"Rule… in my stead."
Before darkness pulled Aurel under, his throne seamlessly and mechanically leaned back, transforming into a capsule he thought he would never use. The dais beneath him opened up and swallowed his broken body.
He didn't know how long the healing process would take. Hopefully, it would take a few weeks to a month. Two months at the maximum. And when he woke up, those scums would regret ever building that vile machine.
.
.
.
"...the enemy forces are smarter than we anticipated…"
"...rig… change… try…"
'Wh-who is that…?'
Aurel couldn't make out the voices clearly. He attempted to open his eyes, but it felt as though his eyelids weighed hundreds of tonnes. Giving up, he resigned to listening, trying to infer the identity of the speakers.
But that was more challenging than he had thought. His senses still felt foggy, his consciousness slipping in and out of darkness. Worse, he only heard bits and pieces of whatever it was that the person was saying.
'How did they even get in here?'
This was another issue that arose. His healing capsule was not just hidden beneath his throne room. Where he was was an entirely different space, a hidden chamber known only to his most trusted retainers.
The voices didn't sound like Sebastian or any of his trusted retainers.
"...Terris City…"
"...He was right…"
"..."
The broken conversation continued. Distant. Fragmented. The more he tried to focus on the voices, the more his consciousness slipped into the darkness. He must have partially woken up.
.
.
.
...BOOM…
'An explosion?'
That was impossible. His castle was not so easily breached. It was next to impossible. Not with the protective force field around it. So then, where did that explosion come from?
"...automatons…"
"...too much!"
'Who?'
The broken conversations came again, and this time, they sounded really distant. Screams. Cries. Almost like they were in the midst of a battle. Aurel didn't need to ponder much to understand that his enemies were attacking his lands.
'Urg… still too tired.'
His consciousness slipped back into the darkness as the fragmented conversations and screams died out. He did not know how long He'd been under, but his kingdom needed me. He needed…
.
.
.
"...we have to…"
"...serious?"
'Hm?'
Once again, the fragmented voices echoed in his head, ears. Aurel wasn't entirely sure. Everything felt surreal, as if he were submerged in water. He could not make out what the voices were saying.
.
.
.
"...no, please!!!"
"...ommy!!"
'No!'
A jolt went through Aurel's body as he woke to this heart-wrenching cry. Every fibre of his being ached to move. He needed to move. He needed to do something! But as much as he struggled, he could do nothing. He was slipping back into the embrace of darkness.
.
.
.
"...what… offering…"
"...better…"
"...riches..."
'W-what now?'
Awakening to the fragmented voices, Aurel struggled to open his eyes but failed. He felt no different from the other times he partially woke up. Everything felt the same. He felt trapped.
He had tried to stay awake for as long as possible, to at least make sense of the voices. It was easier to tell the voices that cried out in suffering. His people were dying.
'I told them to survive. W-what the hell are they doing?'
.
.
.
"... what… treason!"
"...only way!"
'Treason?'
Aurel contemplated as he woke up for the umpteenth time. This time, however, he recognised one of the voices. Were they discussing plans to eliminate him? They must be courting death!
Reaching my healing chambers would be a challenge. So Aurel wasn't really worried. Moreover, his healing capsule wasn't just any capsule. Hmph, he would like to see them try.
'When I wake up…'
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.
.
"...out of hand…"
"...move from…"
"...Sebastian…. Go?"
'What is happening this time?'
The little he could decipher from the fragmented pieces was his caretaker discussing 'move from'. He wasn't sure what they meant, but things must have been getting out of hand.
'H-how much longer…'
Time was a blur. Aurel could not tell how long he had been under. He only knew a few things from the fragmented voices he had picked up. And as powerful as he was, this was something he didn't realise he could do.
'When I wake up.'
.
.
.
"...for the people…"
'Hm?'
"...mercy… least… do…"
"...obsolete…"
For the first time since he went under, Aurel was able to open his eyes, but barely. Everything was a blurry, convoluted mess. As his eyelids fluttered to process the sensory inputs, he spotted a silhouette standing beside his healing capsule.
'Who?!'
Aurel's first instinct was to retaliate. His body, however, did not respond. He was paralysed. He was helpless. Fortunately for him, Aurel quickly realised his capsule was not so easily destroyed. Helpless, he watched as the silhouette mumbled nonsense about giving him rest.
He knew what this was. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Someone wanted him dead. Where were his caretakers? Where was Sebastian? The silhouette finally brought their hypocritical nonsense to a close and lifted their gleaming weapon.
But Aurel couldn't stay conscious for long. His consciousness was slipping. Before his eyes closed completely, he saw the silhouette plunge their weapon towards his capsule… towards his chest.
A sharp rebound sound erupted from his capsule, but the darkness had already pulled him under. Aurel did not need to see. The rebound force would send the assassin flying.
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.
.
"... for long…"
"...suggest?"
"We leave…"
'Sebastian…'
Aurel recognised the voice of his trusted subordinate. But what were they talking about? The last thing he remembered was the assassin striking his capsule. How had the assassin even got in here? What was the state of his kingdom?
There were many things he needed to know.
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.
.
"...any more…"
"...leave."
'Leave?'
When Aurel partially woke again, he heard Sebastian's voice. And this time, Sebastian sounded close. Probably here in the hidden chamber with him. But what was that about leaving?
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.
.
"...not normal…"
"...need… something."
"...still stands… longer…"
'Ho-how much time has passed?'
Aurel came back to consciousness once more, slightly disoriented and confused. But at this point, he might as well be used to it. That weapon really did a number on him.
'I can't stay under for too long… The world…'
.
.
.
"...much left…"
"...been several years."
'What?'
