The group looked confused, Weapon Man's stature began to stumble. The Holy One, whilst sighing, sat on his throne, a throne made of tearing cobblestone , it was cursed with a broken grey colour. Licas began to calm the situation down. "Your Uncle was a brother to me" Licas explained.
Weapon Man responded angrily, "What's that got to do with the Time Cores and how does that link to me?"
Licas explained that Weapon Man's clan are all intensely connected. They can use each other's abilities, and see their memories .
Weapon Man said , " My uncle was mentally sick , at the end of his life he was screaming these crazy theories."
Licas explained that his Uncle was a brilliant mind. Always thirsting for knowledge, but nothing could satisfy that quench. Until he was too deep in.
Licas explained that everything , from a universe to time core, has a soul. Those time cores include souls and if they are released it can affect nations of people.
Sarah asked, "What are the consequences for releasing a time core soul?"
Hundreds of Years ago.
In Shylock's South, Licas Ordo sat in the Council of Shareholders. A room designed for the higher-ups of the Exploring Institute . It was used for discussions, they would check in every financial quarter to pitch new ideas , to invest, to talk about costs and profits. The door was slammed open.
A man with black and curly hair and a scar on his right cheek, his green eyes blooming across the boardroom.
He said, "I am Shawn Hakken and I have a business idea!"
Licas looked intrigued and the other board members looked disinterested and asked him to leave. Licas asked Shawn to pitch his idea. "Soul Collection or Soullection?" Shawn laughed. The boardroom was suddenly interested and opened to his idea . " With a large amount of money we can be able to dissect souls and transit their properties to other items or beings." Shawn said. The board gave him a substantial amount of money and they would monitor the progress. Since Licas was so keen to fund the product, he was put on the project with Shawn. They would experiment with human souls against the souls of a weapon. Some results were great and alot of them were gruesome. They would begin to sell forged souls to different companies and nations. Although other companies began to steal and duplicate their product. At one of the following board meetings
"We have not met any of our financial goals this year," Members said.
Licas tried to rationalise with the shareholders whilst Shawn rummaged through his brain for any new ideas. They were given two months to increase profits or they would be fired.
Orda Licas said to the group, "You see the stronger the soul, the more valuable it is."
So Shawn dragged him to Rioland. This was a place where fighters were born . It was a highly developed civilization, the perfect weapons, flying trains in the sky, technology designed to simulate assations tasks, and Uri development. The society was funded off of Underground Fights and Hunter Wars. Offering the rest of the funding for a bounty. Licas explained, "At the time, Ealker Futurum. Was THE strongest assassin at the time."
Licas's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Shawn's resolve strengthen. Desperation filled his voice as he pleaded with his friend, "Please, Shawn, there has to be a better solution. We don't need to involve his family."
Shawn's icy gaze threatened Licas, but beneath the cold facade, a flicker of concern for his friend still remained. He hesitated for a moment, torn between his ambition and his loyalty to Licas. Despite the hesitation, Shawn finally clenched his jaw and, with a determined look, pressed the ominous button in front of him, releasing the bounty—setting a chain of events into motion.
"I want our nation to be a force to be reckoned with, powerful and mighty," Shawn declared, his voice carrying the weight of his convictions. "And in a dictatorship, we'll have full control over the rules, over everything. We'll become the wealthiest and most powerful entity out there." Tension filled the air as Licas felt the gravity of Shawn's words sinking in. The path he was embarking on was dark and dangerous, and Licas knew the consequences could be dire. Yet, he also understood Shawn's desire to elevate their nation to unparalleled heights. But as the bounty's consequences unfolded, Licas couldn't shake the fear and doubt gnawing at him. The thought of involving innocent lives, including the man's family, troubled him deeply. Licas knew there had to be another way to achieve greatness without resorting to such ruthless measures.
The room's atmosphere became charged with conflicting emotions. Shawn's determination clashed with Licas's inner struggle. And as events spiraled out of control, the weight of their decisions hung heavily over them both, threatening to shatter their once-unbreakable bond.
Shawn's determination burned brightly as he insisted on allowing events to unfold naturally, despite the imminent danger. Licas, fueled by a mix of fear and loyalty, dashed towards Ealker's flat with a singular purpose. As he raced through the bustling streets, he beheld a surreal sight—the masses of people swarming towards the apartment building, like an unstoppable tide crashing against its walls.
In the chaotic frenzy, Ghost Trains were commandeered by desperate individuals, hurtling through the cityscape in a race against time. The once serene citadel was now transformed into a battleground of frenzied desperation. People trampled upon one another, driven by a single-minded determination to reach Ealker's location. The air crackled with a charged energy, a potent mix of anticipation and desperation that permeated every breath.
Arriving at the entrance of the building, Licas hurriedly made his way up the stairs, each step a pulsating reminder of the mounting danger. As he ascended, his heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm syncing with the pounding footsteps echoing through the stairwell. The air grew thick with tension, as if every molecule vibrated with a sense of impending doom.
Finally reaching the rooftop, Licas was greeted by a sight that heightened his unease. A well-dressed man, donning a meticulously tailored black and white suit, stood with an air of calculated confidence. The scene of tobacco clinging to his cufflinks exuded an aura of mystery and intrigue. Licas approached him, breathless and anxious, his words spilling out in a hurried plea.
"Ealker, they're coming after you," Licas blurted out, his voice laced with urgency and concern.
Ealker, his hand clasping a cigarette and a glass of liquor, offered a wry smile in response. His eyes, filled with a mixture of defiance and resignation, met Licas'. In that moment, the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, etching lines of determination on Ealker's face.
"I know," Ealker replied, his voice carrying a tinge of acceptance and defiance, as if he had already made peace at the bloodshed and massacre that is about to take place.