"What… deal… ?"
The strained voice of a researcher asked instead of the Shepherd, but its thorny vines were yet to be called back.
Altair's expression slowly morphed into a mocking smile. Instead of the shepherd, he directly looked behind him at the beating heart.
"One that you can't afford to refuse."
There was a smirk on Altair's face that was borderline mocking. He didn't even address the crippled shepherd, but his true body instead — the beating heart, which was barely beating now.
The appearance of the young boy slowed down its beating, but the bleeding did anything but slow down; the gushing black blood got so intense that a small item slipped out from the split-apart section of the tree, a small, cracked yellow gemstone.
"Just… speak…"
"Aren't you in a hurry?" Altair let out a hollow chuckle, still not meeting the hollow eyes of the shepherd.
Instead, he pointed at the gemstone. "Maybe I gave you too much time; a day is definitely a stretch. You are lucky if you live two more hours."
The body of the shepherd jerked forward, violently pulling the vines before slackening them again.
"Stop…"
Even the voice of the researchers was barely audible now, but that only made Altair advance with even more aggression.
"The wolf has already ripped enough out of you. You can't even sustain yourself, much less the others in this room." He pointed back at the researchers. "They aren't even sustaining you anymore…"
"They are long dead, but you keep them alive out of spite… are you spiteful enough to go down with them?"
"Do you really want to die with the people that made you this way?"
Altair didn't let go even as the thorns penetrated deeper into his skin; he wasn't going to stop now, so he mercilessly pressed on.
"Die as their failure? A crippled Shepherd that won't even reach the second tier, much less any hope of becoming something more." He raised the droplet of Deon in front of him without calling on its power. "You are going to rot away in the same room you were made."
"Not born, made. Like a tool, and you are a tool that has long lost its purpose. Your Core, I can see the cracks spreading; your true body is already giving out."
"Stop… talking… just… stop… talking… !" The voice of the researchers rose again, screaming in a mix of anger and helplessness.
"So why maintain them? Why drag yourself down together with them?! I get spite, but why let it drag you down?!"
The Shepherd's chest heaved. The vines trembled, faltering as if his will couldn't match his rage.
"You can kill me here," Altair went on with a lower voice. "But what then? Kneel down and wait until your heart gives out? Do you really lack that much drive?"
The boy flinched, and for the first time, the vines around Altair slackened. The thorns pricking his skin withdrew, just slightly.
Altair's tone shifted. Before, it was filled with aggression; now, his words felt warm. "It doesn't have to be this way, you don't have to go down with those that took everything from you."
"Take the deal… don't give up on yourself just yet." His expression was so kind and showed so much kindness.
The body of the child trembled further, staying silent for a while.
"What… is… the… deal… ?"
Altair brought the Droplet of Deon closer, summing forth some of its heat, bringing it to pulse faintly, mimicking the beating of the heart behind the boy.
"Take this, let me fuse it into your core. You will survive — not as this broken thing, but as something with a purpose."
The Shepherd's lips parted, though no words came. Instead, the vines across the room retreated, no longer grasping Altair nor the researchers, their bodies slumped back lifelessly.
Altair extended his hand, the Droplet of Deon glimmering in faint red. "Everything will be alright."
The Shepherd staggered closer, pale feet dragging through the pool of blood at the base of the trunk. His small, broken body trembled with every step, empty sockets locked on the Droplet. When he reached Altair, one thin, trembling hand reached out and closed around his own.
At the moment of contact, Altair pulled them both into his ability.
Why is it still like this again? Previously, when he met the King of Hollows inside, this place was enveloped in a blinding light, the exact opposite of the dark hole his ability usually was.
In the middle of the light, the young boy stood with his own Core in hand while Altair grasped Deon's fading Droplet.
The young boy still couldn't talk on his own, but he didn't need to.
"The deal I am proposing isn't just based on my words; we can make a contract. If I were to fail, my own Core would shatter."
From nothing, a piece of paper appeared in Altair's hand.
"They made you into a broken thing… a crippled Shepherd."
Altair offered him a warm smile as he crouched down in front of him, looking the boy in his hollow eyes.
"Help me, and in return, I will help you become a Seraphim."
The hollow eyes of the boy widened in shock, standing still for a couple of moments before reaching for the piece of paper that Altair handed to him on his own.
"Would you like to add something more to that?"
The young Shepherd couldn't talk but nodded back, his essence forming words on the contract.
Taking back the contract from the Shepherd, Altair's brows gently rose while smiling softly.
"That's how you use spite," He added, "I agree."
Down on the modified contract, the ink changed to include the clause set up by the shepherd.
[The Wolf Class entity called Faded Grievances must be killed.]
"Let's get started then." With the deal now made between them, the young boy turned Shepherd handed him his Core.
To an Aberrant or an entity, their Core was the most important organ, akin to their heart; if it got destroyed, their deaths would be the same as if their hearts got destroyed.
In return, Altair brought the Droplet of the man once known as the notorious criminal of the Tamara organization, Firestarter, but now, the only thing that remained of his core was a simple Droplet.
A piece of their core, which had a remnant imprint of their powers and consciousness, called a Will.
Through his own Aberrant power — Covenant, Altair attempted to fuse these two.
Covenant wasn't a power that ever suited Altair; thus, he hardly ever used it, mostly utilizing his physical skills, but ever since his exile, he was forced to use it twice now… and even with him barely using it and not being fit to do so, he still knew this power like the back of his hand.
It was imprinted into his being.
Yet he could barely recognize it because of the King of Hollows.
I can still make this work.
He was confident in that, but what would happen after? He couldn't flee from someone opening and redirecting cracks on his own.
All he could do was play along for now.
Inside this strange ability that Altair couldn't just call the same Covenant he was born with, however, he could still feel the essence of the ability remain the same.
Grabbing the fading Droplet in one hand and the cracked Core in another, he brought the two closer to his chest, the radiant light enveloping him, turning a bit brighter in the process.
The young shepherd was looking at Altair before the Core in his hand cracked further, so did the Droplet of Deon, cracks spreading through the two gemstones in a spiderweb fashion.
The image of the boy slowly faded away from Covenant, but there was not a single lock of terror on the face of the young shepherd.
For a moment, Altair felt the boy's agony — his birth in a lab, the endless tests, the agony of being torn apart and remade. The vines, the bleeding, the Wolf pulling his body apart, piece by piece.
He also felt Deon's pain, heat so intense that it made him almost pass out from it. He felt his emotions before his death, the same emotions he felt from the young shepherd, loneliness like no other.
Soon, the two faded away.
Rest in peace…
As the two gemstones shattered apart, their broken fragments seeped in the light from the area of Covenant, the radiant light fusing the two into one.
When the blinding light faded, all that remained was a glimmering yellow gemstone in Altair's hand. A perfect core made from a dead criminal and a crippled Shepherd, now, it was a single core.
Both alive, yet neither is.
With the core in hand, Altair left Covenant, but as he blinked again, instead of the light fading, it was just as bright around him. But also terribly hot.
Around him, the room was engulfed in flames, one last flicker from Deon's droplet.
No matter where he looked, he couldn't see the new entity born from Deon and the Fallen Leaves.
Instead, he hurried and left the room as the flames rose around him, even the spores in the were burned away from the intense heat, combusting into a burst of fire behind Altair.
Altair staggered forward, coughing against the rising smoke. His suit was scorched and bloodied, but he was still standing. Clutching his chest, he stumbled toward the exit. The fire followed, chasing him through the doorway as the entire chamber collapsed into burning ruin.
He burst into the open corridor, gasping for air, the roar of flames echoing behind him.
"Hello," even through the cracking of the raging fire, the voice was soft and clear.
Altair froze at first as he wordlessly stared at the scorched floor where a small white raven stood perfectly still, its beady eyes blinked up at him in an amused manner.
Beside the white crow, a huge crack stood.
"Hello," Altair offered a greeting to the white raven, to which he immediately felt a connection.
The two of them had already made a deal, and that couldn't be broken until one side either broke or completed the agreement.
"What should I call you from now on?" Altair wouldn't feel comfortable with calling the new entity either of the names it had before.
"Moonless, let's just go with Moonless."
"Sure," Cale held out his hand, the white raven flying up at it and using it as its perch, "Let's go, Moonless."
With that, the two entered the crack, opening their eyes in the hall of the Hollow King once again…
The grand hall decorated with gold was supposed to stand in front of him, instead…
There was nothing but rubble.