A few hours ago.
Right after the Black Guild's dome fell.
Aven had been called into the Guild master's office by his trusted assistant, Ian, for a quick debriefing.
But all Aven could think of was… the citizens outside. He could still hear the panicked strained voices even from the large office on the last floor, decorated with different articulate artifacts crafted by the Mana stones the Guild master had obtained during his training session.
But why was he called in here when he was meant to be out there guiding the Tankers on how to repair the dome and keep the monsters away from infiltrating the territory?
Especially those pesky annoying White pieces that won't follow the rules implemented to keep both worlds apart.
But all his answers would be given by the man who stood right above him.
Ian.
The hubristic Rook-class that the Guild Master cherished a lot because of his deep 'insightful' knowledge. Ian stood tall, wearing a fitted long sleeved shirt without a single wrinkle in sight. The Black vest was pressed tight against his chest, a thin chain hanging from his trouser pocket, connected up to a single button. His blonde hair was slicked back, green eyes sternly staring at Aven.
Aven cleared his throat as he composed himself. "You called me, Ian? Why?"
Ian's voice was cold. "Summoned. I summoned you," he stretched out his right hand. "Give me your sword."
"M-my sword?!" Aven scoffed out loud. Was that why Ian called him here?
That's outrageous.
Ian nodded like it wasn't rocket science.
Aven pinched his nose in distaste as he sighed. "I can't. My sword is a part of me. I can't just give it out. It's made out of my Mana," he frowned, turning his back at Ian as he was about to exit the office, his left hand pressed on the door frame.
"In case you haven't heard or… ignored, the dome got disabled. And attackers are swarming through. I have to help them. You've always used me for petty quests like this. I'll clear it up and we'll then talk."
As he took a step outside, a meaty fist struck him square in the jaw. His head snapped sideways, skidding a few feet back into the office.
Aven rubbed his reddish chin, clicking his tongue before he took a look at the attacker.
It was one of Ian's men.
His face stung with tears as he shot a glare at Ian. "What the heck are you doing right now? Just because the guild master isn't here doesn't mean you should—"
Ian cut him off by slapping his face… again. The expressionless man stepped closer. "Did I ask? Have I by any chance ordered you leave? Such an insolent child." His voice turned more demanding. "Give me your sword," he said again.
Aven bit the inner walls of his cheeks. His hands clenched into a fist as he sucked in air. "I-i can't. Ian look, there are people—real humans outside right now that I have to help," a screeching scream echoed outside that made Aven wince.
He glanced over the glassed wide window and his eyes widened in horror. It was chaotic outside.
The White piece invasion seemed to be a little to worry about. All the Rooks and Knights placed to maintain order are all ranks below E.
Monsters were pouring in and no one had the enough strength to curb it.
And he… who could, stood right here talking to Ian…
It was to distract him, or rather, to disarm him so that he wouldn't—!
This… this was done on purpose.
Immediately, two hefty men grabbed his shoulders, pinning him to the ground and destabilized him from moving with their impeccable weight.
Aven grunted, gnashing his teeth as he shot Ian a dirty look.
"Why are you doing this?!"
Ian averted his gaze to the transparent glassed window, smiling. "You see, we need to trigger the second stage of the game that paused many years ago. The guild needs to find the body of Kai. Even if we lose in this game," Ian's eyes turned almost dreamy, "with that body in our possession, we must have the upper hand—"
"You're sacrificing your citizens all for a myth! I-ian! Let me go now! I can't just sit down and watch you kill people!" Aven's sword materialized from the thin air.
Instantly, it flashed purple, startling the men in the office. He twisted his torso sideways, as he slammed his head against the first man's jaw and jabbed the other restraining man on the knee with his sword's pommel.
Ian gnashed his teeth. Veins stretched to his forehead, seething. "Can't you see?! Stop making things more complicated! It is all for the greater good!"
No it's not.
Thud!
A whole bloody arm rolled over the tiled floor to Ian's feet, smearing its bright red blood all over the place.
Aven's body turned cold. He stared down at his decapitated arm on the floor inches away from him. Still comprehending the impact of his right arm separating from him.
He turned his head slowly, bloodshot eyes glaring at Ian's composed face.
Aven's other arm flew to cover up the blood gushing out his open wound that had splattered over the walls. His knees buckled, tripping over as both his knees hit the ground. "You—" his voice more hoarse. "Do you have to be this extreme?! This is illegal!"
Ian's skin along his wrist darkened and split open, metal rising through flesh. His fingers became a flat, hard triangle, a blade with bone for a spine. Blood glistening and dripping onto the floor.
Ian wiped his blade-hand on his vest as if he'd spilled tea. "I am only taking precautions," he glanced over at Aven, "it will take a lot of Mana to regrow a full arm… don't you think? Stay put. I will cut your other arm if you refuse."
A lump formed in Aven's throat. His lips quivered, body trembling not only from the sudden coldness seeping into his gaped wound.
People are dying… if I don't save them... T-the children…
His chest tightened, a burning sensation crept to his neck. Why are they doing this? There's a whole family out there…
I…
"All just for something that doesn't exist?" Aven groaned, he staggered up, twitching as he tried to materialize another Mana sword. "You think cutting off my right arm would stop me?"
Just then, two boots pushed into his ribs. He coughed, blood in his mouth. The pain came in a crawling, hot tide that made him white at the lips.
Ian sliced off Aven's other arm. The man screamed, completely falling defenseless into the ground.
"Unless you want your legs gone too, stay put."
Aven bit his lips hard.
"Hold him," Ian ordered. The men hauled him to his feet—what felt like half his body dragged—and shoved him toward the dark hatch behind the desk.
The steps down the concrete were covered in dark blood. Each thump of his chest and slide of his body down those stairs left streaks of red. He tasted iron in his mouth and a small chokey laugh bubbled up that surprised him. "You'll pay for this," he rasped. "You will pay for this!"
Ian's voice followed him down. "Maybe," his voice raised higher. "However, you need to work harder than I do. You lack expertise. You trust too much. You don't think with your head. Always relying on raw force. Such a hero you are, stepbrother. Maybe pray to your constellation. And cut that damn long hair. You look… untidy."
Ian turned to a knight. "Guard the door. After a few minutes, let him out. And contain Hanita so she doesn't run again. We need to study her. And process how to transfer—"
His voice now barely audible to Aven as the guard slammed the door at his face, engulfing him into the pure darkness.
He said nothing for a while. His thoughts scrambled up with a lot of what ifs.
What if he had disobeyed and never went up to meet him.
What if he had just ran out of the office…
He could still hear the growling of monsters and different tones of screams echoing his name to save them.
He could picture the amount of bodies currently laid emptied because of his incompetence.
His limbs were slowly regenerating, without the help of any healers or a Mana potion handed to him, it would be difficult to regrow a whole arm. Especially since he doesn't have a skill for that.
Aven let out a hurtful loud cry. He gritted his teeth, his eyes stung, burning from the tears. His thoughts deep in regret.
However, his System's ding went off. A purple screen illuminating his face.
[The Constellation 'The Teller of Fallen Endings' feels sorry for you.]
[The Constellation 'Goddess of Destruction' wishes to help you.]
[Your scene has been edited.]
Ugh, this is the second time they'd do this.
Suddenly, a blast echoed from the darkness and Aven could see the light swallowing the darkness that surrounded him.
He lazily looked up, turning to see the open tunnel. An escape out of the prison they threw him in.
His eyes dulled as he crawled his way out the prison. The numbness filled his insides.
How long had he been crawling?
His legs can't weigh him. Did his legs give out? Had Ian poisoned his legs too? That bastard had always done that if he disobeyed any of his orders.
Aven spotted a broken down building that coincidentally looked like a small cave. A rusty wide roof sat on the broken pile of stones.
He crawled in and rested his back against the hard stone.
One of his hands just fully regenerated, he flexed his muscles but something bitter clung to his tongue. His chest heaved, breathing hard.
"How many people died in the dome? Show me," he whispered. His System's window popped up, displaying a set of numbers.
[Estimated deaths: 300.]
[Do you wish to know the actual amount of deaths encountered?]
His face widened in horror as his lips trembled. "I could… I could have saved them," his voice broke.
If I hadn't gone, this many people wouldn't have died.
A piercing pain shot up to his heart. He clenched his chest, his eyes blurry until droplet of tears fell to the ground.
"I could have SAVED them!!!"
If only you could act more as a Queen. If only you trained more.
If only… you were truly the chosen hero.
No one wants a hero like you, Aven. You're pathetic.
He suddenly punched a broken wall. It collapsed under seconds as he roared, hiccuping, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
A ruckus jolted him up when he heard many footsteps rushing towards his hideout. Had his outburst alerted some survivors?
His newly regenerated arm flew to wipe off his tears, swallowing the weird lump in his throat that won't disappear. But he wasn't fast enough.
The 'intruders' had removed the rusty roof that sheltered him.
But what Aven found surprising was to see a pair of familiar black eyes stare back at him with… pity? Shock?
Or amused by the fact a grown man like him was bawling his eyes out.
Elian stared at him a little longer. His eyes darted to Aven's missing arm, then back to his tear-stained and snot- stained face. He never knew a beautiful man could look this… vulnerable and sad.
Aven jerked his face away from him, pouting as he finally wiped his tears. "D-don't look at me l-like I'm weak. My arm wou… would grow back s-soon so just—"
But Elian… dropped to his knees, and hugged him. His softly toned arms wrapped over Aven's shoulder.
Aven's hand twitched, surprised by the sudden show of kindness coming from a man that always wanted to rip him into pieces if he could.
"It's okay," Elian patted his back, his voice soft. "You can cry it out all you want. Just take a deep breath and clean that snot when you're done."