"W-Who are you people?" Pablo could barely even breathe. The aura was just too… suffocating.
"We are the Great Commanders. I'm Kaan." Joka pointed at himself, then at Kaan. "This is Joka–"
Kaan, however, interrupted him. "No, I'm Kaan, and you're Joka."
"Right, sorry, guys." He laughed. "I'm Joka. This is Kaan."
"Great Commanders? Like Erik?!" Even though he had a hard time believing it, Pablo was relieved to see them. "I have been tortured and kidnapped without my consent! I have jewelry protection, don't I?!" he yelled. "Take us away from here!"
"…Huh?" Joka's jaw dropped. He fixed his sunglasses. "Brochacho. We're here to kill you." After that, he nudged Kaan with his elbow. "I'll have fun with the pinkie. You take the bla–"
"I don't think you should call him that." Kaan cleared his throat and stopped Joka from saying something he'd regret.
"Oh shit! Damn you right." Joka himself didn't even realize it at first.
At the reveal, The Anomaly's heart almost stopped. Did Paula lie? No, Lumen said it herself… So why?
"Seriously? But… Er–"
"Who gives a damn about Erik? He is doing sentimental bullshit. He doesn't know how much of a problem you actually are." He drew a dagger and pointed it at Pablo. "Though I'd love to have a chat before I kill you. How about you and I go for a walk? Also, you can't say no to this. I'll just kill you."
"Hey, you can't–" Otoru took a step forward, but Kaan placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You shouldn't worry about Joka," Kaan said, towering over Otoru.
The darkness in his eyes immediately reminded him of Kai, but this was different. If Kai's eyes showed him the abyss, Kaan's eyes showed what was beneath the abyss itself.
As Pablo and Joka left to take a walk in the long, dark and currently empty garden of the Caedis, Pablo couldn't stop shaking.
"You can refer to me as Joka. I don't like that formal shit. Also, if you try to run or do some stupid stuff, I'll kill you too."
"Okay." He gulped. "So, uh… why do you want to kill me? Won't that create problems within the government? Like political stuff?"
"Nah. I mean, the problems I'll create by killing you are nothing compared to the problems you will eventually create." He placed his hands in his pockets. "I'm playing the long game here, Pablo. Erik is playing the emotional one."
"Emotional?" He raised an eyebrow. "E-Emotional how?"
"He never told you about Wolvy?" He gave a short, startled laugh.
"Who is Wolvy?" Pablo's gaze narrowed thoughtfully.
"Erik's son. Adorable little goober, really. He is the last remaining member of Erik's family. But the thing is, he's dying, Pablo. You want to know why?" He tilted his head while smiling.
As he connected the puzzle pieces in his head, it all just started making sense in a weird, twisted way. "He has the same disease as I do." He breathed out in horror.
"Bingo!" He cackled. "Sorry to break it to you, but… none of this has anything to do with you specifically. He is doing all of this just for one kid."
Pablo stopped walking, the revelation hitting him like a truck. He looked at the grass beneath his feet, zoned out. Everything Erik had said to him changed its meaning.
"The reason a cure for Hyper Magic Poisoning was never found is that every patient died before researchable symptoms appeared. He is trying to 'cultivate' you so he can dig into your skin later." Despite the shock Pablo was feeling, Joka found his own amusement in it.
"So…" Pablo looked up and met Joka's eyes. "…The cure doesn't exist?"
The response was the last thing Joka expected from Pablo. He expected guilt, shame and understanding, but…
Joka laughed. "Holy shit, that's what you're concerned about? My god, you're amazing!" He kept laughing and put an arm around Pablo's shoulder. "So you really don't give a shit about the dying kid!"
"I… I guess so." He could only smile at how pathetic he was. "I just want to live. Is that so much to ask for?"
"Geez, I thought you were one of those." He sighed in delight. "I like people like you. But liking you isn't gonna cut it. I still need to kill you. Nothing personal."
"I've been looking for a cure for more than two months. I used it to excuse everything I ever did. I always said that I wasn't the problem. The world that cursed me with this disease was." He couldn't stop smiling for whatever reason. He noticed a puddle beneath his feet and stared at what should have been his own reflection. But instead, a woman, the same woman from his dreams, was looking at him.
YES.
SAY IT.
"Holy shit… I am a bad guy, aren't I?" The tears swelled up in his eyes, but the smile stayed.
"So? Bad guy, good guy, whatever. They're just fancy words people use to call whatever they don't agree with 'different'. A pizza isn't a burger. Big deal." Joka shrugged.
"Now, come on. Let's go." Joka led him back to Kaan and Otoru, right to the exit. "So how was I supposed to do it?" Joka pulled his knife out and put Pablo on his knees.
Pablo didn't fight back. He couldn't find it in himself to just get up and fight for his life. "I'm going to die anyway. Whether it's from his hands or Erik's," he said to himself. "And even if I survive this disease, I'll one day die anyway."
Kaan grabbed Otoru by the throat and effortlessly lifted him into the air. "The artery. But can't he regenerate anyway?"
Joka cackled and placed the knife on Pablo's throat. "Nah. I have a feeling he won't."
"No…" Otoru tried to breathe.
Pablo closed his eyes, the fight in him gone.
He found himself on the shore once more. The sky was clear and sunny, and the wind felt refreshing against his body. He took a deep breath and stared at the sky. He took a step forward towards the woman in front of him.
"No," she said. "You need to let go of something else."
The words stopped the ocean beneath her. The sky turned dark. Pablo felt the sand beneath his feet disappear and fell into the emptiness below him.
Right as he was about to hit the ground and meet his inevitable death, he opened his eyes to a loud noise. Flesh tendrils grabbed Joka's arms, stopping him from killing Pablo. "What the hell?" all four of them said at the same time.
The source of the magic was Imito, saving him just in time. "Now it's time for Uncle to show off." He grinned.
"Badass." Joka giggled at the sight, but still raised his leg to kick Pablo with all his might. "Painful death it is."
Only for Pablo to warp away from the kick, right next to Kai.
Kai's blade glowed, a hateful glare directed at Joka. "Just so you know, the truce was his idea," Kai growled.
"This is surprising." Kaan let go of Otoru, who was on the brink of death. He collapsed onto the floor unconscious.
"Leave, Kai. This is an order," Joka said, the shit-eating grin on his face now gone.
"Didn't I tell you already?" Kai pointed his Odachi at Joka. The color in his pupils slightly faded, turning gray. "I don't take orders from you anymore."
"So you'll betray the United Government for what… revenge?" Joka took a step forward.
"You're the one betraying it. I'm just following orders. What about you?" It'd be a lie to say Kai wasn't afraid, but he swallowed his fear and walked forward anyway.
"You little brat." A little portal appeared behind Joka, and his sunglasses glowed. Out of the portal, a long, comedically long Odachi appeared. "Who do you think taught you to talk shit?"
"You should escape, Pablo Drake." Kai looked back at Pablo. "My mission is to keep you alive. And no, I'm not sacrificing myself for you. Because I won't lose this fight."
And once more, somebody saved his skin. His eyes welled up, threatening to rain. With utter confusion, unexplainable guilt, immense shame and incredible self-loathing…
Pablo ran away.
He ran like an animal, crying, yelling and screaming along the way. He screamed loud enough to lose his voice, his primal pleading echoing through the entire island.
Joka was so focused on Kai, and so angry at him, that he couldn't even see Pablo running away. "Joka, he's getting away," Kaan said.
"Shut the fuck up, freak. I'm about to commit murder." He ignored it nonetheless. "Let's see how well Erik treated you."
Kaan turned his attention to Imito and clenched his fists, ready to brawl. "Imito The Mimicry Genius, I must say… if we had met at any other moment in time, I'd ask for an autograph."
"Sorry, but I don't do autographs, especially for genocidal maniacs." Imito glared with pure disgust.
The First Apostle, The Killing Machine, the Masterpiece of Erik Eishelm against The Weaponry Genius of the Government.
And The Mimicry Genius who sailed in the same sea as gods and punched them in the face against The Flawless Body.
A battle no one will hear of now, but one thousands will talk about years later.