Chapter 25: 23 | remember; the disgrace to the dead

[he is ruined by memories]

——xxx——

 A deep laugh rumbled from the Elias’ chest, honestly considering the ridiculous deal.

He’d been taken aback, shocked by the abrupt confession and request. Though from this stubborn fool, it felt more like a command that Elias was more inclined to deny than accept.

However, the strange apocalypse was something that came out of the blue, but it had brought entertainment to the dull everyday life. “I don’t need you to save my life. Let’s make a different deal.”

“What deal?”

“I don’t like being bored. So entertain me, Lucas Silvius. I’ll help you until I decide it’s not worth it anymore. And when that happens,”

“You’ll kill me.” finished Lucas calmly.

Elias paused. “Tempting, but no. It’d be a waste of a pretty face.”

“Then I’ll kill you.”

“…well, how exactly does that benefit me?”

“You can see this pretty face before you die.” Lucas answered with such shameless indifference, it could leave any person speechless.

Elias blinked, wondering how he’d never encountered this person who was under his command for so many years. He wasn’t quite sure whether the expressionless man was entirely interesting, or down-right irritating.

He smiled, returning his interest back onto the painting. Art was something subjective, witnessed differently in each persons’ sight.

For humans, everything was subjective, entitled to an opinion and idea.

Glancing back at Lucas who patiently waited—or zoned out—he wasn’t sure which, Elias wondered what sort of icon this man would become, would represent.

A saviour? A hero?

Those titles didn’t suit him, decided Elias to himself, as Lucas’ stare turned suspicious.

Lucas scowled. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m flattered you’re so curious about me.” replied Elias, not missing a beat. “Well, do you have a plan?”

Lucas sighed, realizing that he’d been forced into a conversation and plopped down onto the ground. Standing for too long wasn’t difficult, but unnecessary. A clean floor simply asked to be sat upon.

Sleepily resting his chin on a hand, he responded. “I’ll have to find the location of the protagonist. Initially, it should’ve been you that encountered him, but things probably changed.”

“The hero of your story, can you guarantee he’ll trust you? And is it necessary to search for him?”

“It’s necessary. I need to find him.”

Elias examined Lucas momentarily before quickly losing interest. Whatever emotional attachments the other seemed to have for this ‘protagonist’ wasn’t something of interest.

Instead, he pulled out a large envelope from under his arm, gone unnoticed during their earlier conversation.

“You made a request in the Story that I give these to you.”

Stretching out a hand, Lucas gathered it closer to him and flipped through the pages, confused. Although he remembered asking Elias, he didn’t remember writing the contents of the paper.

Mainly consisting of the events that would occur in the Story, and ideas of how to overcome death flags, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

Honestly, Lucas didn’t want to think too much about the details. It made his head ache, throbbing with unease.

“I see. I’ll need you to abandon your title for my… for the protagonist’s sake.” said Lucas calmly, skimming through.

“You’re not even asking?”

“If you won’t agree to give it, then I’ll simply take it.”

Elias smiled slyly, shrugging. “Then I suppose I’m left with no choice. It’s up to you to find your dear protagonist’s location, however.”

“Obviously.” Lucas’ lips tugged down, squinting with dark bags inking the skin under his eyes. He’d been in a short coma, but looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. “The original plan was to head to Washington. I was hoping to encounter a Story to collect some weapons.”

“Didn’t you enter one?”

“The wrong one.”

“You’re awfully picky.” smiled Elias sarcastically, tugging at the sleeves of his black button up, tucked half into his jeans and half lazily hanging out.

Lucas ignored him. The fans—the weapons he’d been hoping to find—were likely no longer there. He’d expected the Story to appear where planned, but it seemed that this was the sort that changed locations.

Regardless, the lack of an ideal weapon didn’t mean the end of the world.

“I’m looking for a hospital that specifically caters to children. That’s where Kane should be.”

“And where is that hospital?”

“Like hell I know.” Lucas offered an ‘isn’t that obvious’ look, and Elias paused.

“The author didn’t bother to create a location? I’d say that’s a lazy move, isn’t it?”

“The author is a lazy person.” replied Lucas simply, not adding anything else. Acting annoyed only fueled the other’s interest.

He flipped over one of the papers and held out a hand. Elias stared, before placing his gloved hand onto the other.

“…..” Lucas lowered his gaze, disgusted. “What are you doing?”

“You didn’t want me to hold your hand?”

“…a pen. Give me one.”

Elias made a nonchalant sound of acknowledgment, fishing through his pockets before placing a fine-tip pen into the open palms.

After grabbing it, Lucas flipped off the cap and begun drawing large strokes across the paper. The lines connected slowly, forming an angled pair of polite eyes, then a sharp nose and lips that remained a straight line, void of any smile.

The standing man, who’d initially intended to make a taunting remark of Lucas’ lack of saying ‘thank you’, watched with intrigue.

Lucas kept drawing, adding fine details, adjusting and scribbling certain areas as he molded the art into his imagination, trying his best to conjure up an image.

Finally, he pulled away and stared blankly at the paper.

A handsome man stared back, a heroic yet almost tragic stare and waves of black hair. An appearance that vaguely resembled himself, but with more maturity and calmness.

“Is that your protagonist?” wondered Elias, admiring the powerful strokes.

Lucas nodded, half dazed. “If you see somebody resembling this, let me know. I can’t guarantee he looks exactly like this, but it should be similar.”

“Isn’t it strange that you can draw such a detailed image despite it being just a character from your imagination?”

“That…”

Elias lifted his gaze, scrutinizing the other’s expression. The flicker of pain expressed in a twitch of the eyebrows, and narrowed eyes. Pressed lips, seeming to fight something in his thoughts.

It seemed suggesting reminders of Lucas’ brother didn’t bring back the memories. He was a little curious to what would happen if he said it aloud, but there was a possibility that the reaction may be a little deadly.

Not to mention, considering the ability of the scales, it was likely people were supposed to forget. Any mention of Kane Silvius being Lucas’ brother from Lucas himself should’ve been erased.

Therefore, people such as Nora or Rome couldn’t remind him of it.

Elias wondered what would happen when Lucas finally remembered. Or if. And what would happen if he never recalled that important sibling of his?

“Hey.” Lucas frowned, kicking his leg forward to nudge Elias’ foot. “Stop thinking about idiotic things.”

Elias blinked and tilted his head. “I’m thinking of you.”

“…..”

Lucas cursed under his breath, irritated. “The first Ranking is coming up, where others can challenge each other for their Titles. We’ll remain here and start our travels after.”

“Is that an invitation for me to come along?”

“No.”

A mock look of hurt crossed Elias’ expression, and Lucas shook his head. Even if he’d wanted this villain to come, there was a higher chance the other would say no.

Even if Elias agreed to the deal, that wouldn’t mean he’d be at Lucas’ beck and call. He blinked, an uncomfortable stirring in his chest.

Lucas gasped.

A rushing downpour crashed over his head, making his vision blur as his body swayed, unstable. He could make out the blurred face of Elias, the hazy voice calling his name.

Laughter rung in his ears like an eerie melody—Wren’s voice.

[I would’ve endured it for you, y’know? You just had to come back to life.] sighed the woman mournfully, laced with sarcastic indifference.

[I killed 5 people using your body, Lucas Silvius. Only two had what I wanted, and you’ll have to pay the price for reaping the rewards.]

His palms clamoured to grasp the floor, hoping for stability. Through gritted teeth, he cursed as many profanities as he knew while his vision zoomed, darkening and brightening.

Elias had crouched down in front of him, but that man wouldn’t help. Not that he could, even if he wanted to.

[Dead’s Disgrace. The ability to steal from those you’ve killed.]

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Lucas’ head burned, stabbed by a million tiny needles. He remembered her telling him this, but never the consequences.

She never warned him of the consequence.

[Ah, but such a dishonourable ability can’t come without a restriction, a sacrifice, right~?]

“What… is it?”

He was down on the ground now, cradling his head in spread palms, breathing unsteadily and gasping. Images flickered through his mind, disorganized and confusing.

And suddenly, he wasn’t there anymore.

The art exhibition vanished, replaced by a chilling, metal room with darkness creeping at the edge.

‘Won’t you die for me, Punisher?’

Lucas saw himself, the sardonic twist of his lips that was unlike his, and the crazy in the wide eyes. His body moved, except it wasn’t him.

Who was he?

In fact, the earlier words told him. Currently… he was in the Punisher’s body?

He watched, strangely, from a third person’s view as the body moved, jerking left and right while the other continued to rain down heavy strikes.

Yet, he felt the pain blooming on their mangled skin, the rushed beating that strummed against broken ribs, and the sluggish weight of this body that called for the darkness as a shield.

He heard the voices, the conversation that was both from him, and not.

The Punisher’s—his—mouth opened knowingly. “Do you regret letting him die?”

Wren’s stare was unnervingly calm, only a sliver of regret creeping at the corners. His body was drowning, sinking into death…

…and he felt every inch of it.

The other possessing his body shook her head and turned around.

A rainbow needle flickered in the air, high above him.

‘I don’t want to die. I want to live longer, freer. I want to escape this prison I’ve been forced to inhabit.’

Wren sliced through the chains that sealed the door with ease, resting a hand on the handle.

‘I wanted to see the world. Even disfigured as I am.’

Regret seeped into Lucas’ bones, a desperate longing for something that could be. For the skies that the Punisher had never seen, for the laughter that left him long ago.

These weren’t Lucas’ thoughts or feelings.

It was the Punisher’s dying will.

‘Am I a sinner for wanting more…? I survived my execution, I survived each round of the Story, I kept hoping. I hoped, I hoped, I hoped.’

Lucas gritted his teeth as the thoughts continued to flicker through his mind, filling him entirely until he could think of nothing else.

‘Why?’

Pure, drowning sorrow.

‘Why must my life end this way?’

And resignation. A fading hope that had persisted for so long, now burned away. Lucas fell silent, unable to resist the suffocating emotions as the needle crashed down over their heart.

The bright bloom of pain as it pierced, and the unshed tears.

A mind full of regret and lingering thoughts of the outside world until it couldn’t think no longer.

His eyes snapped open, and Elias’ face loomed over him.

But all Lucas could see what the flicker of words in the air, the robotic voice ringing in his mind.

[The skill of ‘Shadow Manipulation’ has been successfully reaped! The ability is as follows:

Description: Allows for the user to temporarily move shadows up to five minutes! Can cover an entire building in darkness, or steal away the darkness to expose.

Additional: The original owner of this skill was scared of being seen, using his ability to hide himself away from everybody else.]

“…..” Lucas fell into a stupor, confused and uncertain.

His chest still ached from where the needle pieced his—no, the Punisher’s chest before pain rushed through, fading into a dull throb of silence.

He’d stolen the man’s skill.

And at the same time, he’d stolen away his last memory, feelings and desires. The ability disgraced the dead, sharing the victim’s most hidden thoughts with their murderer.

Another drumming against his ribs, a rapid beat to his heart.

Wren had killed two that possessed an ability. That meant there was still one more memory to play through.

‘Damn you… Joker.’

Struggling, he raised his head to choke out a few words. “How… long?”

Elias stood up, glancing leisurely at the watch adorned on his wrist. “You were out for approximately 5 minutes. Don’t tell me you’re about to pass out again?”

Lucas opened his mouth to respond, before all the lights flickered once, then twice and finally, submerged then completely in deep, murky darkness.

The two men turn their heads at the same time out the glass panels, peeking into the outside skies, and see only darkness. Not even the dull hymn of the moon, or the bright laughter of the sun.

It had been early afternoon when they arrived.

And now, only hours later, a pitch, starless sky hung high in the air, a curtain of black draped over the awake city.

“The Starfall.” whispered Lucas through the pain.

For three days, the sun wouldn’t rise. Not even the solace of the stars or the moon could creep into the skies, leaving everything shroud in complete darkness. It signified the beginning of the Ranking.

The lights flickered again, and with a decisive click, the entire hall was illuminated again.

During the second Ranking, he vaguely recalled that the lights wouldn’t turn on again. Humanity would be subject to nothingness, relying on candles or other means of light.

It became an ominous sign, a warning of the disaster that would befall on those without Titles. He reminded himself to find Rome a proper one soon, before it was too late.

A crackle sounded in the unseen clouds, and rain thundered down, tumbling onto the pavement.

An especially sharp jolt of pain sends Lucas’ mind spinning into a different memory once again as he collapsed against the floor, entire expression distorted in agony.

Elias’ calm, cerulean gaze remained fixed on the window, a frown replacing his typical smile. The reflection of a cold, indifferent man reflected off the clear glass panels of artwork, his eyes narrowed and unbothered.

“Now, what should I do?”

A collapsed, shaking man on the ground and a day that had been painted in night. He turned to look at Lucas, silent in contemplation.

He’d made a deal, after all. He supposed it’d be ill-mannered to leave the other alone, though he wasn’t entirely inclined to help him.

It would be unfortunate if Lucas died from sickness, or whatever strange happenings that were occurring in his head. Elias didn’t quite want to see this man die in such a pathetic way.

Thinking that, he bent down and gently rolled the body closer before gathering the heavy weight into his arms. Heavy, but light for an adult his age.

Did this sponge even eat properly?

His kitchen had been completely empty, and showed no signs of use. Lucas’ lack of nutrition was hidden by the layers of muscle, built and sculpted from numerous fights.

He stepped outside in the rain with a lack of cover, both parties immediately drenched through. The city was silent, lost in their own muddled thoughts and tragic farewells.

The streetlights were few, and the light dimly lit the path. A short groan escaped Lucas’ lips as he curled further into himself, struggling in Elias’ hold.

For a second, his eyes fluttered open weakly, immediately narrowing at the sight of the face above. Elias noticed, allowing a relaxed smile to transform his frown. “Awake, sleeping beauty?”

“Go to hell.”

“Aren’t I kindly carrying you back right now?” To make it more obvious, he added a jump to his step, which tossed Lucas’ body slightly, making the man grit his teeth in discomfort.

"I don't like noisy people."

Elias grinned. "Then I'm sure you'll love me, darling."

Lucas eyebrows were drawn taut as he said, "You—"

"Although," continued Elias with a loose, laughing smile. "I'm not much of a lover. Though for you, I can make an exception."

The half-conscious man sighed, the pain pulsing in his mind and making the sight of the other all the more irritating. He quietly closed his eyes again, playing dead.

Elias noticed, and his smile dropped once deciding that Lucas had likely passed out again.

Remaining silent, he continued the walk without another word.

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