Liam felt particularly tired. It was always the case when he returned home, without really being able to identify why. Was it regret or grief? He preferred not to really delve into the question. As soon as he began to take a deep interest in the torments of his mind, he could very easily get lost and find no way out, plunging headlong into a spiral of disappointment that left him no longer able to escape. Generally speaking, he hated feeling sorry for himself, even though he too often found himself wasting time deep in thought.

At least he wouldn't be alone tonight. Lately, he managed to feel a little less sad, to push this feeling of permanent dejection a little further in his mind. It was probably due to the presence of others around him. Maybe he felt less alone. Less alone than when he had formed a squad alone with Aiko, for lack of numbers. The priests had first considered having them join the Sigma Squadron but Liam had refused the offer, still hoping that David would eventually return and, indeed, after a year, they had ended up finding him lost in the desert.

But, the time they had spent alone with just Aiko and him had been much less pleasant. They were arguing even more often than usual with Aiko and not just with their usual bickering. Things were difficult. They had just turned sixteen and had to hunt monsters without any supervision and without experience in the field. It was a task that could not be refused, it was only retribution for all that they had already been offered.

Of course, they were still being trained by Sissy, but that was just theory and no substitute for practice. He himself had never really had what it took to lead. He could not easily establish links with the rest of his team, set up strategies, he lacked the charisma necessary to command respect and was simply incapable of establishing a relationship of authority. He had always been better at following instructions, being faithful, and listening to what was said to him. He didn't have the capacity to do the rest. He had always been told what to do, how to be, how to act, what to try to become. He had never had the slightest question to ask himself about his goal, his future, what awaited him, everything had been handed to him and he had followed the path that was pointed out to him. A certain lack of will perhaps or of character in him which had given him a great docility instead. Very often he felt quite empty in life, devoid of anything he could have wanted. He had nothing he could have wanted to obtain or conquer, he already had everything he could have wanted, a family, a home, a job to do, a quest to pursue. He didn't know what else he might have been looking for. But, without anyone to guide him, he remained lost, ineffectual and numb, like a blind man deprived of all landmarks, unable to find his way except by groping. That was what this year alone with Aiko had, a groping in the dark, not knowing if the light was at the end.

Everything seemed to be better since David had returned. He had missed him during his years of absence. He had felt like he had lost him too and had feared that he would never come back. But now he was here again and he wouldn't leave anymore, he wouldn't leave him ever again. He didn't want to be left again, he didn't know how to act when he was left alone. He needed someone, someone to guide him. What could a puppet do without a master?

David was like a big brother to him. His eldest and something of a role model for him or at least someone he thought he could trust, follow without question, the equivalent of an authority figure to lean on. But before, David was more fearful. Liam would have liked to be able to blindly trust him and always believe in him, but the David before had already disappointed him several times, without him really daring to admit it, like a vague bitter taste that he had never really got over, a cantankerous smell of a rotten thing that shouldn't have been. David shouldn't have failed in any way, he should have played his part, been up to it but he hadn't known, he hadn't succeeded. He had to be a hero, his hero and it is well known that a hero cannot have any faults or flaws. He could not afford to lower himself to the level of ordinary mortals, he could not have imperfections that would have made him ordinary, fallible.This new David he had found was more like the person he wanted him to be. A being that he could easily idealize, who met the expectations he had of him. Whatever had happened on his journey had changed him for the better. The rest... The rest, he did not need to know.

Since he got home, things had started to improve. He had taken their lead and their squadron had gradually grown. Everything had finally cleared up in this ocean of darkness that had been his daily life and the weight of the responsibilities he had had to carry had been lightened. He had been less alone. He was no longer on his own, tasked with defending himself or making his own decisions. He could simply let himself be carried by the current, without asking any more questions, without fearing anything. He only had to do what was asked of him, the rest was no longer his concern. He was not fit to take care of it, it was better to let the others, more competent, take care of it in his place. He didn't have what it takes, his time with Aiko as the only members of their squad had proven that to him. Better not to try again.

Everything proved it to him. Today, the brigades welcomed them with a party, today, they were congratulated and extolled. Because today, they were finally a real squadron.

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder pulled him from his gloomy thoughts. He turned around and saw Jonas just behind. The latter gave him a small smile while trying to attract his attention, imbued with a certain shyness and the fear of disturbing him.

Liam blinked several times to collect himself. He should not show his less good sides to the rest of the team. What would it look like? It would surely be ridiculous. Others didn't need to see him dwell on events that had already ended, especially when he had failed so miserably to overcome them. The people around him would certainly not have the patience to put up with the whims of a sulky young adult unable to carry out the few duties entrusted to him. He had to pull himself together if he didn't want to incur their disdain and prove that he was actually worth something. 

"Tonight's party will start soon, maybe you should get ready if you want to participate." Jonas offered in a quiet tone.

"Yes, of course, thanks for reminding me."

He nodded, trying to cut the conversation short as quickly as possible. It wasn't because he didn't like Jonas, on the contrary. He didn't feel up to having a discussion with him but didn't really want to show it. He preferred to avoid discussion in order to conform to the role assigned to him. Jonas probably didn't care what tormented him. Everyone, in his place, would have done the same. They didn't ask him to be constantly disturbed and full of doubts, they just wanted him to do his duty, smile and be silent. After all, even though he was a member of a squad, he was still a simple hunter whose life was destined to end prematurely. They would find a replacement for him among the new generations.

He gazed for a moment at his interlocutor, still lost in thought. He didn't know Jonas so well. It had been a year since he had joined the New Genesis squadron but Liam was still a little embarrassed with him. He wasn't like Aiko or David and couldn't get used to new people so easily. Each new individual represented for him a new level in the hierarchy that he did not know how to deal with, how to behave with, he did not want to betray a lack of competence. It was difficult for him to immediately trust them. He had a hard time understanding how Aiko managed to get along so well with people she barely knew. As soon as she spoke to someone, it felt like they had grown up together. She knew how to easily put people at ease, thanks to her frank nature and her relaxed ways. If she didn't enjoy anyone's company, she made it easy to see. Liam preferred to be silent forever. Experience had taught him that he was not good at confronting difficulties directly. It was better to leave to those who knew how to take the initiative the leisure to tackle the problems head-on, he himself was not capable of doing so and could only avoid them or try in vain to attenuate them. For him there remained only the task of bringing his help to the side, as a very wise pawn who knows how to stand and obey the slightest command given.

Thus, therefore, all those around him were doomed to remain forever strangers, separated from him by an almost physical wall, with no possibility of ever truly getting closer. However, that didn't matter. He had to follow his role and everything would be fine.

Fatigue returned. It was like a constant hammering in his head. He felt like little black dots were dancing in front of his eyes. He only wanted one thing: to lie down and sleep for the rest of the week. He didn't want to come out again. Spending the evening with people, having to chat, pretending nothing had happened, that exhausted him even more. He already had a headache. It seemed to him that he could no longer think clearly. For a whole evening, having to play a role, showing oneself worthy of the entrusted task, not making mistakes and above all not revealing one's flaws. Even brigades through the veil of drunkenness were bound to notice how insecure he was. He had to try to take another approach and be as self-effacing as possible.

However, as a member of the New Genesis squadron, he was obliged to come and be present all evening. The party was more or less given in their honor. As if the brigades needed such a pretext to carry out orgies and excesses. Once again, the alcohol was going to flow freely, the laughter was going to be loud as ever. Everyone would move constantly in all directions, in a flood of bodies and flesh, laugh loud without any interruption, an incessant hubbub under cascades of blinding lights. It would be a suffocating and huddled feeling, like he was a caged beast, forced to contain himself and wear a mask. He was a hunter, not a party star or a circus monkey. His universe was summed up in the immensity of the plains, the steep mountains, the silent and infinite landscapes, still untouched by man. Secret places where this oppression was the only savage. It was his home, with the heavens as his roof and the grass as his couch. But the prospect of the party still lurked in his mind. It loomed like a storm on the horizon.

He took it upon himself and began to prepare. He took off his still dirty clothes from the road and went to wash briefly. He didn't have enough energy to take a full bath. He quickly put on the first outfit he found in his closet. He knew that, anyway, all the clothes stored in this building for them were very luxurious and suited for party. An unleashing of luxury and opulent fabrics just for them, when they were but sacrificed beasts on the sanctuary's altar of survival. Were all these diamonds, these splendours and these riches to divert them by their brilliance from their approaching death? They had to see the truth in the face. None of them would live to be old. No hunter lived to be old, even those who retired slowly withered away, and this was especially true for squad members. They disappeared one by one, in candles that were blown out little by little, carried away by the wind of the fight which roared without end. Each time he returned to the sanctuary might well be the last time he set foot on these islands before he returned there on his final journey, covered in a white shroud.

Always this fatigue which pursued him. He wished he could say something, but to whom? Who to confide in? He would look silly and stupid to everyone. Someone embarrassing. Who would care? He might as well shut up and act as if nothing had happened, it was better to keep this surge of thoughts to himself, even if it meant rehashing the same ideas over and over again. He would manage and find a solution, he just had to attend this party, find the strength to wear this mask a little longer, to hide all the truths buried in him to prevent them from overflowing. outdoors. No one would want him if he were permanently lost in the meanders of an abyssal despair. Yes, it was absolutely necessary to be silent. Shut up and smile.

With difficulty, he managed to find the motivation to descend the steps of the squad building in order to find himself in the courtyard that connected all the dormitories. The excitement was already at its height. The whole sanctuary seemed to have come together. Large tables covered with food had been served. The meal was therefore going to be buffet style. Things weren't working out. All over the place, you could find various stands manned by the brigades which distributed sweets, which offered games of skill or luck or even strength or drink competitions with great animation, as usual. The smells, the colors, were lively, pulsating with an energetic power in luminous clouds almost everywhere, while the scents assaulted the nostril with their heady aroma which mingled with all the others to create an intoxicating perfume. Voices and sounds no longer reached him except in cacophony, a voracious whirlwind that wanted to carry its mass everywhere, a dissonant melody that kept making a thousand false notes and quacks that were almost comical and hideous. More commotion. Liam felt like his ears were ringing. The sound only reached him muffled and confused, a shambles in his mind. He tried to discreetly massage his temples in order to calm himself down. It was a terrible migraine brewing, like the shadow of night hovering over his mind, threatening to darken it. He had the distinct feeling that a volley of bells or hunting horns twitching and flapping furiously in every direction were screaming in his head, determined to make a din of a thousand broken and wandering souls resound there. A dull rumble, like the ground when the whole earth quivers and groans before an earthquake.

What was happening to him? He was even more nervous than usual. He had become a volcano about to explode. He tried in vain to contain himself, to curb this incandescent lava which threatened to spring up in all directions in coarse bubbling. He couldn't decently throw a tantrum in front of everyone. What would people think? They would take him for a madman. It was not normal to be like this. He was not normal. Why was he so tired? Why couldn't he contain himself as he should? Why couldn't he rejoice? They had all returned safe and sound from their mission. A party was thrown for them by people who liked them, so why was he having this reaction? Why could he only think of going back to hiding under his quilt and never coming out again?

He had to put on a happy face. He had to smile. It was what everyone expected of him. He couldn't be dark and gloomy on such a day. He was a member of the New Genesis Squadron, one of the Order's most important hunters. He couldn't afford childish behavior. He was to be the eyes and the face of the order at the same time. Ever vigilant eyes that never close and an ever friendly face that welcomes everyone with the same enthusiasm. The hierarchy, he had to follow the hierarchy. He had been assigned to this role, he had to play it. He represented the dream gently cherished by all the young orphans of the sanctuary who wished bitterly to wake up one morning discovering magical powers and join the squads in their Homeric struggles. He couldn't misbehave, he couldn't let them know that it was all a lie, that magic power or not, when you died on the battlefield, it was all alone and like a miserable pile of dirt, that the jewels and the rich decorations of their rooms did nothing when a curse pierced their thorax, that being able to perform miracles did not preserve them from this scythe which fell indiscriminately on everyone. Let them drop all ambition and just follow orders, just like him, so maybe they'd survive a little longer.

But, already, he felt oppressed, strangled by this crowd which did not want to let go of him, which tightened its hold around him, to strangle him, in a circle which closed around him and crushed on him more heavily than a lid or a jumble of chains. He felt as if he had been invaded by a parasite he couldn't get rid of. The air had grown heavy around him, forming a leaden blanket. He shivered slightly. Everything seemed lower and cluttered to him, as if he was moving through sticky, semi-solid air, preventing him from truly moving.

The people around no longer had faces, just a big, blank, expressionless black circle with two shiny white balls for eyes staring at him. The white lights multiplied, they all turned towards him, illuminating him with their glow. He felt watched from all sides. Why was everyone staring at him? What had he done? He could feel them all judging him. They saw him, so little master of himself, and began to make comments, to murmur reproaches, to mock. Whistles slid through the air, mumbling and mumbling. He was surrounded by a horde of snakes. They must have found him mad. Completely crazy. He lost his mind, that's what they all said. He saw their lips moving, viscous and repulsive things, trickles of saliva stretching between their teeth as the words came out of their mouths, made moist by their mouths full of miasma.

He rubbed his hands together, feeling his breathing quicken. He was trying to take as few breaths as possible, so you couldn't hear panting. He was already starting to run out of air, he felt like his head was going to explode any moment now. The scenery was blurry, except for the white eyes that followed him.

He had to leave immediately. Find a quiet place to breathe, to think about what was happening to him.

Everything had turned gray, colorless except for the white dots that chased him wherever he went.