Michael sat slumped at the bar, his drink swirling idly in his hand. Lumian was leaning against the counter beside him, his expression was neutral but his mind worked furiously.
Michael turned to him, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. "Tell me the truth, Lumian. Are you really my friend?" He asked again
Lumian held his gaze without flinching, his voice steady and calm. "Of course I am. I've always been your friend."
Michael continued to stare at him, as though trying to pierce through the layers of Lumian's mind. His gaze was intense, suspicious. After what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
"I'm sorry," Michael muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "I shouldn't have doubted you."
Lumian waved off the apology, his tone light. "Don't worry about it. You're going through a lot right now. It's understandable."
Michael took a long sip of his drink, his shoulders sagging. "I don't know what's happening these days, Lumian. Things just don't feel right anymore."
Lumian leaned in slightly, his expression turning concerned. "What's wrong? What's this about your wife having an affair? You two just got married, didn't you?"
Michael groaned, rubbing his temples. "I don't know, man. All I know is what I saw. She was outside our house last night, hugging some guy. It wasn't just a friendly hug either. It was… intimate."
He downed the rest of his drink, slamming the glass on the counter. "Maybe I'm not enough for her. Maybe I've never been enough. I don't know. I just feel like… like I'm losing her."
Lumian saw his opening. Michael's emotions were a storm of anger, insecurity, and doubt—fertile ground for corruption! He placed a hand on Michael's shoulder, his grip firm but seemingly reassuring.
"Michael," Lumian began, his voice low and measured. "Sometimes, people aren't who they seem to be. Not until you really get close to them."
Michael glanced at him, his brow furrowing.
'Corruption'
"Think about it," Lumian continued, subtly channeling his corruption skill. "She's been acting strange lately, hasn't she? Distant, secretive. And now you catch her with another man? That doesn't happen out of nowhere."
Michael's jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists. "You think… you think she's really cheating on me?"
"I'm not saying anything for sure," Lumian said, though his tone was deliberately suggestive. "But if the signs are there… Keeping secrets. Acting cold. Suddenly developing new habits. It all points to something."
Michael's mind spiraled, the corruption amplifying his thoughts. Every moment Angela had been distant, every time she told him she came home late due to extra hours at the gym or seemed distracted, now felt like undeniable proof of betrayal.
"Maybe she doesn't see you as the man you used to be," Lumian added, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Maybe she thinks you're not enough anymore."
Michael's face darkened, his breath coming in short bursts. Anger, frustration, and a sense of betrayal coursed through him like a tidal wave.
Lumian leaned closer, his voice firm. "As a man, there comes a time when you have to put your foot down. You can't let this kind of thing slide. You have to cut the problem at its root before it grows out of control."
Michael nodded slowly, his eyes hardening. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I can't let this go on."
He turned to Lumian, his expression a mixture of gratitude and resolve. "Thank you. You're a true friend, Lumian. Thank you for keeping it real with me."
Lumian smiled, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for."
Inwardly, Lumian was laughing. Michael was dancing perfectly to his tune, every word and action manipulated to push him further into the abyss.
'Fool'
Michael signaled the bartender for another drink, this time opting for something stronger. He downed the liquor in one gulp and slammed the empty glass on the counter.
"There's something I need to tell you," Michael said suddenly, his voice quieter but laced with tension.
Lumian raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? What is it?"
Michael hesitated, swirling the remnants of his drink before setting the glass down. "It's been weighing on my mind for a while now. I think… I think I need to tell you about a certain night."
Lumian's heart skipped a beat, though he maintained a calm exterior. His mind raced. This was it. The moment he'd been waiting for.
"What night are you talking about?" Lumian asked, his tone carefully measured to hide his excitement.
Michael looked at him, his expression unreadable. "You'll understand when I tell you. It's… something I've never told anyone before. But since it's clear that you have my best interests at heart now, I feel telling you would be a wise decision"
Lumian leaned in slightly, his focus entirely on Michael.
The pub's low lights casted shadows across Michael's face as he leaned in closer to Lumian. His voice dropped to a whisper, a weight behind his words.
"Do you remember that 'other Lumian' I told you about?" Michael asked, his tone hesitant but deliberate.
Lumian tilted his head, feigning thought. "The terrible one that died?"
Michael nodded. "Yes. That one."
Lumian shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "I remember. So, what about him?"
Michael's gaze flickered, as though searching for the courage to continue. He took a deep breath and said, "He didn't die. At least, not how you think he did."
Lumian raised an eyebrow, feigning mild confusion. "What do you mean?"
Michael leaned in further, his voice barely audible over the pub's background noise. "I was the one who killed him."
For a fleeting moment, Lumian let surprise flash across his face before quickly masking it. He knew this already—Michael had indeed killed the 'other Lumian.' Or at least, Michael thought he had
Still, he played his part perfectly. "You… killed him?" he said, his voice laced with just the right amount of shock.
Michael watched him closely, narrowing his eyes. "You don't seem that surprised."
Lumian held his composure, shaking his head slightly. "I am surprised. Just… processing, I guess. It's not every day someone admits to killing a person."
Michael sat back, taking another swig of his drink. "He wasn't a person," he said bitterly, his grip tightening around the glass. "Don't call him that. He was a monster wearing human skin."
'Ouch, my feelings' Lumian deadpanned in his mind
Lumian nodded slowly, as though trying to absorb the weight of Michael's confession. "I see. And what do you expect me to think about all this?"
Michael looked at him, his expression a mix of guilt and justification. "I don't know. I guess I just needed to tell someone."
Lumian placed a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder. "Listen, Michael, if you're asking for my opinion, here it is: If what you're saying is true, then you did what you had to do. Maybe it wasn't right, but it sounds like it was necessary. If he really was as terrible as you say…"
Michael interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. "Terrible doesn't even begin to describe him. He was a threat to everything, to everyone. He needed to be stopped."
Lumian nodded again, his tone gentle. "Then maybe, in the grand scheme of things, you did more good than harm. Sometimes, the world isn't black and white. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices."
Michael's grip on his glass loosened slightly, his tension easing. "Yeah… yeah, maybe you're right."
Michael hesitated, his brows furrowing as though debating whether to continue. He exhaled deeply. "But that's not all."
Lumian tilted his head, his interest piqued. "What do you mean?"
Michael leaned in again, his voice dropping even further. "Technically… I didn't kill him."
Lumian's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone carefully curious. "What do you mean? If you didn't kill him, then who did?"
Michael looked around the room as if to ensure no one was listening. He leaned closer, his breath brushing against Lumian's ear. "Voltstrike killed him."
Lumian leaned back, faking surprise. "Voltstrike? The hero? Why would he kill someone? I thought heroes weren't supposed to kill people."
Michael let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Voltstrike didn't have a choice. The other Lumian… he was a threat to everything Voltstrike cared about. He pushed him too far."
Lumian's expression turned inquisitive. "How do you know all this?"
Michael hesitated again, the tension building. Then, after a long pause, he leaned in and whispered directly into Lumian's ear, "I know because I am Voltstrike."
Lumian froze for a fraction of a second, his mind racing. Of course, he already knew this. He'd known from the moment he first crossed paths with Michael. But now he had to act as though this revelation had caught him completely off guard.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes widening. "You're… Voltstrike? Michael, are you serious?"
Michael nodded solemnly. "I've kept it a secret for a long time. I couldn't tell anyone. But now… I just needed to let it out. I needed someone to know."
Lumian let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Wow. I… I don't even know what to say. That's huge, Michael."
Michael chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, it doesn't feel so huge when your life's falling apart."
Lumian placed a hand on Michael's shoulder again, this time with a more sympathetic expression. "You've been carrying a lot, haven't you? But hey, I'm here now. You don't have to carry it alone."
Inside, Lumian was reveling in the moment. Michael's trust was deepening, his defenses crumbling. Everything was falling into place, just as Lumian had planned.
'Yes you drunken fool, you gave me exactly what I needed. Your time is almost up'