CHAPTER SIX.

PAST | at eighteen

YOU HAVE NEVER MET A MAN QUITE AS RUTHLESS AS SORA. In your few months since you've somehow stumbled upon this game, you've met many different kinds of adventurers. There's the pitiable, D-Rank adventurers who try desperately to climb the ranks using mission points, and there's the A-list junkies who think they own the world just because they're powerful as fuck. But they're fairly decent-natured—they kill monsters—they don't kill humans.

But Sora Selasta kills both.

You believe that it ties to his own personality—with his own powers. He kills those he deems are hindrances to him; he uses his necromancy abilities to make powerful adventurers into his little shadow lackeys.

("Can you resurrect them?" You asked on one occasion, out of pure morbid curiosity. "Is it possible?"

Sora had a strange look on. "...No."

"You've tried?"

"Yes, [Name]."

He sounded impatient—which he never was with you. Sora must have noticed his cutting tone, for he immediately looped an arm around you and smiled. "Sorry. Bad day today."

So you dropped the subject.)

"This guy has a pretty good ability," you kick the body in front of you, watching how it rolls down, listless, "you can take him for the shadow army thing you have going on."

The two of you attend missions together regularly. It's more of a safety thing for you, for you're still a beginner. Well, not abilities aren't a beginner thing, but your skills are. You're still a bartender, but somehow you got dragged into the whole adventurer business by Sora, who said he needed backup. Wasn't original [Name] an adventurer? You can't recall.

(You know he didn't need backup. He's lying, but you just humour him. You know how lonely power can be.)

"This must be the fifth adventurer group who tried ambushing us," Sora says lightly, unbothered by the mountain of bloodied corpses before him. "Guess we're that good, huh?"

Don't toot your own horn, you think, this is why people don't like us. But Sora deserves a right to be arrogant, right? The both of you aren't even twenty yet, and still he reigns supreme.

"Sure." You glance at the bodies. You feel the familiar unease simmering beneath you, the recoil, the disgust when you look at dead people. Actual dead people. But it helps to detach yourself from the settings of the world—you tell yourself, over and over again, that this people don't have emotions, that they aren't real. But of course, they have families to return to, and...

..."I wanna go back," you whisper.

"You want to go back? We still have the boss we need to kill."

"Yes, well," you clear your throat, "after the boss."

"[Name]," Sora touches your cheek gently. "Are you alright?"

You feel a little dizzy. "Yeah. 'Am fine. Never been better, as a matter of fact."

You get this symptoms once in a while. Symptoms for what, you don't know—but it's awfully tiring, isn't it? Sticking labels into things. But there's anxiety: there's panic—there's horror whenever you hear the screams of the dead reaching out to your ears, entangling their frightful, cold hands with yours. Reaching out to your still-beating heart. By all means, you're a murderer. But then you aren't, because it doesn't count. Because you're trapped in a fucking place you can't get out of. It reminds you of the whole dead internet theory—how the place is just littered with NPCs and Bots and—

—Hey, aren't you a NPC too?

Ugh.

"Rest here," Sora suddenly says.

"What?"

"You don't..." Sora sighs. "You should have told me earlier if you didn't feel comfortable killing."

"Right," you say, hesitant, "what are you talking about?"

"I meant killing humans, [Name], not killing monsters. You don't like it, right? After all, it's murder. No matter how much I can justify it, saying they were trying to kill us, it's still murder," Sora says softly, before he ruffles your hair—which is funny, considering how you're a little taller than him—"don't be so harsh on yourself. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to do."

"...Sorry," you say after a pregnant pause.

"It's really fine," Sora says gently, "it's to be expected, of course. I felt the same way, too, when I took my first human life. After all, when you...murder—you can't help but think of all the other situations, can you?"

Sora's human, you think, he's human.

"Situations?"

"For example..." Sora smiles, but it seems bitter. "You start thinking to yourself: oh, this woman I'm killing probably has a family. This man I'm murdering has someone who's waiting for them. And this child has so many years left to live. You go down a rabbit hole—but then you remember this person tried to kill me. And then drawing the first blood becomes a lot easier. You must remember, [Name], that all this people..."

"I understand," you reply rather stiffly, "I managed to kill them, didn't I?"

"It takes a while to taking a human life. When you hurt people, you must remember that they've hurt you too. That's how..." Sora trails off. "I survived. All this people—they are starved for power. They want it. And the thing is, starving people will eat anything—they will devour anything and everything, as their desperation supersedes their self control. And it is this very desperation that kills them."

Their desperation supersedes their self control.

"I thought you were fine with it. I thought you weren't...bothered with it." Your voice comes off a little raspy. "You—"

"Well, I simply got used to it," Sora smiles again. He plants an odd kiss to your forehead, his gaze never leaving yours. "So rest, [Name]. Rest well and I'll kill the boss for you. Close your eyes. Take a small nap or something. Terrain's clear. We killed everyone here."

You're eighteen, currently. At least, the original [Name] is. So is Sora. He's eighteen, and he claims he's gotten used to killing. So it really makes you wonder: when did he start killing? Probably when his ability first manifested, but how old was he when that happened?

You think of the bitterness that laced his expression, dark and cold. You think of the way he massacres people; always with that childish, light smile on his face. Was there ever a time where there was despair on his face as he stared at the vivid crimson snaked all over the floor? Did he ever weep, lamenting the weight of a human life? Who is Sora, really? He claims he's a God, and he certainly has godly powers...

You think of the kiss that lingered on your cheek like a fading imprint.

He's human, you think, Sora Selasta is still human, after all.

PRESENT

YOU CURL YOUR FISTS, your eyes locked onto Axel's. The two of you are behind the guild building (this seems oddly reminiscent of all those shows were the punks go to the back of the school to beat up some nerd) and Axel's aggressive, all vicious like.

You don't know who he is, but you do know he was absent at the S-Class meeting. So he's a weakling.

"You're like a dog," you grin. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"And you're as rude as ever," Axel spits at you, but you move away. "Just as brutal and lowlife."

Ride as ever, you think with amusement. I don't know who the fuck you are; and you don't even know I'm not [Name].

"Can't believe we used to date," you murmur under your breath. "Can't believe you're still alive, actually. I assumed Sora would have killed you already. He oddly protective."

"So that's your new boyfriend?"

"Kinda pathetic, right? You can't even get over me. It's been years. Almost a decade. And now you want a fight?"

"You're gonna fight me?" Axel says in disbelief. "You aren't violent. You hate violence, actually."

When you hurt people, you must remember that they've hurt you too.

Axel is a real piece of shit. He's hurt you with his words, so...justified?

"You don't know me."

"I do. I've known you for a ridiculously long time. Since we were teens, really." Axel says. "Of course, I lost touch with you after that incident—"

What incident?

It's too late. Axel's moved on, and now he's just spewing out profanities. "You are such a fucking asshole. I haven't seen you in such a long time, and this is how you—"

"—you greeted me with a profanity," you remind him.

"You wouldn't get offended!"

"Oh yeah? Now I am," you feel strange, almost, like you're tiptoeing, barely balancing on a beam. You feel this way every time you activate your powers.There's a very specific way to open up your powers—one that Sora doesn't like. You bite onto your hand—hard—and watch as the blood trickles down.

You can control it. You watch with a smile on your face, as the blood morphs and twists into crimson, jagged, shards.

And then you plunge it towards Axel.

His powers are strong; but nowhere as good as yours. A wave of water comes towards you, drenching you from head to toe. It's more of a distraction than anything—and you ignore the wet ground as you linger for him, grabbing him by the collar before you slam him on the ground. His breathing is ragged, so is yours, but you wipe your bloodied hands on his shirt, the blood shards behind you, dangerously close to his eyeball. Carmine drips down your bleeding palm.

"You could never win me," you say softly, "you will never win me."

Axel's voice is thin and angry. "Fuck you. Just because you got gifted a couple of—"

"No, fuck you," you interrupt. The shards get closer to his eye, and Axel is forced to close his eyes. Your grip loosens before you let go of him, your face twisting into one of distaste and disgust. "I don't remember who you are. But it's over. We're never getting back together."

"Hah," Axel laughs from the ground, his teeth bloody. You must have slammed him to the ground too hard. "You said that the last time. We always got into fights, y'know? But you knew me. I knew you. We understood each other...and now what? You're replacing me with Sora? That fucking bastard?"

You glance at him. "Can't be called replacement if you never existed to me."

"Once an asshole, always an asshole," Axel murmurs. "A leopard can't change its spots. You're still you even if you try so hard to change for the worse. Even if you think it's all cool and fun and good to go around killing people, to go to missions with that Sora who's known for being a psychopath—you won't ever change who you are. Even the way you speak is the fucking same. Grow up, [Name]. Stop running from your past. It won't work."

Running from your past? You think, I've never even had a past.

"You're wasting your breath."

"You were a waste of time."

"Fine, then! You want to play this game?" You snap, "you're a waste of space, a waste of time, and a waste of resources. A waste of everything."

"You can't change." Axel says, his words long and hard. He makes it sound like a threat. "You cannot change, [Name]. You will always be a scaredy cat."

You've heard enough of his nonsense. You smile, walking back to him. His eyes narrow, and you give him one brilliant grin, before you smash his head into the concrete.

You walk away, but still your hand trembles.

Your gaze wavers and your heart thuds against your chest, before you slump against the wall. Axel's right, in some ways. A leopard can't change its spots, and it seems like you still seem to be merged with this character. With the original [Name].

You just want...

You close your eyes. Sora; you think; would know what to do.

...to be yourself.

A/N; sure hope this was fine! :) remember to add this book to your library for updates!

let me know how it was!