Chapter 23: 21 | alive; the persistence of chaos

Lucas watched the entire spectacle play out from another dimension of sorts, floating mindlessly in a strange pocket of space where he could see everything and nothing at the same time.

He’d assumed that he would immediately return to life after the transaction concluded, but instead he was stuck here.

‘How annoying.’ complained the man with a mumbled curse under his breath. From Wren’s gaze, he narrowed his attention down onto Nora and Rome.

It’d been relatively simple finding the papers, though they’d put their lives at risk several times. The sizeable crowd had diminished by large numbers, killed during their searches for evidence.

His attention flickered to the impassive expression on Sylvia’s face as she watched, before decisively turning away.

A cold-blooded woman, one might say, considering her heartless and unflinching actions that would bring another to doom. She’d spared Rome and Nora by gathering evidence to protect herself, and in turn, take the crime off their hands.

Not to mention, her connection with Elias…

He saw the way the rose, straight lips twitched downwards upon meeting eyes with that careless guard; the way her sharp eyes hesitated and narrowed, while the other raised a hand to wave.

Elias.

An unpredictable variable.

Then, a pair of deep blue eyes strayed, roaming across the chaos of prisoners before landing right on his.

The corner of the man’s lips curved in amusement, and Wren, who currently possessed Lucas’ body jerked her head away hastily.

Lucas flinched from the space he inhabited, startled by the sudden eye contact. Of course, there was no way that Elias could’ve known that the real Lucas had been watching.

The man curled up his legs, peering curiously, as if an otherworldly being watching over the world. His eyes reflected the mirages before him, dissecting expressions and observing carefully.

In this space, at least, he could organize his thoughts.

Elias still hid too many secrets for Lucas to even consider trusting him. A deal would be akin to making a gamble with the devil.

Wren, whose name was already inked besides his on that paper, wouldn’t cooperate with him if he messed up. She needed the best, and Lucas didn’t know if he could be that.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to put on a show.

Nora was useful, and seemed to have great potential in the future. The woman who would eventually hold the title [Bloody Ivy] could become a great companion to Kane.

As for Rome, the boy’s unwavering trust didn’t go unnoticed by Lucas. He wasn’t sure what abilities that child would develop, but he wouldn’t abandon him either.

‘Kane, who would be useful to you? What should I do for your success?’

Then, Lucas froze.

Kane?

Pain roared in his mind, twisting and pulling his to pieces as his eyes flung open, wide and screaming. Images rushed in his head, blinding his sight as he clutched the side of his head, scrunching up his eyebrows.

The world seemed to blur around him, rushing and moving in illusions of twists and turns.

Who the hell was Kane?

And why did it hurt to not know?

Almost as if something had directly torn a chunk of himself, leaving nothing but a gaping wound that trembled in fear for what had been lost. So abrupt and impossible to understand, these spiraling emotions of his.

It wasn’t a physical pain that he felt, but pure mental anguish that corroded his every single thought and breath, making him gasp for air.

Sometimes, it was feelings that truly condemned a person.

He tried to shift through his thoughts. He’d been thinking of everything clearly, so clearly, until the mention of…

…who?

Just as quickly as the turbulence had come, it vanished and he was left feeling emptier than before. Lucas removed his hands, staring with an empty sight at the images flashing before him in Wren’s perspective.

Wren. Elias. Nora. Rome. Sylvia. He knew who they were, remembered how they’d met. Didn’t he?

It was something to worry about when reason disagreed with instinct, as his mind said something that his self protested against.

A novel. He remembered a novel. That’s how he knew of Nora’s ability, that’s how he decided to form a deal with Wren. But why? He was distinctly aware that he intended to protect somebody, save them from tragedy.

Kane…

…the protagonist of the novel he wrote.

His mind cleared, breathing slowly stabilizing as he followed that train of thought to make clear of his tangled memories. He wanted to desperately save the main character he created, because that man was somebody he adored.

That was it, right? Although his instinct warned him that he was missing a certain, crucial aspect.

Nothing felt strange, however. His desire for living didn’t burn or flourish, although he never sought death either.

Having a reason or purpose to live gave him meaning in the aimless wandering of life, so for him to pinpoint a target he wished to save felt reasonable.

All he knew, was that while his memories of this person called ‘Kane’ were limited, the protagonist was somebody who brought wild feelings of admiration and love. 

Not the romantic kind, but the sort that created feeling of warmth akin to a home.

Lucas curled up once again, keeping one eye on the faded images as Nora begun to approach the stand. The copy of the letter to Andrew’s son, the showing of Andrew’s mental disorder and his unhealthy obsession to cleanliness.

His fear of his wife, and a detailed transcription of both his mental health and his strength. Elias had slipped in some information to confirm Andrew’s right-handed self, as well as the other mental aliments which further proved how unlikely it was for him to have been the murderer.

Lucas wondered what sort of family they had.

An abusive wife, a poor husband trying to protect his only reason for living, and a child forced to bear witness to society’s cruelty from a young age.

Lucas’ mother had always held high expectations for—

“……”

For him. His mother had always held high expectations for him? Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. No, his mother had expected nothing of him when he failed to meet her standards.

He loved her, as children were expected to love their mothers. That was no lie, and his feelings were genuine from the care and attention she gave.

She’d been strict, and Lucas had been the one to fail her. Although she never reprimanded or scolded him, the way her expectations and hope slowly dimmed didn’t escape the young boy’s eyes.

The moment she decided that he wasn’t capable of something brilliant, or incredible. That he was another boy growing up to be another regular person.

[A conclusion has met the requirements!]

As his thoughts begun to wander, red flashed through the images and everything dripped with a deadly red.

Wren’s loud laughter rung out as she danced around the yard, tossing a few severed heads into the horrified crowd.

“Yeah, yeah. I completed the Story didn’t I? I proved my innocence and all that. Doesn’t that mean I’m free now?”

[The soul story of ‘Death by Accusation’ is closing…]

She grinned, twirling one of the guard’s batons that she’d stolen in the scuffle. “I haven’t broken any rules, dear, wonderful characters~”

Lucas sighed. Back with that annoying to watch performance.

The woman, up to no good, as always. She’d be in for a surprise when he reclaimed his body, although likely satisfied.

However, seriously, what was she doing in his body?

He didn’t really want to imagine the sight everybody else was seeing in the crowd right now. Lucas decided to save his sanity, and not think further about it.

Until he glanced back at the screen and saw a certain man, holding a certain object in his hand. There was a bright flash and the click of a camera, and Lucas’ face went blank.

“…..”

‘I’m going to murder that damned man.’

He turned his gaze away, shaking his head to himself. Back to the matter on hand—Wren would likely ally herself with him properly once he returned a second time.

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Ultimately, when one was shown a sliver of hope, no matter how foolish or ridiculous it was, they wouldn’t want to abandon it. Lucas could given Wren what she wanted, and she wouldn’t give that up so easily.

As he watched, he realized that her killings her intentional.

She targeted certain people without mercy, lashing out and laughing wildly, almost as if she were a Teller herself. That wouldn’t be completely false.

The floor was unfolding into sheets of paper, bringing an end to the Story. She leaped away from the spread while on one end, the few that remained were judged and on the other, was Wren’s brutal slaughter.

Nora rushed to gather Rome before sprinting towards the torn sheets on the ground, lunging while avoiding any injuries.

A guard’s blade nicked her on the shoulder, revealing a terrible gash as her face scrunched up in pain. Rome yelled out, horrified wide eyes staring at the wound.

Hands rushed out to grab them before being yanked away by Wren, who coolly glanced over at the escaping pair.

“Ha. That idiot’s companions, hm?”

She didn’t target anybody who successfully proved their innocence.

She only aimed for those destined to die in the Story.

Blood splattered left and right, disconnected limbs and gruesome wounds gaped while the survivors screamed maniacally. Red splattered on the side of the woman’s cheeks, and Lucas saw a hand raised to wipe it off the side carelessly.

It was really weird witnessing his body move while under the control of somebody else.

She lunged forward, slamming the baton on one of the guard’s face until it became more and more distorted, leaving a bloody pulp of a mess. One of the ones that had heartlessly murdered a prisoner during the previous days.

Then she threw her head back, dropping the baton with a curse.

Lucas felt a throbbing pull at the back of his head as the air in the space around him suddenly stagnated, suffocating him.

“Damn…” grumbled the woman, her voice blurring with his own. Darkness befell his vision once more and a faint smile crept onto the man’s lips at realization.

“So you’re still alive, Lucas?”

———xxx———

Elias stared out of the wide office windows, spanning from the ceiling to the floor as it overlooked the chaotic city. He often found himself looking outside at the mundane life, the tall modern buildings and the crowd that bustled together pointlessly.

He bent his wrist, swirling the cup of coffee in his hand with a bored gaze. Although now, the scene portrayed outside was that of people disappearing and appearing out of nowhere, and broken cars of the occasional corpse.

Fights, shouting, arguments. The apocalypse didn’t necessarily paint a new picture, it brought the more hidden darkness to light.

Arrogance, the divide between strong and weak, the ridiculous clinging desperation of the pathetic and damned. Sunlight basked the city’s streets in a warm amber despite the notions occurring down below.

Soon, even the sun would refuse to warm this land.

And perhaps, then, he would bear witness to a sight worth seeing. A sight more honest that the false facades each person continued to display.

Elias’ thoughts begun to stray, though a part of his vigilance remained around him, a habit of his. He’d lost everything, once.

And now he could have whatever he wanted.

The irony of it.

With a light laugh, he turned away and walked over to his marble counter, picking up a small ticket displayed at the corner. The front’s designs were of intricate gold, a welcome to some unknown Story.

He flipped it over, staring at the empty white.

Then, as he blinked, a flash of words were scribbled across. His fingers hesitated, before he placed down the cup and offered his attention to the words.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think you can offer some advice? I’m in a difficult position.’

Elias paused, before glancing around for a pen. After finding one neatly tucked away in a drawer, he answered, speaking the words aloud as he wrote.

“Well, it would depend on what advice you need.”

The answer came quickly. ‘I’ve mentioned going through Stories with a partner, haven’t I? He had suddenly collapsed and seems to be in a coma, but I can’t sense any abnormalities. I believe it’s a side effect caused by the Story we left.’

“He didn’t hit his head or injured himself in any way?”

‘No, I don’t believe so. I’ve done a brief examination, but his state is strange. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.’

“Describe his condition for me.”

There was a brief pause, before beautiful writing flowed across the page again.

‘As I mentioned, he seems to be in a sleeping state. He’s not breathing, but shows no other signs that a corpse should show after death. His body is cold to the touch, but there are no signs of injury.

‘Although he may be dead… is it strange to say that I don’t want to believe that?’

A sentimental woman.

At that point, it would be better to abandon the presumed dead companion and continue on, focusing on survival rather than the slim hope of a cold body coming back to life.

Of course, that wasn’t to say the situation wasn’t strange. Human bodies deteriorated both in life and death, but especially so during the latter.

For the aftereffects of death to not plague the body… well, didn’t that sound interesting?

Elias hummed, thinking about a response. When he received the ticket as a reward he had carelessly started up a conversation with the person on the other side seeing as he had nothing better to do.

She seemed to be an intelligent woman, well-versed in medical studies. A useful ally during these times, though he had little interest in finding companions.

It seemed like whatever Story this ticket led to, she would be his partner. Therefore, it wasn’t pointless to strike a few conversations here and there. Since he had some free time, perhaps he could go over and take a look?

The apocalypse’s tricks were something he was well-versed in, after all.

“Where are you located? If you trust me, I can take a look.”

Not to mention, there had been an interesting person on the other side last time he talked, no doubt the companion of the woman.

‘If you could, that would be lovely, thank you! My name is Nora Nilsen.’

The pen that was moving stopped midair, and Elias revealed a rare look of surprise. A short laugh escaped his lips as he wondered if this was what they called a coincidence.

“And what is your companion’s name?”

‘Lucas Silvius.’

So he wasn’t dead.

The thought that wandered into Elias’ mind somehow delighted him, strangely enough. A faint spark of joy, hardly noticeable. Yet the man’s lips tugged into an amused smile as he brought the pen down again.

Ah, an irritating fool that would probably be better off dead. What would it take for him to stay down?

Even when Lucas was under his command, though it was more in name than action since the man decided to disobey any order Elias could possibly give, he’d been a wild card.

A powerful ally, sure, though Elias always wondered what it’d be like to have that delinquent fighting on the opposite side. 

A good ally was helpful but boring, a skillful enemy was intriguing. He'd rather make an ally of the trustworthy, and an enemy of the unpredictible.

It wasn’t unexpected when he saw that girl possess Lucas’ body, claiming that man to be dead. After all, Elias never expected people to live too long, especially in a period when all were fated to die.

And honestly, Lucas reeked of trouble, from his every lazy move, or indifferent twitch of his mouth.

Those defiant pure white eyes, rumoured to wreck havoc.

But Elias, a man who’d grown bored and weary of life, had found a spark of interest. A fleeting one that would likely perish in one of the next few Stories, but that was fine.

“I’ll head over shortly.” Signed, Elias.

Until that man fell victim to the ruined world, Elias would bear witness to his tragedy.

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