Chapter Song Suggestion "What Do You Dream About by hello meteor"
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THE PAST | Lars
He gazed out at the stretch of blinking lights and neon signboards of Volaris, taking a puff of his cigarette before blowing it out.
"Why aren't you joining the party, Captain Verhelst?"
He turned at the sultry voice. It was the party volunteer who had been smiling and coming onto him the entire night. She was pretty with dark wavy hair and cinnamon skin — and very available. "It's not my scene."
A waft of vanilla musk under his nostrils and the heat of her fingertips trailing over his back told him she was behind him. "Is that a code word for boredom? I don't know if you realize, Captain but ever since you walked in, I only have eyes for you." She faced him; pupils blown with desire. "I'm free and willing. We can entertain each other all—night—long."
His gaze dropped to her pouty lips. He was bored, and they were young. "What's your name?"
A smile spread across her lips. "Kalina."
He tossed his unfinished cigarette. "Come with me, Kalina."
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PRESENT DAY | Three Days Later...
Lars found Eira bent over the toilet the next morning, retching her heart and lungs out. Wetting a warm cloth, he gently swept her hair aside and cleaned her face. "Are you alright? Do you need me to fetch the medical officer?" His heart thudded at how pale she looked.
"No, no, I'm fine," she mumbled incoherently. "I think it's something I ate last night. That damned Koga, wait until I get my hands on him for feeding me that nasty looking fish."
His face tautened. "I still think it's best if you consult the medical officer."
"I'm not going to miss Anaelle's battle," she insisted stubbornly. "It's the final round and she'll need all the support she can get. If she wins, then we're closer to winning the championship."
"Anaelle will be fine without you screaming at the top of your lungs," he said wryly, unable to understand their 'girlfriend' bond. "She won't be able to hear you above the noise."
Eira cracked a green eye open, staring a hole through him. "It's called emotional support. And I promised her, so I'm not going to break my word." She lifted both arms, wriggling her fingers. "Help me into the shower, will you?"
Lars grinned at her bossiness. It was a sign that she was settling in with him, able to comfortably announce her wants and needs. He didn't mind. Lars enjoyed spoiling her. "I have a better idea. Let's shower together, and we'll go to the arena together. But if you still feel unwell, then I'm taking you to the medical centre."
"Fine," she huffed in exaggerated annoyance, although deep down, she melted at his thoughtfulness.
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Eira didn't know whether to be sad or happy about their unit's third ranking in the final round, concluding the Annual Kill Hunter Championship.
"You look like someone just killed your favourite pet," Florian jokingly remarked, appearing beside her to watch the closing ceremony. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, you're here." Eira barely spared him a glance, her devastation taking precedence. "It's just upsetting how nobody actually remembers the names of those who rank second or third place. I don't even remember last year's runner ups. Only champions are remembered."
Florian couldn't deny the truth of her blunt statement. "It is what it is."
She sighed, dispelling her melancholy. "I believe Anaelle, Kaiser and Koga have tried their best so I'm going to put on the biggest smile when I see them. Compared to last year's records, I think we made a vast improvement, didn't we?"
Florian's eyes crinkled at the corners. He had a feeling Eira was more concerned for the trio's mental state than she was truly upset over the ranking.
"And Koga was so happy when he won days ago. He even fed me some disgusting raw fish to celebrate his victory," she continued lamenting.
A laugh stirred his throat. "They'll be fine, Eira. You don't have to worry about their feelings. They'll get over their lost."
"For once I wanted to defeat Captain Hakon's team," she sulked. "They're the champions at everything. It's not fair."
His laughter became stilted, the misery of being the loser everytime they competed with unit one was a blow to anyone's pride. "I understand that all too well."
"What's with the long faces, you two?" Koga hugged them from behind. His face was a portrait of questionable mischief. "Let me guess, are you talking about our No.3 rank? Is that why you both look disappointed?"
"No!" Eira blurted with an overly high-pitched laugh. "We were just making fun of Captain Hakon's team. Have you seen Niklas's hair? It looks like a bush sticking out of someone's ass."
Florian noisily cleared his throat, mentally begging for her to shut up before she embarrassed herself further.
"It's alright, Eira." Anaelle suppressed her laughter. "You don't have to protect our feelings. The ranking was completely intentional."
Eira's smile fell away, morphing into puzzlement. "What do you mean?"
"Captain's orders," Kaiser simply answered. "We were to throw off the Lieutenant General's suspicion but not call too much attention onto ourselves."
"Lars could have filled us in on it," Florian muttered, a little hurt to be left out of the loop.
Eira snapped her fingers. "So that's why!" Her shoulders sagged. "Well, that's a relief."
"Were you doubting us?" Koga practically shouted in her face.
She shrank back reflexively. "I'm sorry! It was never my intention."
"Isn't it better this way?" Kaiser commented, more talkative than usual. "It's better to save your true potential on a real fight when the enemy doesn't know your strengths. That way, you have the upper hand."
Kaiser nearly fell forward when Koga slapped him on the back. "I like the way you think, Kaiser. And I think your reaper's fucking cool. Was what it called again? The ultimate defense?"
Eira was glad to see the awkward Kaiser getting along with the rest of the team. She glanced over their shoulders. "Where's Lars?"
"We bumped into him on the way here," Anaelle said. "He told us to return without him. The officials are celebrating tonight, and he'll be home late. That's what he wanted me to tell you."
Russet brows hitched in surprise. "A celebration? How come we weren't told about this?"
"It's an exclusive party for the big wig officials. I heard rumours about how wild and extravagant these celebrations get. For a bunch of old men, they sure know how to party." Koga was literally drooling at the thought of all those liquor and women.
Anaelle didn't like the idiotic look on his face. She crossed her arms expectantly. "Define wild and extravagant."
He shrugged. "Think about it. What's there left to do after the end of the world? You work hard, play hard and most importantly, party hard. After all, we only live once."
She speared him with an unimpressed stare. "You're not answering me."
"What he means is that they hire strippers and entertain with alcohol and sometimes even with C-level drugs," Kaiser clarified, wondering if he wasn't divulging too much by the black look on Anaelle's face.
"Strippers!" Eira's calm dissipated. "Why the fuck would they hire strippers to a party with a bunch of aging men."
The four of them gave her looks ranging from 'your poor child' to 'you innocent soul'.
"What's with those looks?" she demanded peevishly.
"You don't have to worry about the Captain." Anaelle closed a hand over her shoulder. "He attends every year, but he always came home alone. I just didn't know the celebration was an excuse for imbibing and whoring." She spat out the last word.
"The Captain's never alone," Koga snickered. "Kalina's a regular volunteer for the party, and she would always meet with the Captain there. That's how they met."
"You idiot!" Anaelle smacked his chest.
"Ouch! What did I do?" he grumbled. Understanding dawned on him when he saw Eira's pale expression. His hands shot out in defense. "Of course, I wasn't implying that the Captain's a cheater. We all know he's devoted to you."
"It's not Lars I'm worried about," Eira grinded out.
Koga blinked. "It's not?"
"It's Kalina." Fisting Koga's lapels, she shook him roughly. "How do I become a volunteer?"
"I think it's too late, Eira. The party's set to begin in an hour."
Eira growled and shook him harder. "I don't care. I want in on that party, Koga Akabashi."
"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up in surrender. "I'll see what I can do. There's this guy I know who works at the Volaris Loft."
"Is that where the party's held?"
"Every year, without fail."
Satisfied with his response, she hauled him out by his shirt. "Then, let's go."
"Should we stop them?" Florian hesitated, torn between doing so and anticipating the imminent cat fight. It would be entertaining to see the women fight over Lars's attention. He wasn't being mean, only that he never imagined something like this would happen to the Captain. Unlike Florian, Lars wasn't a ladies' man, and most women avoided his brooding face.
"Let them be." Anaelle wasn't the least bit interested. "Young lovers need a little excitement in their lives. The Captain will probably thank us once the night is over."
Kaiser failed to catch her meaning. "Why's that?"
Blue eyes ensnared his, a hint of surprise that he was still around. "What do lovers do in the dark when there's music, alcohol and erotic outfits? You're a man, Kaiser. You do the math."
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Lars always hated these hypocritical parties. The world was riddled with problems – rampant predators, starving villages, poverty and those seeking refuge – yet here the government officials were, swimming in wealth, drowning in liquor and taking their pick of delectable morsels to warm their cocks for the night, regardless of if they were single or married.
The married ones were the worse. They slobbered over the young strippers like animals in heat, uncaring that their behaviour might reach the ears of their wives. And yes, this was a men's only party — the reason why Volaris Loft was highly sought after by many; their clientele discretion policy was ironclad. All workers were vetted and forced to sign a nondisclosure form.
"Not enjoying the party, Captain Verhelst? I hear congratulations are in order for your unit's victory, although third rank is as good as yesterday's news. Unfortunately, people only remember the champions."
Lars glanced up over the rim of his whiskey neat, feeling the urge to rip off Levente's smug face where he stood. He wasn't in the mood to grind axes tonight. "Lieutenant General."
"Do you mind?" Levente gestured at the empty seat.
"By all means, it's a public space after all," Lars grunted.
Levente sipped his liquor, all the while studying Lars. "You know, I've always thought it a shame that I hadn't been the one to find you first. I wonder, what type of man you'll be if I had."
Lars swallowed the scathing remark on his tongue. "The past is set in stone. There are things we can never forget, no matter how hard we try – especially – mistakes we aren't willing to admit or confess."
The double meaning wasn't lost on Levente, whose eyes were mild, but his smile spoke of things better left unspoken. "A man of my position does not make mistakes, Captain. I make decisions for the greater good and future of humanity. People die everyday, it's the way of life. To save millions of lives, there are bound to be sacrifices. I regret nothing."
The force of Lars's grip threatened to crush his whiskey tumbler but told himself to stay calm. Levente was baiting him, and he wouldn't succumb to it. Not now. Not when the end was drawing near. "I'm sure that is what you believe in, Lieutenant General. But I hope you won't forget what history has taught mankind. There was a phrase from the old era I appreciate greatly. Rome wasn't built in a day but, it was burned in one."
Levente's jaw clenched, his expression slipping to reveal a sinister darkness.
Lars smirked. Try as he might, Levente was never adept at hiding the evil inside him, as if his corporeal body weren't enough to contain it. A part of Lars enjoyed goading the older man.
"Enjoy while you can, Captain." Levente stood, displaying the arrogance he was known to wield. "Change is coming for Ataxia, and whether you like it or not, death is the ultimate victor that marches on. You cannot stand in its way. Good evening, Captain."
Lars didn't bother to watch him leave, draining the rest of his whiskey. Fuck. He needed a smoke. Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and clamped it between his lips, searching for a light.
"Allow me." A flame flickered to life at the end of his cigarette butt.
Taking a puff, Lars glanced up at Kalina. "Thank you."
"I'm glad you're here, Lars. I haven't seen you since the accident. How are you?" she asked amiably, looking chirpy in her bunny costume.
He inhaled a puff. "I'm still the same."
"I hope we can put the past behind us." She set a new glass of whiskey before him. "This is a special blend for you. Enjoy the rest of the evening, Lars. I'll be around if you need anything."
Lars couldn't gauge what Kalina was up to, or maybe he was being overly cautious because guilt still ate him whenever he saw her. Hence, he avoided her. He eyed the whiskey. Oh what the hell, he needed the alcohol to get through this shitty night.
As the hours blend into an endless timeframe, Lars started feeling hot and uncomfortable. He lost track of how much whiskey he had consumed, his eyes slightly unfocused and the growing bulge between his legs told him he was aroused. Fuck. This was what he got for letting his guard down.
A cool hand touched his arm. "Lars, what's wrong? You don't look so well."
He growled at the culprit for his condition. "Kalina, what have you done?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she remarked innocently, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you to a room and help you cool down."
"Get your fucking hands off my man, Kalina!"
The wondrous scent of honey sunshine filled Lars's nostrils and he knew before his eyes saw – "Eira?"
He heard the women arguing in their native tongue. His eyes travelled up miles of bare toned legs, over a tiny little black crotch attached to an hourglass waist and he felt his cock lengthening at the sight of those plump mounds in danger of falling out of the black corset. Like an animal scenting its prey, his muscles coiled, his tall form unfolding as his nostrils flared to breathe in her mouth-watering scent.
"Eira." Her name was a prayer on his lips. "Thank God you're here."
Without warning, he seized her face between his hands and devoured her mouth.