*I'M ALIVE! Passed all my exams. First year of uni is done, and I'm getting close to one year of this fic going. Damn... I'm old :))))
Anyway, please enjoy and see you all on discord: https://discord.com/invite/8RcQy2aQ36
(I just checked if the link works, and the background image made me laugh cuz I forgot I added it :)))
Peace out and Deus vult*
Mark's eyes opened slowly, a hazy feeling washing over his mind. It had been a while since he'd had a good drink like that, especially with such a joyous bunch. The memories were fresh, as always, even if the alcohol tried to wash them away.
'I didn't drink THAT much this time... and heck, I know my limits. We're good.'
With a muffled thud, his feet touched the carpet, feeling the soft material give way to him. The room was simple, as he remembered it. His gaze danced around slowly, looking from one thing to the other. His trusty metal pipe that carried him through Belobog, the makeshift blade he's used so proudly, labor of his own hands.
Hoolay's sword rested there too, alongside the thin blade won at the contest on the Xianzhou.
"All those things," he whispered. "All those things, and now here I am, with what I'd call enough money to last multiple lifetimes, ideas I can bring into existence, and yet..."
The nod his head gave was more of a lifeless motion, a perpetual motion that he had practiced to the point of insanity. It spoke no words, but it gave away all the emotion he could.
"Heh... wish I had those idiots of mine to play with. They're the bunch I did the most with... oh, the shit we'd do now with money and free time... or my family, the things I'd buy for them..."
With a sigh, he stood up, shaking his head slightly like it would send the memories flying. It was one of those days when the fun had been had, and what lingered inside of him was the regret he's always pushed down. It never sank for good.
'Hell, I wish I could sometimes turn off my emotions... but then I'd lose what makes me human, right?'
Silently, he ran the tips of his fingers along the right arm, tracing it like walking down a memory, trying to bring back the past. The scar he had on his wrist, nothing but a memory of a cat that worked its art on his skin, was gone. He had his arm, but it wasn't truly his.
'Hell, why am I even overthinking everything so much today?'
With the timing only the devil could pull, his phone beeped, a message from a nameless source, one he knew the name of without the need to ask: Kafka.
"Meet me in the lobby."
Yep, no need to ask more questions. She was there, in the hotel, waiting for him and whatever surprise she had in store.
'Guess I'll mope around another time. I've got business to handle.'
His routine was smooth, the prayers coming out with a touch more longing, sent across ages for the ones mentioned. Same clothes, a quick change, and he flew out without a word.
The path there was already ingrained in his mind, so much so that it was just an annoyance. At times he'd forget about the space anchors, yet he also didn't use them for short distances. Walking was the thing he did perhaps most in life, something he loved, usually thanks to the company.
'If I teleported everywhere, how could I keep complaining about having to walk so much?'
That train of thought stirred a chuckle out of him, a slight tinge of a smile curving his lips in that familiar half-arched motion. Soon enough, the bar came into view. To his surprise, there was no trace of Kafka, so he patiently took a seat and waited, blank stare fixed on the counter, fingers drumming against it.
"My, it's been a while, hasn't it?"
With a smile, Mark shrugged, not even bothering to look to the side at the beautiful woman that had so nonchalantly plopped right by.
"It sure has. Xianzhou, right? Don't think we've seen one another since then," nodded Mark, motioning to the barman for two drinks.
"Indeed. I'm rather curious to hear all about your endeavors, my rival," she smiled, that gentle, sinister smile of hers sending warnings louder than any sound could be.
"Oh, no worries. We'll have some time, and I say some since I'm rather looking forward to doing what we have to, then returning to mind my business," shrugged Mark, watching the glasses come to a halt in front of them, the amber liquid inside twirling slightly.
Kafka reached out for hers, giving it a twirl, slow and painfully agonizing, like a cat toying around. Mark mimicked her action, yet his twirls were a touch more languid, faster. The glasses met in a gentle kiss, clanking before parting, to each their own.
"I almost forgot that you do have some interesting business going on. Silver Wolf's been more than ecstatic to try that game of yours, and she's already been playing for quite some time."
She took a sip, licking her lips with the tip of her tongue, staring right into Mark's soul as she did. There was a type of playfulness in her gaze that would draw one in like a moth to a flame. Perhaps he'd have fallen too, in another life. Still, he knew enough about every trick in the book. Seduction was cheap on him, even if sometimes he'd indulge when the stakes were rather nonexistent.
"Glad to see she's enjoying it. After all, I did need her help with the technical stuff on the last hundred meters. She was a lifesaver."
Mark gulped the whole thing in one swoop, wiping his lips with a quick brush of his palm, carelessly putting the glass down. His expression remained impassive, a mere shell worn on top of his emotions. Kafka seemed to smile more at that.
"You seem thirsty, Mark. Maybe a few more drinks will help," she whispered, leaning closer, still studying his gaze with utmost care. He didn't feel like returning the gesture, yet his lips had a mind of their own, curling slightly.
"You haven't heard of personal space, have you?" he asked, pushing her back slightly, two fingers pressing against her shoulder as he did so. "That aside, let's just go. I'm curious about what job you have in mind."
"Straight to business, it seems. Here I was expecting to enjoy some quality time with you, but it seems you're not in the mood," she pouted, the gesture acted out flawlessly to the point he nearly believed it—but he knew better.
They both stood up at once, Mark's card sliding out at once as he paid, paying it little mind. With a quick flick of his wrist, the tab was covered, leaving him the only one bare in the lion's den—Kafka's presence.
'Must be something to do with Elio, I'd say. The last shenanigan in Penacony, while quite some time ago, did mess up some things here and there. Probably it's going to be a test of sorts.'
So, he walked, and walked, until they were away from prying eyes. Kafka handed him a bag, thick and darker than the night.
"I hope you do understand I have to be discrete about certain things. You want to put it on, don't you?"
The urge to comply was larger than normal, so he caught on.
"Stop using your damn abilities on me. I had it in mind to actually put that on without complaining. I do understand wanting to keep me in the dark with certain things."
Thus, he was left in the dark, following along as she guided him, palm on his back.
"Careful, try not to trip. Also, duck a little before entering. We don't want that cute head of yours to get hit, do we?"
"Like I'm not used to it," muttered Mark, his head fully engulfed by the bag.
Soon enough, he was urged down on a rather comfortable seat, silent of his own volition. He had no idea where Kafka was going, but at the same time, he trusted her enough—and his powers, should he have to break out by force.
'Let me think... Blade is immortal, but in a one on one I might win thanks to the other abilities I have. Still, it's sketchy if the others are in on it. SAM's armor is rather sturdy, and with Silver Wolf there to randomly code reality, I got no clue how shit would go. Let's also not forget that Kafka is pretty tricky. I know of some weapons she uses, but it's not exactly good for me to think she has just those.'
There was little for him to hear around, nothing more than Kafka humming along to a melody only she knew. Before long, however, she spoke.
"We're here."
Mark reached for the bag, but Kafka tugged it down a little more.
"Not yet, Mark, not yet. You must be patient, or else you'll ruin the surprise."
With a heavy sigh, he trudged along, listening to some doors open and close, before finally she slid the bag off.
"Welcome, Mark. I'm happy to have you over," she chuckled, taking a step back.
He had no clue where they were, none other than the unobstructed view of space in what looked like a somewhat normal living room. If it was their main base or something, or if they even had such a thing, he had no clue. Still, it was a nice place.
"Ah, Mark, it's been a while," said a heavy, robotic voice. None other than Firefly, wearing the SAM armor. Her illness was still an issue, and maybe this was a rightful reminder for him to take a look into that as well.
"Heh, Firefly, how's it going? It's been a while."
He went for a fist bump, which she returned as gently as the suit allowed her to. To the side, Silver Wolf was sitting there, looking like a bomb about to go off from how much energy seemed to have piled up inside her tiny frame.
"There he is. I must admit, the game you made is interesting. The mechanics aren't much my style, but it's a nice way to burn some time. I found a lot to do in there, more than I thought of at first."
Mark nodded, smiling slightly.
"Welp, let's just say that there's a lot more in there than you'd expect. I hope to make some VR equipment for it too in the future, so stay tuned for that as well. It should make playing way more interactive. Now, I think there are some things like that out there, but I wanna make my own."
She nodded, looking rather smug for some reason.
"I see. I'll be waiting. Until then, I'm off to play some more."
He watched her go, hiding away in her room. Mark couldn't blame her for it too much, truth be told. He looked off to the side, noticing Blade brooding in his seat, looking up at Mark with a glare that could perhaps melt steel.
"Your sword," he said, standing up.
"Blade, it's not the time," chimed SAM, but he seemed to care little for it.
"Show me that sword," he asked, walking closer.
'I forgot that this guy is a maniac when it comes to wanting to die. Shit. Must've seen my weapon in action in Penacony or something. Damn footage and cameras.'
Mark tried to shake it off, taking a step back.
"Now, I don't think we should be figh-"
Kafka stepped between them, speaking calmly.
"Now, Bladie, it's not the time for fighting."
With a groan, he sat back down, silent.
"Welp, thanks for that," said Mark, nodding towards Kafka. "Truth is, I don't know if my sword is capable of doing that, but it sure is an interesting weapon," he added, looking down at Blade with a calm gaze.
'If the Sword of Will is capable of defeating him for good, I'd do more wrong than right... or would I? Perhaps it's my selfish desire to have information that works that holds me back, but who can say? I should, however, try to figure out if I could work on the memories with it. I still recall those things she told me, about my will, about the weapon...'
His lips felt warm and tingly at the memory, but he clung to the important thing now, the bit of information needed.
'I must understand my will, what it is that I wish to do. Maybe I'll have to study this guy's head a little, who knows? I got some traces of Abundance in my body, the same shit that keeps my arm going and me standing when I strain myself too much.'
"Looks like you're deep in thought," chuckled Kafka, crossing her arms.
"Oh, my bad," shrugged Mark, shaking his head slightly.
"Well, it seems like the gang's here for the most part, at least the ones I know. So, why did you bring me here too, if I may ask?"
She kept the same easy-going smile on, circling him slowly before sitting down on the couch, legs crossed. SAM looked from the side, silent.
"Well, Mark, there's a little something I'd like to do with you. Let's say it's me assessing how good of a rival you are."
Mark shook his head, speaking bluntly.
"We both know you only like games like this outside of work. I'm pretty much a headache for a certain someone, I'm sure of it. Don't think I forgot about that cute kitty you guys supposedly have, and then the faceless Elio."
A shot in the dark, he knew that much, but the idea was somewhat ingrained in his mind.
"You're no fun, Mark," she sighed, leaning back fully. "It's still an assessment, just a different one. I'm curious to see your growth and learn what I can," she admitted, holding his gaze. "You didn't go against Elio's script fully, even if some events are tied to you, like what took place in Penacony."
"I see... so, you guys are trying to check up what kinda level of help I can provide, right? Let's just say that I plan on doing a lot, but we'll see. I don't know what the future brings," he replied casually.
'At least not fully, cuz I know bits.'
With a sigh, he nodded again.
"Fine by me. We'll go through with whatever test you have in mind, just let me know."
Kafka grinned, patting the spot by her side.
"For now, relax. I still want to keep the surprise going for a little more."
Mark closed his eyes, sighing heavily, cursing under his breath.
"I hate being kept in suspense so much..."