Pat. Pat. Pat.

  Zero’s footsteps echoed through the keep. Granite walls rose like a mausoleum, a crimson carpet unfurling like an artery toward the throne. He was small, but he walked like a colossus — measured, collected, certain.

  Saraline trailed him, chewing leftovers, hands tangled in her hair. She swayed, restless but unafraid, eyes flicking across the portraits that lined the corridor.

  On the wall was a painting of Ivory, he was wrestling with a large Centaur; his muscular build eclipsing the beast as he brandished a bright smile on his face. Zero swayed away form it, his eyes not even meeting the painting as he focused solely on walking forward.

  “How’s your time been as a Slavi?” Dara’s eyes widened, joyfully— she walked with her feet kicking the air, posture bent as she scooped closer to Zero who’s eyes still stayed on in front.

  “Difficult for most of it. My vendettas clouded my purpose,” he said—his voice graceful now, no longer slippery like Satan’s, but heavy with false meaning. “To be the Savior.”

  “What do you exactly mean by ‘The Savior’?” Psylaiso was behind them all, her pace slower but her posture was similar to Zero and up right, her eyes motioned from each corner of the hallway, examining— observing.

  “You’ll understand soon enough.” Zero tilted his head— the only time he looked away from north as his gaze met with Psylaiso’s stare, his eyes leering. “I’m sorry.” He pushed his head forward once more, “The only ones present in the entire premises is Me, Medea and Ivory.”

  “Gabriel?” Psylaiso leaned her body against the wall, she intentionally made her back sticky to create an icon— the rebellious spiral.

  “He’s unconscious after a fight with Ivory.” Zero’s smile was visibly seen albeit his back turned towards the others, “Hecate is doing whatever she wants— even if she was here, she wouldn’t be helpful. Ozymandias is well helping Lichness with army training in the barracks— not far from here actually.”

  “What about Famine? Isn’t he the Royal Advisor?” Dara tilted her glasses up as Zero paused.

  He paused and turned around, his face was emotionless as his pale pupils bulged. He coughed, for the first time but retained the position of his right hand over his chest— his heart. His mouth began to speak, “He has his office and mansion away from here. He only arrives when Medea personally wants him to come or a catastrophe has happened.” He tipped his head to his right side, quietly chuckling; turning around and continuing to walk.

  “The way you acted was as if something bad happened.” Saraline forced a smile, a droplet of sweat dissipated from her forehead as she lifted her thin eyebrows; looking at Psylaiso behind who held Dara close— shaking her head.

  “Oh nothing, it just hurts my head sometimes to remember stuff.” Zero walked, he stopped in his tracks— the path ahead was still far as he sighed. “I’m bored of this already.” “So boring.” He looked at the ceiling — it pulsed, whispering in a dozen overlapping voices, soft as static in his skull.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Oh, alright.” He swiped his lower lip with his left hand before continuing to walk— the others following, Psylaiso slowly create markings on the wall.

  The individuals walked and saw an array of cobble archs to the outside, the sun was beginning to set as an illuminism of orange hue set around the sky. Zero walked out— on one of the benches was Ivory who was panting— sweating; opposite from him was a dense dummy, for fighting.

  “Ivory.” Zero lifted his head up, smiling as he shook hands with his comrade— with his left arm of course.

  “I didn’t take you for a womaniser.” Ivory lifted his eyebrows as his eyes landed on Dara specifically, “Can I take that one?”

  “Don’t speak like that you pig.” Zero forced a smile, “Stop your shit— you give us a bad representation already.”

  “Something been off with you ever since I fought Gabe— what’s wrong?” Ivory mocked, he got up from his seat— imposing as Zero stared with a blank expression, “Big man but you still are the weakest.”

  “I am the strongest mortal. Every soul I killed lives inside me—memories stitched into my veins, their agony humming beneath my skin. I am the Savior.” Zero coldly spoke.

  Saraline, Dara and Psylaiso stared from the inside the Keep, refusing to step out into the outside— and encompass themself in such chaos. They gagged once they hear the beginning of the second sentence.

  “Absorbed the souls?” Psylaiso raised her eyes, she was creating another insignia on the wall she leaned on as Saraline shook her head.

  “No wonder he’s all quiet— the voices in his head, they were his victims.”

  “And now this bastard is deciding to use their shit for himself.” Dara scoffed as her gaze met the floor, the carpet glowed.

  Ivory spat out saliva, laughing before composing himself, “Why are they here anyway.”— his eyes turned back to Zero, “If you are bringing prostitutes around, I believe I’m allowed to fuck any I want.”

  Zero’s eyes were cold, “I always hated you but I’ll grant you the dignity of knowing where they are going before you die. They are going to meet with Medea due to wanting Ostra’s forces to kill Samiel.”

  “Before I die?” Ivory ignored the second sentence, “You are going to fight me?” His pupils dilated as his expression changed from annoyed— to barbarity. He began to itch his whole body rapidly with his fingernails, ash marks from the scrapes were visibly as his loincloth bolstered. “You can’t back out now! You said you’ll kill me so!” his eyes—

  Saraline attempted to grab onto her sheath but Zero shook his head— knowing her action before she even attempted.

  “He wants to die, just witness the power of the Savior.” Zero smiled, his eyes landing on the sadistic Nephilim.

  “I always wanted to kill all of Thidos’ family anyway.”

  “No. I don’t think this is worth it.” Ivory turned around, he folded his arms and began to walk away, “I won’t risk the Lord’s image for something so trivial.”

  Zero’s smile became genuine as he tilted his head, “So even someone like you understands.”

  Ivory walked forward into one of the branching hallways whilst Zero led the others to follow him.

  “I promise, this time— you’ll actually see the Lord.” His tone was fake but warming.

  Saraline was holding the others back still in the keep— she nodded her head before motioning the others to follow Zero, she falling behind next to Psylaiso.

  “You still laying those markings?” She whispered in the Slime’s ear— she nodded. “Good.” Saraline leaned in, kissed her on the cheek — a silent vow carved in flesh and glass, her soft blissful lips laid on the Slime’s cheek as she walked away— on her right hand was a crystallised ring— it glinted.

  Zero saw—not with eyes, but through divinity itself. He smiled. Memories of Samiel surfaced—before the carnage, before the chaos.

  For the first time since rebirth, Zero felt warmth.

  And it disgusted him.