Ch 37: The Executioner.

Woken by the thumping pain in his head, he forced open his heavy eyelids. The white walls and the thin tubing piercing his arm caused the rhythmic beeping to accelerate.

Did I fall asleep again? This should be the last night now.

He sat up, feeling the sheets damp with cold sweat. A bouquet of flowers and a note were laid on the windowsill, cozy, safe inside from the hammering of rain.

Those two rascals.

He squinted his eyes, leaning closer to read the messy writing. Snow wrote it; it had to be, only she used such large letters that were always slightly off position. “I hope you wake up feeling amazing!”. Every day, it was a different handwritten message and a collection of flowers.

The flowers were fresh, still dripping with rain. Snow visited every day, twice without fail. And so did Shell, even before he was discharged, he’d sneak out only to be yelled at by the nurses.

Rolling down the sleeves of his gown, he massaged the bruises on his brawny forearms. He was mostly healed, only staying in the infirmary due to the repeated pleas of the nurses.

I’m fine. I’ve recovered faster from even worse injuries.

It took a large amount of courage to stay in this room. Just the sight of the beeping machines, the white walls, the bed, and the creeping smell of blood and pus patched up with antiseptic caused his entire body to tighten. It was claustrophobic, causing everything to constrict and tighten, from his thoughts to his heart and his stomach. To be here was a greater struggle than charging forward on the battlefield. To him, lying here was a greater fear than bleeding out on the battlefield. Was it irrational? No. No matter how many times he tried to think it through and calm himself down, the anxiety would always consume him.

Throughout my life, I thought my biggest regret was not spending enough time with my family before they passed away. That’s what I tell myself. But in her final days, I didn’t even visit her. The depressed look on the nurse's face when I would walk in, swerving between the metal contraptions and machines. The hollow, bright lights shining on the claustrophobic walls. Seeing the skin and bones, empty eyes, and hollow cheeks of someone I used to recognise. Someone I loved. I couldn’t do it.

You were so brave. Braver than me. I was scared. Scared to even see you in that state. I thought that if I occupied myself on the battlefield, I was fighting for you. But I was only doing it for myself, too scared to stand by your side.

But now, I can redeem myself. I could even forgive myself and save millions of lives from now and into the future. I could prevent it from ever happening to anyone again.

I’m just one mission away. One victory away.

Oden ripped the tubing from his arm, grunting through the pain, and rubbed his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Wandering through the pouring rain, he reached a large dome-shaped building.

“Whoa, did you go swimming or something?” Hiro pointed to the brawny man with a gentle smile, who was bringing a trail of water behind him.

“ODEN!” Mira’s eyes lit up, rushing forward, wrapping her arms around him.

“Whoa, be careful, you’re gonna get me injured again,” He chuckled softly, returning a wave to Ace. “How long have you guys been in the training grounds?”

“Since early morning,” Mira replied, “Hiro got here like 5 minutes ago though.”

“HEY! I DID NOT!”

The spacious dome was filled with a shooting range, obstacle courses, training dummies, and cages for mock battles. Judging from the panting and black hair drenched in sweat, Oden figured that one person was training much harder than the rest.

“Working hard?”

“Nah, hard while working,” Ace smiled, hearing Hiro’s wheezing in the background.

Oden returned a soft chuckle. “Where’s Snow and Shell?”

“Resting,” Mira replied.

The mission would begin in just less than 36 hours. Snow and Shell wanted to prioritize getting well-rested. If they saw Oden in the training grounds, they would definitely scold him for not doing the same.

“Well,” Hiro said, walking up to Ace, who was looking down the scope of his rifle at the Shooting Range. “Feel the pressure yet? Scared?”

“Ah, that’s right—man of the mission.” Oden planted his large hand on Ace’s shoulder after he hit the target dead centre.

“Maybe a little bit, but I'm excited. I feel like since coming to this world-“

Hiro’s eyes sharpened, his eyebrows raised at Ace.

“Place. Ever since coming to this place, I feel like I’ve been strung along with things out of my control, like being relentlessly pulled by fate. I’m done with feeling powerless.”

“We really are one in the same.”

Me like Hiro? He keeps telling me that, but I still don’t see it. Not one bit. How are we even remotely alike?

“Hey,” Oden looked at Ace with his weathered eyes. “It’s alright to be scared. Having courage isn’t about never feeling fear. It’s feeling it but moving forward anyway.”

“Says the person who never shows it,” Mira scrunched her brows at Oden. “Always stuck in your ways, huh, old man?”

“I think everyone’s stuck in their ways; even you’re stuck here. I know how long you’ve been waiting to leave.”

“I can’t just…leave everything and everyone behind. Besides, where is there to go?”

“Mira, do you think you choose what path to take? Hoping it’s the right one? You might think you have the choice. To go that way or that way. But it wasn’t you that set the paths themselves. The real choices were already made, a long time ago.”

“Well, I decided to take the fattest sh*t this morning and I think that was a choice.” Hiro sneered.

Ace smiled, planting the stock of his rifle deeper into his shoulder. “It wasn’t because if you didn’t, you would’ve shat yourself later on anyway.”

“Hey, what made you two join the spearhead?” Oden asked, placing one arm on each of their shoulders.

“I’m looking for someone who went missing,” Ace replied.

“Hiro, what about you?” Mira looked toward the smug inventor, who was now fidgeting with a gadget he had fetched from his trench coat. “You said you grew up in the Barrens, right? How come?”

“Well, most of my family died from an…accident. And my dad offed himself. So, I was kinda…ya know. Left to fend for myself.”

Oden fell to one knee before Hiro. A warrior's sign of respect. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No stand up. It’s fine, really. My end goal is to reach the Summit.”

“The Summit, huh?” Oden looked Hiro up and down as he played with the gadget in his hand. It was a statement that held the weight of the world. Oden couldn’t think of a more ambitious goal if he tried. Yet he said it so casually.

"And you?"

“I was a travelling mercenary. I came from Hearum originally, North of Scaria.”

“You must’ve travelled far.”

Oden nodded, the memories bleeding out of his eyes. “I was lost. With the axe on my back, I searched for purpose. I killed many. Thousands. It wasn’t until I ran into her majesty that I finally thought I met my match—someone who would grant me a warrior's death. But instead, she gave me purpose and something to fight for. Since then, the Spearhead has had 12 mages and 17 warriors. I remember every single one. Their lives slipping through my fingers.”

The Executioner of the Phoenix Syndicate, an armoured giant with the strength of many men, had a kind heart. His gentle eyes glistened with tears that were held back.

“Worry not. The Spearhead is a team; you will never be left to bleed on the battlefield alone. I can promise you that.”