[TBATE] -More Than One Godspell-

Draven

"I'm sorry..."

"..."

What was that? 

Who was that?

Before I could untangle my own question, a forceful voice sliced through my reverie.

Ah, yes... 

I almost forgot why I was here and how I came to be trapped in this nightmare.

"Draven! You are under arrest by the order of the High Sovereign!"

I strained my eyes, trying to discern the faces of those surrounding me. But everything was blurred—just an indistinct smear of shapes and colors.

"Ah... so... so much... blood..." Pain had rendered me too exhausted to even scream.

I couldn't remember, couldn't process how far I'd gone, running away from them like prey, like a wounded animal with nowhere left to hide. Through it all, only one thought that remained clear in my head was my daughter. I want her to come back to me. I can't lose her. Not after everything. Not after her mother...

I can't lose her too...

Deep within me, I could feel the hollow ache caused by the shattered remnants of my mana core lying in its own ruin. I don't think anyone or anything could fix this big of a damage core.

Without my core, I definitely won't be able to use my runes.

But even if I were able to do so, would I stand a chance against all of them?

Of course not.

"You have lost too much blood! Stand down! Let us help you!" They lied.

Why draw this out? Why not end it now? Did they crave my surrender that badly? Or did I simply hold more value breathing than I did as a corpse? They probably would earn more if they managed to catch me alive rather than dead. Either way, I should be glad they didn't kill me right away.

"Or else we will force you to and we will not promise you will be alive."

"..."

What should I do now?

In the wake of this moment, my thoughts drifted—to him. 

The High Sovereign—the living god. Our proclaimed savior.

Was he witnessing me now? From whatever gilded perch he occupied? Could he hear the desperate prayers that bubbled weakly from my battered soul?

Why had fate—or perhaps his own capricious design—entangled my family to end like this? All because my wife and daughter carried a little trace of his blood?

...Why did he want this?...

...He is a god...

...I thought he was supposed to be all loving...

"..."

He's a fraud...

A fraud...

A fraud!

A fraud! A fraud! A fraud! A fraud! A FRAUD! A FRAUD!

"A F*CKING FRAUD!!!" The words tore from my throat, carrying what little strength remained in me now.

"I SAID STAND DOWN!!!" The command barely registered as the world around me closed in, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"F*CK!! YOU!!" I staggered back, entering into the towering arch behind me.

They hadn't expected that.

Their hesitation cracked. It was brief, but that was all I needed. And then—like a swarm of wrathful lights—spells erupted, aiming directly at me.

But before a single one could reach me, the portal had already swallowed me whole. 

And everything then went black.

***

"...Ah..."

My eyelids fluttered open, shifting from a hazy blur to sharp clarity as I took in my surroundings.

The Relictombs...

The place—where death had nearly claimed me more times than I cared to count. And yet, against all reason, it was now the only place for me to disappear.

But I will return.

I will take my daughter back.

As the first snowflakes began to fall, I forced myself to stand despite the wounds and started looking for somewhere to rest.

I soon found for myself a little cave on one of the mountains that would be my shelter for the time being. It didn't cost me much time, but it sure cost me loads of effort to get up here.

"..."

I collapsed against the cave wall and slid down to the ground. I deliberately made a strangled sound—not quite a cry, not quite a groan, but something in between, raw and desperate. It echoed faintly in the cavern's empty and hollow space. It soon returned to me like a mockery.

But... again.

I tried again, forcing another sound into the void, as if she were here... still alive to hear... to care...

"..."

I gave out a sigh and quit being pathetically delusional as I shut my eyes closed.

Time strangely passed, neither fast nor slow but simply flowed in a way that felt wrong. My wounds dried, scabbing over as strength trickled back to me. When the worst of the pain dulled, I set my hands to work—crafting tools, gathering what little this relictomb had to offer.

I noticed that there were moments—fleeting at first—where I felt... off. Dizzy and headaches, it was as if time in this place was messing with me.

And the worst part was... it didn't stop.

It grew worse.

Became worse over... time...

"..."

"cough! cough!"

I... woke up...?

"...What the—" A sudden, wrenching spasm seized my chest. "COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!!" The force of it bent me forward, wracked with hacking fits that left my throat aching. Out of habit, I clamped a hand over my mouth.

But when the fit subsided, I hesitated.

"...huh?!"

Slowly, I pulled my hand away only to see fresh blood glistening against my palm, stark and wet beneath the cold and dim light coming from outside my shelter.

Then—something else caught my eyes.

A pale blur in my sight.

Frowning, I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it back. A few strands slipped free, drifting down and landing on my lap.

Gray—just a dull, lifeless lock of gray.

"..." 

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Longer? I questioned myself as I felt both late and early, as though I had missed out on something crucial and trivial yet somehow arrived before it had even begun to happen.

"COUGH! COUGH! COUGH!!" Blood leaked out from my chest. "Agh..."

Oh, no.

No. That can't be right.

It hadn't been that long—had it? I just got here not... long ago... 

...Right?

"No, no, no, no, no. NO!" There's no way I'd been in this place this long! How much time has passed out there??

Elara...

"GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! F*CK! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! THIS CAN'T BE!!!" My sanity cracked all at once.

I lost control over my own self. Driven by some kind of madness, my hands moved on their own accord as my nails raked down my arms, carving gory lines on my skin and tearing my flesh open until blood welled out, spilling in thin rivulets, sinking down until it scraped against my bones.

"GAHHHHHHH—AHHHHH!!"

I couldn't stop screaming.

Couldn't stop.

Couldn't stop.

Couldn't—

"YARAAAAAAA—AHHHH—"

***

"Ahh!"

"Draven! You good, old man?" Gavin's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts.

"Ah, you're back. Yes. I'm fine." I exhaled slowly and forced myself upright. "Where is... everyone?" 

Gavin snorted, leaning against the rough stone wall and folding his arms together. "Oh, they knocked themselves out to sleep. No big deal."

"...How many die... this time?"

A pause. It wasn't hesitation, just a moment for Gavin to gather the words.

Then, finally, he sighed. "...Three men."

The air in my lungs turned cold.

"The first one—" he let out a dry chuckle, but there was no humor in it, "—got killed by his own damn reflection while fetching water to drink. The second ran into a f*cking bear that ate him alive before he could even scream for help. And the last one... put a knife to his own throat. Didn't say a word and just... did it."

"Three lives," he continued and muttered, shaking his head. "And we didn't find sh!t!!"

"I'm sorry..." 

Gavin scoffed. "Sorry for what?"

"If I was there, maybe I could have stopped the last man from... killing himself."

"We will never be able to get out of here. It must have been years out there now." He let out a bitter laugh. "We're so dead."

"Now don't say that!" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "I have to take my daughter back! I can't die here!!"

"..."

Gavin didn't say anything after.

"...Gavin?"

Nothing.

He was gone.

This again...

"..."

Gavin's words must have gotten to me more than I realized. Even though I didn't want this question to pop into my head, I couldn't stop it from happening.

How long has it really been?

"..."

Surprisingly, I didn't feel like I was losing my mind for asking myself that question.

"..."

I then started wondering how Elara was doing now. How many years had slipped away since I last held my little girl in my arms? How old was she now? Had she grown taller, stronger?

Had those highblood people fed her properly, clothed her well, given her enough care and all?

I wish—oh, how I wish her Vritra blood would never be manifest. Who knows what kind of tests or experiments that f*cking tyrant will run on her?

"..."

A faint crack split the silence—a brittle sound at first, then swelling into something annoyingly louder.

I didn't know where it came from. I couldn't tell if it was outside or within me.

Maybe I had gone insane again.

The slow, pulsing warmth spreading across my chest suggested as much. Blood—my blood—seeped from the wound, the same injury that had always been there. But this time, it was worse. Wider. Deeper.

I should have felt more pain. Should have been choking on the sheer, unbearable agony of it, but despite that, I was surprised to see how disturbingly calm I was.

Then, something gleamed.

A blade. Its dazzling amethyst edge slick with my blood, violently sticking out from the very center of my wound.

And that was when I realized.

That was when I remembered. When everything came rushing back.

My knees buckled, but before I could collapse. A hand caught me—firm yet careful. He lowered me gently, guiding me down as if afraid I might shatter further.

It was him. The man with blonde locks.

With such caution that felt almost reverent, he placed my head on his lap, cradling me as though I were something worth holding onto.

"Grey..."

"Yes."

A soft, breathless laugh escaped me. "Haha... I'm glad... that your name is easy to remember."

"..."

"So it turns out I was... dying this whole time..."

His grip tightened. "I'm sorry..."

"No, don't be." I shook my head. "I would do the same if I were you."

"..."

"Do you think I can survive this?" I asked, trying to be as optimistic as possible.

"..."

He didn't answer.

He didn't have to.

My breathing was getting weaker fast.

But I ignore it.

"I failed, Grey... I failed. I failed them." 

I can barely put my words together. "I made promises—to them, to myself—so many promises—but accomplish nothing! And now, I'm going to die a failure. A failure as a husband! A failure as a father!"

My fingers weakly curled into fists.

"I couldn't do anything! I let them—I let my wife and my unborn child be MURDERED! Even in the end I-I couldn't even save Elara as the last thing I could d-do—if only—if only—I weren't trapped here, aging and rotting in this forsaken place, perhaps I could have recovered sooner. Perhaps I could have found a way back and taken my daughter back."

My voice then came out fainter. "We could have lived somewhere secluded, somewhere safe and I would have watched over her. I would have ensured she married a man who would cherish her, protect her—love her... Oh... Elara..."

"..."

The last vestiges of strength drained away from my body. 

My eyelids became heavy.

"Oh... Yara..."

***

Caera Denoir

Space seemed to wrench us backward, throwing us out into the open. And the moment our surroundings settled, an eerie emptiness took hold.

Just moments ago, the place that was crowded with ascenders—now... nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Not a single trace remained. It wasn't merely that they had vanished—it was as if nobody had ever stepped foot in here before.

"Scythe Seris..." I turned to my mentor, "Do you know what's happening?"

"No." She said coldly.

"..."

"I do." Out of nowhere, Grey—no, Arthur—spoke, "but I won't bother explaining." Calm and measured, yet weighted with something unreadable.

He stepped forward. My eyes caught onto the object in his grasp—a shard of metal and gold, sleek with fresh blood that was dripping freely from its jagged edges. At its center gaped a hole cleaved clean through.

A broken relic. 

But that relic wasn't what had me speechlessly curious.

It was the little faint streaks of dried tears that marked under his eyes.