Paryl was woken up from his bout of unconsciousness in a measly hour. His head hurt, but he didn't want to cry; he was brave. He looked around, praying that it was all a dream. Unfortunately, the dark blood stains that were being cleaned by staff said differently.
'I am brave, I am brave, I am brave, I am brave...'
He kept repeating that to himself, praying his tears wouldn't spill out. It was all too vivid to him. A human couldn't remember pain, but they could remember being in pain. The unmovable hands crushing his windpipe, the weight of a limp, beheaded corpse on him, the sheer fear he felt in those moments, the terror of helplessness. But all that was nothing compared to the thing that was the biggest cause of the sense of despair looming over him.
It was the thoughts he had in that moment. The urge to rip apart Elizabeth's soft flesh with his bare hands. Payton didn't realize it, but he was shaking. His vision was cloudy; he desperately held back tears, but they spilled anyways. Nobody came to comfort him. Nobody cared. The staff cleaned the blood. Dr. Maria watched him from the doorway. The mana conjured ice, an evolution of water magic, was long broken and laid in trash cans in the hallways.
He cried, hating himself for it. He tried to hold his breath to stop a sob multiple times; it didn't work. Only made his lungs burn harder, forcing him to cough up more bile.
He wanted Mr. Ethan. He wanted the kind man to hug him. He wanted Mr. Bear. He wanted to cry into it and hide his shame.
He tried to reach towards one of the cleaning ladies, looking for some sort of familiar warmth, but his small hand was swatted away easily. The back of his palm stung. He started crying harder.
He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
These thoughts were interrupted when a black-haired elf offered the young man a handkerchief.
Paryl took a couple of minutes to compose himself. The elf waited next to him, his hand on the child's shoulders.
"Are you okay, buddy? I went to the toilet, and Elizabeth sprinted in, blocking off the path. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so careless."
Paryl shook his head, hiccuping from the earlier tears.
"It's okay, Mr. Arthur. I know you did your best. But...why did she attack me? I never did anything to her!"
Arthur shot a glance at Dr. Maria, who answered him with a nod. The whole situation was a clusterfuck, but the overseers decided to declassify the 'incident.'
"You know that mana imprint on your back, kiddo?"
Paryl responded with a shaky nod, saying,
"Yeah...?"
"I don't know the specifics, y'see, but it allows you to access something like a bloodline transformation. It's an attempt to mimic the dragons."
The boy seemed confused.
"The what?"
"Y'know, the dragons! Human-like things that could transform into big strong creatures! The extinct ones!"
The boy's face lit up with unasked questions.
"Seriously?"
Arthur sighed.
"Dragons lived up north in a small valley, then one day, like seven hundred years back, they just disappeared, and the whole land was reduced to a flat wasteland. No one knows what happened."
"Oh, that's sad..."
"Very sad indeed. Anyways, their bloodline ability—you know what a bloodline ability is, right?"
Paryl sensed that Arthur was one of those people that would explain even if you said you knew, so he beat him to it.
"An ability that all the members of a race have."
"Look at you, you educated youngin! So, their bloodline ability was transformation, kind of like the beast folk. Except instead of transforming into human-animal hybrids, they transformed into monstrous lizards with giant wings, horns, and tails! Well, I guess lizards already have tails...so it was redundant—whatever! You get the picture!"
Arthur purposefully put on a goofy act, making wild arm movements with the story. He wanted the kid to be in a happier mood for what came next.
Paryl looked at the man for a few seconds. Then asked:
"So what do the giant lizards have to do with me?"
"That imprint is supposed to act like a...copy of the bloodline ability. However, you don't seem conscious of using it. The day it was given to you, it activated, and you… well, rampaged."
His voice suddenly became very somber.
"Some people got caught in the crossfire, including Elizabeth's sister. Liz insisted she was fine, that she knew it wasn't your fault.
We have a tight limit on what personnel we can take due to the government regulations on magic users. She also had the ability to use ice, which could have put a stop to your rampages, as it's unaffected by mana. So she got placed in the team. It seems she couldn't bear the sight of you. I'm sorry, kid."
Paryl's world spun...he rampaged? What was he talking about? That made no sense; he didn't remember any of that!
There was one burning question in his mind. He needed to know only one thing.
"Did I kill anyone?"
Arthur looked at the kid somberly, then turned his attention towards the blood stains that were almost fully cleaned. He seemed deep in thought.
"9 people."
Paryl's eyes widened, his hands shaking.
"What?"
"It wasn't your fault, kid."
He gripped the boy's shoulder tightly.
"It wasn't your fault."
"Paryl didn't know what to think. He felt strangely apathetic. He didn't remember the scenes of the rampage; he hadn't even seen any of the aftermath. One question surged to his lips.
"Did I kill Mr. Ethan?"
"You didn't."
Paryl wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but he wasn't sure if he should. Did it matter if he killed Ethan or not? He killed a different person in his place.
Arthur's eyes pricked with tears. The boy didn't deserve to go through this. No one did. He hated the facility and despised every single one of those damn researchers. He yearned to leave so terribly bad, but he would be silenced. He turned his attention back to the kid, who was staring at the ceiling silently. His gaze wasn't on it.
"Wanna see magic, kid?"
The question snapped Paryl out of his thoughts. He hadn't heard that right, had he?
"Huh?"
"Kid, I may not look like it, but I'm a professional. I can show you things no one else can."
Arthur needed the boy to say yes. He wanted to get the 'incident' off his thoughts this instant. He couldn't bear to see a child in agony any longer.
"Y…yeah? Sure."
Paryl answered. He was completely shook by the elf's previous words, but he didn't want to think about it. He was a brave boy, and he wouldn't let something he wasn't at fault for get him down.
"Okay, first...ta-da!"
He summoned a cursed weapon seemingly out of nowhere. He knew that it was a CW because a researcher did experiments on him with one. They were items that were created when a person died holding them and had a dying wish, which they would reflect in their ability. When it touched the skin of a different person, it would 'bind' to them, allowing wielders to summon the CW whenever just from their mana reserve.
"Cool! What's its ability?"
"It allows me to channel elemental magic through the blade. Wanna see?"
"Yeah!"
Arthur was a versatile fighter. He could use 3/4 of the basic elemental magic types and even an evolution of air, thunder. It's a shame he didn't have much talent aside from that, making him mediocre. He truly was perfect for a covert research facility. He was stuck in this hellhole.
"Okay…"
The sword's edge lit up with fire.
"This is fire. It's born out of anger, rage."
The blade cut down in quick, short bursts. Paryl didn't know anything about fencing, but if he did, he would've realized what he was seeing was an incredibly aggressive style.
The sword suddenly started flowing smoothly through the air, like a mountain river. The edge was surrounded with water.
"This is water. It's born out of fluidity, calmness."
The style changed once more. Wind adorned his blade. This time it was an unorthodox style. Arthur never put his entire weight into the strikes, making them weaker but giving them added maneuverability. It was like a strike could come out of anywhere.
"This is air. It's born out of yearning for freedom."
Arthur's face hardened. He executed one rapid stab forward. The sword flashed with blue light.
"And that's the evolution to air, Thunder. It's born out of precision, out of a lack of mercy. It has to have intent behind it, and the attack has to be perfect."
Paryl stood up, clapping.
"Wow! That's so cool, Mr. Arthur!"
Arthur exaggeratedly bowed towards him, dismissing his CW.
"Thank you, thank you. You're too kind."
"Can I ask how you went through that ice block yesterday? You said ice is unaffected by mana."
Arthur grinned comically.
"It's my personal ability! I can ignore space. And as I wasn't affecting the ice but the space it resided in, I managed to get through."
"That's so cool, Mr. Arthur!"
The blood was finally cleaned, and Arthur was ordered to leave. Dr. Maria came in, looking like she was about to have a panic attack. All her thoughts were that she will end up like Ethan because of last night's incident.
"DS-28, you are forbidden to leave your room from now until I say otherwise. Am I clear?"
Paryl believed he was guilty for last night's events. He wanted to crawl into a hole from the shame.
"Yes, Ms. Maria."
Maria left the room as fast as she got into it.
Paryl was bored. So bored. He tried to strike up a conversation with Mr. Arthur, but he was promptly informed that he was forbidden from conversing with DS-28. They even took Mr. Broom!
He had only had his thoughts in the following days, and all he could think about was his supposed rampage. He could only see 9 corpses laid in front of him. He didn't have an appetite.
Whenever someone came into his room, either to give him a meal he would end up not eating or to do tests, he felt fine. His mind wasn't on the events. He could even talk with them normally. But the moment he was alone, his world crumbled.
His stomach ached from the hunger, but whatever he ate, he just puked back up. He lay in bed, but he couldn't sleep.
He was scared someone would attack him again. Every shadow made him flinch. He felt so small. The white cell felt small. It was like a tiny prison. He felt trapped. He jumped back in fear when a light made one of the guard's shadows large.
He kept repeating to himself:
'I'm brave, I'm brave, I'm brave, I'm brave, I'm brave...'
His back burned. Every other time it felt like a warm, pleasant feeling. This time, he wanted to scream from the agony. But he didn't. He was afraid. What if the guards found him a risk that's too large? What if they...he didn't want to think about it.
It burned. It burned so bad. Every inch of his back was on fire. It spread slowly. He allowed it to spread.
It reached his head. By the time the guards reacted, it was too late. The creature was awake.
This time Paryl was conscious with it. He was like a passenger inside his own body.
The guards attacked him. Every one of them except Arthur had a restraining personal ability. A dwarf tied him in manifested chains, an older woman conjured nails to pin the dragon's legs into the ground, and a silent man was preparing to launch his own ability. It didn't matter.
Fire started erupting from the creature's mouth. The silent man created a barrier out of earth. The fire bombarded it, melting its outer edge.
Paryl wanted to be free; he needed to be free. He wanted to destroy the chains; he needed to destroy anything that prevented him from leaving. The fire slowly started shining with an azure radiance. The chains rapidly burned beneath the cascading waves of flame, the nails holding him down melting as if they were wax. The monster was using Inferno.
Arthur activated his ability to ignore a meter of space, dodging the column of manifested will to destroy. The wall disappeared in an instant. His teammates burned to cinders. Not even charred bodies remained; they were reduced to nothingness.
The creature suddenly turned towards the survivor.
Paryl didn't want to harm the man, who was shaking. He tried to force his body to leave his room, but he couldn't. It seemed only his truest and clearest desires and impulses were carried to the creature. His only impulse in that moment was a yearning for destruction.
Arthur was scared. His teammates excelled at defensive magic, but even so nothing was left of them but black smoke. He wanted to run so bad, but he couldn't do anything. Arthur was fully paralyzed. The giant maw of the dragon opened, smoke billowing from it like a pillar. Arthur's legs gave out.
'Stop! Stop! Stop!'
Paryl knew what the creature would do next. It was ready to tear Arthur to bits. He only shared his base impulse to destroy with the creature. If he could cry, he'd cry. He didn't want Arthur to die!
Arthur was praying. He wasn't a believer, so he didn't know how to do it. He just begged whatever was out there to save him.
Inferno built up in the depths of the creature's maws, the azure luminescence contrasting with the red electricity the creature was made of.
The creature's jaws opened, looking at Arthur. He closed his eyes, tears spilling out of their edges. Then, something completely unforeseeable happened.
The beast suddenly looked up at the ceiling. Sapphire flames spewed from its jaws, eating away at the mana-fortified ceiling. Paryl had continuously repeated,
'I will destroy the ceiling, I will destroy the ceiling...'
The dragon reacted accordingly. A hole 7 meters wide was made. The dragon lost curiosity in the pitiful elf and flew into the night sky. Arthur collapsed.
The moonlight shined brightly as he ascended into the clouds, the cool wind assaulting his senses.
Paryl was free. It was beautiful. He looked down. A populated town to the east seemed like an anthill. He wanted to laugh. The creature descended into the forest, the scarlet light turning into dark markings on the boy's back. He turned himself towards the facility. Paryl imagined a cloud of ash, the only remainder of the three dead guards.
Then he looked at the beautiful woodland he found himself in. He took a deep breath of the fresh air. The facility's air was suffocating, but this made him feel free as a bird.
Paryl knew his freedom used graves as stepping stones. He couldn't bring himself to care. A wide smile found its way onto his face.
He was happy.
Looking at the dark night, which seemed like a painting by the most skilled artist, he had only a singular thought he wished to express.
"I'm a coward."