Note: This is a re-edited chapter (because I felt there were many unsatisfactory elements to it). I've made changes here and there, but the flow remained mostly the same.
The length, on the other hand...let's just say I felt like I couldn't cut them apart into chapters.
In any case, the next chapter will be coming soon (assuming I don't slack off too much or get busy).
***
The carriage continually shook violently, perhaps from the clash between powerful auras. In such a seemingly narrow space, it felt as if the carriage could turn over just about any second. If one were to witness it directly, one would wonder how such a delicate-looking interior hasn't been utterly destroyed and pierced through already.
And the constant tumultuous resonance only serves to further that statement.
Nonetheless, none of that affected a single individual - a boy with now messy hair and sparkling golden eyes. In fact, as he stared at the lifeless unconscious body of an unknown peer, he remained calm and unshaken. To say he had unmatched concentration would have been an understatement...if that wasn't the furthest from the truth, that is.
[Kill him.]
His hand twitched. His eyes trembled. It certainly wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time he heard that voice.
"Why?"
[You'll regret it if you don't. I'm just making it easier for you.]
Ever since the fight between that monstrous girl and the monster started, a voice has been whispering into his head. It has been trying to push him to kill the guy in front of him, stressing that it's for his sake. For whatever reason, it seemed adamant with its words, refusing to elaborate further.
'Tch...'
And yet he felt compelled to believe it...as if it was his own guts telling him to do so.
...It's a huge pain that he has always trusted his guts too.
'...Just what is exactly easier?'
Killing another human is never a simple task, especially for the masses who indulge in normalcy and peacefulness. The time of war where mindless bloodshed and death were once common have long come to pass, giving way to progress and preservation. Killing was no longer a justifiable act, but a crime done for one's gain.
And that was only the tip of the iceberg.
People may easily trample upon others, disregarding their livelihood and possibly destroying their lives, but that's only because most of them don't share a bond. Some may have no qualms about their victim, but most would take a further step back when there's a connection between both sides.
Humans are social creatures, and no matter how hard one denies it, one way they (or rather, their "self") survive is by treasuring and maintaining these connections.
As such, anything that threatens to sever the tied strings in half is often faced with hesitation and desperation.
Of course, the connection might not break off completely, but something is certain to be lost. Bonds will remain, but not the other end who upholds them after all.
Having been raised in an impoverished yet loving community, Harry lived a life detached from the idea of taking another's life. Sure, he might beat someone up badly without mercy if they pissed him off enough, but that's it. The thought of strangling someone's neck, stabbing someone in the heart, cutting off their head, etc...has always been far-fetched if not impossible.
He might crush an ant or butcher a chicken alive to cook a meal, but killing a human? That's just a big NO, no matter if they're a stranger, a despicable criminal, or someone he knew very well.
...But before he knew it, he was getting convinced by his guts. Killing was supposed to be off the table, but now he was seriously considering it instead of refusing it outright.
In front of him was a stranger...but not just any stranger, it was a peer of his...and a peer who seemed to know him somewhat.
Killing a full-on stranger is hard, but it's still much easier than one who knows you...and even tried to shield you from incoming encounters. That alone proved that they cherished you in some way and that classifying them as a mere stranger would be trivializing their feelings and efforts.
Unknowingly, a little bond has formed between the two of them.
'Just what...should I do, father?'
While his mother was the one who showed him compassion and love, his father was the opposite. As a man born and survived the crueler and darker side of the slum, he was the one who taught Harry how to fight and how to lead a life surrounded by deception, despair, and even death.
At the end of it all, he found himself lucky to have been born in the brighter side of the slum...and this was probably the only time he had wished the opposite. If he had been more used to death, maybe he could have been able to make a more resolute stance on the matter.
[Please. It's for your and his own good.]
Despite being monotonous, there was a certain bitterness and desperation behind the voice. It urged him to kill, and yet that was not based on enmity but on pity.
It made him more curious about who the voice was, what possible relationship could the stranger before him and it had, and how all of that was related to his own good.
Twitch
As Harry fell into deep thought, the stranger's body twitched in the corner of his eyes, surprising him. It was like witnessing a dead person come back to life, which made his heart jump a little.
[It seems time is running out. I guess it was unfair to force this onto you, so I'll do it. Sorry, but don't blame me too much.]
'Wha-'
Suddenly, everything around him became dark. He couldn't sense anything anymore.
'F*ck! What are you doing with my body? Who are you? Why are you doing this?'
Desperate, Harry smashed his hand onto the "ground", which only slipped through as if there was no ground in the first place.
[Do you really wish to see? I'd recommend not, but it's your choice.]
The voice came from behind, making Harry turn his head around. There, a figure shrouded in mist stood, wearing clothes that seemed...reminiscent of his father's?
"...Who are you?"
[A fragment of regret...A wish emerged from the deepest part of a single "self"...a selfless "trace" embedded for selfish means...and the collective's desire to overturn destiny and achieve salvation...That's what "we" are.]
"...What?"
[That might be a bit confusing, but you don't need to understand, at least not now. You only need to trust my decision, that's all. I'm doing what's best for you.]
Harry's eyebrows twitched, annoyed at the absurdity of the voice. 'Condescending', he thought.
"That again? I SERIOUSLY don't see what's good with killing him! Why are you rambling on and on about doing what's good for me, but not explaining at all?"
[That's exactly why. The essence of having to make a choice is that humans can never truly see what's best for them. That's fine because no one knows what the future holds, and grabbing onto the certain present, even if it will inevitably yield regret, is what human nature has always been doing. It's what made explaining rather hard and most of the time, useless. You can't tell a caring husband to kill his current loving wife just because her future affair will ruin his life forever, no? However...What if one does know and see that future for themselves? What if...one objectively grasps that future like the back of one's hand?]
"You don't say..."
[Most would jump at the chance to make the best decision for themselves. However, with how the fate of all humans is intertwined thanks to the workings of the Subconscious, a better decision will always come at a worse cost for another. That's the absolute law of Equilibrium.]
Equilibrium? Subconscious? What were those terms really referring to?
Thanks to having read many books on different topics in his free time, it wasn't the first time he came upon similar ideas. Nonetheless, he at most only has a vague grasp of them, as these debates served no use in helping him find jobs and make money.
The logic about how decisions can indirectly impact others, on the other hand, that he can get behind. It was basically the butterfly effect...or something similar in theory.
But all of that still doesn't answer questions at all. It just raised more of them.
Why him? Was he some special existence that humanity needed to salvage, whose future and "good" can contribute to salvation?
At least, having lived a mostly ordinary, insignificant 17 years in the slums of Melheim, it was hard to believe that was the case.
[It's fine if it sounds rather confusing. You're not supposed to get it the first time you hear about it, after all. Just know that, out of all, the path you take will decide the course of all humanity. And I'm here to get rid of variables that may detract you from the best path possible. That said, trust what you will. It doesn't matter.]
His question...was answered? All this time, he was this special existence whose sole decision could significantly impact the world?
It still sounded bullshit no matter how much he thought about it.
He didn't have some hidden tragic backstories, nor was he left behind by some mysterious parents to be taken in by his current one.
He didn't meet some hidden master who recognized his potential and gave him pointers.
His father, who taught him about Ether and how to fight, wasn't some legend of the backstreet but a common runt of a wiped-out crime organization who was just lucky enough to learn a little and get away.
And even he only considered Harry's talent to be sufficient, not too special but not too shabby. The same went for Astrea Academy.
Other than that, he hadn't found himself to be specifically good at anything, having judged and been judged during his various jobs.
He might have been reading a bit too much fantasy stuff, but shouldn't "specialness" be something hinted at the beginning?
[A bit much to take in? We can continue another time since there's not much time left either way.]
"...Fine. Let's just say I'm that guy." Harry bitterly stated, aware of his need to continue the conversation despite his doubts. "I can understand that 'certain sacrifices must be made for the better good', but are you saying he is also a variable that needs to be killed off?"
"He" was someone he barely knew. That didn't mean "he" didn't mean something to him, as that single deliberate act of shielding and telling them to run was enough to shake his heart. And he wasn't about to heartlessly cast him off to die an unjust death just because it was for his own good.
[You caught on well. There's not much more to be said. The more he influences you, the harder it will be for you to kill him later. Humans need to struggle to grow, and the tougher the struggle, the more rewarding surpassing it gets. With that said, each one of them can also potentially lead one down the wrong path, and it just so happens he is such a complex, encompassing factor. He is a dangerous variable, and yet he doesn't deserve it.]
An idea came to Harry's head. An impossibility that needs confirmation.
"What if...we try setting him on the right path whilst avoiding Equilibrium? If he can influence me in a significant way, why not just make him good?"
[Mistake not, an idealistic future means not the best, as "perfect" is not a concept applicable to the flawed. Even if the strings of fate are tied tightly to each other, that still doesn't mean one's best will be another's good, let alone best. The Equilibrium is all-encompassing, but that is the exact aspect that made certain things unfair. And as unfortunate as it is, the various futures have judged him to be detrimental and unnecessary to your future, no matter which direction he took.]
It was still foul, the fact that "he" had to be killed just because the flow of destiny doesn't allow for better changes. It's as if the world hates humans, always forcing unreasonable demands onto them and making them accept them without a proper choice.
Just why? Why did it have to be this way?
It's perfectly within human nature to wish to be the special one, but if they truly knew what came with it, would they still think the same?
"No. I refuse to believe it. All this elaborate shitty story...it's just an excuse to convince me to kill him for your own goal, right? FUCK OFF."
Everything seemed too good to be true. All this buttering him up to be a special existence, backed by the identity of the "Will to achieve salvation", as well as doing what's best for him, and the inevitability of fate...the pieces just fell into place too conveniently.
And so he denied it all.
"I REFUSE TO LET YOU DO AWAY WITH HIM LIKE THIS! NOT OVER MY DEAD BODY!"
Harry stood up and dove at the figure, who dispersed into mist and reappeared behind him.
In that brief moment, he has resolved himself.
Even if he might regret it, even if he is just in denial, he believes there is at least more value in things he can see rather than that he can only hear about.
Humans have always been shaping the future with the present, not the present with the future.
Just like how [Perfect] doesn't apply to the flawed, the "best" path is just a pipe dream of the delusional.
[You wish to defy me...and face unnecessary hardship? Why deny the straight road to happiness and salvation to all...knowing you may collapse at any time under the inevitability of fate?]
He, who has always faced the harshness of life head-on, was never one to indulge in the easy way out. No matter if it was true or not, he refused to give up without lifting a single finger and fighting for himself.
"Someone once said fate's might is an illusion, a wall we create to justify all that we thought is impossible to change. That these feeble hands, no matter how insignificant they seem, are fully capable of altering fate and weaving countless possibilities.
As we speak, isn't your being here proof that we can change the course in a favorable manner?
So, if I'm special like you claimed, shouldn't I have more than just 'these feeble hands' to spin the wheel my way?"
[...How admirable. Your conviction remains steadfast. It seems reasoning with you is impossible. It is truly regrettable, but it is what made you, "you" after all. Well, if you're so intent on facing fate, "we" don't have a choice, do "we"?]
The figure turned around and trailed off as it slowly dispersed into the darkness.
Before completely vanishing, it turned its head back, revealing a familiar handsome face with swaying blond fringes. Its eyes were covered by mist, hanging above a mischievous grin.
It was a shocking sight to Harry.
[...Prove it. That your conviction is stronger than "ours".]
"Wait-"
In an instant, the darkness shattered like glass.
***
'!'
Opening his eyes, Harry found himself back in reality once again.
'Just what was that?'
It seemed he could control his body again, but most of it was numb because it sat in place for too long.
The sound of violent clashing rang in his ear so he turned his head, and sure enough, the fight was still ongoing. It wasn't looking very good but he couldn't help them either way. There was something else he must do.
'I must get away from him.'
Harry tried his best to stand up and move, but to no avail.
'Move!'
It flinched, fueling his hope.
'Gugh! Almost there...'
Just as he was about to stand up, a voice spoke, forcing his body to slump down.
[How truly regrettable.]
He thought he was in control of the body, but that was only an illusion. Both of his hands began moving without his input, and he couldn't stop them at all.
'No!'
Letters in white began to dance around his right hand, forming a short blade in pure white energy that he clenched tightly while his left hand wrapped its palm around his right.
However, before he knew it, both of his hands quivered in pain as blood vessels busted indiscriminately. Blood trickled down onto the ground as his hand struggled to even hold the blade properly.
[Tch. It's still way too early. There's only one chance.]
It was the sharpest blade he had ever seen, seemingly capable of cutting through anything he wished, and yet it carried a gentle flow unlike any. Blades that kill are often laced with bloodlust meant to create violent deaths, but this one felt as if it was to send one into an eternal peaceful rest.
His vision soon became blurry.
'Tears?'
Tears were welling up in his eyes. An unexpected sense of sorrow hit him.
[I'm sorry, my dear friend. Seeing you like this, I can't help but wish to give you a proper sendoff. However, this is for the best.]
Seeing June's body twitched, he hesitated a little. Alas, it only strengthened his grip on the blade, ignoring the pain that messed with Harry's mind.
'Agh!'
Harry attempted control again, but only his finger managed to move a little, which the figure very much ignored.
[That's right. This is for the best. This way, you'll be free from this cruel world, this vicious perpetuating cycle that tortured us countless times. This way, I'll be relieved knowing you didn't go painfully in my arms. Please, forget about me and live happily in your new life, OK?]
Like a guillotine, the blade swung down with resolution, aiming for the body's head. With all his mental power, Harry concentrated all his might on his right arm in an effort to pull it back.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAA...."
The swinging blade, thought to be unstoppable, halted mid-air like a miracle.
Nonetheless, an effort worth praising doesn't always bore ripe fruit.
[The inevitable remains...inevitable.]
"ARGHHHHHHHHHH!"
Harry felt his muscles tearing apart as the arm bypassed his hold and flew. It was truly the end for "him"...or so they thought.
Stab
[!]
'!'
At unprecedented speed, "his" hand rose up, stopping the blade with ease. It was stabbed and yet showed no sign of pain or struggle.
A streak of blood fell through as the hand folded onto the blade, holding it firmly in place.
"Ouch."