The rain downpours from the widespread skies; and showers the surface, unbidden. Thick, dark mist in the sky shrouded the blue; and had hit the sun, significantly benighting the day. In this rain; a certain blue car drove way past the speed limit.
Tristan drove his car; slamming down his feet on the gas. He zoomed down the streets with his brows perpetually furrowed.
Milton—Tristan's older brother—was in the front passenger seat of the vehicle. He had been growing impatient. They were loosing time. He glanced at Tristan as he drove. "You're a bit fast today, Tris. What's the matter?"
Tristan glimpsed at him, and focused on the room again. "You're such a fool, Milton. I had to pay almost all I've got to bait you out of jail. There were cameras in the streets. That day you attacked us in the road; you were caught. You're revealing our power to them."
"That's," Milton said, "because we're running out of time, Tristan. You're too soft. You could have terminated that 'Jin' a long time ago; and we would have had the task completed. He's a successor, Tristan. If we take him out, we both get to live. It's a—"
"For the last time," Tristan snapped, "I'm not gonna kill my friend. We'll find some other successor; and when we do we'll terminate him. You can change your mind about turning me on Jin now, thank you.
"I'm getting … tired of you, Milton. I finally understand what Mom and Dad were saying about you. You really are a huge disappointment. Don't even get me started on how edgy you are!"
"You're the one shouting at me right now," replied Milton. I'm the eldest sibling. What I say goes."
"You're the eldest sibling yet you're in my car 'cause you don't have one," Tristan put back, narrowing his eyes at him.
"That's because Mom and Dad don't like me like they like the rest of you. They despise me. All they give me is food, and shelter and nothing else. No love. No respect."
"They would've done the same thing if I were the one doing drugs, Milton. This doesn't have anything to do with them being biased," Tristan gave his attention to Milton for a while, and then looked at the road again.
Milton sighed. "Look, Tris, I don't wanna die at all. I have things to do what my life. Things to fix with my life. You're the one who brought me into this 'system-world' of madness, Tristan."
Tristan glimpsed at him. "I saved you that day, Milton. You should be grateful. A Disciple is better than being dead. I saved you."
"You ruined my life," Milton snapped.
"No," Tristan said, "you ruined your life. You thought you could just relax because our family's wealthy. You thought you could be slack, and be led astray. Look at what that has led to. I just don't get—"
"That's why I need to live," Milton chimed in, "how am I suppose to fix my life when dead? I … need to live, Tristan. You don't get how passionate I've become about fixing my mistakes. I want to … make a change.
"I haven't set the right example for my siblings. Instead I caused sibling rivalry. I haven't done anything with my life other than drugs. I have," he averted his eyes, frowning, "a son."
Tristan looked at him in surprise. His lips parted. He didn't know what his brother was facing all along. Milton's parents stopped giving money to him to avoid his purchasing of drugs. But all along he needed the money for his son. He was a nineteen-year-old father.
Tristan didn't bother saying anything related to what Milton's just said. He slowed the car down a bit, and focused on the road for a bit. After a while; he had asked, "How long … how long do we have again?"
"Two weeks," Milton replied, "then we're dead."
Tristan sighed; pulling his car aside. He quickly put the car in park, but he kept his hands on the steering wheel. "Milton. I'm sorry. For everything. Ever since everyone realized that you were on drugs, we've gotten too hard on you.
"Mom and Dad were too harsh, and they didn't have to stop talking to you, and caring about you. But I've been going through a lot of stuff recently as well.
"I feel like I'm not doing enough. Doing a lot was the reason why I played Grim that much in the past. But now, I don't feel accomplishment. I've lost weight, and whatever but I still feel depressed.
"Our father has affairs with many other women. My mother is being abused. I have a system that puts me in danger over and over again. Then, there's the fact that I'm worried about you. And finally, my friends.
"My friends have been through a lot this rainy summer. I feel it for them. Jin—the same person you want to kill—lost final bits of family recently. After that, he's changed. He attacked me and Dobby a week or two ago.
"He's lost it. I don't even know him anymore. Then, there's Dobby. Dobby was different after witnessing pure atrocity from a recent betrayal, which Jin himself had also experienced. They told me that they all had almost been killed that day, and I won't there for them.
"I thought Ashton would be the last person on Earth to change. But I guess," he frowned, "I'm wrong. My system allows me to tap into emotions better than any other person. And in doing so, he realized just how depressed Ashton was. His depression was stemmed by Jin.
"With all this, I feel as if my entire world is being torn apart. Everything I have is slowly being plundered by despair and evil. And I … I can't do anything about it."
Milton placed his hand upon Tristan's shoulder. Tristan raised his head, and looked at him. Milton smiled. "It's okay, Tristan. We all have our struggles. I just thought you were perfect. I'm still surprised that even you have problems."
"I'm sorry I can't help you, Milton. I really am."
"What are you talking about? You still can. We have two weeks. If I live, I'll fix my mistakes. And if you live, you can build the world of yours that is falling asunder. We can do it, Tristan. We can find a Successor other than Jin."
Tristan smiled. "You know what? You're right. We can do it. Let's find a Successor. It won't be easy finding him. Nor would it be easy fighting him. But … let's do our best …"