Chapter 42– Garden of Sin / Unfair.
“It was hell.”
“A curse was embedded onto my soul, I was forced to commit these crimes.”
“And what crimes were you forced to commit?”
A brief pause was documented.
“Things no human should go through— they forced me to do it. The conditions of my curse were if I were to not commit these acts against humanity, I would be subjected to eternal punishment.”
“Why did they make you do this?”
“To begin experimentation.. with the process of demonic transformations.”
Aurelian closed the book. His physical state worsening through each letter being read. His eyes low, his curls once defined and well kept, now messy and frizzed. His skin clear now had obvious signs of distress. His hands shook— not from fear or disgust, out of anger. His pupils couldn’t be still. He threw his arm to the ground.
“AAAHHH!” Aurelian screamed with all his might. He was so unbelievably pissed. The book he held in his hand flew across the room when he flailed his arm. His face turned red.
“Damn it..! Damn it!” He slowly leaned on the bookshelf as he squatted onto the ground.
Veins pulsated through his forearms as his held his face with his hands.
Tears began flowing.
Aurelian wasn’t just angry— he was enraged.
A fire kept so dormant within him, it took his soul ablaze.
The once righteous and abiding man he was had vanished. What he was now was something much more sinister and dangerous.
A man with ambition, motive, and most terrifyingly— with a vengeance. An aim to gain retribution for all
*It’s not fair. It’s not fair that people are taken from their homes, families, spaces of comfort and subject to these horrible things. It’s not okay. They take people, force them into these sins in order to experiment with the world of Hell. There’s something going on, it’s much bigger than Laveton. It’s bigger than anything..*
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Aurelian stood up, he dusted off his pants and grabbed a book off the shelf.
His teeth grew sharper as his eyes illuminated an ember.
“The only thing I can do right now, is fix this world myself..!”
…
“Who the hell is he..?”
“He’s so tall, is he Archaian?”
“New recruit or some shit? What’s his name?”
A chatter of voices could be heard, discussing the fact that a man who looked like he time travelled from prehistoric times was roaming the Military Headquarters hallways, on top of walking with the Major General. His eyes were filled with void, not a single thought behind those eyes, it was pure instinct. His skin was surprisingly clear, the only thing that was focused on was that hideous scar.
“It doesn’t matter to me, they can talk all they want.” Heraclius’ tall figure walked up the stairs, headed to the thirtieth floor.
“How did you get this way, the last we’ve seen of you—“ Julius’ words were stopped by Heraclius’ dominant tone.
“I was 5’7, 18 years old, timid and innocent. I’m now 22, 7’1, and nothing in this world will give me a single ounce of reaction. I have once lived— therefore, I am no longer pleasured by the experience of life.” Heraclius walked across the hallway in front of the Lord Emperor’s ‘office’.
Julius walked inside of the room, presented by the Lord Emperor, his face covered by a cloak and a shadow. Romulus, whom is finally wearing his mandated uniform. Remus, sitting on a sofa. Jasmine Urame, Vinast Bere, Hughman Janaden.
“Welcome, Heraclius— to my Garden of Sin.” Lord Emperor smiled.
…
Lloyd and Falcon stood atop of a tower.
“You ever been to North Laveton?” Lloyd broke the silence between the two. It was only midnight, they had some time to kill.
“Nope, not interested honestly. Heard it was a jungle you could barely go through, and hell of a lot of diseases, especially by the innocent looking vegetation.” Falcon cracked his fingers one by one.
“Yeah, me too. I’ve always wanted to go check out the south, and now I’m finally here. Pretty underwhelming but it’s still cool. It’s not fair that Imaez and the rest get to go talk to the underground Archaians.” Lloyd yawned as he looked up at the sky.
In an underground city, life was abundant. The Archaians— believed to be wiped out through centuries of war thrived underground, a fragment of their once vibrant and thriving community above land, but they push forward. Said to be on average 7 feet tall, embedded with history and strength, a deep passion for the arts and culture. The modern Archaians were just around 6 feet tall; with the same ideals as before. A small difference.
Imaez and the female Deathslingers sat inside of a ‘office’ of sorts. Looking outside of a glass window, they observed the life of the Archaians. Soul Pacts used to make their lives easier, construction workers using the energy from the soul to amplify physical attributes, making it easier to build. Tailors and cloth-makers using amplified body speed to make clothing. A complete opposite of what Laveton was. Fascinating, truly.
A man, his beard touching his chest and of great size had walked into this ‘office.’
“What could I do for you?” He said stroking his beard.
“I’ll like to cut you a deal.” Imaez grinned. “We, the Deathslingers, enemy of the Imperial Empire that controls the continent will restore Archaia, in exchange.. you rise up.”
Marie and Naomi leaned back into the couches.
“How can I trust you?” The Archaian representative said.
“I’m the Reaper.” Imaez went forward. “I’ll kill every single one of the nobles who oppose your salvation. The die is cast, my beloved Archaian.”
The representative thought for a moment— giving it deep consideration.
“We will get back to you tomorrow.” He sighed.
A disturbance was felt.
BWOOOOSH! A large impact from above ground.
Falcon flew into sandstone pillars, using a sword of light to slow down his movement.
“Can’t let you guys disrupt His plans..” A man walked through dust.
It was General Yumin! He attacked Falcon and Lloyd as they were inattentive to his presence.
“I am the blessed soul— the only person in the world to achieve a Double Pacted Soul.” Yumin smiled manically. “I show you— Nightmare and Reality.”
Yumin clasped his hands together and spoke in ancient Velarune dialect.
“Bring forth the nightmares, and cast them into our realm of existence.”
“Bring forth— fear, and the underlying reality of what despair is.”
A veil was casted.
