So far, since the beginning of his First Nightmare, all the people Hope had come across were nothing more than mindless people greedy for power. From the annoying cult that he led through the catacombs, to Sector One's group that chased away two of its own people. It was a given that any decent human being would be rare to come by these days.
"..."
'Well, I suppose minus two.' Hope thought.
The boy was decent enough. A scared little thing. Not the kind of boy that was hardened by the world but one that learned to fear the world.
And there was also that one knight from his First Nightmare-
!!!
Hope quickly shook his head as the tangent thought sprung images of the knight.
That was for some reason more sensitive than he thought.
'Ah dammit. Whatever...'
That wasn't important now.
What was important was that these two figures carried guns in their hands and gas masks over their faces.
Some disillusioned thought wanted him to believe that all was well. But of course, with his damn [Black Sheep] Attribute, in which had always lurked in the corners of every stressed thought and situation, this encounter would probably be anything but of smooth sailing as one would say.
Hope stood near the edge of the bank of red flowers as the two men approached, stopping about 100 meters away from him. Although, Hope could see that the pollen didn't fly as loosely towards this side.
One guy was tall, gaunt face, with a buzz-cut, the appearance alone screaming trouble.
And the other was slightly smaller with an appearance of about sixty years old. His eyes seemed to hold less aggression in them.
"Who the hell are you?" The buzz-cut guy said.
Hope restrained himself from frowning.
"Just someone who needs shelter. But this boy-" Hope gestured behind him. "-needs help."
There was pause.
"He is human..." The old man muttered.
Hope blinked.
'Obviously.' Hope thought.
Although, he could understand the man's confusion. Hope was still standing in the crowd of red flowers. Unfazed by the sweet pollen that even they had to cover their faces in caution.
"I am."
"Sorry about the guns, boy," the old man said softly. "Necessary measures I'm afraid-"
"Tch!" The guy sneered. "Like hell. Maybe he's in some fucking disguise like those other mo-"
"Watch your tongue, Kurt." The old man snapped.
"Look at him!" Kurt gestured again with his gun. "He's still awake! If Mave's power didn't work then what the hell is he?"
Kurt continued to glare at Hope. "Now answer properly, smartass. Who the hell are you?"
That seemed a bit of a complicated thing to answer. Although, it didn't seem harmful to answer honestly to some degree. Not that the truth would be retained long enough in their memories.
"A Dreamer." Hope said.
"..."
"You mean a Sleeper, boy?"
"If you guys call it that then sure."
Both figures blinked in surprise. Although, there was still a hint of skepticism in their eyes.
Hope continued. "I have an attribute that makes me resilient to certain enchantments."
Kurt frowned.
"Psh. A Sleeper huh? Alive one at that..."
Hope blinked. 'Was that...disappointment..?'
"But that..." the old man muttered. "...would make sense..." Through the gas mask, his eyes stared at Hope with what could be read as sympathy. It was probably rare for anyone in this city to accomplish their First Nightmare, a doomed fate resulting in ultimately being a Profaned to most.
"Let's bring the poor boys in-"
"No. It could be a damn trap. Remember how the other settlements-"
"Lady Mave would allow it! I'm sure of it."
"She's not here." The guy hissed.
"Then Lady Leda! Think, young man. There is no need for excuses." The old man said firmly.
Hope paused.
Leda? Leda...
The name itself sparked something in his mind as the memories hurriedly streamed and blossomed at their usual unsolicited manner. Whispers from his commanding officers and soldiers mumbled the name like a tale, the noise fogging his ears.
'Mm...It couldn't be her. That wouldn't make sense.'
Hope paused.
'Wait...' Hope frowned at the thought.
"Psh! We can't take anymore strays."
Hope narrowed his eyes. "The boy needs help." Hope said as he walked out of the flowers.
Tink-
Kurt immediately raised his gun. A typical rifle it was. But no Brave Arm emblem it seemed.
"We have to do a search on you." He gestured to Hope's items. "Drop them."
Hope held back a sigh as he knelt down and carefully laid the boy on the asphalt. He then slid the rifle and the backpack off.
"Back away. Arms and legs out."
"This is too much, young man!" The old man shouted.
But Kurt ignored him as he walked over, kicking the rifle further to the side, and lead Hope a few paces away.
Hope started standing with his legs spread shoulder-width apart and arms out. These extreme cautions made sense. Hope wouldn't have welcomed any stranger in a city of lawlessness.
But still...
'How annoying.'
All of it was.
Hope's eyes fell back on the boy as the old man walked over and inspected the boy's condition. The boy looked worriedly thin; color drained from his face and sunken gray eyes made him appear as someone on death's door. He most likely was. Hope had seen that familiar look before. Too often when growing up.
"No fucking sudden moves you got it?" Kurt hissed as he felt through Hope's pockets, patting him down from the front and back.
He then stopped and pulled out a pocketknife.
"This it?"
"Yes." Hope said nonchalantly.
Kurt frowned and placed it in his own pocket. He then walked back in front as he pointed the rifle at him.
"Now what kind of fucking kid with a gun walks around and-"
His voice stopped.
Hope wasn't sure what caused it, but the moment their eyes met, he saw something shift in the guy's eyes. It was the same familiar expression from the boy when they first crossed paths.
Confusion. Fear. Panic.
"Shit-! He is a monster-!"
'Wait-'
The gun's barrel aimed quickly at Hope's face—an inch away from the spot between his eyes.
"Young man! What are you-"
Bang!
A clap of thunder exploded in Hope's ears.
His hand burning as if he were wielding fire.
Both of the other men froze, their eyes widened in shock as they stared at Hope holding the gun's barrel that he redirected at the last moment.
'Ah fucking hell.'
A calm shadow filled Hope's body at that moment as he met the man's panicked gaze again; the gaze of a man who made a grave mistake in acting too bold. And he did.
In one swift motion, Hope yanked the rifle away and barreled it into Kurt's ribs.
He exhaled explosively as his ribs cracked and collapsed to the floor.
Thud!
"Kuheok!""
The guy cradled his stomach, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped for air between long pauses.
Hope tossed aside the gun as if it were an annoying object and walked over towards the old man.
The old man hurriedly braced his firearm up but froze as Hope simply bent down and picked the young boy up as if there wasn't any other threat remaining.
"Old man."
Hope said as he stood.
"The boy needs help."
"...gulp.." His gas mask fogged, and Hope could hear the nervous smack of the old man's lips as he fumbled for words.
And inconveniently, Hope's hand was shaking as he held the boy. The skin brimmed with hot stinging pain as its burned flesh met in contact with the damp fabric.
Cut. Clawed. Now burned.
'I need a first-aid kit.' Hope thought nonchalantly.
"E-erk..." A voice groaned behind. "You..bastard..."
"Shut up."
The old man stepped back helpless, like a lost kid not knowing what to do as a problem laid itself out. His eyes darted to the ground then back at Hope, trying to process the situation of his collapsed comrade and the two strangers.
"I..." His voice cracked. He swallowed again, moistening his dry throat. "I don't know if we..."
It seemed the old man needed some direction.
Hope stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak.
But at the same moment, something flew past him.
Wiiisshh-
Hope's body went rigid as the sound of a hissing wind whipped past him, a deep red blurry movement out of nowhere flashed like a bullet.
The old man's eyes widened with a new face of shock as he looked behind Hope, his gun no longer raised in alarm of any threat.
But an aura pulsed in the air.
Vibrations of it touched the back of Hope's head, down his neck in an intimidating crawl; a heavy presence that could not be missed.
Could not be questioned.
Could not be misunderstood for anything else.
But a Master.
Click...Click...Click...
Heels clicked against asphalt as they approached at a leisure pace, the only sound now echoing in the gray street off of the flanked ruined buildings and abandoned cars and monster corpses towards Hope.
"Tell me, boy." A woman's voice, refined and polished, spoke. "Should I mistake you for a threat for what you caused here?"
Hope paused as he listened to her words.
But instead of giving a proper answer, Hope simply turned around and stared with a blank expression at the imposing woman.
She could not be misunderstood for anyone else either.
"Master Leda." Hope said.
The woman arched an eyebrow as she held her sword up.
Hope looked at the glistening blade that aimed at his neck. Then looked back at her. "How surprising to see you here."