The massive seals levitating far up in the sky hummed and shimmered just as they did every other day. Frid looked at them pensively, the same question he always asked when he saw them floating in his mind.
"It's really the same guy responsible for that, who also put these things on our backs?"
"Huh?" Pendrick looked at Frid and then followed his line of sight, laid eyes on the barrier seals that protected them from the Haze.
"Oh, that," Pendrick said plainly. "He didn't directly put the slave marks on us, but he did release them to the world."
"So, in a way, yeah, he did do this to us."
"I heard it was for money too..." Bach added.
Frid remained silent. Though it wasn't always the case, he was quite contemplative. He didn't think he was intelligent because of it. On the contrary, he believed it was because he wasn't too smart that he thought so much.
At the start, his life had been about survival, so it made sense that he wasn't afforded the time to become conventionally learned. When the rougher years had passed, he had finally been spared the time to think, but by then, he had seen no value in learning. It was only when he realised that the world didn't move solely by the will of strong men that he realised power didn't always manifest as physical strength.
He often pondered what power truly meant and what gave it that meaning. People said he was "powerful"—King of Combat, they called him— but that amounted to nothing in the face of people he should've been able to kill easily.
"We're almost there," Pendrick called out from the front.
The helmeted man raised his line of sight to take in what looked like any other average backstreet in Lukaria City. Any other time, and he would have been jovial, joking about what they were doing here, but his interaction with that woman had dredged up thoughts he usually worked hard to bury.
They walked past a group of inebriated men, eyes gleaming with a recklessness towards life. It was understandable. They had nothing to lose, and living wasn't doing them any good. A quick glance at the men was enough to perceive the blood dotted across different regions of their bodies. Whatever they have been up to, it wasn't a clean affair. For splatters like that, they had likely beaten someone bloody with blunt force.
'Would that have been me?' Frid thought, seeing a younger version of himself that could very well have been on the same path as them.
Heading deeper into the seedy area, they were quickly introduced to the exact result of the men's actions. A fresh corpse was laid unceremoniously against a wall, right beside heaps and mounds of trash. Frid could see Bach squirm, uncomfortable at the visual. Pendrick, meanwhile, seemed unbothered or, at the very least, hid his aversion very cleanly.
The way was cramped, and moving forward would require them to step over this person's remains. Pendrick and Bach did so, their pace not slowing in the slightest. Granted, Bach's eyes squinted into a tight close as he did. For the champion gladiator, though, it wasn't so easy. He paused, wrestling with his conscience. He stared at the man's bashed-in head. The image of Joel's still corpse superimposed onto the stranger. He closed his eyes to block it out, but in the black of his eyelids, he was assaulted with Orwell's twitching body, right after he had hit him.
"Frid," Bach called, confusion evident on his and Pendrick's faces. "What are you doing?"
His eyes snapped open, and he jumped a little as they did before offering a restrained laugh.
"Sorry, sorry," Frid said, attempting to be lighthearted. "I'm coming."
Hollow pink eyes shifted toward the stranger's body one last time. He walked over it, whispers playing in his ear as a face remained—unspeaking—in his vision as he approached his companions.
"You killed us."
"Why did you do it?"
"Murderer!"
The face's mouth finally opened, causing Frid to flinch.
"It hurts..." Krei's face contorted in agony as it had in his final moments.
The floodgates burst as the screams and cries of torment of all those that had met an end by his hand rang in Frid's ears. He reached into his pocket, feeling for something, his face twisting into a pained expression when he held the item he had been searching for.
Shaking his head, he tried his best to push it all aside and focus on the task at hand.
Frid let out a bitter scoff, recalling his earlier thoughts.
"Would that have been me?" he muttered sarcastically. "I'm no different."
They walked for a little longer, arriving in what could only be described as a ghost town. Pendrick wasn't nearly as naive as to believe that they were actually alone. He had been relaxed—aloof even—but the further they went, and the more the scenery got worse around them, the more cracks formed in the blond's mask of indifference. A trail of blood fell to his chin as he bit his lip to restrain the anger he felt standing in front of the ruins of a mansion.
"I'm picking something up from inside, and then we're leaving," Pendrick said, clearly not in the mood to make further conversation.
"Hey," Bach started, hesitating at first. "I couldn't recognise the area since it's changed so much, but isn't this—?"
"Leave it," Pendrick interrupted callously. "It's in and out. Got it."
He looked for confirmation from them, receiving a shaky nod from Bach and nothing from Frid, who was still lost in his own world. Pendrick had noticed the man's change in behaviour after his private talk with Minerva, but hadn't thought to question him about it, or at least not yet.
Ignoring it, he pushed open the rusted gate. Green eyes combing through what used to be vibrant gardens, he steeled himself to push all the unnecessary thoughts aside. Pendrick placed his hands on the massive doors to the house and pushed with all his might, struggling as they scraped unevenly against the weathered and cracked tiled floors.
"Frid." Bach turned towards the largest one of them three, seeking to get his assistance with the entrance, but the man stood dazed and unfocused. "Frid..."
Bach was starting to genuinely worry. It was as if no one was in their right mind after their meeting with the unearthly lady. He approached the pink-eyed man and shook him, snapping him back into reality.
"Huh?" Frid mumbled in surprise.
"Bach? You good?" He smiled, making yet another poor effort to cover his inner turmoil. "Did you need anything?"
The sheepish man was about to voice his concern, but Frid's attention was quickly stolen by the struggling Pendrick's grunts.
"Ah—hold that for a bit longer." He walked over to the door and, with one punch, blew it off its hinges.
Pendrick shot the larger man a dirty look before snapping out of it and slapping himself to get his head back together. He exhaled heavily for what he was sure was upward of the twentieth time today.
"From here—"
"I know," Frid interrupted, much sharper than he had been for a while. "You go in, I'll take care of them."
Pendrick nodded, turning to look at Bach, who understood what he was going to say before he even made to open his mouth.
"Just go..."
Pendrick paused in surprise.
"Can you read minds?"
"Obviously not," Bach responded despondently. "I just know better than to think you would let me be safe for once..."
Pendrick laughed genuinely for the first time that day. Without collecting himself, he broke into a sprint into the mansion and up the steps towards the upper quarters, his voice rang as he yelled back his response.
"What do you mean? You're in the safest place here."
Men and women, looking exactly how you'd expect someone hanging around places like this, skulked out from all sorts of corners. There were quite a few. Dozens maybe. Bach wasn't sure, but they were surrounded.
"Step back a little."
Despite being severely afraid, Bach looked at Frid like he was crazy.
"I'll help."
Frid shook his head, stretching and hopping on the balls of his feet in preparation.
"You've been using your trick—sorry—Gift this entire time. Rest easy, I can handle this much on my own."
The figures at the front of the crowd got into ready positions to run at them. For a moment, aside from a few mutterings of attempts at coordination and grunts of understanding, the place was silent. A chilling wind blew into the open entryway, creating a haunting wailing sound.
In the time that it took for the breeze to come and pass, Frid had appeared instantaneously in the midst of the band of delinquents. His fist crushed into a random man's stomach, sending him staggering backwards into his allies' arms. He followed it up with a powerful high kick on another who had caught his bearings and rushed in to intercept him. A woman came at him from his right, a crudely sharpened kitchen knife in hand. Not even turning toward her, he punched the side of her face, sending her to the ground.
That initial skirmish was enough for them understand that even taking a single blow from him was enough to put them down. Being mediocre at combat, they scattered, trying to avoid him and go around him, already forgetting that he had moved much faster than they could follow at the start.
Frid was quick to show them, however, that whatever they tried, he outclassed them enough to counter it. Pink eyes rapidly locked onto three people who appeared to be ringleaders. He jumped over the grunts that were in his way, soaring a few metres in the air and landing right on top of a skinny man right before he could make his attempt to run. Confirming that the man was unconscious, he turned to the rest, seeing that they were still unyielding in trying to break into the house.
He sighed, swivelling his head so that he could see more through the helmet.
"Damn it all," he muttered under his breath, launching at high speeds and crashing right into a group of five.
Quickly dispatching them, he started grabbing stones broken off from old statues and using them as projectiles. As it was, he was managing to thin the numbers at a steady pace.
Before he could fully relax in the rhythm he had built, more hooligans came pouring through the gate, through openings in the walls, or jumping over the fences.
"What even..." Frid stood, incredulously taking in what appeared to be hundreds of people all concentrated in this one area.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"
From behind, he heard Pendrick's voice as he returned, nothing of note having changed with him. The blond looked at him incredulously, probably wondering why he was struggling so much.
Pendrick looked around, catching sight of the unconscious people lying about all over and immediately grasped what was going on.
"Oi," he called out, furious. "I don't know and don't care what she told you, but this isn't the time for you to be out of it! Get yourself together, you fucking bastard!"
Frid turned his attention back to the overwhelming swarm of enemies he was faced with. Expression hardening, he threw a punch, much harder than the ones before, but froze just a few centimetres from his target. His outstretched arm trembled, his world becoming distorted as the visions of men he killed took the place of the crowd in front of him.
He clutched his chest, breathing heavily, snapping back in time to avoid the makeshift spear that almost plunged into his ribs. He avoided several other onslaughts, narrowly backtracking towards his two companions.
"...will never go away."
"Never."
'No...' he shook his head frantically, his vision blurring again.
"Ugh!"
The noise brought him back.
"Pendrick!"
Frid spun around to the sight of three people—a man and two women—standing over Pendrick, whose shoulder was stained crimson. Under the blond was Bach. He had covered him with his own body to protect him. Frid's chaotic mind whirred. It felt like screams tearing through his psyche, until finally all went quiet.
He made a decision.
Disappearing in that familiar burst of motion, he reappeared between his companions and the three who now essentially stood at the forefront of the flood of people. The man peered into the helmet, looking straight into the dead and hollow eyes that stared at him as if he didn't matter.
"Wai—"
His head exploded into fleshly matter and blood before he could beg for his life.
The helmet turned to face the woman who had been to the right of the man. An elderly woman, barely even able to stand, holding a gardening rake as her weapon of choice. Not giving his conscience time to weigh in, he similarly blew her head off her shoulders.
The last of the three that had attacked Pendrick and Bach fell onto her butt, scampering back in fear, her weapon forgotten on the floor. Frid glanced at it, seeing the blood trickle from the knife. His jaw clenched. The toe of his boot crushed into her chest, sending her rocketing back into the swarm.
Everyone else, noticing the change in the man's energy, quickly decided their task wasn't worth it. Each man took to his own way of escape, even trampling over each other to secure themselves.
"Pendrick... keep Bach's eyes covered until we leave."
The blond glanced up at him, the shock at the gruesome sight overriding the pain in his arm.
"Okay."
What unfolded after was the picture of unbridled violence. Frid would only let a handful escape. While Pendrick couldn't tell at first, when the helmet wearer eventually led them out of the sketchy neighbourhood through the trail of bodies, he could see it clear as day. Men. Women. Boys. Girls. All sorts of people of all ages had been part of that group. His memories lingered on the image of the smaller bodies, nausea building in his throat.
Pendrick looked at Frid, who walked in front of them, off-puttingly silent.
"Rick."
The blond jumped a little, admittedly a little more scared of their companion now.
"You can let Bach open his eyes now," Frid said, his voice strained. "He should probably use his power now, too. Especially because—you know."
Pendrick looked at the blood that painted the man from head to toe, nodding his head in understanding.
"Right," he said. "Bach, you're up. Try not to panic, okay."
Bach could already smell the sickening metallic scent of blood the entire time, but upon laying eyes on Frid, he couldn't help emptying his guts on the side of the back alley they had passed through earlier.
"Sorry."
The sheep-haired man waved him off, trying as hard as he could to compose himself.
"You did it to protect us," Bach reassured him. "It's okay."
They walked off back toward the estate, each ready to put the day behind them already. The crowded evening streets would've been hard to manoeuvre through if not for Bach's Gift. The citizens buzzed, filled with such life that now felt foreign to the trio.
Matching each other's stride, Pendrick and Bach stopped upon noticing Frid had fallen behind. He stared off to his left, his body tense. Pendrick noted that it didn't seem like fear, at least not entirely. Suddenly, he speedily walked back to them.
"Sorry about that..." his voice sounded shaky, as if he was fighting back tears.
"Are you okay?" Bach asked, just then remembering the man's demeanour the whole day. "You've been zoning out a lot..."
Frid laughed. "I'm fine, little buddy!"
He smacked Bach's back playfully, still somewhat hurting him due to his absurd strength.
"Frid! I've told you, you can't do that!" Bach exclaimed in exasperation. "You're not like normal people!"
The helmeted man simply kept laughing, prompting Bach to storm off, mumbling about how he was silly for worrying.
Pendrick approached him steadily.
"So," he started dryly. "How are you actually holding up?"
Frid slumped, his laughter trailing off.
"...I'll be fine," he said. "Hey, Rick."
"Yeah?" The blond looked at the shimmering barrier seals with the Frid, the sun setting beyond them.
"If you have my strength at your disposal—no, with our efforts combined, we'll actually be powerful enough to change our lives, right?"
Pendrick turned to face the man head-on, meeting his eyes.
"Yes," he replied with certainty. "Yes, we will."
Frid nodded, walking ahead of him toward Bach.
---
"Do you want me to tell you your future?"
"What?" Frid asked incredulously. "Are you Gifted? That's your thing?"
Minerva chuckled. "No, not Gifted."
"In this world, there are a multitude of amazing powers," she explained. "Seers are special people who can look at things others can't. The future is usually a common thing we can all peer into, but that's neither here nor there right now."
While Frid didn't understand the full picture, he could still somewhat grasp what she had said.
"You're outsourcing your moral compass."
"What?"
Frid looked at her like she was crazy. That had come from nowhere, but he failed to pretend that he didn't understand what she was saying.
"Your earliest years were spent in the depths of conflict," Minerva said, voice still airy but picking up a twisted edge. "The seed for it to become your nature was planted then."
Frid stood to shut the rest of this conversation down and leave, only to be thrust back into his chair by Helis.
'He's stronger than me?!'
"Calm down now, dear Frid."
The white-haired woman came into his personal space, leaning into his face.
"I just want you to do something for me," she explained, gently pushing against him and whispering in his ear. "Abandon the pretence and live in the truth of who you are."
"You're haunted by those you've killed, but that's only because she makes you care." She was borderline straddling him at this point. He moved to push her off, but Helis held him by his arms, squeezing painfully.
"The blood on your hands will never go away," she spoke into his ear through the helmet. "Never."
"The sooner you stop caring, the sooner you can help me with my goal."
"And what is that exactly?" Frid spat out, tone venomous. Helis squeezed tighter, eliciting a wince.
Minerva leaned back, still very much on his lap. Her facial expression went plain before she started laughing crazily in his face.
She gripped his helmet, looking him in his eyes and spoke. What came from her mouth widened Frid's eyes. Pooling all the strength he could muster, he freed himself from the two, putting significant distance between himself and them.
Helis helped Minerva off the ground, even dusting her off almost mindlessly.
"Don't worry," she said playfully. "No matter what you do, it will all play out the same, so in truth, I should thank you in advance."
"You're insane."
"Perhaps," she said flippantly. "My offer still stands. I can tell you about your future."
Frid faltered. He honestly wanted nothing to do with this woman any longer. He even contemplated telling Pendrick to scrap their deal, but a face flashed in his mind, and his concern superseded his apprehension.
His eyes closed, and when they opened again, he looked frustratingly at the smiling woman. Finally, he opened his mouth to give his response.