"Cough! Cough!" Lucien's body was shaking profusely; he was coughing blood and, as if being overcome, had to be held down by Logan and Armand, who rushed over. Meanwhile, Hector's body let out a strange black ooze with a foul smell and, as if alive or something moving within, slowly seeped around, an eerie sound echoing from it. To the others, this phenomenon seemed strange, almost demonic, but to Valeri, he knew just what it was and was the quickest to act. "Quickly, move away from them! Lucien may survive, but if that ooze touches either of you, you'll die!" Armand reacted the quickest, shifting himself away from the ooze, moving to the other side of Lucien's body. Luckily for both of them, he was the closest, as Logan's reluctance to leave his duty forced him to hesitate before a loud shout from Valeri snapped him back into reality.
Meanwhile, back in the Mental space, Hector was finding it hard to understand what he had just witnessed. The strange language shook the mental space so rigidly he could feel it in his soul, as if it were mourning and weighed down by a mysterious force, and even though it ended, Hector could still feel the weight of it, hard to shake off, leaving him in an eerie mist that he couldn't understand. Lucien, on the other hand, seemed faint, as if his soul were fading. As he reached down to grab Faust, he spoke in the strange language again, this time in whispers, and the minuscule spirit of Faust faded. At the same time, Hector felt something weigh down on his shoulders. The sudden shift caused him to stumble, and at the same time, the mental space shook. He had gotten his mental space back, but how? Almost as if a miracle had just occurred, he had quite literally had a demon cast out of him, and he witnessed it all, and potentially might have been brought back to life. But as always, before he could ask, Lucien began explaining.
"Before you ask, no, you were not dead, and no, I did not bring you back to life. What happened to you is known as spirit bondage, where a spirit of stronger spiritual prowess attempts to completely take over a weaker spirit's physical body. Most people know this as 'soul transfer,' but to us, it is a common way demons take over the souls of those who sell their souls to them, although it takes longer. What happened to you was, you went through the gruesome pain many endure over time all at once when you forced the dragon assimilation and tried to keep up with me." Hector had heard about soul transfer back when he was training as a knight a few months ago; he had heard of exorcisms and identifying victims of possession and, in severe cases, soul transfer. Demons had begun to roam, and he was almost a victim to one of the strongest demons if it claimed to have the power of the 72.
"But how did you save me? Even if you have a stronger soul, this demon compares itself to the 72, and what was that strange language you spoke?" Lucien took a deep sigh, visibly weakened and finding it hard to move; he gently walked to the chained souls of the condemned dragon warriors. "Long ago, before the earth that we know knew its form, when Hell was rebuked from heaven, the angels spoke a language, devoid of the master's tongue, aimed to rebuke those who had refused his words, known as 'the tongue of the root' of the Aether. It has no power of its own except the weight of curses that no mere mortal's spirit can bear to speak. A tongue made solely to curse the angels who kept to the master and the ones who chose to fall." Everything sounded like gibberish. "An ancient tongue that held no power but can't be spoken? What does that even mean?" The heaviness and the soul-screeching burn he felt from every word and every intonation did not seem like a powerless tongue like "Kurdish" or "Efik"; it burned his soul, literally. Now that he had full control over his mental state, he could feel everything, the burns that seemed unquenchable and the pain from the mere conversation. "If mere mortals can't speak it, how can you?" Hector asked, more curious in his suspicion than cautious.
"I can't. I have an angel in me that speaks for me."
"???" Huh? Dumbfounded was more than how to describe Hector. He knew the rules of this world, unlike Valeri; most things did not surprise him. He knew just what angels were and how they confirmed the existence of the one true God; the purpose of everything they witnessed, however, was a truth he had yet to uncover. But an angel? The strongest beings above the deity realm? Born from divinity to serve humanity and God as guardians against the fallen ones? Beings so powerful that even the removed can level the world from bottom to top in a single day without breaking a sweat, unsupervised? And Lucien has just confessed to having one within him. Guardian angels were put in charge over humans but more so as observers and a last ditch of defense against the accursed ones; they did not live within us but around us as protectors from the ones they once called comrades. No one could ever directly command an angel, especially not in the caliber Lucien claims to have commanded his, so the concept of his guardian angel living "inside" him was very far-fetched.
"The angel is not my guardian angel. In fact, I am his guardian." At this point, he didn't even want to know; he realized Lucien was drained and could pass out at any moment. And knowing that there's a concept specifically against spirits ever getting tired, he knew that wasn't a good thing, more so outside its body. "Don't worry about me; even if I pass out, he'll carry me back to my body. I just need to rest." Nothing made sense, but has anything ever with the eccentric Lord of Carnage? "I'll begin the procedure to make everything right, and since you will forget everything afterwards, I don't mind telling you," Lucien said, his voice growing softer and now like echoes.
"Wait, what?" What did he mean, "he'll forget everything"? But it was too late; the same light that shone around him before shone again, as it covered Lucien's body. "The angel within me used to be close to the Father; however, he began to question the reality of the world in softer tones than those who were banished, and thus, God chose someone to show him the true reality of the world, both ours and the one we currently stand on." For even the angels are sometimes unaware of the works of the Father. His voice had gone back to that echo, but unlike when he spoke to the demon in that foul language, it was softer, kinder; it felt as heavy but not as treacherous. "It is a demon; it haunts, it steals, and it destroys. And like these souls, yours was next. It wanted to consume you, your very being, to its oblivion, so that you may no longer exist as what you are but as its source of food in this world, a stamp that it fakes to stay longer, and that is what I saved you from. The spirit of Arban was possessed by the spirit of Faust, therefore all those who gained the power of the dragon warrior were possessed. However, the soul transfer had failed because they possessed what all high humans possessed: one soul pattern that stays in the way it is formed from birth till death. But in his desperation, he had hoped and searched that somehow he would be able to possess them, failing generation after generation until it got to you. The first low human to possess its power."
Hector held many questions, but one about the recorded history of the human warriors and the destruction of the dragon clan made him wonder. "In the recorded history, there was a huge gap unaccounted for; what does it mean? And in the Wind Dragon clan's erasure, what was the Wind Dragon's response to it?" Hector felt compelled to ask, and in a strange way, he felt an external push for that second question, as if a whisper. It was the seed of Naran; Hector could feel its pulse calling for him and calling for the justice of his clan.
"The Yore Cleanse—" But as Lucien said those words, a sharp headache overcame him. Something was preventing him from explaining it, even though he knew what it was. After regaining himself, he moved forward, proceeding with his preparations. "As for your second question, I have no answer to that, but I believe they would." He pointed his finger behind him, behind even Hector, who faced him. There was the face of a dragon-like woman projected in the space beyond them, covering what lay behind.
"The Wind Dragon," Hector whispered under his breath. Naran vibrated in his shell vigorously, as if he wanted to bare his fangs out towards the dragon, but Hector knew in all the rigor lay fear, fear that even made his skin crawl. Dragons were apex. They represented power like the deities did and were the only anomalies present in every realm. The Wind Dragon was powerful, perhaps even more powerful than current Lucien at full strength; should the dragon attack, none of them may be left alive, perhaps even those outside. "Don't worry, it can't come in. Faust took over her role as overseer and battery for the dragon warrior power, and now with him gone, the window is only half open, or should I say the curtain is open and the window is still closed shut. As long as I am here, it can't force itself in. But this is where you come into play. Because Faust was the battery behind this power, it's become corrupted, meaning everything that the power currently is is dependent on the demon. So you either choose to forfeit all it has accumulated all these eons and start afresh as a vessel of Naran and the true Wind Dragon warrior, or you accept Faust and continue using the power as it is, removed from the Wind Dragon's control, stronger than ever, but under the constant temptation and suppression of Faust. He may be weak now, but the more you use the power, the stronger he'll eventually become, and if you don't kill the Wind Dragon in time, you'll be taken over by him entirely."
Hector was in a strong dilemma. It was bondage on either side: either have his freedom and power and be occasionally tempted as long as Faust remained suppressed, which he could control, or go back to the oppressive hand of the Wind Dragon, starting from scratch and having to grow strong enough to be at the level that took eons to reach. What would he do? Naran's resistance to the dragon made his chances with the demon look more and more tantalizing, but his conviction put him against it. But so what? After all, if he defeated the dragon in time, he could just get delivered before the transfer happened, and then he could be free. He still had time; he knew he was strong. He went neck-and-neck with Lucien, one of the strongest in their existence, and now had full control. Maybe if he tried his hardest, he could surpass Lucien and win. He did know that everything during that battle felt forced for him and he held more power; he could've won if he tried harder, just slightly harder, and he would've turned the tables. It's that demonic sword Lucien has; if he didn't have it, he could've won. He knows he could've won.
Subconsciously, Hector began to walk towards a corner. As he walked, his mental state started morphing into a crossroad-like space, one side leading to a darker path and the other towards the holographic face of the dragon. And Hector, in his thought, walked towards the demonic path. However, just before he passed the crossroads, his mind stopped. It was the sound of laughter at the back of his mind; it was the Wind Dragon. Suddenly, she could be heard, but why? This distraction made Hector realize what he was about to do. Consciously now, he stepped back a huge leap, gritted his teeth, and ran towards the dragon's now-stunned face, faster and more determined than when he headed down the other path, getting as close as he could so he could give her an aggressive middle finger. He did not know how long it would take, but if even his enemy laughed at the path he was about to take, he knew he was taking the wrong one.
The shock on the Wind Dragon's face made everything even better for him, but that joy was short-lived as the dragon's annoyed face slowly turned into a smirk. "So you have chosen me. In doing so, your life is now in my palm, and I could kill you this very instant, erasing the mistake that has haunted me all these millennia." The voice of the dragon was deep and male-centered, with a sharp slur in its words that sounded obnoxious and demeaning. The holographic figure suddenly began to morph after its sentence stopped, forming in wind patterns in front of him, as if stretching itself out towards Hector. "But I want to see how you turn out to be, my beautiful boy." The cold, now humanoid hands of the beast caressed his cheek; the voice of the dragon now cold with a unique softness of a woman's voice, calming, soothing, as if a breath of fresh air. But that air would soon be the cause of shock for Hector…
"Heloisa?" His voice was low, but the words trembled the space, crumbling it upon itself. He tried to deny it, but the formed face of clustered wind in front of him and the hand upon his cheek was much too similar to his sister's. His sweet, lovable sister that he thought he had lost, here, in front of him. Unfortunately, as if planned by the dragon, a piece of the collapsed space fell upon the area where the wind figure was, diffusing it away, followed by the sound of an eerie laughter that dispersed as quickly as it came. Was his sister alive? What was happening to him? Did the Wind Dragon have his sister under control? But that can't be the case for dragon assimilations; at least he had recently met the Lord of Weaponry, and his personality remained the same as when he had coincidentally met him in the real world. Or is that a ruse? Either way, he now had his conviction to find and defeat the Wind Dragon.
As his resolve formed, so did the mental space; the collapse faded, and so Lucien's spirit stopped glowing. It was fainter than before, and now he could not even stand; he just lay there. Hector quickly rushed to his side to support him. "Go to Naran. Choosing the dragon has made you eligible to assimilate with Naran, bestowing upon you the dragonkin's body. But because your original body and mind have been eaten away by Faust, you will be undergoing a very drastic makeover. It may not be the best, but it is the only way that you can survive and possibly win against the Wind Dragon." Putting him down gently, Hector headed towards Naran. The child lay lifeless, the incubator broken, but its body glowed the color of the Wind Dragon's power. Reaching for it, it consumed his entire body, turning everywhere a bright green, and then gold, and then back to green. After a few moments, the sensation ended; he felt anew, less human and different, but the adjustment felt like he had become the wind now. A strange phenomenon, and what's even better, "Hello, Hector," the voice of Naran was now within his conscience as a separate being.