Chapter 8: 07 | regret; a thoughtful memory

[the throne calls for its king]

——xxx——

"What do you plan to do, Lucas?" wondered Nora, examining her car that had been spared from the earthquake. However, there seemed to be damage somewhere, as it refused to start.

Lucas lifted his gaze, leaning against the open door as she fussed with a few buttons. 

A distance away from them, where the clock tower he often frequented had crumbled, shaped and molded into a strange, ominous design. There was a staircase in the center of the mound, sleek and smooth.

At the top, a pitch black throne stood, pulsing with a slicing eeriness, daring anybody to approach.

The Forsaken Throne.

In fact, it should have a plural 's' at the end, as there were four spread around the world. One in China, India, United States and Indonesia. 

The countries with the largest populations. For each of the Thrones, a Catalyst would be designed to protect it. 

From those who wished to claim it for their own.

The hierarchy worked in a manner that followed these rules. There were four 'Kings'—heroes blessed with a title based off strength. It wasn't entirely certain for what reason the original four were granted their titles, but it was without a doubt that they all possessed reasonable influence.

The King of Hearts, the King of Spades, the King of Clovers, and the King of Diamonds.

They were Characters with the power to bless other humans with Titles, such as 'the Queen of Diamonds', and so forth. Now, it was necessary for everybody to obtain a Title by any means possible, for those without one would eventually be disregarded by the world.

Every season change, there was The Ranking, an event where anybody could challenge another to a fight, refusing was not allowed. 

The winners would obtain the other's person's title, along with the powers that came with it. After two rankings occurred, those still without a title would perish.

Aside from that, there were also four Catalysts. 

Those chosen to protect the throne, and thwart humanity. They were destined to bring ruin to society, beings with powers beyond any regular person.

Kane Silvius, his older brother, became the [King of Aces] after battling the original King and winning.

Lucas frowned. If he recalled correctly... the original King was somebody he knew by name—the well-respected leader of his gang. Although it was called a gang, and he often participated in back-door deals and fights, it was also tied to a wealthy company.

A rich, careless man who fooled around as he pleased. Everybody feared him, and Lucas was slightly curious as to why. 

Regardless, he didn't have much of an opinion on the man.

As for the Catalysts, a dull throb echoed in his mind. The story he'd written was fragments in his mind, as if attempting to make him forget but being unable to do so.

He knew of one, but the rest remained unknown disasters.

Lucas sighed, and Nora paused her actions of fiddling with her car as she looked at him properly. If possible, the woman wanted to continue to form a friendship with this reliable man who remained calm in the face of adversary.

Luck was a type of strength, and they'd successfully experienced the first Story without injury, but she knew that wouldn't last. Cowards, like the one they had met by the name of Julian, or the 'brave', such as Lucas, would be equally met with challenges.

She shuddered to think of what was to come, along the split open streets, and the shaking buildings.

"Lucas?"

The man took a brief intake of air, gazing up at the Throne. "I'm going to find my brother."

Although Lucas was surprised by the turn of events, he also had little interest in the matters. If the world fell, then he would fall with it. It was inevitable, and he wouldn't waste time trying to fix it. 

However, for the sake of his older brother, he would keep this world alive.

His priority was to find Kane before it was too late. The man would become one of the most powerful Kings, wielding all four blades that each possessed. That was the requirement to take the Throne—only a complete King could rule.

Anxiety riddled his heart. 

He hadn't spoken to his brother in a decade, when he'd left the house and never returned at the young age of 14. A restless, mourning teenager that drowned away his emotions in pointless fights.

Piercings, tattoos, bleached hair.

He'd done all he could do to curse life, and it was meaningless. Nothing would bring back the dead.

There was an unsettling feeling in his chest, knowing that the protagonist of his story was very likely to be the very brother he abandoned, that he would have unspeakable regret. An itching, painful throb at the back of his chest, foretelling.

"Your brother?"

"I need to make sure he's safe."

It was the most emotion that Nora had heard from the other, seeping helplessly into his low tone. Biting regret, a bitter memory of the years lost. 

Fear.

Her eyes softened, recalling her younger sibling. "I am sure he's searching for you too."

Lucas hesitated. "I don't know if that's true."

"What—"

<Whoops~ I'm a little late! It's fine though, the story of [Cinderella] has been cleared! Congratulations (tch!) I'll distribute your rewards now, damn humans. Be grateful!>

The two shared a sharp look, before a ringing sounded in their heads. Lucas frowned, feeling the faint buzz of a voice echoing in the depths of his mind, irritating him. If the story was cleared, that meant enough people were kept alive to obtain the number of shoes.

Perhaps his collection and Nora's also contributed to that, considering that they hadn't died, and their slippers were still valid.

[Your rewards are being calculated...]

[Completion of the True Ending has been found! Rewards re-processing...]

[Reward granted.]

[Shenlong (legendary)

Description: A copy of a legendary dragon, designed to follow its owner around. The master of storms and bringer of rains, a mythical being from Chinese mythology. Powers have been significantly reduced due to it being a 'copy'.

Additional: It's said that everything carries a story. Does this 'copy' have a past of its own? Regardless, you stinky man, do you really deserve this reward? 

Of course not! Only beautiful people deserve such luxury! @$^$*$#!!!]

Lucas' expression distorted for a second, reading the additional comments. He felt a strong malicious energy in the lines, if that wasn't made clear by the bitter remarks. 

Anyway, wasn't he beautiful? 

Two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Actually, just to be a breathing human being was good enough.

One might call it arrogance, but in fact, his perception of beauty was limited to that, and he concluded that he deserved the reward.

Regardless, he'd done some research on mythology from several different countries before, and was well aware of the might of Shenlong. It was a reward worthy of its legendary tag.

[Title granted.]

[The title of 'Cinderella' has been bestowed on you! Skills are as followed:

Kind Seduction: ability to charm a person with over 10% interest with you for 20 seconds if you continue to compliment them within every 5 second interval.

The Worship of Characters in Cinderella: protection and safety from creatures related to the story Cinderella, as long as they hold no malicious intent to the character title you have been blessed with.]

Nora's eyes lit up before she jerked her head towards Lucas, excitedly. "I've gained the title of [Prince Charming]! It gives me a skill called, 'Royal Charm', which allows me to convince anybody of anything, 3 times a day. I also gained this ticket to a unique Story, but I'm not sure of the uses yet. How about you?"

He blinked, thinking that his luck actually really was pretty bad. "A seduction skill."

"...pardon?"

"I gained a skill that allows me to charm a person. I was also cursed out by my reward, but I've determined that I'm beautiful enough to use it." stated the man in a matter-of-fact manner, his words unfiltered and relaxed.

The woman felt a little speechless and laughed lightly, unsure of how to react.

"I see."

A ding sounded from Lucas' pocket, long forgotten. Phones didn't seem to work in the Story, so he'd put it to the side and hadn't thought of it. He dug it out, tapping open the screen that was surviving on a sliver of battery.

[cam0311: sir, sir! lulu are you there??]

He stared at the screen before typing out a reply. It would be good if this reader of his stayed alive as well, thought the man absentmindedly.

[Lu: Here.]

[cam0311: reporting!! thank goodness you're alive! i just experienced the weirdest thing ever, and i'm bleeding out my stomach. but i'm alive hahahahaha! more importantly, why is it that i can't remember the story at all?????]

[cam0311: i loyally and gracefully read it 137 times, i'm confident! the current weirdness kinda reminds me of it, but the issue is i can't remember any details!]

[Lu: I'm not sure of the issues behind that either. I can remember, but my memories are faint in some sections.]

You are reading story Of Everlasting End at novel35.com

He didn't comment on the insane, and very specific amount of times that she re-read the novel, silently marking praise for youths in his heart. 

He was fairly sure that she mentioned being in high school once, and had no clue how she managed to make time to read to such an extent.

The man was used to her enthusiasm even when he didn't reply frequently, only once a week typically when she would message to complain, rant or praise the story almost every day.

[cam0311: hm, hmmm i really don't know. anyway, keep me updated lulu! stay alive!! hopefully we can meet up at some point, although you live in america right? it will be a little hard to get there from england, but who knows! take care~]

[Lu: Stay safe.]

If things with his brother were settled, he considered finding a way to go over to England. Cam0311 was an ecentric teenager, and he had faith that she'd likely be able to conjure up strange and unique ways to survive, with or without his help.

Nora saw a rare softness filter through his eyes. "Is that somebody close to you?"

Lucas tucked the phone away. The girl was the only contact he had outside of work in the last decade, and in a sense, she was similar to a younger sibling to him. "Somebody important."

"Anyway, what will you do next? Where is your brother?"

"I don't know." The man paused, frowning slightly, before rummaging through his pockets and pulling out a slip of paper and a pen. He scribbled something onto it, and handed it to the other. "This is my address, it's nearby. I'm going to buy some groceries first, and then I'll head back and we can discuss further."

Nora accepted the paper, glancing over. "Groceries? Do you want me to come with you?"

He'd decided to stock up on some supplies now, unsure of how long everything would go on. If people were dying by the dozen, perhaps hundred, the government wouldn't be able to face this crisis. 

Supplies would eventually be scarce, rewarded from the Stories.

In about a week, the first ranking would take place. Those without a title wouldn't be eliminated, but a death match would begin, and foretell the beginning of tragedy.

"No, I like shopping alone."

"Very well, I will wait for you at your house then." She dug through a compartment in her car before pulling out two hand-held guns. "Please take this for now."

"...where did you get this?"

"For emergencies."

The man decided not to question any further, and nodded. "The key is under a pot that says 'Key' with an arrow pointing down. It should be easy to find."

"...under a pot that directs a person to the key? To your house?" She made a strange expression of disbelief, but the other nodded again simply.

If somebody dared to break into his house, what would they find? Scraps of paper, a mattress on the ground? 

No, they'd just become somebody he could beat up legally for breaking in.

The woman didn't dare ask further, and they parted ways.

There was a nearby supermarket that he frequented often, a regular remembered by the clerk for always buying endless packets of instant noodles and snacks every week, seeming to have a bottomless stomach. 

The truth was that he enjoyed stashing away food, and also donated snacks to a children's hospital whenever he had time.

Lucas' slimness wasn't from miraculous genes, or a speedy metabolism, but from poor eating and lifestyle habits, that also made him pale and washed-out. There was a careless charm to him, like a meandering ghost watching over the pointlessness of life.

Outside, there were a group of ruffians smoking. 

It wasn't an uncommon sight—the area he lived in wasn't the safest, but one would've assumed that they'd be more focused on their lives and the whole situation, than stirring up trouble.

When he got closer, he realized there was a young child curled up on the ground, shivering. Money everywhere, loose change that had likely been scraped together by those tiny hands that helplessly tried to protect it.

He narrowed his eyes, approaching in a leisure pace. One of the men snapped their heads up, threatening, snarling. "Huh? You need somethin', fella?"

Lucas lowered his gaze, before flicking them back up. 

His voice was a steady stream, a natural confidence tinge that made the listener feel compelled to obey. "I'm going to collect that kid. And whatever money you took from him."

"Ha! What money?"

The ghost of a smile aired on his lips. Avoiding the boy, whose head raised curiously, he slammed one of the man against the wall. 

Young delinquents, too busy playing bad that they didn't know where to draw the line.

He was a half a head taller, a matureness radiating his body that came with age. The delinquent was too surprised to speak, stupidly staring as Lucas found a small, worn out purse tucked away into a pocket. He slid his fingers down, careful not to physically touch the other before slipping the wallet out between his fingers.

He stepped back, tossing it in his hand. "You're right, what money? I must've been mistaken."

"You— give that back!"

Lucas jumped back softly, tilting his head before repeating, "What money? This isn't yours, is it?"

"We found it!"

"Found?" He glanced at the boy, noticing the strangely steady stare, painted over a fierce gaze. His lips pressed into a wronged frown, looking to be around 12 years of age. "Then, I 'found' this too. It's mine now."

"That's not how it works, damn it!"

"It's not? Then it's neither of ours."

He walked over, pulling the child up carefully, scanning for any injuries. Thankfully, everything was just a surface wound, and it seemed that the delinquents didn't completely cross the line.

"Open your palm."

The boy obeyed, spreading the hand wide before something soft dropped into it. Lucas ignored the silent look of admiration, and turned to the group of three. There was a faint red brushed over the earlier man's cheeks despite his anger, and Lucas paused.

Perhaps this was a good time to test his skill?

It just so happened that regardless of the ridiculousness of it, he was particularly good at flattery, and lying through his teeth. 

A true scammer.

"Looking at your age, you should be in your early 20's? A good-looking and intelligent adult, wasting his life away in these pointless crimes." As he spoke, a faint pink ring pulsed, circling his iris and making his gaze hard to look away from. "It's a shame."

The flushed delinquent's eyes glazed over. "Y-you think?"

Lucas glanced at the watch that clasped around the man's wrist—an old edition, likely a gift from one of his parents. It was worn-out but carefully maintained. He was likely filial to his family, which would make it odd for him to be acting out in this way.

Countless empty beer bottles rolled near his feet, a cigarette hardly smoked held between clumsy fingers. Hands free of bruises and cuts, ones that hadn't been in fights very often.

"Wouldn't your parents want more from you?"

"You, you don't know anything!" snapped the man in return, almost jerking him from the charm. Red tinged the corners of his eyes that seemed to carry lingerings of tears.

"I don't. But is wasting your life with things you aren't used to really worth it? Will it be worth it in five years when you realize it's all been pointless? When you're nothing, when you could've been something? Will you be proud, or will you regret?"

The charm had almost instantly dispersed from the harshness of his words, but the delinquent continued to stare at him.

Lucas felt as if he were seeing a memory of himself. "Is it worth doing something you'll regret?"

"...they died in the Story. Whatever that damn thing was." whispered the man, not yet adapted to the strangeness that was occurring. "My parents."

"More will die. People close to you, people who could've been comrades. And if you don't care, then live as you please. But if you want to honour them, don't waste the life that you have. Live in a way they couldn't."

"I..."

"Make your choice."

Lucas turned to the others that had whispered to each other, and fallen into silence. There was fear. 

Anxiety. 

Acknowledgment. 

"Recognize me?"

"W-we apologize, Mad Dog!" They quickly stammered out, shuffling back.

"....." He would never like that nickname. "Go."

He watched the three hurry off indifferently, before sighing. They were likely more bold since there were no police to come chasing them; the government trying to figure out the existence of Stories that had appeared across the country.

The words he spoke were ones be believed in.

He had no right to visit his parents' graves. Nor did he have the right to see his brother again.

Lucas didn't regret the past decade he spent in a lonely, aimless period. He had done terrible things, but he remained bound by morals and awareness. 

There was a line he didn't cross, so there was nothing he'd done that he couldn't admit to.

But if Kane couldn't be saved, he thought he might learn to regret.

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