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The fall of the wall—such was the name given to the catastrophic event that changed the course of history. Lucius, now utterly alone, wandered aimlessly into the wilderness, his heart burning with the desire for revenge. The wound in his chest, a gruesome reminder of his ordeal, slowly began to heal, yet the confusion and despair within him only deepened.
Years passed, and Lucius remained a solitary figure in an unforgiving landscape. He survived by sheer willpower, evading the relentless pursuit of wild monsters and hiding from malevolent force wielders. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Through it all, he had scarcely eaten, subsisting on the barest of necessities. Yet, inexplicably, he found himself alive, moving with the eerie persistence of the undead.
Nine years after the fall of the wall, Lucius had come to understand the full extent of his transformation. He was no longer entirely human. His eyes, which glowed ominously in the dark, appeared sightless in the harsh light of day. His once vibrant skin had turned a ghastly pale, a testament to the unnatural force that now animated his body.
During these years of solitude, Lucius faced countless dangers. Wild monsters roamed the lands, their predatory instincts honed by the desolation. Lucius had become adept at evading them, using the shadows and his newfound abilities to stay one step ahead. The force wielders, once protectors of humanity, had become a threat as well. Corrupted by power, they hunted him with ruthless efficiency, seeking to destroy what they could not understand.
Despite the ceaseless dangers and the gnawing hunger that never left him, Lucius endured. His determination to find answers, to understand the nature of his existence, drove him forward. He had become a ghost in a world that had forgotten him, a pale shadow moving through the ruins of civilization.
Lucius ventured into the abandoned mansion, his eyes glowing eerily in the darkness as he lurked through the shadowed halls. He observed the collections and portraits lining the walls, seeking items of utility for his survival and, with hope, a weapon to defend himself. As he entered the grand room, he was met with a chilling sight.
Lying on the floor were several corpses, their stillness a stark contrast to the once-vibrant life within the mansion. Lucius immediately tensed, his senses heightened as he examined the bodies.
"They're still fresh..." he muttered, realizing that he was not alone. The presence of others was palpable, an unseen force lurking nearby.
Without warning, an assailant struck from his blind spot. Lucius instinctively blocked the attack with his bare hand, the force of the blow causing him to bleed. The pain was intense, but he endured it, his arm slowly healing before his eyes. He turned towards the source of the attack, his gaze fierce and unwavering, ready to face whatever threat lay before him.
"My, my... look who we have here?" The voice, dripping with a sinister playfulness, belonged to a boy whose figure slowly emerged from the shadows. As Lucius's gaze sharpened, the moonlight revealed the boy's peculiar appearance.
Lucius hardened his stare and took a cautious step back, scrutinizing the newcomer. The boy had white hair and pale skin, marred by stitches that crisscrossed his face. His visage was further adorned with garish makeup—yellow lipstick, and black and red eyeshadow. He was dressed in an ouji-style outfit, an ensemble that included a long skirt, strikingly unconventional for a boy, paired with colorful stockings, black folded pants, and black and white shoes.
"Well, well, aren't I lucky running into you?" the boy spoke, his voice carrying a mocking lilt.
Lucius gritted his teeth. "Who are you?" he demanded sternly.
The boy paused, then smiled. "Well, that's quite a tone..." He bowed with exaggerated flourish. "Bram, that's what they call me," he said, his voice deepening with menace. "One of the Agnatos Amon..."
Lucius frowned in confusion. "Agnatos Amon...?"
Bram's smile widened. "I suppose you haven't heard of us yet. Soon, we'll be well-known..." With that, Bram lunged at Lucius, a small knife gleaming in his hand.
Lucius dodged the initial strike, but Bram's attacks were relentless, forcing him into a desperate dance of evasion.
"Why aren't you fighting?! You're a force, aren't you?!" Bram taunted, laughing as he pressed his assault.
Lucius deftly dodged and used a standing lamp to parry Bram's relentless assault, gripping it tightly as Bram pressed forward.
"Don't tell me you're scared!" Bram shouted, a grin spreading across his face.
Lucius grunted and, with a surge of strength, shoved the lamp away, forcing Bram back. Yet, before he could catch his breath, Bram lunged again, striking with ruthless precision and stabbing Lucius in the ribs.
Lucius groaned, shoving Bram away. Bram quickly regained his footing, watching with anticipation, hoping to see Lucius succumb.
With a grimace, Lucius pulled the knife from his side, coughing as the wound began to heal slowly before their eyes.
Bram's eyes widened with excitement. "This is getting interesting..."
Lucius panted and glared at Bram. "What do you want?"
Bram smiled slyly. "Nothing really, but I have a question to ask..." He walked closer, his eyes alight with determination. "Are you... one of the Seven Dead Corpses?"
Lucius twitched with confusion. "What nonsense are you saying?"
"There's only one way to find out," Bram smirked, his arm transforming into a short scythe. He attacked, but Lucius immediately ducked and kicked Bram's leg, trying to topple him.
Bram gasped but quickly regained his balance, leaping away with reflexive agility. He glared at Lucius.
Lucius took a step back, observing Bram's transformed arm. "Your force form..." he muttered.
"So now you're curious, huh?" Bram chuckled as he stormed forward, pressing the attack. He pinned Lucius down and, to Lucius's horror, a scorpion emerged from Bram's open mouth.
Lucius grunted, choking Bram and pushing him away, shivering with revulsion at the grotesque display of Bram's capabilities.
Lucius took a step back. "What the hell was that?"
"I'm merely demonstrating my force form," Bram smiled. "I can do whatever an insect can do... anything..."
Lucius huffed as Bram glanced toward the window. "I suppose I've spent too much time with you. It's rather difficult to kill you now, so perhaps... next time." Bram transformed his right arm into a mass of insect thorns and shot them at the window, preparing to leave.
Lucius grunted and grabbed Bram by the waist, refusing to let him escape. "Tell me what you know! You mentioned the Seven Dead Corpses and Agnatos Amon..."
Bram stared at Lucius in surprise, then used his insect abilities to release pheromones that forced Lucius to loosen his grip. "You're an eager one, I'll give you that... your eyes, your skin, and your hair... they tell me you're one of them," Bram smiled.
"You should consider yourself fortunate that I have no intention of killing you..." Bram stood at the edge of the broken window, blew a mocking kiss, and let himself fall from the mansion.
Lucius's eyes widened in anger as he ran after Bram, but his presence had already vanished.
"One of them..." Lucius muttered. He took a deep breath, pondering the recent events, and then decided to leave the mansion behind.
To be continued -