studiobondurri Chapter 287
Chapter 287
Another swing, another exertion of muscle, another strain on his body. Temptation dangled in front of his face like a savory treat, instincts built into his own ability urging him to give in and use them. He took another step forward and swung again, grinding his teeth through the motion as the images played through his mind over and over. Rage. The man he had been when the flash had taken place would have surrendered to it without the help of the guide to give him something to focus on.
The guide was gone, though, and he was on his own.
Every step along his path had been one setback after another. Every move he’d made had been the wrong one. He’d been confronted with his own foolishness back in Melionë’s dream world. Staring into the eyes of a nightmare, facing the weaknesses in his own mind, confronting his childishness. He scoffed and swung again, sweat dripping down and stinging his eyes. Without his cheats active, he could only endure it and feel with every drop, every swing, just how imperfect he was as a human being.
It was reaffirming, in a way. If he needed to struggle so much to reach greater heights, what hope did humanity have? He had seen them as an eyesore his entire life, felt nothing for them, and saw no reason to even speak to them. He was aware of what a lack of empathy meant to society and how people would see him if they knew, so he kept to himself and played the role of a bookish boy, a nerd, and he put up with them. Even as it made my skin crawl, even as my stomach churned as I watched them live their pointless lives out. Was it brain chemistry? Something else? Does it matter?
He could see it now, so very clearly. There was a game at work in the world, and he had fallen precariously behind. Forces were at play shaping the lives of billions while they flitted around like ants. All of them running about like toddlers with forks in their hands. All of them were so eager to crawl over one another to save themselves, only to get pulled down in the madness. His nose wrinkled at how wretched they were. An irritating blight that needed to be stomped out so that something better could rise in its place.
I was wrong about why I wanted to do it, he thought. This is a mercy killing.
He swung one last time, and the floor trembled a little beneath his feet. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered the weapon to his side before holding out a hand. A ghoulish shade reminiscent of a certain monster that rose from a well on a television screen scampered over to drop a towel into his hand. He dabbed his face and let out a breath. “Thank you, Mel,” he grunted and tossed the towel back to the creature that drifted out of the room. He glanced towards the dark-haired girl sitting on the pile of crates to his left. “Is Riot back?”
She was a tiny thing, just a few days away from her birthday. Her mess of black hair and disheveled appearance from the hospital had been replaced with something more fitting for a girl her age. Her long black hair was straight, with bangs cut clean across. She was wearing a fitted t-shirt with the ASTA logo and a pair of long pants that were baggy at the calves, her bare feet poking out at the ends. She’d insisted there was a time and place for fancy clothes, and lounging at home was not it.
The dreary girl leveled him with a stare for a heartbeat before nodding. “Yes.”
He grinned. “I only stuck around long enough to make sure he was really getting the job done,” Otis said thoughtfully. “Looks like he’s finally coming around.”
“You aren’t worried about that hero he killed?” Melinoë asked.
He scoffed. “Hardly, that thing was a bit player at best. Not good enough for my glorious future,” he said with a sigh and brushed his hair out of his face. “Not like my Heralds.”
“And Ishtar’s message?”
He scowled at the ceiling. “She’ll get what’s coming to her,” he growled. “Let her play her games, get the whole world chasing her for all I care. All she’s doing is increasing the lump sum of renown I gain the next time I face her,” he grinned to himself. “Like basting a turkey.”
His Herald of Nightmares frowned. “I think her calling you out on international television did more for you than anything else,” she scoffed. He frowned, and she shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Once she’s done with your original picks, she’ll come after us. She knows about Riot and Felwinter, at the very least.”
He turned to look her in the eyes. “Which means either she thinks too little of them or prefers a known element over an unknown. There’s something else, though. She’s taking them out systematically and making a show of it. Like that call-out of First Wind, she wants me to know it's happening,” Otis mused. “She also needs to do it, otherwise, she’d stop. Those idiots are useless to me now. I have a new team.”
“A compulsion, you think?” Melinoë asked.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter as long as she continues on her warpath.”
“Your current Heralds don’t match up with the old ones, except for myself and Craftsman, since he was an original pick,” she said flatly. “You need to do something about the others.”
He scoffed. “You’re underestimating Felwinter,” he said. “As for Riot, I do agree it's time I helped him power up to meet my standards. Not how I handled Felwinter, though. There’s got to be a better way.”
“Why not just replace him with someone more useful?” she asked. “I’ve seen your mind, and I still don’t understand why you keep him around.”
Otis dismissed his sword and waved a hand to pull up his menu as a smile crept across his face. “That’s because I didn’t have a goal in mind for him at that time either,” he said. “No, I was grasping at straws, and his power seemed useful. Now I see him for what he will become.”
“And that is?”
“My prophet.”
The menu appeared with a flicker of text.
The Walkthrough is still disabled, not that I intend to make much use of it, he thought. It has done nothing but lead me astray since the beginning. I wonder if that bitch Pandora left some manner of trap in it, come to think of it. I’ll make that ghost pay in time.
His status screen announced that his Attack and Defense had gone up another tick. It was satisfying to see the little bar rise, but not more important than the other two notices. He selected Skills.
A flood of information burned into his brain and muscles, raw instinct and muscle memory becoming something so natural it felt like his own. He knew how to use his strength better, how to apply it, and how to control his body and motions. He clenched his fist. Something I earned. It feels strangely good, addictive even. I should pick up more skills. I wonder if there is a magic skill. Magic is a thing in games, right?
He moved on to his Renown to savor the best for last.