David's consciousness faded away.
The system which had burrowed deep within his heart, burst out once again. This time, instead of focusing in a specific direction, the tendrils shrunk down, thinner and thinner.
Thin purple veins appeared all over David's body, and if one were to look at his skin with a microscope, they would see the tiniest purple hairs infiltrating every single one of his cells.
All throughout his body, the system was integrating itself.
Moving through his body, it repaired all the damage it found. Healing the damage from the explosion, the damage the system had done, and even the tiniest of micro injuries built up over his life.
His skin grew pale, almost see through, and he grew ever so slightly, as the system adjusted his proportions to be perfectly suited for combat, his bone and muscles becoming more dense.
His halo of light brown hair fell away, deep purple, almost black hair growing to replace it.
The only part that remained unchanged was David's features. His pale skin and dark hair added to the unchanged beautiful, almost elf like features, the thin eyebrows and lips, and narrow eyes.
This transformation only took a few moments before David's consciousness returned.
He opened his eyelids, instead of his warm brown eyes, was an empty void.
Deep black pupils flecked with purple now stared out into the world, but within them was still a hint of emotion.
David looked up to where Brogan had been standing, and opened his mouth in horror, his arms falling weakly to his sides.
There, standing proudly, was Brogan.
A frozen grin on his face, blood pouring down his body, his severed arms still ready to attack.
An enormous gash had been carved out of his torso, from his right should, all the way across to where his heart would be, was an empty space.
'This can't be real.' David's mind raced, surely the artifact was making him see things, maybe he was still having a vision during the transformation, maybe this was a test, maybe, just maybe, this whole nightmarish day was a dream.
But deep down, David knew, that this was reality, the transformation hadn't only improved his body, it had also sharpened his mind. Brogan was gone, and if he didn't act fast Cherie would be too.
[User Backstory Event Unlocked: The Death of a Mentor.]
The cold voice spoke and a loud ding sounded out in David's head, and a blue window with the text ''The Death of a Mentor" appeared in front of him.
Below the text was a video of all of David's fondest memories of Brogan.
'This is sick! STOP!' David screamed out at the system, as the video continued to play.
[Unfortunately User, you were unconscious during the key moment of the Backstory Event.]
David tried closing his eyes, but it was no use, the video continued to play.
Horrified, David watched as the High Orc roared in triumph, brandishing his axe to the sky, while the others orcs cheered.
Then, the battleaxe came swinging down, and David couldn't help but shed tears as he watched Brogan die.
[User, the Bloodletting is a sacred ceremony, where only one can survive. There was no saving Brogan.]
'Then why the hell did you make me think I could do something, why did you make me agree to whatever this is!' David could only feel a wild swirl of anguish and horror. What the hell was inside his body?
What could it do?
[Rest assured User, I will only intervene to preserve your safety, and to ensure correct storyline development.]
'You! There's something twisted with you! This is my life! Not some story you can manipulate as you wish!' The blue window had disappeared.
David ran toward Xavier, his straightsword in his hand.
Both Cherie and Xavier were in shock. Cherie was still slumped on the ground, and Xavier's revolver only hung loosely near Cherie's head.
This was David's chance. He gripped the handle of his blade tight, ready to strike, his steps were even lighter than before, there was no way Xavier would notice him coming.
"They said... They said it would only be you. They'd take you away, the danger would be gone, and we'd all go home free." Xavier's voice shook, as he choked up with emotion half speaking to himself, half speaking to Cherie.
"They. Don't make deals. They make demands." Cherie hissed, lifting herself, the sadness gone from her eyes, now filled with rage at Xavier, her slumped body hiding one of her black shortswords.
"You killed him. This is your fault." Anything that would rock Xavier would be an opportunity for her, Cherie picked her words to do as much damage as possible. She gathered her strength, ready to leap up at a moments notice, waiting for Xavier's revolver to drop just a little more.
David's sword swept through the air, heading right for Xavier's neck. Hearing the slight whisper Xavier turned towards the source of the noise, his eyes locking onto the pale, ghostly figure, that looked just like David.
Stab
Cherie launched herself up at the distracted Xavier, her shortsword piercing clean through his the leather armor that protected his chest.
Slice
At the same time, David's sword sliced into Xavier's neck, blood spurting from the wound, showering up into the sky.
Xavier's last sight was David's dark eyes, filled with anger and betrayal. To him, it was as though death had taken on David's form and come for him.
Though his mouth formed words, perhaps an apology, only a trickle of blood left Xavier's lips. On and on, the orcs continued their chanting, celebrating their marvelous Bloodletting.
The next moment, both David and Cherie's eyes widened, as Xavier's body fell, realizing that together, the two of them had killed one of their closest friends.
"Cherie." A faint whisper came from David's mouth, realizing that there was a chance for the two of them to escape. So wrapped up in their ceremony, the orcs hadn't noticed that Xavier was no longer guarding Cherie.
"I, I." Stuttering, Cherie struggled to form words, there was so much she needed to say to David. About what happened, about Brogan, about Xavier, and about herself.
"Later." Grabbing her hand, David pulled her up the hill, away from the water, and up the hill, the two of them running for Coppervein.
Behind the pair of them, two residents of Coppervein remained, one a hero, one a traitor.
"PRAISE TO GRO'HOSH'KAR!'" As the David and Cherie disappeared off in to the distance, the Orcs chanted on.
The blood that had spilled from Brogan and the High Orc, covering the ground around them, began to swirl, the sign of acceptance from their deity,
"Glory to Gurrul!" They chorused, praising their leader, who grinned, baring his enormous fangs, letting out roar, one of celebration, mixed with elation at being alive.
And though no orc would ever outwardly admit to even imagining defeat, Gurrul had recognized that had Brogan not been focused on delaying the fight, the outcome might've been different.
"GLORY!" Gurrul echoed back at them, looking at their adoring faces, this, this could lead to something amazing, perhaps he would even be able to lead his own tribe one day.
In a final moment of respect, orc to orc, Gurrul reached out to Brogan's pony tail, working the twist of metal that held his hair free, and threading it into his own thick braid.
Now that the blood had disappeared, and with his hair falling around his rugged face, it seemed as though Brogan might be the statue of some long forgotten hero, the arms broken off with time, ravaged by some invading army, still standing proud.
"Well, well, well." A strange voice echoed out amongst the orcs, it had a strange quality, it felt as though it wrapped all around you, invading your very skin.
"I knew I couldn't leave it you fools." Now the voice dripped with disgust, and though the sun was still high in the sky, to the orcs it seemed as though it was the depths of the night.
"You had one job, what was it? Huh?" A cloud of dark gray smoke formed a pillar in the center of the orcs, right in front of Gurrul, a thick strand of it wrapping around his neck.
A question had been asked, but none of the orcs answered, their eyes were wide in fear, looking in horror at the swirling pillar of smoke.