Neil blinked his eyes to find himself seated in a ruined cathedral. The cathedral looked exactly like the Grand Cathedral, only in a ruined state.
On the bench in front of him, two people were holding a conversation. It was Sister Elowen and a man in a tattered gray cloak, his face hidden underneath the hood.
The people did not seem to notice him, which really indicated that this was indeed a memory. Although memories were usually of things that had happened, this one was a bit different.
He leaned closer, listening to the conversation between the two.
"What can we do?" the sister asked.
The man shrugged.
"Go into hiding, I guess."
Neil's eyes widened. The voice from the cloaked man was his—but it sounded tired. He wondered what had happened to him. Deciding to be a silent spectator, he kept his thoughts in check and listened.
"What about you?" the sister asked again. This time, the cloaked man turned to her, and their eyes locked.
"What about me? Don't tell me you are worried about me, Elowen?" the man responded with a chuckle.
Sister Elowen did nothing to hide her irritation, but then her expression changed to a soft one—a worried one.
"I'm worried that your thirst for revenge will swallow you up," she responded after a moment.
The man's hand moved to the hood of his cloak. He removed it, revealing a roughed-up Neil. He had a black eye and a cut on his upper lip, yet he wore a smile.
"It already did. Only I can change the fate of this world. So I will shoulder the burden of saving it and my brother from that thing. All I need you to do is stay out of the way." His words were soft, yet filled with a cutting intensity.
"Is that not what the corrupted ones said? Though I still find it hard to believe—me, a savior?" he added whilst getting up.
"Anyways, stay safe… the both of you." His eyes trailed to her abdomen, and then, in front of her eyes, he disintegrated into dust.
The sister stared at where he had disintegrated with a complicated expression. Her hand moved to touch her stomach. And then the scene shattered like glass, leaving him standing in the command center of the underworld with everyone's eyes on him.
[INTEGRITY: 48%] [ESSENCE BALANCE: RED 79 : BLUE 21]
Neil took deep breaths. He turned to Sister Elowen and asked:
"What was that?"
She had a distant expression on her face, her eyes blazing with what Neil could only describe as intense longing.
"A prophetic revelation," she answered.
Neil shook his head.
"Those are myths. It's fine if you do not want to tell me." He turned to Marcus. "What is the proposal?"
Sister Elowen was about to speak but was stopped by her father. The old man got up from his chair and approached Neil.
"From a young age, my daughter has been able to hear the voices of the Gods, and occasionally she would receive visions and revelations.
Some of those revelations helped save my life plenty of times. I believe what she says, and if she says you are the savior of mankind, then I have to be the one to guide you." The old man stared at the glass ceiling of the command center, yet his eyes seemed to have pierced the veil and gone beyond.
"Although I despise the Gods, if there is a chance they are right, I'm willing to bet on it. My proposal is…"
…
A week later, Neil and Sister Elowen stood watching a funeral being broadcast on one of the monitors in the command center. He had an unreadable expression; the sister seemed to be holding back her laughter.
"Oh my, you were so famous," she spoke with a smile.
Neil shook his head and looked away. He never thought he would see his own funeral being broadcast live on national TV.
"Not really. Anyways, where did you say we are headed?" he asked.
Sister Elowen turned to him with a raised brow.
"I don't remember mentioning it to you, but if you must know, we are headed for Eberrune."
The door to the command center opened, and Noctalis walked in with a mysterious smile, his eyes on Neil.
"Eberrune can wait. There's a task issued to you by the general. There has been an attack on a small city about two hours away from here. The general asked for you and Inquisitor Marcellus to go deal with the Conspiracy there."
Neil nodded, but the sister quickly stepped in.
"Is it not too soon? Why would Father do such a thing?" she asked with a frown.
Noctalis shrugged and headed for the exit.
"The finest blade is forged in the hottest furnace." His voice trailed behind him.
Neil had his eyes on the man's back. There was something about Noctalis he found unsettling, but after having spent an entire week in the underground, he had to admit that the man was a genius.
His inventions that helped the mundane community fight back against the Conspiracy were groundbreaking. Using the hearts of the creatures as power sources for the weapons allowed mundane humans to siphon off the powers of the Conspiracy. He was currently developing suits empowered by the hearts of the Conspiracy, but he had met a difficult obstacle in that territory: the will of the Conspiracy remained in the suit, and it corrupted the user.
And of course, just like all geniuses, he had a shitty personality. He was a self-centered man. Yet Neil usually ignored him, like he would almost everyone in the underworld, with the sole exception of Sister Elowen, who never left his side.
"I will be coming too," she spoke, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"No can do," he responded and left the sister all alone in the command center.
Neil went to Section C to get gear for the mission. Inside, he ran into the Inquisitor, Marcellus. From the looks of it, the man did not like him, which he did not mind—in fact, he preferred it that way. He could no longer get close to anyone in fear that the man with stars in his eyes would come take them away from him again, just like he did his brother.
The inquisitor glared at him. He ignored the man and went to the person in charge of distributing gear—a young man his age named Ander. He had green eyes, brown hair, and a lean stature. He was an average-looking young man who always wore a smile on his face.
"Good afternoon, Neil. What will you be getting?" Ander asked.
Neil nodded at the man and then moved his gaze past him. His eyes scanned through the shelves behind him. Being a direct descendant of the Warpath, he was well-versed in the art of war, meaning he could wield every weapon ever made in human history with a high degree of mastery. So in the end, he gave Ander the responsibility of picking his gear for him.
"Are you sure? Your gear is an essential part of the battle ahead. Picking the wrong thing might cost you your life. Are you sure you want to dump the responsibility on someone else?" Ander asked again.
Neil smiled and left without giving the man an answer.
In an instant, he had arrived in his room. Their rooms were at the bottom level of the underworld. The rooms were very small, with no furniture. They slept in advanced sleeping bags that could have their temperature adjusted, and in the underground they all wore tight-fitting spandex.
No cellphones were allowed. Instead, they had high-tech watches with holographic systems installed. The watches were waterproof, damage-proof, as they were made from experimental materials.
The reason he had retreated to the comfort of his room was to quietly re-watch his funeral. His supposed death was part of his agreement with the old man, yet deceiving his parents was something that broke his heart.
The holographic screen popped up, and he went to the web. It seemed like Sister Elowen was right—his death was making waves on the web. Playing the video, he watched as his mother cried, and his father had a distant look, although his pain was apparent.
A lot of people had attended the funeral, a lot of familiar faces as well, and some he had never met. Switching off the holographic screen, he lay flat on his back and stared at the ceiling. The memory of his brother's death replayed in his head, along with the memory he had received from Sister Elowen.
Coupled with the scene before the memory—his brother's voice calling to him—the immense pain he was currently feeling could not be described by simple words.
Knock.
A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts.
"It's open," he answered.
The door opened. Sister Elowen walked in, carrying his gear: a full-body black combat suit, two laser pistols, a short enhanced sword, and a pair of big-grade boots and gloves.
She placed them next to him before sitting down. They sat in silence for a short while until Neil decided to break the silence.
"Sister—" she cut him off.
"Call me Elowen. There is no need for formalities between us."
Neil tilted his head to get a better look at her, then scoffed and shook his head.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing. You remind me of someone," he responded.
"By someone, do you mean the princess of Cindra, Evangeline?"
Neil looked away. Elowen regarded him with an unreadable expression before she also cast her gaze elsewhere.
"Good luck," she said after a while, then left the room.
Neil stared at her small back as she left. He shook his head gently.
[What was that about?]