an illusion, his heart didn't listen. He was still hung up on the sight of blood. The sight of death and destruction. And it was his fault.

It was his fault, wasn't it?

That's how it always is. It's because he's cursed. It's because he's alive. Wherever he goes, anguish follows. Emilia's death was his fault.

That's how it always is.

How many, Alexander asked himself. How many people have been hurt from his very being? And how many more will suffer because of him?

'It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.'

But no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, he couldn't quell the urge to throw up, to lay down and die.

"Are you alright, Alexander Lane?" a voice asked.

Alexander spun in shock.

A woman in a white cloak stood behind him, crouched down to his level, standing right beside him.

This woman was a Titan.

And if his sense for energy told him anything, it was the same woman he battled just a handful of hours ago.

'Lilith...' he thought.

Alexander couldn't see her eyes, but her hood floated just above her mouth, leaving her smile visible. He swallowed his dry saliva, forcing down the coarse taste of his stomach acid.

She leaned closer to Alexander. With a single hand, she gently traced her palm across Alexander's cheek.

"You must be going through something rough," she said. Her cadence was comfortable, her voice soothing. And her eyes were gentle. Nothing like he had seen in the hours prior.

"But it's okay now. Just breathe. Breathe with me."

She took in a deep breath and exhaled with him. Chills had already spread through Alexander's body. His hairs stood on end and his breaths grew slower. All of Alexander's instincts understood one thing.

The Titan wasn't here to hurt him.

'Yeah,' he told himself. 'She's not going to attack me. I know she isn't.'

Now confusion was all there was.

After all, this was the same woman that Alexander had fought just a handful of hours before all of this. If she was here, then the other Titan she was with could be nearby. And not just her, but the dozens upon dozens of soldiers.

Still, within that confusion... was peace. Lilith's words were all it took for Alexander to breathe steadily once again. And now, she was still smiling.

"You're okay now," she said.

Alexander slowly nodded. "I'm okay now," he spoke.

Her smile widened. "Perfect," Lilith said, finally getting up from the ground. She grabbed the ends of her pale hood and threw it back. Now... Their eyes finally met.

Lilith was a pale-skinned woman with freckles spread and scattered across her face. She had short, jet-black hair, just like Alexander. And in contrast, her eyes were a clear, sky blue.

In short, she looked nothing like Alexander had expected a Titan to look like. Well, what Lilith had just done was nothing like Alexander had expected of someone of her title.

She extended a hand to him. Alexander swallowed his dry saliva and grabbed her hand. Pulling himself up, he smiled at her. "Thank you," he said. That was all he could tell her, after all.

"It's no problem," she told him. Still smiling, her azure eyes met Alexander's. "As long as you're alright, that's enough for now."

Alexander was still trembling slightly. He stared at his quivering hands, just for a second before looking back up at the Titan.

He cleared his throat and fidgeted. He didn't know what to do in a situation like this. After all, what could one do when an enemy helps you?

"Lilith..." he mumbled. "That's your name, right?" Alexander asked her, thinking back to the name that was screeched out past clouds of dust.

"That's correct," she said, a smile still adorning her face.

"Well... I have to ask. Why... Why are you helping me?" he asked.

Once again, she lightly chuckled. "Because I... I like helping people," she explained.

Alexander paused. Everything told him that she wasn't lying. Nothing she had said to him was a lie, at all. So then...

"But also..."

He clenched his jaw. If things took a nasty turn, could Alexander win against this Titan? For now, winning was too grand a concept for Alexander to even consider. What he asked himself was, could he survive?

"I need your help, Alexander Lane."

'Wait, what?' His jaw was unclenched and his brows were furrowed.

"And I know you're a good person. I've seen what you've done. And I've seen your file. In the Golden Dawn, you and your fellow Virtues... are targets. Especially here, on Vanaheim. After all, you’re the most dangerous ones."

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva. "So..." he said.

He was interrupted.

"But I’m not here for that. In fact, I need you to help me with something, as I’ve said. Are you capable... No, are you willing to help me?"

Again, Alexander didn’t know what to say.

"What... What do you need me to help you with?" he asked, still stammering and trembling ever so slightly.

And again, Lilith smiled. "Well, it’s difficult, but I know you can do it." She pointed a finger at him. "You are capable of it."

She continued to speak. "You see, Alexander Lane," the Titan said. "...I want you to kill me."