Friendship and Murder

Subject: Mortimer | Classif.: Sirath

Never in his wildest imagination did Tim foresee Mia making a friend! He was so proud, he might even let her fire off another round in public! Probably not the best idea now that they were in the car with curious villagers looking at them, but still, he could hardly contain the pride swelling in his chest. He felt younger already!

Granted, the mech-human boy from the playground earlier seemed to be way friendlier to her than she was to him, but it was a start. That Jasper succeeded where so many others failed.

For so many years, he tried to get her to socialize with children her age in Pitstop. A herculean effort. She avoided her peers like the plague. It was as if the trauma Mia experienced on The Surface extended beyond just “bad guys.” Tim never tried to pry open what she kept hidden, giving her all the space and time she needed. Now, it seemed to be paying off.

She stood her ground, dealt with bullies, applied first-aid correctly, and even made a friend! Mia’s enthusiastic sharing about her day was still playing on repeat like music to his ears. The perfect remedy for his concerns over Harlow and Old Gold. Doubt and reservation still haunted his thoughts, but at least he had Mia’s achievements filling in the cracks in his mind.

Thanks to that, he arrived at a firm conclusion. If Harlow truly had fallen, he would put him down.

The day I lose my humanity is the day I find peace.

That was the creed they all followed. Monster, machine, and traitor Aberrations alike—all who fought on the side of humanity had to subscribe to the ambiguous virtue of being human. A lofty, unspoken rule, one that all the powers that be agreed to even after the Aberration War. Those who played in the fragile playground that was the Spire were forced to play nice.

This was the only way for godlike beings who can end reality at the flick of a finger to coexist. By trying to be human. Even Old Gold, who never fought in the war as Tim recalled, was not seen as a threat to the Spire for the simple reason that it, too, adhered to the same ideology. Though interpretations differ, maintaining one’s sense of self and practicing self-control were generally the way to go.

Going against those guidelines was always a bad idea. Like Pris, the Spire might be in a much worse state than before, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t constantly nudging the world back into balance. Far from it. Be it fate or causality manipulation, it could and would knock someone down a peg if they were ruining things for everyone. Tim already felt it firsthand. Meeting Mia and developing this bond in spite of his curse was the punishment he got for attempting world domination in the past. At least, this was how he saw it.

Harlow’s demand for mech-human sacrifices might seem tame compared to Tim’s genocide, but if Old Gold were to be believed, it might be the start of something far worse.

Believe it or not, the dragon you once knew is gone. Inside the cave lies a creature that seeks nothing more than the destruction of existence itself.

Those were the Alchemist’s exact words. “Seeking the destruction of existence itself” sounded way too exaggerated, but on the off-chance it was true, then it fell on Tim’s shoulders to put an end to it. It wasn’t so much about defending the world—he was already past that.

It was the right thing to do as his student.

The day I lose my humanity is the day I find peace.

He would need to give that “peace” to his old mentor, then. The only question was: how?

How to defeat someone who can survive a reality-ending attack? The Spire would break before Harlow, no doubt about it. Maybe he just needed to knock some sense into the dragon? How could he get close without being turned to ash?

It also didn’t help that he wasn't as quick and strong as before. If young Tim couldn’t beat Harlow, how could a geriatric like him even stand a chance?

His tired mind wandered in search of a solution as he drove absent-mindedly through the village. The dirt path was wide enough to accommodate large robots, but there was no answer to be found there. If anything, the disorienting mishmash of colors on the buildings on both sides of the road made it harder. Visual noise turned mental.

Both Mia and Lynn seemed used to chaos, but they weren’t the ones with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Such were the cards dealt to him. And as a gambler, he had been dealt worse before.

As if to remind him of that fact, a large monument emerged in his view after he turned into a roundabout. Familiar faces were etched onto the countless layers of sheet metal that stood erect in the center of the space. Faces that only he knew.

Orbital Cannon Byzantium

Harlow the Ever-Smiling

Weissilde, Mage of Ruin

The One Who Waits at the End of the World.

And finally, the Nameless Hero. The only human to have ever reached Qanthorah class. Was he still continuing the fight in other realities? Tim wasn’t sure.

But even after the Hero erased his name to protect this reality, Tim could still remember fighting alongside him and the rest of the party like it was yesterday. Bonds forged through blood, oil, and acid, refined through shared understanding and misunderstanding alike. They had their differences. Ugly moments. Bitter failures. But they were the finest bunch of misfits he had the pleasure of fighting side by side with. If he could turn back time to charge knee-deep into the worst horrors imaginable, he would gladly do so with them again.

Maybe then, he would have his statue there with the others, too. Maybe he wouldn't be known as Ewantree the Traitor. Even after making peace with his past, the threads of possibility still tugged in his mind from time to time, wondering the difference he would have made if he were to make things right. But it was those mistakes that shaped him into who he was.

The bad hands he played. The humiliating failures. When he remembered the godlike beings he fought against and survived, suddenly Harlow didn't seem as daunting anymore.

There was not much point in stressing out about strategies or tactics. Any carefully crafted plan would get thrown out of the window the instant he gets vaporized. All he could do was to trust his instincts and experience. Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.

Tim smiled. He could already picture Harlow lecturing him for overthinking. He'd give anything to hear the dragon’s boisterous, palpitation-inducing voice again. That little statue at the roundabout barely captured his size and power. And as the car drove past the art installation, his grip around the steering wheel loosened. The tension in his forehead was released alongside the wrinkles.

His problems didn’t go away; just how he saw them.

Driving past the village’s main gate, Fuzzy Wuzzy waved them goodbye like an excited child. But in the middle of the huge robot’s exaggerated motions, it paused, remembered something, then gave a deep bow. Tim casually lifted his hand in response. And for a brief moment, he felt Lynn’s envious gaze searing a hole through his headrest and into his skull.

But before he could say anything, the princess opened her mouth first. She switched the topic before it even began.

“So? What’s the plan with your dragon friend?”

“Plan’s the same. We go in, let Mia get a good look at the guy, and get out.”

Mia voiced her concern. “But, it might be dangerous now, right?”

“Right. So the moment you see Harlow, I want you to run as fast as you can, got it?” He reassured her. “And Lynn. Just in case he and I start fighting, could you reinforce the cave with your magic?”

“What?!”

“I’d much rather fight a dragon in a cave than one that’s flying around in the sky. You have what it takes to keep the cave from falling apart?”

“Just who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Excellent. Plan’s settled.” He forced a smile.

As the outline of the village vanished from the rearview mirror, he bade one final goodbye to his old comrades, something he never did in the past. It was almost funny how he, of all people, was on the way to settle a millennia-old rivalry between Harlow and Byzantium, by proxy of the latter's descendants. This was usually Weiss’s job. The “mom” of the group. Tim saw himself as more of the problem child. Him choosing to clean up their mess was probably karma from the Spire again.

Regardless of what the reality anchor did or did not do, he calmly accepted his circumstances as he shifted gears. The car sped up. Its engine breathed freely, intake manifold inhaling the fresh air. Trees and vegetation alike vanished as they cut across the forest. With Old Gold’s directions, Tim didn’t need to second-guess himself anymore.

He made a beeline for the cave. It had “moved” to almost the other end of the forest over the centuries. The difference between knowing where to go and randomly searching could have been anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Thanks to the village chief, he found the place in just half an hour.

Only, there was nothing picturesque waiting for them there. The mouth of the cave bled oil. A massacre had taken place. Mech-human bodies were strewn about. Eight of them, bodies engraved with alchemical enchantments. The light in their camera-eyes all but extinguished.

Tim got out of the car, disbelief worming its way into his face. These were the bots who were supposed to be keeping the evil within the cave sealed. The ones who facilitated the sacrifices. As their oil-blood seeped to the sole of his shoe, he knew right away.

They were all killed just moments ago. He was late by mere minutes.

Mia stepped outside the car and immediately went near one of the bodies, getting down on one knee. Before Tim could even say anything, his daughter pushed the metal corpse, rolling it over to its front. Protruding out of its chest was an arrow. The feathers at the end glowed with an otherworldly energy. A single shot was all that was needed to puncture steel and put down a quarter-ton mech-human.

“What in the king’s name happened here…” Lynn shared Tim’s shock over the unwelcome surprise.

Only Mia remained unperturbed.

“Remember the robot that I saw? Before coming to the village? He is a hunter named Zaffre. These are his arrows.”

Tim massaged his temples, his hand squeezing his forehead like a vice. Why would a third party suddenly interfere? And out of all times, it had to be now.

Lynn thought aloud. “This hunter has a death wish, trying to unseal the dragon.”

Mia shook her head. “He’s looking for Iris, his missing daughter.”

“A sacrifice, then.” Lynn corrected herself.

Tim urged, “We have to go. Now.”

He rushed into the cave, Mia and Lynn behind him. Trouble was brewing in the cave. He could feel it vibrating in his bones.

Light faded the deeper they went, replaced by flickering torches on both sides along the cave's walls. More and more corpses pointed them in the right direction. Each one was sniped down with fearsome accuracy. Single arrow. Center mass. The victims didn’t even know they died.

But as their footsteps echoed throughout the space, the sound felt off, as if there were more than three sets of steps reverberating around them.

Tim paused, gesturing for Mia and Lynn to do the same. When they stopped, his fears came true. Emerging out of the darkness in front of them, a squad of mech-humans stepped forward.

“Intruders detected. Begin elimination protocol.”