A small brown but metallic box lay in the drawer, rectangular and cold to the touch, its surface etched with strange textures. On top, a yellowed slip of paper read: "Insert the disc here." With an arrow pointed to a slim slot.
"Disc?" Thomas frowned. After putting two and two together, he slid the metal plate inside.
A static hiss answered him.
Tssskkkkk… tssskkkkk…
"What the hell—?" Thomas leaned closer to get a better listen, frown still carved onto his face.
Then a voice, faint at first, then unmistakable.
Hello? Hello?
Thomas jolted back, falling to the floor, the frown was replaced by a stunned face within a second.
It was his grandmother's voice:
This is… a recording of my experience. Richard, Shelby... or maybe even Tommy, if you're listening, I hope you're doing just fine in life.
Thomas's heart thudded in his ears. Slowly, he leaned closer, understanding what the 'disc' really was.
I want you to know, first and foremost… I loved you all. Truly. You are my purpose in life. It is because of you that I found life beautiful. Even though, sometimes… I do miss the land without st—
Thomas slammed the 'STOP' button. Silence filled the room. His chest felt hollow. The insides of his face felt sour.
"You are my purpose in life." It was mostly this sentence's fault.
Those words echoed in his mind like a curse. He couldn't find his own purpose... not anymore. Everything around him was gone. He'd once thought he was alive to care for his grandmother. Now, that anchor was gone, too.
"Goddamn it," Thomas whispered, burying his face in his hands.
After a moment of silence knelt on the floor, Thomas peeked out of his palms. He stared at a wall, or, more precisely, the general direction of Alexander.
———
At Wilhelm's house, dinner was waiting hot on the table.
Thomas stepped into the dining room, stiff-backed. "Brought a guest."
Around the dinner table, Tyler and Philip stopped their chat over tea and turned to the man behind Thomas. Nicole came out of the kitchen with a plate of steaming meat, her gaze also went to the man behind Thomas. Wilhelm gulped down water awkwardly.
Alexander followed two paces behind. "Good evening." And caught everyone's curiosity immediately.
"Uh… who's this?" Philip asked.
"Yeah…?" Nicole added, glancing at Thomas while she set the plate down.
"Alex. Found him in the woods. He's hungry," Thomas said flatly, dropping into a seat.
"Shouldn't we tell Ijichi?" Nicole asked, brows furrowing.
"It's fine. Alex will work for us. It's extra hands, why not?" Thomas said almost casually.
"Tommy…" Tyler spoke up, his tone careful. "Are you sure?"
"Show them," Thomas said, nodding to Alexander.
Alexander drew the diamond sword, coloured refracted light rays sprayed everywhere.
A stunned silence. Then,
"OH MY GOD!" Nicole gasped.
Wilhelm choked on water.
Tyler's jaw dropped, too.
"That's insane," Philip muttered, eyes wide.
"He's a good hunter," Thomas said again, as if that explained or justified anything at all. Alexander sheathed the sword and stood awkwardly until Nicole gestured at an empty seat.
"Oh, please, sit down. There's plenty of deer left from yesterday."
After Alexander settled in, Nicole tried again. "So… where are you from?"
Thomas answered for him, "He doesn't know. Probably fell, hit his head, lost his memory. Read about that once, it happens."
"Oh."
An awkward hush fell over the table. Somewhere outside, a crow cawed.
Finally, Tyler broke the silence. "So… I'll be leaving for the election in New Angeles tomorrow. Anyone coming to vote?"
"Can I use the horse?" Wilhelm asked Nicole, eyes brimming with anticipation.
Nicole smirked, "Of course."
"YES!" Wilhelm grinned, clenching his fist gleefully.
"Just remember to be safe and stick with Tyler and his parents." Nicole added before sipping on tea.
"Of course I will, Mom." Wilhelm responded lazily.
"I'll take my dad's horse and go, too," Thomas said.
"I'll pass," Philip answered last. He then pointed his fork at Alexander. "But if you're going, Tommy, what about him?"
Thomas shrugged. "Mom had a horse, too. He knows how to ride, right?" He turned and pointed to Alexander.
"I do," Alexander said.
"Good. He's coming."
"Why?" Wilhelm asked, baffled.
"Because... what else would he do? I'm not leaving him here with your mom. He's my responsibility."
Philip laughed. "Hah! Look at you, finally taking responsibility for something."
Thomas didn't grimace.
Wilhelm nudged Tyler. "So it's the three of us going with you."
"I expect your full support," Tyler said with a smile.
"You know you'll get it. I'll always be behind you." Thomas also smiled.
———
The moon and stars shone brilliantly. Couple of kids went outside to admire the view even this late at night.
Back at Thomas's house, the door creaked open. He and Alexander stepped inside, both immediately glancing at the empty bed by the extinguished fireplace.
"You're not sleeping there," Thomas said quietly. He pointed to the corner. "You're sleeping on the chair."
Alexander didn't argue. "Alright."
Thomas doused the lamp and retreated to his room without another word. Alexander could sense something broken in him, but it wasn't his place to ask. So he settled into the hard wooden chair and closed his eyes.
———
In the darkness, Thomas tossed and turned. His face twisted in his sleep.
In his dream, heat pressed in from all sides. Flames roared around him. He was lying on burning ground, gasping for air.
There were people screaming in the distance.
"Tommy…" A distant cry called his name.
THUMP.
An arrow struck dirt, barely missing his head.
Or so he thought.
He sat bolt upright with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat. Moonlight poured through the window.
"Fuck…" He rubbed his forehead, trying to steady his breath.
He stumbled into the kitchen, pouring water down his throat in desperate gulps.
His eyes flicked to the front door.
It was unlocked.
"I swear I locked that," he muttered to himself.
A voice drifted from the shadows. "Something's not right, is it?"
"Alex?"
Alexander stood half-hidden behind the wall, sword already drawn, its diamond edge catching the moonlight.
Thomas felt it too, a wrongness in the air. Something was off. Items seemed out of place. There was a smell that shouldn't be there. Instinctively, Thomas grabbed his axe.
Creak.
It was his bedroom door.
He spun toward it, and the air split.
Whoosh.
A dagger flew at his head. He ducked, but the blade still sliced a shallow line across his cheek, blood slid down.
Inside his bedroom, a masked figure stepped forward. His dark green hood low, face veiled with a white mask, moving like a ghost in the gloom.
"WHO ARE YOU?!" Thomas roared, grabbing and swinging his axe.
The figure dodged, driving a fist into Thomas's gut.
"Oof—!" Thomas was knocked back.
The intruder drew a sword, its point flashing toward Thomas's throat.
CLANK!
But a diamond edge met it with a metallic screech.
Alexander's blade knocked the intruder's sword wide. The clash sent sparks dancing through the dark.
Thomas gasped for breath on the floor as Alexander stepped past him.
His strikes were sharp, brutal and most of all, precise. The masked man ducked and weaved, each dodge a heartbeat from certain death.
The missed strikes of Alexander's blades caused a lot of collateral damage.
A shelf toppled. Books scattered. The wall dented under a wild swing.
The masked man backpedaled toward the door, stumbling in panic.
Whoosh. THUMP.
Alexander's final swing split the front door in half, and carved off the masked man's right pinky.
A hiss of pain, then the figure lunged through the ruined doorway, vanishing into the night.
Alexander stopped on the threshold, chest barely heaving. One half of the door still clung to its hinges. The other lay in grass.
He caught a glimpse of what the masked man clutched as he fled.
A small metal disc.