Cairns of Hate

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With what has happened tonight outside the Neutral Grounds and what he has witnessed, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming dread not out of fear that he will be suspected of the murder of the father and his children (which he is completely innocent of), but he is afraid himself. He is afraid of losing himself to his anger and to submit to his primal instinct of killing. Hell, mayhaps he is not afraid of himself, but of the demons that linger about within him. He has grown more paranoid tonight from his mission. It is best for him to calm himself, and it has been a long time since he’s had a nice long bath, not that he isn’t taking care of his hygiene. A more relaxing bath with aromatic candles should do well to quell this anxiety.

He threw a bath bomb and watched as it dissolved into nothingness. What was once clear water was now riddled with pink suds and soap, whatever is in bath bombs nowadays. The candles are lit and placed in choice locations, and all that’s left is to get naked and soak in. It felt nice to have a calming bath after a tiring fight. Thoughts of malice and dread pass away as Michael breaths in the fragrance coming from the scented candles. Minutes later, but not too much, he was in a completely calm state and, as he closes his eyes, he falls unconscious and sleeps.

A sudden horrid stench invades Michaels nose. Merely taking a whiff of it was enough for him to wake up, and he finds himself floating in a sea of blood. The somber yellow sky was filled with dark clouds that blocked out most of the light. Around him, several bodies float around which were all too familiar - some of them were the heretics of the Arch Vorbrunt Order while some of them were his most recent victims. He struggles to keep himself afloat amidst this grotesque scenery. He feels something touching his leg, something metallic, and it instantly grabs hold of his leg and drags him under. He tries to break free from its grip and his efforts proved futile when more sets of hands of varying textures and forms begin to drag him further down below. He was struggling, and was drowning.

And then he wakes up.

He’s been submerged for who knows how long. Even in respite, dread would always find a way to torment his mind. He’s decided he’s relaxed long enough and got out of the bathtub. After a quick rinse and a change of clothes, Michael was ready to head to bed when his phone was ringing. It was Giselle, and obviously, she would want to hear what had transpired in his mission. He was hesitant, but knows he can trust Giselle. She’s been a part of his life since his time as a soldier. Or rather, since he lost his memories. He picks up the phone and turns it on loudspeaker, sparing him the energy of holding his phone beside his ear. “Giselle.”

“Hi Michael! How did it go? Was it successful?” She asked the tired soldier. Michael didn’t want to tell her about his ordeal as a bloodthirsty berserker, so he thought it best to leave that part out. “Obviously. Were you calling me so I can regale you of my exploits? Because no. I am tired.” “No, you dummy. I wanted to update you about the jobs you were gonna take and I’m afraid the 2nd job is on hold. You’ll have to do the 3rd job for now, you know, the one involving a terrorist.” She says as if she was Michael’s manager of some sorts. In a way, she is. Without her help, he wouldn’t be able to make a living and keep himself employed. “Oh, I see. I was itching to test out my magic’s infiltration skills. That’s unfortunate. Any other updates?” It was obvious Michael was getting more tired the longer he’s calling her. He let out a few yawns here and there while she was talking. “No, I don’t, though I’ll send you updates tomorrow. I’ve taken much of your time, so I’m gonna hang up. Have a good night, Michael!” The call ends.

As sudden as he closed his eyes, Michael was suddenly overcome with a wave of sickness that he felt the urge to throw up. Foul magics were afoot and Michael didn’t notice. He vomited all over the toilet and felt terribly sick, it’s as if a witch has put a curse or hex on him. In truth, this wave of sickness was caused by the weakening of the sigil, and the demons inside him are threatening to burst out. It took a good long while for the excessive vomiting to stop, and it looked like he just vomited his entire dinner. And not just that - he was also vomiting blood. He flushed the toilet as soon as the feeling of regurgitating ceased and went to rinse his mouth off of the awful taste of vomit and blood. He felt even more tired than ever and quickly went to his bedroom to sleep.

The moon sets on the horizon and the sun rises. A new day has come. Michael does his usual routine with the help of his helper bots. After bathing, eating breakfast, and equipping himself of his gear and weapons, he sets out and leaves for the lodge outside the Neutral Grounds to rendezvous with Giselle.

It has only been a couple of minutes after he left the Neutral Grounds to rendezvous with Giselle. He inspects his surroundings and has felt something off about the environment. It looked a little sullen, as if some colors had faded away from a picture. How he perceived his surroundings was no detriment to him and it did not affect his capability of using his car. A few minutes pass and he finally arrives at the lodge to see Giselle putting her baggage outside. He leaves his car to greet her, and his suspicions have somewhat confirmed themselves. “Good morning Michael! What do you think? Do my highlights look good?” Michael looked puzzled and tried to notice anything different. Alas, the desaturation of his surroundings have made two completely different colors seem like one. “I don’t see any difference.” Giselle pouts, “What do you mean you don’t see any difference? It took me awhile to dye them!”

“Giselle. I’m struggling to see colors.” It suddenly hit on her that Michael may or may not be suffering from color blindness.

“Oh. Ok. Whatever. I’m halfway through my preparations so why don’t we get inside and get you briefed of your mission?” She says. Michael follows suit. He was also slightly unprepared for the mission as he has yet to perform a maintenance check on his rifle and pistol. He needed the tools back at the lodge to perform them, and for why he hasn’t brought any tools for maintenance with him back in the Neutral Grounds eludes him. Inside, the duo went on their way to prepare for the mission - Giselle packing her equipment that she needed for maintenance and stuff, and Michael doing maintenance on his weapons.

“From what information I’ve gathered, there was allegedly a terrorist who was placing bombs here and there and dealt lots of damage to various cities. That is, he would be a pretty good terrorist to elude us for so long had they now messed up their schemes most of the time. Regardless of whether he is a professional or amateur, we cannot deny that some of the bombs that were set off gave off a powerful explosion. We cannot let that happen.”

Michael sighs, thinking about how absurd it is to hunt down a criminal who’d fumbled through their schemes. “Shouldn’t this be a job for the Rune Knights?”

“I’m glad you asked. Until recently, the bombs have become somewhat more potent. That, and they were able to stop messing up their own plans. They won't just spare squads of Rune Knights and lead them to their immediate doom. I do believe it is worth checking out the change of personality or whatever. Something’s… off.” She pauses for a bit, pondering about something, and snaps herself back into reality. “So, any questions?” She says as she finishes packing her equipment down to a manageable size. “Yes, just one. How the fuck are we supposed to find our target?” He says as he was wiping and cleaning his weapons. “For all we know, they could be in another continent.”

“Oh, my sweet summer child. If only there was someone out there capable of getting every bit of information necessary for the mission beforehand. And by someone, I mean me. I was fortunate enough to acquire a page of a book that details the target’s next location.” Giselle said, procuring a worn out paper, smirking just as she waved the piece of paper. It did look like it came from a book. “Hargeon. We’re heading out to Hargeon.”

Cue in a montage of Giselle and Michael putting their stuff up in his car and Michael driving them towards Hargeon, occasionally stopping by villages to get some information, and also stopping by points of interest irrelevant to the mission (a.k.a Giselle taking a pic of herself on beautiful beaches and the likes you occasionally see through the LacBook.)

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Several stops later, but not too many, Giselle and Michael finally arrived at Hargeon just as the sun was about to set. Michael parked his car in a parking lot near the hotel they were going to stay in. For a one day mission, Giselle was kind enough to book two hotel rooms for at least three days, mostly for some R&R for herself after working hard. The two got their keys and went to their rooms to unpack, and both of them met up in the hotel’s restaurant for Giselle to tell him of the location of the target. “According to the note I got, our target should still be preparing the bomb. We have a lot of time, because it was set to go off when the clock strikes twelve.” She says as she sips her boba milk tea. “I don’t plan on making them finish their preparations. Where is our target located?” He asks.

“The bell tower. It’s literally placed inside the bell. How they can manage to do that is beyond me.” She responds. Michael gets up and leaves to pursue his target.

The sun sets and the sky darkens as night falls. He bided his time and walked towards the bell tower, observing his surroundings for anyone suspicious. Fortunately for him, nothing seems to be interfering in his pursuit of his target. At that point, he thought his target would only be given to him on a silver platter. 'This is too easy.' He thought, but he shrugged it off in the off chance that there will be an ambush.

He reaches the bell tower and looks around for any lookout. However, judging by his HeXcry, the only ones who are inside the bell tower are him, and those around his vicinity are mere civilians. He’s prepared to take on the enemy if there are enemies who are able to conceal themselves under his radar, but the only ones who can sneak past his radar are those who know full well how his magic worked. Before reaching the bell tower, he concealed his presence through, making him invisible. This works to catch the perpetrator unaware. As he reached the top, he saw a man wearing a cloak working on the bomb inside the bell. “I have been expecting you…” Michael was taken aback. How was he able to see through his invisibility? “Who… are you?”

The man turned around, and there he saw a familiar figure. Aside from the white cloak, the man wore a typical civilian’s clothes. He has definitely met this man before, and with that smug grin of his, his scruffy features, and maniacal demeanor, it was all clear who this man was. He was a heretic of the fallen Arch Vorbrundt order.

Seeing his face has reminded him of the past when the massacre happened. His mind was flooded with memories and bits and pieces of it are slowly coming back to him. He distinctly remembered the man from before who he fought during the attack, and it was him who defeated Michael. Everything was a blur and he remembered passing out during the attack, and woke up to find cloaked figures surrounding him. He recognized him as one of the cloaked figures, while he doesn’t know what the others look like. He was sure of it.

Fear creeps into his mind.

“Aww… don’t you recognize me?” The man says with a smug grin on his face, knowing that his mere presence is enough to fill Michael with dread. It was as if he orchestrated this to lure him for reasons known only to him. At this point, Michael is vulnerable and is at the palm of his hands.

Michael steps back and more memories flood in. He recalls observing the survivors digging graves and burying torn limbs and bodies near the ruins of the fallen order. Cairns were built in memory of the fallen, and all he could do was watch without any recollection of the events that transpired. “That’s not how you greet an old friend, Michael.” the man says as he proceeds to approach him slowly. He steps away as this happens until he finds himself trapped in the corner. “G-Get away from me!” He says as he conjures his pistol and aimed it at the man, trembling. “You think I’m afraid to die? This is exactly why I brought you here!”

The man uses the same magic as Michael, and he used this magic to move himself and come face to face with him. “My death will serve as a catalyst to hasten the reincarnation of my god. So go on. Hate me with all your heart.” He says as he pulls Michael’s pistol towards his head. “Shoot me.”

Dread turns to hatred as Michael feels overwhelming hatred against him for all that he’s done. He wanted to pull the trigger, but suddenly, his mind ached and he dropped his gun. The man steps away from him as he knows what is going on. “His reincarnation into this world would have been complete if it weren’t for that woman and her cronies!”  He felt intense pain, and he lost himself as this overwhelming rage has evoked Halcyon into manifesting itself to deliver retribution against the one who did him injustice years before. Wings of steel protrude from his back and his skin grows feathers. The transformation complete, Halcyon, who manifested himself in place of Michael, exudes an aura of fear around him and screams, though the man himself remains with a grin on his face, as if he was expecting this to happen. Rather than fear, the man felt immense joy in knowing that his sacrifice will bring his lord closer to reincarnation. “No matter. We are patient. I am patient. I will bide my time.” He says, his voice changed as if an entity possessed him. His eyes glowed a nasty green, and with a smile, he says. “For I, Loki, will free you from your mortal coil.”

Halcyon lunges at and eviscerates the man, his claws and arms painted blood red. He screams in fury, his voice powerful enough to fissure the structure. The tower was about to fall, and he fled the scene. He fled far enough and hid, and soon Michael was back to normal.

Later, the tired Michael arrived at the hotel and passed by the hotel restaurant. Giselle saw him and rushed over to hear about his mission. “Hey! Michael, how did it go?” She asked.

“Fine.” He responds as he enters his room, closing the door just as Giselle was about to say another word. She took the hint, and has decided it is best to just leave him alone. She knows something must have happened to him to be this detached from everything. She reaches out to her pockets and brings out some sort of device, poring over the information displayed in it. “Oh. Oh no.” She muttered to herself before walking back to the restaurant.