AN: Chapters are uploaded on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Chapter word count is 3000-4000. Enjoy the read.
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|DxD|- Chapter 1- Illusion Shattered
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"...out of time…stray devil…"
"...the plan…outside…"
A child slowly regained consciousness. The warmth of his mother's lap was replaced by a cold wooden chair. He faintly heard words that didn't make sense.
His eyes slowly opened. The light stung, making him squint. He tried to raise his hand to block it, but he quickly found that he was bound. Breaths became quick. His pupils dilated like ink spreading over a canvas. He wanted to scream, but his mouth was blocked by a thick gag.
His head thrashed around. His heart pounded in his chest. He was trapped in a small room with wooden beams criss-crossing in the ceiling. A single old light bulb hung loosely, emanating a dull orange glow.
He was bound to the old chair. Each struggle drove splinters through his shirt. Opposite him, two old men halted their hushed arguing. They were dressed in white robes like those of priests. Their white beards were bushy and hung low to their chests. The one with the ponytail turned and saw him awake. Those blue eyes pierced him with emotions he couldn't understand. He didn't know who these people were…and his breath caught when the elderly man walked to him.
"MMNNGH!!!"
The boy screamed into the gag in fright. Fresh tears spilled down his face like a deluge. The coarse hemp ropes grated into his wrists and ankles. Each step the man took resulted in the boy's vigorous struggles. His muffled screams turned into shrieks of fear. His body stiffened as each muscle contracted with the violent flood of adrenaline.
"Please calm down, Igor. You're not in danger. No one will hurt you."
The close proximity made Igor freeze. The old man was so close he could count every wrinkle on his eyelids. Everything was so sudden he forgot to breathe.
The other old man walked towards him. His steps were brisk and his blue eyes held silent disapproval.
"Step aside, Tallus."
He pushed aside his companion and held Igor's head. His hands were rough like dried mud. Igor wanted to look away, but Marcei's grip held him fast. His eyes were blue like the ocean's abyss—menacing, piercing, cold as the tip of a blade.
"Look at me. Stop crying. Breathe when I breathe."
Marcei's commands were sharp and concise. His voice was deep with authority. Igor subconsciously focused on him and stopped struggling. His breaths were hitched, like he was shivering and gasping for air.
"Boy. Breathe when I breathe. Close your mouth and breathe through your nose."
Marcei's hold on Igor's head was absolute. Against that grip, Igor's struggles were meaningless. Igor gasped a few moments more, but did end up following Marcei's breathing pattern.
"That's good. In…"
Marcei made a show of breathing through the nose so the boy could copy him.
"...and out."
Marcei continued these repetitions until Igor had calmed down enough to listen. He maintained his grip and close contact. His next words needed to sink into the boy's head, and he would ensure they did.
"Listen carefully. Five years from now, you will fight a wild beast. Get strong and defeat it so you can see your parents again."
"?!"
"Marcei!!!"
Tallus rebuked harshly. He was horrified at Marcei's callous words. He stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away from Igor.
"What are you doing?!?!"
They were so close their noses almost touched. A cold blue aura surfaced around Tallus. His eyes glowed with azure light. His hold on Marcei's shoulder grew so strong the bones creaked. Marcei stood unfazed. His eyes held pragmatic cruelty in them.
"This was the most optimal point to provide him with a briefing."
Marcei's tone was clinical and devoid of emotion…and it sickened Tallus. His mana burned to life in a bright blue flame.
"But like this?! He's a child, Marcei!!!"
"A child who will soon join us in God's embrace if we don't do what needs to be done."
Marcei looked at Tallus with cold-hearted determination. He too did not wish for this, but circumstances forced his hardened stance. His stern tone made Tallus freeze and lower his head in silent acceptance.
"But…I…"
Tallus found no words to refute. The aura around him withered into embers. Indeed, for old fogeys like them, they truly did not have much time to live. The process had already begun. In moments, they would cease to exist and it was vital they shared as much information with Igor.
"Sigh…"
Tallus turned to face Igor. The boy's eyes were trembling in a mixture of fright and confusion. It gripped him to see the child be swallowed by harrowing thoughts. It was only right for him to be confused and fearful. How could he possibly internalise this information so readily?
"Don't interfere, Tallus."
Marcei brushed him off. He could tell what his brother was thinking. But what was there to think? Their home and clan were destroyed. Igor was the last living scion in this accursed world of theirs. If he died, how would their spirits rest?
Marcei crouched down to Igor's level. Piling a child with the last echo of their people was a burden far too much for him to bear, never mind comprehend. But his goal was never to make Igor understand. It was to make him commit his words to memory. The next five years would make the boy understand…as cruel as it was.
His eyes closed momentarily. The burden on his shoulders was heavy. The time chamber was eroding what was left of his existence. His spirit would not hold for much longer. Hesitation was the enemy of decisiveness, but his weathered fist clenched in silent resolve.
"Boy."
He began with firmness. Igor needed to survive. That was all that mattered.
"The beast is strong, strong enough to punch through walls. You can never beat it with strength. You will need speed and technique. You will find a storeroom. Ignore the swords and axes. Take the spear. It is the long stick with a sharp blade on the front. Practice. Practice how to thrust and run. When you meet the beast, do not be frightened and do not hesitate. It is evil and will eat you alive."
Igor shivered. Good. Fear meant he was listening and he would need to. Listening would keep him alive.
"Aim for the eye. Aim for the throat. Aim for the joints. Do NOT attempt to strike anywhere else. If you fail on the first strike, run. Use the trees in the forest to hide. If it attacks, never block directly. You will not win a contest of strength. Your arms, body, and legs are very important. If the beast attacks, those three will decide if you live or die. There is a book that will teach you how to train them. Do so to the best of your ability. Remember. Your goal is to survive, not slay the beast. If the opportunity is there, take it swiftly. If it is not, run decisively."
His steely gaze penetrated deep into Igor. The boy had fallen into a tentative calm. His eyes still reeked of loss and distrust. But that was fine. He didn't need the boy to like him.
"Once we leave and you are left alone, do not cry. Do not mourn. Do not question. Do not cower. Five years is too short for the threat you will face, but it is the most we can do for you. Use every second wisely. You do not need to understand. You only need to listen. The truth of everything will be revealed in due time. I promise you that."
Marcei gave Igor's shoulder one final firm grasp before he stood up. That sparkle of life a child should have—he was tainting it with his hands piece by piece. It was a sully to the promise he made to the boy's mother.
[I apologize, Seraphine. But circumstances…]
A feeling of disgust welled up within him so much he tasted bile in his throat. Words meant for a young man were given to a five-year-old. Nothing could erase the guilt for ripping a child from his peace and condemning him to a death battle.
"Remember my words well, Igor. I do not wish to have your company anytime soon. If you survive, live well, live silent. Do not trust the Fallen. Do not trust the Devil. Do not trust the Angel. Their lies know no bounds. Their deceit is a craft they've honed for millennia. Hold my words dear, boy. The moment you are understood is the moment you are owned. Remember that always. The odds are against you as it is. "
He delivered his words and decisively turned around. His eyes were lost in a quagmire of quiet reproach, but the deed was done and could not be reversed. He only wished Igor would survive and live a full life…if he could, that is. Even injured, a stray devil presented an insurmountable mountain for a normal human.
"Tallus."
He placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. He was lost in thought like a mindless puppet.
"Marcei?"
Tallus lifted his head. His eyes were a whirlpool of doubt and guilt. Marcei only felt his decision to do the brunt was the most fitting.
"I'll be departing first, Tallus."
The time chamber was their people's greatest achievement—and the very reason they were destroyed. To power it, lives had to be sacrificed. Their lives were already forfeit. Their spirits would be consumed to further power the time dilation. But if he could give his brother just a few more moments with Igor, then he felt it was worth it.
"Don't make me wait too long."
His words were a quiet whisper. It was then that Tallus felt it. Heat poured through his shoulder. Marcei's remaining lifeforce flowed into him. Tallus's eyes widened.
"You…"
"Spend time with your grandson, Tallus."
His words were curt, for he had done what he needed to do. His words were seeds that would sprout as the boy's understanding grew. They were comforting words he told himself, but only he knew the turmoil in his heart.
"I'll be waiting on the other side…brother."
He no longer resisted the force. He fully embraced the pull with a content expression. He took no pride, but he did what needed to be done. His eyes closed as his body glowed. He uttered a small prayer in his heart…for he too, hoped for the promised land.
[May my soul reside with the Lord.]
A golden sheen covered his body. Gently, he dissolved into motes of light that vanished into the air. His soul had finally departed from the world of the living.
Tallus could no longer feel his brother's presence anywhere in the chamber. He closed his eyes to mourn. He was saddened by his departure, but he would not waste his sacrifice. His own clock was ticking. Perhaps he only had a minute or two before he could no longer exist in this plane.
"Ah, Marcei…"
His voice trembled. He silently prayed for his brother to be within the company of their ancestors once this torment ended.
"How I wish this never came to be…"
Tallus walked over and crouched down before Igor. He undid the gag silencing him along with the bindings restraining him to the chair.
"I'm sorry it came to this, Igor."
His tone was low and filled with self-reproach. He expected the boy to run, to scream, to curse. It would be well within his rights. He couldn't muster any strength within himself to continue what Marcei did. Was his sacrifice…a waste?
"Grand…pa?"
"..."
Tallus froze. His hands that were undoing the last restraint on Igor's leg suddenly stopped responding. His eyes blurred.
"Wha…what did you call me?"
His voice wavered. He couldn't believe his ears..
"Are…are you my grandpa?"
"..."
Tallus felt his cheeks dampen. His heart—so worn from grief finally beat with something other than pain: hope. All the feelings he suppressed stormed his body.
"Yes! I am your grandpa. I am your grandpa, Igor."
He hugged the boy tightly. His arms wrapped around his back, placing him securely in his embrace. It was his first time hugging Igor and it was everything he could wish for—to hold his flesh and blood one last time before his final breath.
"I'm sorry, Igor. Grandpa is very sorry."
He felt joy at his grandson's recognition, but also despair at his pain. He was the cause. His incompetency led to this outcome.
"G-Grandpa! Wh-what's going on? I want mama and papa!"
"..."
The questions tore him apart. How does he tell him?
"Oh, son of my son…"
How does he tell him his reality was nothing but a lie, an illusion? How does he tell this child that before his first year of life, his parents had passed on? How? He couldn't tell him—wouldn't tell him. It would break the boy. He wouldn't be able to handle the truth at such a fragile age.
"Your parents…your parents are waiting for you, Igor. If you can survive, you will see them. But you have to survive, okay? Promise grandpa you will survive."
Tallus cupped his cheeks and looked him in the eye. Blue met blue. A cracked bridge formed between them.
"Please promise me you will survive. No matter what you have to do."
Igor nodded quietly, but Tallus wasn't pleased. He was his only grandson, the offspring of his son and daughter-in-law. He couldn't let their legacy perish.
"Igor. You have to survive, okay? You have to survive."
"Grandpa?"
Tallus knew he was leaving his only grandchild high-strung in a sea of uncertainty, but he continued to plead.
"I don't care what means you use. You can fight, run, scream, beg, or trick the damned beast. It doesn't matter what method you must use. Just survive…please."
He pulled Igor into one final hug. His time was running out. He was soon to follow in his brother's footsteps. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay longer, to guide and cherish him like he was supposed to. But the artifact was cruel. It would always take what was sacrificed to it.
The tips of his fingers slowly began to disintegrate. Flaky pieces of his skin hovered around them. Tallus trembled both in fear and despair. The tears he so tried to restrain flowed down his cheeks.
"Igor. You are my only grandson. Know that grandpa loves you, okay? Grandpa loves you very much. So you mustn't follow after me. No matter what, you must live a very long life."
From his hands, to his arms, to his shoulders, his body fell apart like shredded paper in the wind. Tallus didn't want to depart yet. He didn't want to leave his grandson to an uncertain fate. His sadness was immense. His pain was all too clear on his cracking face.
"Please Igor! Please survive! Do you understand? Please survive! YOU MUST SURVIVE! YOU MUST!!!"
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|DxD|
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"Grandpa!!!"
Igor awoke with a jolt. His bed creaked at the sudden shift of weight. His body felt cold and his eyes trembled in their sockets. His cheeks were wet with silent tears he didn't remember shedding.
'Please Igor!'
His fists clenched tightly around his blanket. He could still see his grandfather's face as it slowly peeled and turned into ash right before his very eyes. He could still feel the moment the tips of his fingers ground like sand on his cheeks. Those panic-stricken eyes, pleading at him to survive, had left a mark on him…one he could never forget.
'YOU MUST SURVIVE!'
"..."
Igor wiped his face and got out of bed. He had to survive. And only through getting stronger will it increase his chances of fighting…or running away.
'YOU MUST!!!'
The words echoed in his mind. It had been three years since that incident. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, that the next time he opened his eyes, the first thing he'd smell would be his mother's cooking instead of damp wood.
His room was minimalist. From the floor to the ceiling, it was all wooden logs or wooden planks. A small standalone wardrobe sat in the corner with one of the doors left ajar. Piles of misplaced clothing were crammed inside. The floorboards thumped beneath his feet as routine set in. He had to get ready for the day.
A minute passed and Igor left the cabin in faded pants. He carried a small clock and was quietly munching on a nutrient bar. The same face of grim determination set in. He stood by the porch steps and took a bite of his first meal for the day.
Beyond the cabin, the world was grey-white for as far as the eye could see. There was no sun or nature in sight. The ground was like cold cement that stretched into an infinite flat expanse all around.
Every time he stood outside like this, he missed his family. His eyes would get lost in the horizon, sometimes with the faint hope that he would see their silhouettes.
'Look at the sun. Even if it rains or is covered by clouds, it still shines. See? Be like the sun, my little Igor. Always shine brightly and always smile, for you are mommy's little sun.'
"Mom…"
His tone was hollow, yet filled with quiet pain. Recalling them…it still hurt a lot. But he had to be strong and be like the sun. So he had to smile. No matter what he was facing, as long as he smiled, it would be better.
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|DxD|
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The sound of grit and the scent of sweat wafted through the air. Boyish grunts of exertion came just a few metres from the cabin. Igor was on his hands and feet doing pushups. His skin was covered in grime. He was on the last throes of his stamina.
Each push was met with heavy resistance. His arms were so numb he couldn't feel them, yet he still tried to press on through gritted teeth. His eyes blinked away droplets of sweat. His jaw was locked in determination.
He'd lost count of how many he'd done by now. His arms, his chest, his stomach, his back—all of it was sore. The urge to give up and flop on the ground was stronger than ever, but he could only push on—
*RING!*
The alarm clock suddenly rang. The shrill ring was a harmonic reprieve for Igor. His body fell flat on the ground. He could barely move. He panted for breath and could only wait until he got some proper feeling back in his body.
His eyes glanced across. To his side, a small notebook sat open. He couldn't see the writing clearly, but he could see the numbers.
2,738/10,000
"..."
A sense of frustration rose and disappeared just as quickly as it came. His clenched fists relaxed and all that was left was a helpless sigh. It was not his first time failing like this. This magical book had the ability to count his repetitions.
He regretted seeing the numbers. His mood plummeted, but he still had to get up. Igor pushed himself onto his knees before standing up. The action needed so much effort he had to take deep breaths.
He dragged his aching muscles back towards the rustic cabin. Just next to the porch steps, there was a large hourglass as tall as a door. Flowing between the two halves wasn't sand, but a white powdery substance that reminded Igor of ash…and his grandpa.
'YOU MUST SURVIVE!!!'
He closed his eyes in solemn recollection. The sudden memory was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He must never forget that once that ash runs through to the bottom, his time will be up. This was the time grandpa and teacher Marcei bought for him. He had to use it well and not waste it.
"I know, grandpa. I'll survive."
His voice was small, but its weight was heavy. He closed the door behind him and the minutes slowly trickled by. A door on the right was dedicated to a bathroom that only had a wooden tub and a toilet. Igor walked in with a small sachet in his hand. He tore off a section and poured the contents into the warm water.
His pants were already on the floor when the scent of herbs filled the room. He got into the tub and submerged himself in the water. His skin felt tingly and the sense of fatigue was slowly leaving him. The medicine was doing its work. By the time the effects ended, he would be as fresh as the moment he woke up.
He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. Sometimes, he would think of his family. Sometimes, it would be his grandpa and the beast he would face. He didn't know what it looked like. Would it be human? Would it be a monster? The lack of knowledge was both a reprieve and a frightening cause of concern.
Today, his mind moved back to the diary. It contained nothing more than a whole list of milestones a boy must reach to hone their bodies for better mana flow and control. Mana was the magic that powered everything here. He didn't have it yet, but as long as he worked hard, he believed he could have it too.
For the past three years, he had worked towards reaching these milestones. For some, he was very close, but for most, he was still far…just like the floor-presses. The description—to push himself up from the floor while maintaining a straight posture sounded and looked easy, but the required repetitions and the time constraints significantly increased the difficulty.
What vexed him in the past three years was he had not reached even half the needed repetitions. His brows furrowed in immense disappointment. He was failing not only himself, but his family.
"I hate this…"
His displeasure leaked out. Everyone depended on him to become stronger. He must get stronger so he can survive and not get eaten. Only two years were left, but despite giving it his all, he was still failing. This recent failure only made it clearer.
"I hate this! I hate this!! I hate this!!!"
The water splashed and spilled out at Igor's outburst. He wanted nothing more than to scream and curse. Why did it have to be him? Why was he chosen to be trapped in here? Did his parents miss him? Did they still remember him? All these thoughts that had been silent and suppressed surged forth like an overwhelming wave. His fists clenched in rage, his teeth gritted in rebellious refusal of this reality.
"Mom…"
He missed her. He tried to be the rising sun, to always smile even in the face of difficulty, but it was too hard, too hard without her to hold him. He missed her touch, missed her warm embrace.
"D-dad…"
His lips trembled and his breath hitched. He couldn't be strong like him. His father never shed a tear, yet he couldn't stop his. He covered his face to hide the weakness, but it seeped through the gaps in his fingers. He hated this place. He really hated this place.
Chapter 1
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