Arc 3 - Chapter 45: You Can't Run From Your Own Story

“Son of Joseph. Husband of bird or war.”

He didn’t open his eyes.

Seeing nothing, and unveiling nothing, he felt warm water press on his back and head. He couldn’t hear that crackling thunder, nor could he hear the ringing cicadas.

“Be not afraid for who I am, but to take heed for what may come. So hear my call.”

He tried to ebbed himself out, but he couldn’t. He felt no warmth or strength in his arms, nor in his shoulders. In fact, he began to feel nothing.

“Don’t fear the release of death, and don’t bargain for the relief of rest. Stand unshaken. Stand with kindness.”

The sluggish water began to croak.

Not knowing when to draw breath, not knowing when to reclaim warmth, nothingness faded. Right in front of him, a yellow light flashed, and he opened his eyes.

“Do not mistake your purity for weakness. Do not hold sins that carve illusion. And most of all…”

His vision bent, and his own eyes caught blurs of white. Like time had fastened, all the things around him shook violently at hyper speed. Vibrating against the acceleration of…

Blackness blocked his eyes once more.

—“Do not fear yourself.”—

________________________________________________________________________

He jolted out of—

Sand grained his skin.

Jumping out with the motion of his arch, it covered every pore of his skin. Shaking his head back and forth, he tried to get the sand out from his ears, but only sprinkles escaped. Finally slowing his bobbing head, he finally gained witness to the sights around him.

Hot wind blew against his face. He glanced to his left, and his right, but he saw nothing but sand.

“Where…”

No matter how far he could see, he would only find the trillion, no, quadrillion grains of sand spreading the landscape. Dunes, blowing wind, the sky was clear and void of clouds.

“Am I…”

An old man stood a few meters away.

Wearing all black, he also wore a facial mask, giving him a defense for his cheeks. Both of his hands to his sides, it looked as if his fingers and knuckles wrinkled from the 0% humidity. Luke watched him just stare into the distance, completely silent.

“Took you long enough.”

He had his back against him. From his medium-length gray hair, and his black leather jacket and pants, he felt odd. As if he knew the man…

“You look familiar.”

“I get that a lot.”

Luke glanced at his nails, which were distilled yellow. Looking like the man didn’t keep his hands in check, what can the old man do?

Rising up from the sand, Luke tried to stare into the same direction as the old man. But same as usual, nothing whispered about life.

“What is this place?”

“The remains of a graveyard planet. Everyone that lived here perished from the extreme heat. I’m the only survivor.”

“So then what happened?”

A cloud of khaki yellow roamed toward the west, and the old man turned toward that direction. Even though it was from afar, he could tell it was coming toward him.

“I made a mistake.”

And right in front of his boots, was a sandy cliff.

Having his hands in his pockets, he kept them there, while mesmerizing the sight in front of him. Hearing the howling wind, it couldn’t lift open his mask, while Luke began walking toward him.

“And that mistake led to everyone’s deaths. But me being me, I tasked myself with one final gamble.”

“Gamble?”

“To finish what I started.”

Turning around, the old man noticed Luke standing a meter away. Standing still, standing with narrowed eyes, it didn’t push the old man to take a step back. No, he stood still too.

“But you talk like you know me. Most people would question who I am.”

“I don’t care at this point. I’m just tired. Everything that I did, everything that I achieved, well…”

“You’re giving up?”

Luke balled his right hand, and felt his fingers dig deep into his palm.

Giving up? Tucking tail and run? Of course he didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to abandon his friends to save… he did. From their perspective, he did run away. Biting down on his teeth, Luke growled from his throat.

“Why are you talking to me like you know me?”

“I said the same thing. Again, why are you giving up?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m—”

“Being tired isn’t an excuse.”

The old man turned around once more, and walked two to three steps forward. Having the tip of his boots rest on the cliff’s edge, he didn’t look down. Luke saw the way his posture was, the way he didn’t allow fear to manhandle his body.

“You see, I have a plan, one that’ll break this cursed cycle. Do you know who’s the key to breaking it?”

Luke went silent. The wind began to die down, and his ears opened up. Letting go of his balled hands, he laid them to rest on his thighs.

“What do you take me for ‘The Chosen One?’ I’m not some important key.”

“Oh really? After everything that you went through, like jumping off that tower?”

“Hey hold on, wait…”

Luke dug his boots into the sand. Without sinking like some rock, he furrowed his brow, once the talk began to scrunch up his brain folds. The old man tilted up his head, as he knew he caught him by the hook of a line.

“How did you know what happened in Lagefor?”

Luke’s knuckles felt pinched against the sand, but he didn’t push them into his pockets, as he noticed the old man moving his hands. He took two steps forward, and extended his arm out.

Taking the object that he had, Luke analyzed the glass. He noticed the disfigured color, as well as the brittleness of the vial.

“Wait a minute… this vial…”

“Do you recognize the manufacturer? The logo?”

“It’s the same vials that I used in my experiments.”

“Correct. Now please, let us walk.”

“Walk where?”

“A stroll. You love walking do you? You did walk half a thousand miles when you were 12.”

Luke and the old man walked side by side.

Looking up at the sun, the midday rays burned through his hair. Straining his cheeks, along with his forehead, the mini waves of heat blurred the endless horizon. And with his right thumb, he rubbed the vial that felt… old and worn.

“So about your plan… who else knows of it?”

“A mixture of everyone I suppose. I guess most of them are those who don’t align with you. Not at this moment.”

He and the old man noticed that brown dot, that small sandstorm that began to grow. For some reason, seeing it worsened his legs, making him feel like he was stepping on stepping stones.

Still having that furrowed brow, he raised his voice once more, while his fingers shivered out of frustration.

“So who exactly knows? Names. Give me names.”

“If I tell you now, you wouldn’t make it past the next ordeal. I’m sure of it.”

“Wait what—”

“Just shut up and walk.”

They continued to walk alongside the cliff, and the wind began to grow in speed. Each step, each stomp with their boot, they felt the sand shift. The more they walked, the longer they felt their skin swell. Well, mostly Luke.

Seeing Luke was restless, the old man exhaled through parched nostrils. Relaxing his shoulders, down to his arms, he slugged his back forward.

“What do you want to know, Lagefor, or my plan?”

The old man looked up toward the sky, and he analyzed the way the sun shone on his face. Stopping his walk, so did Luke, who balled his left hand inward.

“L-Lagefor. Tell me about Lagefor.”

Luke kept that hand balled, while the old man pulled out both of his. Rubbing them back and forth, his old and wrinkled fingers scratched against each other. The old man clasped his hands together, and stared into the increasing sandstorm.

“I know each ordeal you’ll partake in. From your past, to the fall, to the counterattack, I know.”

He loosened both of his hands, and laid them to rest on his thighs. Surprise taking his face, he took a step forward, and stood right next to the old man. He didn’t look at his face, as he still wore that black facial mask.

But he instead looked down at the cliff’s edge.

“Each ordeal… you mean there’s more of… this?”

“Yes. A lot more. I’m not telling you the count, but it’s to prove your—”

“But why me?”

Luke darkened his eyes the more he stared down. Scrunching up his cheeks, both of his temples strained out veins. He didn’t ball his hands, but the midday sun casted a shadow across his face.

“Why choose me out of all people? I thought I said I’m not some ‘Chosen One.’”

The old man didn’t turn.

He had his hands to his sides, and Luke failed to glance at his surroundings. He couldn't hear the howling wind, or the sandstorm that grew from the west. But his concentration faded, once he heard the man’s voice.

—“Sometimes, I wonder about that too.”—

He heard him from behind.

For some reason, he couldn’t look behind, and his instincts began to fail … wait … fail? Why was his own instincts malfunctioning?

“You’re not the only one holding illusionary sins.”

He felt a palm so crippled with dryness. Feeling his fingers cusp the back of his neck, he stood still, and froze like a deer in headlights. Letting his hands succumb to gravity, it was like he was held hostage.

“I’ve made mistakes. I’ve regretted decisions. But, there was one thing that I did not regret.”

“A-And that is?”

“Having a group that has each other’s backs.”

Flashes of yellow appeared in his mind, and it replaced the sand that he stared into. Each person, each smile he saw, it reflected the innermost of his mind. Nostalgia, warmth, he remembered each person’s face that he burned in memory.

Once he was pulled out from that trance, he felt his face wrinkle.

“Helping out your friends in need, supporting those at their lowest, that’s what differentiates between groups and families.”

“T-Then just who are you!? Why do you know so much about me anyway huh!?”

Silence drew from the old man.

Only the blistering wind blew against his face, and the old man loosened his hold on Luke’s neck. Lowering his head an inch downward, he sullied his face with a sense of calmness…

“I’m no ringleader, nor am I your enemy.”

Taking a step back, the old man saw that Luke stood motionless. Lowering his hand, he rested it into his pocket, while he—

“I’m just your ordinary geriatric.”

—Kicked Luke off from the cliff.—

Being a 180 degree drop, Luke couldn’t grab onto the edges nor walls. Well, there were no walls. Only clinging onto fastening sand, it was better to free fall then to try to break it. Unable to scream, or even yelp, he tightened his jaws the more he stared at the incoming—

Blackness took hold, but he wiggled his fingers.

Arching his head up, he coughed out sand that swept into his mouth. Sticking out his tongue, the burning sand had saved him, and he shook his head. Rising up from the ground, he noticed a small river of sand from behind.

The old man had slid down with only his boot and back. Posing it off as nothing more than a chore, he walked through the knee-deep sand toward the gawking Luke.

“W-Why did you do that!?”

“Pipe down. You’re still alive, are you? I knew the sand was blanketed.”

“Yet still! You just pushed me like I was—”

“You fell down on your back. A month prior, you fell head first into that fiery city. My question is this, why did you fall on your back?”

Luke could barely trace his eyes, but he had worn goggles that shielded him from the sand. As the old man shook sand from his clothes, Luke averted his eyes away.

The old man took a step forward, and their heights equaled. With the sun protecting them from its burning rays, it was cold, as the shadow of the dune quivered his bones.

“I don’t know…”

“A man with resolve always falls headfirst. Where’s that same resolve that pulled you to be a soldier.”

He heard a voice nibble in his ears.

Turning around, he saw to his right that it was nothing. But in his imagination, or within his eardrums, he swore he heard it. It was a whisper, something that bordered to that of an insane man’s voice. It wasn’t devilish, nor was it condescending… but immature.

[Wake up…]

Luke widened his eyes, with the crevices of his eyes withholding batches of water. Floods of memories began to play, and his whole mind was filled with … yellow. He smelt it, heard it, visioned it, and above all; he lived through it.

[Wake up sleepyhead…]

He remembered his promise to her.

But having a hole inside of his heart, he didn’t know how to fix it. Could he change to a new goal? Try to modify—

[Don’t ever give up…]

A tear escaped from his right eye. Raising his right hand, he rubbed his eye with only his bare knuckles. Sniffling once, he cleared his throat, and felt his eyes burn under their pinkish red states.

—She really was the life of the group.

The wind began to fasten, with the sand above enacting like bb pellets. From the dune’s edge, the sand began to swell down, with both of their boots enveloping in the burning substance.

But they both ignored the burning pain.

“I fulfilled her vow to become a soldier, but that isn’t enough to save my friends. If you know them, how can I save them?”

“You want my help?”

“After all … you know how this ends.”

Pushing both of his hands into his pocket, the old man arched his head back, and inhaled in the desert air. Marinating his wrinkled lungs with it, he pushed it out, only to gruff out a single cough. Unlike Luke, he didn’t shiver, as the shadow of the dune created a brittle warmth he can’t explain.

“You’re their leader. I can’t give you the cheat codes, nor the future. I’m only here to push you forward.”

“But how! Give me something damnit!”

“Just think of something. You have good ideas, and your luck is stacked to the max.”

“But I’m not a leader!”

Luke yelled through recoiled vocals, which shifted and vibrated like metal springs. Feeling his body burn, not from the air but from himself, he balled both of his hands. Having his fingers sink deep into his palms, a small dribble of blood emerged from both of them.

“I’m me! And me cannot think of anything! If you summoned me here for a pep talk, and in inside this goddamn waste of a planet, then why—”

“Then be a leader.”

Luke still kept his hands balled, as his whole face began to shade crimson. Feeling his teeth rub, he wanted to growl, he wanted to shake his head. Wanting nothing more than the old man’s advice, what he was giving him was nothing more than words.

Or is it?

Luke shook his hands, and he took two steps forward. Having his fingers dig deep into his palms, his eyes were all-wide. The old man took note of this.

“Instead of making a goal that you can reach, make a goal that is far from your fingers. If you do that, and if you fail, you’ll reach your original dream.”

“But I need… I need…”

“You will find help. But not from me.”

He thrusted a fist.

Without blinking, Luke fell down, and felt his back, hair, and legs be one with the sand. Once the pain swelled in his right cheek, it burned, as the bits of sand stung and prickled his skin. Clenching his whole body in pain, he hissed air through his teeth, and raised a hand toward the swelling area.

“Ow! What was that for!?”

“You wanted to strike me. I sensed that anger, that implosive anger that wanted to lunge out. I had to defuse you somehow.”

“... why do you hate me?”

The old man pushed his fist into his pocket, and broke up his fingers. Looking down at the groveling young man, his eyes darkened, leaving eyebags to cloud his upper cheeks. Feeling the sand swallow his boots, the level began to rise…

And his body began to shake.

“I used to… I used to hate your entire being. At your lowest, I thought of you as nothing more than a useless NPC you find in a video game… but … I have high expectations.”

With his other hand, he extended it down, and saw Luke shiver his fingers against the burning grain. Along with his ankles swelling up from the heat, every second felt like the air worsened.

And both of them locked eyes, but Luke saw no color in those goggles.

“So use that head. It gets you out of situations the same as your luck.”

Biting his lower lip, he took the old man’s hand, and rose from the ground. Without talking back, nor had thoughts of frustration, he sealed his lips and stood with a straight back.

But the wind fastened, and the visibility around them began to lower.

“But because of this wind, our time is running short. You have two options. You could ask me about the plan, or ask me about my identity, but you only have time for one.”

Using his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth, he could barely see straight through the winding sand. His leather jacket flapping against his sides, he couldn’t walk, nor take a step forward. In fact, the sand began to accumulate higher than his ankles.

“Your name… tell me your name.”

Squinting straight at the old man, he too felt the burning sand begin to envelop his shins.

“I want to know who you are, and why you know so much about me…”

The sand reached their knees, and the visibility worsened all around. Being the only things they were seeing, their eyes were barely able to keep hold. The wind screaming, and the darkness shadowing them, the old man had no choice but to raise his right hand.

“This is coming from the bottom of the heart… for when I say this to you.”

He took off his fedora.

And with his other hand, he took off his goggles and facial mask. Unwrapping them, the sight in front of him was finally revealed. Gray hair, saggy cheeks, his eyes were—

—Glowing red.—

“Be better than me.”

Reaching up toward their thighs, the rate the sand grew exploded. Barely able to hear the old man’s voice—no. To hear Luke’s voice, Luke felt the sand replace the background.

“Save you friends! Save Luna and Hope! But never forget—”

His vision dissipated by the shadow above, and the burning sand climbed like spiders. Feeling it rise up to his stomach, along with his chest, he couldn’t extend out his hand.

But his vision wasn’t the only thing to turn black.

Smell, touch, and taste fading into the abyss, his nerves terminated its usage. As if he was one with the darkness—no, he’ll fight it. He’ll bring them back, he’ll do what is needed. If it means that he’ll continue to be a criminal… so be it.

And with his hearing being the last thing to fade; the wind stopped. But his thoughts roared.

But whose?

—You can’t run from your own story.

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 5, 59 / 12:02AM)

He opened his eyes.

As if a current had run across his body, every muscle and bone rattled like a rattlesnake. His heart skipping a beat, the air in his lungs sprang out with force. Arching his whole body forward, he remained in a sitting position. And up above, was a sky that was still shrouded in clouds.

—Hm?

Turning to his right, was a green donkey inches from his face. It’s nuzzle hovering near his cheek, it sniffed, and it stuck out its tongue…

To lick his face.

“H-Hey!”

Shooing away the donkey, it took a few steps back, before showing its teeth. Like it was teasing him, Luke rolled his eyes, before feeling the warm water soaking his pants and back.

—This is the same donkey from the Zirardge Ranch…

Thunder roaring on the horizon, it was like an orchestra of gongs rallying the wind. Along with blue flashes above giving him light, the wind picked up.

—But I think I might know what to do.

Getting up from the ankle deep water, he heard the droplets sprinkle down like icicles. Feeling his socks, along with his boots mush in the mildew odor, he shook his head back and forth.

—I need to save them. No. I must save them. But I can’t rely on my smarts and luck alone.

Looking up at the sky, another flash of lightning sparkled his eyes. For a split second, he thought he saw a figure. In less than a millisecond, he thought he caught a whiff of a particular woman…

But he placed both of his hands on the donkey.

—I need all the help I could get. Any hand, whether it be from Christian, Pacifica, even their Boss, I need to prove myself one way or another.

Lifting himself up, the fur that grazed his palms was coated in so much coarseness. Feeling the hard coat, a soft blow of air exhaled from the donkey’s nostrils. Pushing its ears back, Luke had himself on the center of its back.

Grabbing the reins, he looked upon the way it stood without quivering. The way its hind legs carried its body, along with the rider, he stared Northward.

—Just hope they are more than willing to listen. From the way Chris looked… I don’t think he’ll make it.

Kicking the donkey’s hind leg, his bottom heel pushed the donkey to charge forward.

Clamping and thundering the muddy grass and dirt, Luke barely had a hold for those small reins. With the sky above emitting thunder and lightning, it looked like it traveled Southward. He glared into the howling night.

—But I have to make my own miracles somehow.

With his left hand, he manhandled the reins. And with his right, he pulled out an uzi from his right hip. Hunching his body forward, he was quick to rock with the motion of the moving donkey.

—Like a ghost-rider that rode between night and sky.—