The key gleamed in Emmanuel's hands. He had always convinced himself that keys were symbols of solutions. He had imagined finding a world where heroism was still needed, where a knight could prove his strength and courage. But reality was utterly different; he was the weakest Cleaner to ever pass through the Organization's history, bound by the limits of logic. This was after his first adventure. Yet, a touch of hope never left him, not even for a moment, when he returned home. He removed his worn-out armor, returned it to its designated place, then lay on his bed and slept, clutching the key all night. It never left his grasp, not even for a second, until its lines were imprinted on his palms by morning, like a mark from fate.
When he woke, he began his day as usual: exercises, work, helping those in need. But this time, something different weighed on his mind—unrelenting questions. He placed the bracelet on his wrist and the key around his neck, waiting for nightfall, waiting for the moment he would search for answers. The answers didn't even wait until midnight, when John appeared—the good-natured boy known to the few inside the tavern. His distinctive character was clear; his kindness set him apart in a place filled with those life had worn down during the day. John was simply different, and so was Emmanuel himself. John approached Emmanuel, his voice low and steady:
[Where did you get that key?]
Emmanuel thought for a moment. Perhaps this person knew something… And indeed, John directed him to the Organization in its old location, inside one of Britain's ruined and abandoned mansions.
As they wandered through the Organization's corridors, Emmanuel noticed a strange person standing afar, watching him with a constant, smiling gaze.
[Who is that? —Emmanuel asked John.]
[That's Alexander,—John replied, his voice tinged with mystery— the weakest Cleaner in the Organization. They say he's never obtained a single key his entire time here. Perhaps the only thing he's done is build this place, and I don't know how he did it. A truly strange person, so that's why he always stands alone, without a friend or companion.]
Emmanuel smiled sheepishly, then John said:
[Ah,speaking of companions, where's yours?]
[Emmanuel,trying to hide the truth, answered: —It's a louse in my ear, it's the one that guides me.]
John laughed, but he knew Emmanuel wasn't being truthful. Emmanuel didn't want to show his weakness. As missions piled up, the truth emerged: after every mission, he returned covered in wounds, his armor damaged, parts of it missing, but Emmanuel remained steadfast. Despite his second-to-last rank, he never surrendered, never truly defeated by the monsters he faced without power. His only defeat was the pitying and mocking glances from others.
They nicknamed him "The Glass Knight," because of his repeated injuries and the blood he left daily in the Organization's hallways, even though he was still only Level E. Through all this, Emmanuel realized this world was even crueler than the last: there were no weaklings for him to save; he would be the weak one needing rescue.
Emmanuel spent days inside his home, sitting by the mirror, asking questions of himself. He found no answers except the pitiful reflections in his mirror, until he shattered it with his own hand and stared at the blood now covering it. Blood, perhaps proof of his weakness, but also a reminder of his resolve. Emmanuel rose, defying the weakness of his body, and decided to prove to himself: he was more than just a key collector for money; he was a hero saving those in need, in an age where everyone else was running after their daily bread, he was racing in the contest of goodness.
That night, he donned his battered armor, stood before the broken mirror, and repeated in a faint voice:
[I am the wild Knight…Who am I...I am the wild Knight…]
After midnight, he went out as usual, but this time, rage burned within him, driving him to confront anyone he met. Suddenly, he spotted a girl crying near the tavern. He approached her in his intimidating armor and said:
[What's the problem with you, girl? Do you need help?]
She replied fearfully:
[They've kidnapped my mother…]
She led him to the gang's hideout in an abandoned house near the tavern. As he approached, he heard a woman's screams; she was surrounded by five strong men. Emmanuel said sharply:
[Today, I won't let anyone escape, because if any of you escapes, he will leave behind scum just like him!]
The five men laughed, and the woman who had been screaming moments ago laughed with them. Emmanuel was bewildered, waiting for an explanation from the scene before him, but the surprise came from behind—successive stabs from the little girl into his spine.
[Aaaah…! —Emmanuel screamed, each stab accompanied by pain wracking his body.]
He turned slowly and saw the girl, saying with a strange calm:
[Why…?]
He fell onto his back. The five men, the woman, and her daughter approached him. It had been a well-laid trap.
One of the men shouted at the girl:
[You can't even bring us a suitable person!He doesn't even have a wallet, just damaged armor!]
They all left, except for the little girl who stared at Emmanuel. He smiled at her, his mind capable of only one thought:
[Even as a victim,I'm not suitable…]
He raised his hand towards her, but it wasn't a threat. He merely patted her pigtails, then turned and began crawling to get out of the house. The girl was strangely excited, clapping and laughing madly:
[You're really stubborn!Come on, go! Faster, faster, faster, Knight!]
Filled with determination, Emmanuel crawled through the rain, his voice rising with every movement:
[Aeeeaaah!]
He reached the tavern, but found no one to help him. Fortunately, he transitioned into the World of Doors—the very same haunted tavern that Edgar and Ronny had entered. He continued his crawl along the yellow road, his blood turning it red. If not for his rock-solid stubbornness, he would have died already; even the strongest individuals couldn't survive without comparable tenacity.
Finally, he entered the desired door, exhausted. He leaned on his back, looked up at the night sky and its stars, and raised his hand. He wondered internally:
["Why,in a dark world, do humans look up to the stars, yet no one has ever looked up to me?"]