It didn't take a genius to figure out that a weird group's sponsor was an even bigger weirdo. What Zack hadn't imagined, or what he couldn't have imagined, was that the sponsor was more bizarre than the entire group put together. More so than Division A. More than any other Soul Hunter roaming about in their so-called superficial reality.
Each group of the soul hunter division was assigned a letter, ranging from A to Z, with Z being the lowest rank. Zack didn't understand why they allowed him to remember such an insult to their division. Perhaps it was related to their sponsor.
Every division had at least one sponsor, while most were sponsored by a real Soul Snatcher—an entity stronger than all the divisions combined. Division X's sponsor, however, was rumored to be stronger than all the sponsors put together.
After the recent—and by recent, they meant a century ago—loss of Division 'Y' and 'Z's sponsors, both groups had been merged into Division X. Lux said they couldn't so much as touch their sponsor, even if they sacrificed themselves trying, and he was adamant that Zack never forget this little titbit.
For people who wiped his memory on a whim, they sure asked a lot.
One of the reasons they were considered the lowest-ranked group was that their sponsor had a critical role elsewhere and didn't believe in hands-on teaching, which, apparently, was a common trait among high-ranking Soul Snatchers.
Division W's sponsor was stronger than Division V's sponsor, and so on—until Division B. Quite the opposite of how the Divisions' ranking worked. Division A's sponsor, ironically, was practically a newbie who had joined the Soul Snatchers' ranks a decade or so ago. And with immortality on their side, sponsors would rather throw recruits into a lion's den than preach about survival.
"Figure it out, or die trying," every sponsor ever said. "Death is but a concept I can overwrite into a chance."
"So becoming immortal is the first step to this power?" Zack asked, baffled.
"Yes," Lux replied, his voice grim. "Immortality isn't all that it's hyped up to be, kid." He sighed, looking off into the distance. "To gain, one has to sacrifice." He turned and looked straight into Zack's eyes—no, deeper—into his soul. "And what sacrifice do you think immortality demands?"
Zack stood dumbstruck. He couldn't begin to imagine the scale of balance such a deal would require.
"Everything," Lux answers for Zack. His voice cracked, hoarse, and broken. "Isn't that too much...? Isn't that—" He trailed off, lost in a place Zack couldn't reach.
"Why... why fight?" Zack asked, stammering—not wanting to, yet still drawn to the question—Drawn to Lux's pain.
Lux laughed, not a forced or controlled one, but a wholehearted one for once. "I remember asking that same stupid question to your parents," he said, wiping an involuntary tear escaping his eyes. "Oh, look! Guess I can still feel that emotion." He craddled the teardrop as if it were his child.
Lux didn't know which emotion it was precisely, but he was glad something still existed deep within him. "Someone has to... while no one wants to. So we took up the burden for the one person we loved the most, not once thinking this might help everyone else. Well... If it does? Let it. We don't care," he recalled.
A pain surged through Zack's chest as another memory shattered through its chains; his so-called parents' voices echoed in his mind: "I shall die a million times over, if that means you get to live once."
The words vibrated inside him, their tear-filled eyes flashed in his vision, and their faces overflowed with tears as baby Zack caught one in his tiny palm, giggling and brightening their faces in an instant.
"Didn't your parents want you to live?" Lux asked, voice rising with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
"How can I?" Zack's knees gave out, causing him to crash to the floor in a kneeling position. "After everything that's happened..." His vision blurred. Tears welled. He mimicked Lux, cradling the droplets in his palms, holding them close. "I shouldn't," he whispered, rejecting the offer Lux didn't yet make—to wipe his memory again.
Lux's chuckle drew his gaze back up. "You know, kid... being at the bottom, our division was stuck with serving the families of Soul Hunters, with all the menial tasks. I hated every second of it... even while taking care of you—the only son of the top Soul Hunter—NO! Soul Snatcher..."
The word snapped another memory into place, reminding Zack that they weren't merely Soul Hunters. They hunted broken souls—those who threatened to tamper with the top surface, the seventh layer of reality; A place where mortals lived in a constant state of illusion, crafted by their delirium.
Soul Snatchers, on the other hand, lived in the true reality—the Soul Realm. Their sponsors weren't just mentors; they were unthinkable beings, creatures forged from pure power, led into existence through sheer willpower—the strongest among them existing before time itself.
"After seeing you," Lux continued after a pause, "your resolve... I regret regretting those times."
He laughed again, louder, shocking everyone.
"When was the last time the geezer smiled?" Bazuka asked, slack-jawed.
"When you were this shocked," said Psycho, already chuckling.
Then the whole group joined in, the hall echoing with laughter—Psycho howling between fits, the sound both absurd and healing.
"What is so amusing?" A tiny whisper canceled out the echoing laughter. "Wasted another critical marble, I see." Only the voice remained within the hall, erasing every other concept of sound within its presence.
Zack blinked, and at the center stood three menacing figures: two mind-boggling beauties, and a dwarf—or a kid?! Zack couldn't tell.
The two women were a treat for the eyes, a final wish for any man before death. That doesn't mean they were any less threatening. Even if one denied their overwhelming presence, if they so commanded, everyone would gladly give their lives... no, wait! Zack tried to resist the influence, yet failed time and again. The simple battle of wills lasted a month, with the twins winning the fight within a second; It was as if time stood still for a single exchange of blows, and once a winner was decided—be it an hour, a day, or in this case, a month later—time moved forward with the result.
"Kid tried," chuckled the sisters, loosening their influence.
"Barely!" Solgrave scoffed, jumping and burying his face into Azrith's chest. "I could've lasted longer at that stage."
"You tried to erase everything in existence." Azrith reminded him with a frown. "Soul King had to knock some sense into you, before you calmed down in what... a decade?"
"Four," Virith said, giggling.
Zack's emotions swirled back into his control, yet he couldn't shake off the envy he felt towards the little twirp.
After tapping into Varnyx, one's emotions became a passive thing that could be accessed through choice alone; Strong emotions, such as hate, love, lust, and so on, were but inconvenient things one held onto to remind themselves of their humanity.
Zack saw the hunters turn off such emotions on a whim when things got real, or during an intense battle. In short, it was safe to say that anyone with access to such power did stuff purely by choice without any involvement or manipulation from emotions. This was all to say that this little twerp of a sponsor was a pervert, through and through!
He never missed an occasion to fondle the pretty women's godly chests, nor sat anywhere else but on their laps. Every chance he got, he would throw a mini tantrum, later burying his head into one of them— "An f'in kid!" Zack gritted his teeth, his frustration cracking them slightly.
"Oh... he is his son." Solgrave frowned, morphing into a seven-foot, muscular giant. "Does this tickle your fancy?" He scoffed, growing a long white beard and pulling a staff out of thin air. "Or are you more into this kind?"
"What the actual fuck!"
"Finally!" Solgrave chortled, returning to his original form. "The concept of a body is a construct made in one's consciousness. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Zack would've stayed gobsmacked at the display for eternity if the sisters hadn't flirted back, asking the twerp to maintain the previous form during their... well, you know!
Zack shudders. "Fk, fking, fksake... fk me!"—A dream no amount of power could turn into reality!
"I want answers," demanded Zack. "I've waited for over a month." He spots Pinky cringing in the corner. "What!?" He points. "How many months...?" He asks Pinky.
"A few." She smiles cheekily, showing the time between her index and thumb, expanding the space at a visible rate.
"Stop!" Zack says, clutching his head. "I've waited for longer than I can remember. Some answers would be highly appreciated." He regrettably bows to Solgrave.
"First." Solgrave takes a single step, covering the distance between them as space warped, now, hovering over Zack with a menacing look.
BOOM — The first punch struck!
Zack braced himself, heart hammering, expecting pain, impact, death. Instead, His shield pulsed, a radiant glow rippling outward, absorbing the full force of Solgrave's fist.
The air trembled—the ground beneath cracked. Yet Zack stood untouched.
Trembling, yes.
Drenched in sweat, yes.
But unmoved. Unharmed. And maybe a little wet.
Definitely a little wet.
———<>||<>——— End of Chapter Eight. ———<>||<>———