I inhale a wisp of cold air. This, of course, was done with the assumption that wisp meant breath or something of the like. Obviously, given my current condition and lack of access to a dictionary, I can't say for certain whether I'm right or not. Wisp does sound like a particularly airy word though, 'w' and the 'i' sound in particular. Like air has an 'i' too, and weight has a 'w' and a 'i', and we all know if you don't have much of the latter, then you're like air right?

This does make sense.

I'm no linguist, but I'm pretty sure I'm not wrong. But maybe I am, I mean, wire has a 'i' and a 'w', and it doesn't seem airy in any way, nor does watching, whipper, weaponization, whacking, wanking, or boxing....

Does the last word I thought of even have a 'w'?

My broken mind can't find the answer to that. The only answer it has is that all of it was mere conjecture, an attempt at healing my fractured mind or whatever remains intact of it.

"Fucking hell."

I say those words towards no one in particular. If anything, they're just a way for me to release my stress and vent. Nothing more, nothing less. Even all this idle thought, this endless series of meaningless words that course throughout my head, is just a way to occupy time and conscious.

"Watch it, asshole!"

Something brushes past my shoulder. I hesitate to say someone because I don't even consider that person to be a human. Not in the literal sense, mind you, but the figurative, like how humans themselves think that being 'humane' is some kind of standard of greatness or whatnot.

What I mean to say, is that I don't acknowledge them as a 'entity'.

Even if I'd engaged in conversation with them, looked them in the eye, or shook hands, I doubt it would have made a difference.

And that's fine, Camille is fine with that. Bearing the burden of another person's existence on my mind is nothing but wasted space.

"Look at her. She's insane."

Something judges me. A foul utterance of words and adjective, deeming me as someone crazy. It makes me want to kill them. Not literally, to the extent where I would do so, but to the extent wherein an unfortunate case that they were to aggress me, that I would delightfully smash their face in.

I think those idle thoughts and remember my previous predicament. Yes, Molok, that boy. Him. My simultaneous saviour and hindrance. That which rescued my ass on several occasions and that which I refuse to let die. Speaking of the latter, why was I unwilling to sacrifice Molok? Was it a matter of me caring and placing the life of another over my own?

That's what I thought. But. In truth, I don't think I'll know. Not until a revelation passes by anyway. So far, though, it's been a good twenty-minute walk, and I still feel the same way. Hell, now I'm literally two steps away from where my body might be incinerated, and still, no revelation whatsoever.

My two feet lurch forward. Onto the cold concrete of the abandoned mall, I take a moment to steady myself and breathe.

Soon after, my eyes swirl around, scanning each nook and cranny. For all, it's worth, the images online match what I'm seeing.

If that's the case, then the plan should go accordingly.

Some time passes. I didn't bother to count precisely how long because there was no reason to. Beyond that, though, I was busy. Busy cementing the last roots of what was to come and preparing both my mind and body. According to Aedi's modus operandi (by which I heard from Molok), she's both fond of giving her victims ample time and carrying out her 'last rites' alone. Whether out of some sadistic torment or compassion, I'm not sure. Either way, though, it doesn't matter.

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Because sooner than I anticipate, she arrives.

Carrying herself in the same confident posture as before, with a swirl of her hair and a smile on her face, one would have to be incredibly dumb to mistake her for anyone else.

"So, this is the place you chose, huh?" Aedi says, with the high pitch of a woman who is moments away from devouring her prey.

"I and someone else, gotta give credit where credit is due."

"Oh, has the predicament of death sparked the dying embers of compassion in your heart?"

"Far from it."

What starts as an unanswered statement then turns into a shared silence. Aedi seems terribly calm, happy, but calm. There's a certain composure to her body and action that betrays her lack of fear. Her lack of perceived danger, so to speak, and hence, my lack of threat.

"Any last words?"

"Identify."

PROFILE

NAME: Aedi STATUS: ALIVE TITLE: Bounty Hunter CLASS: MAGICIAN RACE: HUMAN LEVEL: 11 STR: 17 DEF: 20 VIT: 90

DEX: 15 RES: 34 CHA: 8

Same old stats, as expected. Though, that doesn't undermine its utility. Gently, I drag the menu above my wrist and resize it to the length of my arm. Though it doesn't stick to my body, at the bare minimum, it does follow me around.

I half expected Aedi to respond or do something, but I guess she's too astounded. That, and just cocky, I suppose.

"So that's your Idiosyncrasy, Camille?"

"Yep, that's my super special ability I'm going to kill you with, satisfied?"

Aedi shrugs, then, as if ignoring my previous statement, asks, "Would you like me to perform your last rites?"

I'm not religious by any means, so if I had to choose how my body would be disposed of, then cremation would be nice.

"Not in particular, no, if preferable, I would like to be immortal, live forever, and outlast you."

"Understandable." She utters, her mouth a soft line. "How about family members or friends then, want to take a moment to contact them?"

"I'll pass."

"Then shall we begin?"

Those words are all the consolation I need. With a sigh, I let out the remaining qualms in my body.

In a moment, I enter a zone—a sort of mental state of all the things that's happened so far. The scene back at the apartment today, that fight in the ring a few days ago. I think back to all the blood and violence of those encounters. It's a strange feeling, but it creates what I can only call a mental image of my victory. I know it's stupid to think that just cause I won a few fights, I would win all of them. I know. But I know many things. And many of those knows and knowledges had been dispelled in a week.

I knew that I was a nobody. I knew that I was a side character in a world of protagonists. I knew that I had no special abilities.

I knew that I was a failure.

And yet here I am.

"Hey, Camille." Aedi says, speaking for the first time in a long while. "We're not so different, you and I."

"Yeah, I know."

"We could've been good friends, you and I."

"That, I'm not so sure of also, find some new words besides you and I."

I grin at the absurdity of my own statement.

The exchange of words then ends in another shift of glares and posture. We said we would start fighting a while back, but somehow that dialogue extended to yet another long series of words. I used to think dramatic dialogue like this only belonged in movies, but it seems it happens in real life after all.

I brace myself for another exchange, but something about Aedi's posture tells me otherwise. With a right hand in her coat, Aedi, the mage, smiles and points at me with her left.

"Hey Camille, good lu-."

The mage never finishes her words. Before she can react, a punch hits her directly in the throat. Unlike soft flesh, though, the feeling is more similar to hard concrete, no doubt reinforced by some magic.

In reaction, a thin layer of blue covers my body. A shield equivalent to 3 HP.

Armored Initiative: When user triggers the first blow in combat, grant a shield equivalent to 20% of their max health.

My fist surges back. But it doesn't matter. Because before it can do anything, Aedi catches it. Clasped between her hand, my left lunges in response. All that results in though, is both of my fists, now firmly trapped in another.

Her revealing right eye, a shining sphere of sun burns. Staring straight into my soul, she whispers but this.

"Now then, how would you like to die?"