As the mark glowed, a purplish light spread through the room, growing brighter until it nearly filled the space. Then it stopped. Floating in the air before Vince was a dull gray revolver with six rounds of bullets, but these were not ordinary. Each one shimmered with a faint golden hue, surrounded by a thin, misty aura.
Strange, Vince thought as he studied them.
When he reached out and gripped the gun, his nerves pulsed with energy. The feeling was familiar, as if his hands remembered something his mind had forgotten. A rush of sharpness filled him, his thoughts quicker, his senses sharper. Vince lifted the revolver, aiming at a glass bottle on a nearby table. His stance, his breathing, his focus, everything moved with precision, like a man with decades of experience.
He chuckled under his breath. "Oh, Aden, what did you do with the rest of my life? How could you be so wise?"
But his laughter quickly faded. The reminder of Aden, of what he'd done, of what he'd abandoned, stirred Vince's rage again. It never truly left. So Aden gave up his goal for love, huh? Vince's thoughts tightened, his expression cold. Still, he couldn't ignore the strange power flowing through him. He loaded the six golden rounds, each one humming faintly as it slid into the revolver.
Looking around the ballroom at the lifeless bodies, Vince only felt a distant disgust. Estill. That bitch.
He holstered the gun and stepped out of the room. The hallways were lined with corpses, men and women fallen without a drop of blood spilled.
Keith… Vince thought, scanning the faces. He wasn't there.
He kept moving, reaching the grand hall. More bodies. Even the guards from outside were dead. Ahead were staircases leading to the nursery, the library, the private dining room, and the family bedrooms. Will anyone come for them? Will stronger Stackers show up?
Each step hurt, a deep, throbbing pain he'd grown used to. But the more he adapted, the more it burned, the pain was growing with him.
Reaching the upper floor, the stench of death hit him hard. The hallway stretched long and silent. To the left, rows of rooms to the right, a single white door and at the far end, two massive doors marked with strange patterns. Above them, one word Library.
Vince approached carefully. Please, let someone be alive, he thought, pushing the doors open. Mist lingered inside. The gas lamp still flickered faintly, casting a dull glow across the shelves.
No one was alive.
Bodies of men and women lay scattered, some young, some old. Cigarettes rested loosely between fingers, and a few women still clutched books in their stiff hands. Vince stepped through the silence, eyes scanning the room.
Then, from deeper within the fog, came a faint sound.
Someone was humming.
Click!
Instinct took over. Vince drew his revolver, his movements sharp and automatic. The humming grew louder with every step as he moved through the rows of shelves, his gun steady. Then he saw him.
Lying calmly on a bench was Keith. His golden hair was slicked back but still gleamed under the dim light, his tailcoat spotless, that same perfect blue. His eyes glowed faintly as he hummed, flipping through the pages of a book. The air around him felt still, almost careless, as if the corpses nearby didn't even exist.
Keith looked up, startled for a moment when he saw Vince aiming the gun at him. But instead of fear, he smiled, closing the book and standing with a flourish.
"Welcome! How did you survive? Well, never mind that, how are you? I'm Keith!" He extended a friendly hand, the same calm grin plastered across his face. "Something happened, don't mind the bodies!"
Vince stared at him, completely baffled. I already know this idiot. Why is he talking like this?
He cleared his throat, lowering the gun slightly. "Uh… Keith, what are you talking about? We already met."
Keith froze, his jaw dropping slightly before he suddenly brightened again. "Wait, really? Roe, how did you do it! I doubted the stars, but they were right! I'm sorry, Roe, I honestly thought you lost your memory, but you kept it intact! What a strong mind! I thought you were just weak!" He waved his hands dramatically as he spoke.
Memory? Weak? Vince's thoughts spiraled. My memory did go away, but im pretty sure for some reason a god brought it back. How does he know any of this?
His tone hardened. "Keith, tell me what the hell is going on. Where did you go, how did you survive, and why is everyone dead?" Vince's instincts told him not to push too far. He'd seen Keith's strength before.
Keith raised both hands, backing up slightly. "Whoa, whoa, calm down with all the questions! But I'll tell you this much, the thing behind all this, the reason everyone's dead…"
His smile faded, replaced with something grim.
"…is the work of a Devil."