Chapter 18: 16 | deal; a promise to forget

[i will renounce humanity for the sake of you]

——xxx——

"All right, get in line! Move!" The back of a baton continuously jabbed at Lucas' back, forcing him to follow the group of prisoners, herding together like livestock. They were being moved into a pitch black room, shuffling in confusion.

Elias had dragged him here, then ran off to mess around. It would be ideal to find somebody he knew, whether it be that bothersome guard, or Nora and Rome.

The open doors that had been the only source of light closed.

Just as the muttering among the crowd grew chaotic and panicked, a blinding spotlight blasted onto the front of the room, and Lucas squinted in irritation.

"What the hell is this?" A voice shouted, pushing through the crowd.

Another banged on the door. "Let... let me out, let me out! You can't do this!"

"Damn it! Screw you!"

Lucas kept his eyes on the front, or more specifically, the woman's statue that towered over them, the top of her stone hair grazing the ceiling. In her two, outstretched arms, she held a scale.

The Scale of Justice.

This was the life-saving item that Lucas needed, in order to survive a torture session with the Punisher. In the novel, his brother won Lady Justice's favour with his light and pure soul, untainted by any misdeed.

She granted him the reward as a blessing.

The balance allowed him to exchange two equivalent things, by weighing it on the scale. If the thing was of the same value, it could be exchanged.

Kane placed his kindness on the scale in replacement for his life. In the end, that price had become something cruel to the man, conflicted between his desire to save and the apathy in his chest from having given away that emotion.

Of course, what was exchanged could still be regained. But for a while, the gentle protagonist went on a heartless rampage.

For Lucas, such a thing was impossible. He'd killed, stolen, injured—he was the very opposite of his older sibling.

Of course, what she was judging currently wasn't the quality of their souls. So although he couldn't win her favour, he wouldn't die either.

The prisoners were required to step up onto the platform, with the leading stairs that dangerously hung over an empty chasm. There, they'd speak the crime they committed aloud, and if it was incorrect, they'd meet their deaths.

This Lady Justice was a fake, constructed by the story. Despite this, her power was undeniable, and it was a fact that she treated those with pure souls more kindly.

"...mister." A quiet voice called out to him, interrupting his flow of thoughts.

Lucas glanced down at the expressionless boy, blinking his large eyes calmly at him. However, the small hands that gripped the fabric trembled slightly.

The man crouched down to meet the boy's eyes. "Rome. Do you know what crime you're being accused of?"

If the child said no, then Lucas would give the answer. But, he would also leave Rome in the care of somebody else—somebody who could protect the boy in whatever way he needed.

That person could not be himself.

Rome lowered his eyes softly, before nodding his head. In fact, the child wasn't stupid enough not to be aware of the other's feelings. In the innocent mind of the boy, the man before him was a saviour.

But that didn't mean life gave things for free, and even if Lucas was kind, Rome didn't believe that he could pathetically follow behind and still be saved.

The bruises on his body, scars from long ago, reminded him of that fact.

If he could be helpful, no, he needed to be helpful, then the boy wouldn't be abandoned again. If he was good, then he wouldn't be punished again.

But more importantly, Rome wanted to stay by this adult's side.

The only person that would lower himself to meet the lonely boy's gaze.

Rome kept his expression as straight as he could, attempting to display a matureness he didn't have. "Nora and I... we sneaked into the filing room and found our criminal sentences."

It was a simple thing to say, but there was a reason why Lucas didn't enter the heavily guarded filing room. It wasn't worth the trouble considering the dangers, and he wouldn't enter it unless there were absolutely no other options.

He narrowed his eyes, and pulled up the long, baggy sleeves that covered the boys arm. Several thick layers of bandages wrapped around, already slowly becoming stained with blood.

Rome winced, clamping his teeth shut tightly as he shivered.

"How many injuries?"

"I-I'm okay—"

"How many?" repeated Lucas with a steady expression, leaving no room for argument.

The boy lowered his eyes, trembling slightly. "Four."

Four, deep gashes bled out on his body, having been re-wrapped several times after bleeding out. In fact, it was hard for the boy to move around and sweat dripped down his back from the struggle.

To avoid the guards, Nora had distracted them while Rome took advantage of his small stature to rush into the room. Both returned with heavy wounds, in an almost half-death state.

Thankfully, a masked guard helped them wrap their wounds, allowing them to persevere for a little longer. He'd disappeared before they could thank him.

Lucas sighed, and ruffled Rome's hair. "Good job."

Rome's eyes immediately lit up at the praise, any remnants of pain long forgotten.

The first person was called to the scale as the statue's mouth parted open, twisting into a smile as she announced a single name.

The man trembled, frantically looking around as the crowd parted around him, forcing him to move. With shaking limbs, he walked painstakingly slow up the dangling steps, swallowing when he looked down.

Sharp metal gleamed at the bottom, mixed with faint snarls of hunger and eerie humming.

He stumbled onto the scale, and it immediately started to sway left and right. As his body clung to the golden plate, a woman's voice sung.

<Come now, state your crime?>

"C-crime? I, I don't know!"

<Failure to answer will result in death.>

"I—"

<Failure to answer will result in death.>

<You have 30 seconds left. Please state your crime, dear sinner.>

The man jerked his head to the crowd, pleading but everybody averted their eyes. However, one steady gaze remained fixated ahead.

Lucas would not turn away from death.

<Your time is up.> The scales begun to swing more violently as the man's screams rebounded off the enclosed walls. <The punishment is death.>

Loud cackling erupted from the statue who bared her wicked teeth, wide eyes gleaming at the sacrifice in her hand.

"Ahhhhh! Help, help me, please!"

A long piece of stone wrapped around the man's ankles before he fell with a piercing shriek into the woman's open mouth.

Crunch—

The screaming abruptly stopped and the woman's expression quickly assumed its normal position. A smear of blood painted her stone lips, making her seem more alive.

Ready and hungry for another sacrifice.

Terror instantly washed over the crowd, sounds of people sobbing and throwing up filling the air.

Lucas watched as a person broke free of the crowd, rushing into the chasm. With no hesitation, he hurled himself over and fell.

A sickening crunch was heard, along with the slobbering of something chewing meat.

Crunch, Crunch.

Others banged on the doors desperately, but it refused to budge. All the while, people continued to be called up in a random order.

The current name had been repeated three times, but nobody walked to the scale.

Were they scared? Or did they simply not discover the identity of the role they were playing?

The statue fell into silence before she released a hand from the scales, inch by inch, dragging a pointed figure towards the mass of people.

Without warning, she thrust the finger forward, and the sharpened nail pierced an unsuspecting woman's chest. It wriggled on the nail, blood splattering onto the ground.

Tugging the corpse on the ground to leave a red smear, it dragged the woman's body to the chasm before tossing it in.

More crunching of bones followed.

Then, a slender woman was called to the front. She walked up gracefully, as if her clothes were fitted to complement her figure, and with no fear in her eyes.

Lucas recognized the colour of her hair from back in the cafeteria, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Once again, the statue spoke.

<Come now, state your crime.>

The woman's pale lips parted, but nobody could hear what she was saying. However, a second later, the scale trembled into a steadying position, and a pathway opened through the statue's chest.

For a second, the woman glanced back to find something in the crowd before she quickly walked away.

Rome's small hands grasped at Lucas' shirt tightly, a slight frown on the boyish face. "That lady..."

<Prisoner Andrew Vez.>

You are reading story Of Everlasting End at novel35.com

Lucas had been called up. He patted the boy lightly, and somewhat awkwardly, before walking to the stairs.

Among the pale faces and sobbing people, Lucas stood out, especially because of his temperament. Good-looking people could be found anywhere, but people who carried themselves with such leisure arrogance were rare.

He was like a simmering fire, ready to explode at any second.

If the elegantly annoying Elias was like the serene, watching water with mystery hidden in his depths, Lucas would be the crackling fire, violent and spontaneous.

It was always amusing, because at a glance, one would not suspect such a quiet, indifferent person to bristle with violence. 

They would assume things to be the opposite, that Lucas was simple and calm when he was anything but.

And perhaps that contradiction was the particularly fascinating thing about that man.

He walked up, yawning loudly with his hands pressed into his pocket. His hair was messier than usual, being woken suddenly and dragged over.

The statue seemed disappointed at his lack of fear, its lips curling down. He walked over to the left scale as he witnessed the others doing, as the balance begun to sway dangerously.

He quickly sat down, crossed legs as he planted his palms onto the ground. Although the uneven swinging enlisted fear of falling, the statue couldn't kill him unless the requirements were met.

Therefore, he wouldn't fall off until the time was up, or he answered incorrectly.

In the crowd, Nora noticed his movements, whispering into Rome's ears. At the very least, it was better not to be stressed over falling off at the beginning.

She stood beside the boy protectively, aware of the dangers within the people themselves, those who wanted to use and discard lives as they pleased.

Before the statue could answer, Lucas opened his mouth to announce loudly,

"My crime is for being too good-looking."

The entire room immediately fell silent. 

Even those throwing up choked, glancing up at the shameless voice.

The statue also became speechless, before Lucas began to feel the sway of the scale become more violent. 

In a lower, hushed whisper, the corner of his lip tugged up faintly. "Don't you want to see something interesting, Lady Justice?"

He'd put on a good show.

For the sake of earning Lady Justice's interest and getting the scales, he wouldn't mind using the people here.

The scales faltered for a bit, but continued to sway.

He turned to the crowd. "If you don't know your crime, as long as you state a true crime you've committed, you can survive."

Lucas was a liar and a scum.

"See?" said the man smoothly in a soft tone, lukewarm eyes boring into the listening crowd. "The scales stopped moving."

He turned around and quietly whispered, "My crime is murder. The murder of 'my' wife."

The passage in the statue's chest burst open, but to the crowd, it was as if the woman had accepted his earlier answer of being too good-looking. Of course, it sounded awfully suspicious and unlikely... but looking closely at the person on the stage...

The way he carried himself really was too good-looking.

Suddenly, the mood among the people changed, and those banging on the doors rushed forward with hope. The ones that had discovered their true crime lurked behind, watching the spectacle.

However, the desperate and destined for death, pushed and shoved towards the stage, shouting all sorts of dark secrets.

"I-I lied to my sister that her boyfriend had fallen out of love with her, so I could date him instead!"

"I slept with my best friend's brother, and broke... broke up with him!"

"I-I-I killed... I killed my baby brother! I'm sorry, forgive me!"

The secrets ranged from smaller things, such as stealing, to more terrible descriptions of deceit and abuse. Lucas pursed his lips at the horrific words mentioned in the crowd, peering at the messy violence.

However, behind the secrets were complicated histories that he'd never know.

Among the people, Nora made eye contact with Lucas, pressed against a wall to avoid accidentally being thrown into the chasm or sacrificed in the scuffle. The woman's gaze didn't waver, though the knitted eyebrows revealed her confusion.

Whether Nora was disillusioned by his lies or not, he didn't care.

He nodded at her once, before turning towards the light, turning away from the chaos.

What waited for him outside of the room was a relaxed figure, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. The sunlight bathed him in a strange warmth that was unsuited to his cold eyes, despite the smile that graced his lips.

Elias raised an eyebrow, somewhere between pleased and surprised at the other's survival.

Lucas walked over to him without a rush, squinting at the brightness of the skies. He glanced over at the man beside him. 

"Why are you the only person with the 'guard' role?"

The man didn't seem to be surprised by the question. He turned his head outside to watch the enormous building and the setting sun behind it. "There are several people with special roles."

"Is yours a special role? Or is there a reason for your unique status?"

Elias didn't seem to be in any danger, his roles always something exclusive to him. While Lucas watched the man falling asleep outside his cell, or lounging around the other prisoners, there was always something that stood out.

Elias didn't seem to be playing a part of the Story. No, he seemed to be observing, watching. 

A bystander.

"And why should I answer your question?"

"I'm curious."

At the blunt response, as if claiming that his mere curiosity meant Elias' agreement, the man laughed out loud, chuckling to himself.

"Unfortunately," said Elias slowly, "I have no intention of answering your questions."

"No matter what?"

For some inexplicable reason, Lucas felt as if the mystery behind Elias was something necessary to figure out. However, the man was stubborn, as he was unwilling.

"How about if you call me 'boss', subordinate?"

Lucas didn't hesitate to call out, "Sure, boss."

"....." Elias had underestimated Lucas' lack of shame or care in regards to most things. 

Such a thing as pride? What was that? Lucas didn't care what he had to do to achieve the goals he wanted.

The wind blew past, and there had yet to be another person who walked down the pathway. Lucas wondered if they'd all died, scattered and foolish, sobbing in their final breaths.

He wondered if Nora and Rome survived.

But there was another reason he stopped to speak to Elias. Talking to the Punisher was necessary to get an understanding of the apocalypse, but to survive, he had to sacrifice something extraordinary.

Kane's kindness had been something incredible, almost mystical. Lucas didn't have that.

What did he have that had the same value as his life?

Sure, he didn't put his life on that high of a pedestal, but living alone was something of high cost, high value. 

Any skills? Talents? In-born traits?

The only other option was another life to balance it out, but he wouldn't do that.

But then, staring at the darkening skies, he remembered one thing that he did have. To him, it had more value than anything else in the world. His sole reason for living.

His memories of Kane.

One might wonder if such a thing could really rival the weight of one's life, but for Lucas, those memories were the one thing keeping him grounded to the world. A reason to live versus a life.

It could balance out. He'd try, at least.

Things lost could be found. His memories could be recovered, but he didn't know when or how. He needed Kane to exist in some way, not as the brother who he desperately sought, but a person he wanted to live for.

The character of a story.

A protagonist he dearly wanted to save.

He'd written down most of his thoughts on paper, and while they couldn't recreate the pure, emotion-filled memories he had, they could stand as a replacement.

Lucas didn't need a reason to live, he needed a reason to save Kane. And after that, even if his memories never returned, he thought it'd be fine.

"Under the mattress, there's a pile of papers. Please give it to me after the Story ends."

Elias smiled. "And what do I get from that, hm?"

"I'll make you a deal worth waiting for." Those cloudless, pale eyes didn't waver in his words, drawing the watcher into their emptiness.

Elias tilted his head curiously.

"Well then, I'll look forward to it." The man pushed himself off the wall, and began walking away, his shadow blurring with the dimming light.

"Try to survive to the end, Lucas Silvius."