Leon was, by all definitions, absent. Dead.
Unaware of himself, yet painfully aware of everything else. He was everywhere and nowhere, his thoughts stretching and contracting like ripples across an endless sea. Frozen, passive, yet tethered to something vast and incomprehensible.
But in the stillness, there were moments—flashes—where he was pulled into others' lives.
In one vision, there was a familiar wizened old man with a long grey beard—the Headmaster. His face was one of pity and boundless compassion. Always. He was stiff, unmoving. The person his eyes were attached to shifted, as if feeling Leon's presence.
The next was a world cloaked in haze, where the air itself felt dense and suffocating. Leon's perspective wavered as if he stumbled. He glimpsed the slender hands of a girl—young and frail. The silence around her was so profound it pressed against his awareness.
The third vision was of a flower, its delicate petals unfolding in quiet defiance of the world—it was blooming. For a moment, Leon felt the beauty of its existence. Then, it was crushed by a hand, the vision dissolving into black.
After that, the fragments came rapidly, like shards of a shattered mirror. Faces, voices, places—indecipherable and fleeting. He strained to hold on but was too distant, too weak to make sense of them.
The stillness returned. The formless, timeless state that consumed him. He became a part of it again, indistinguishable from the unconscious world around him.
And then he heard something within the world of endless darkness and ever-changing lights: ...omplete]
* * *
By the time Garthem came to, it was nighttime. Tanya's sobs filled the quiet as she cradled Selia and Garthem in her arms.
"Tanya.. w–where is Felix?" His head was throbbing but he needs to know what happened.
In the darkness of the house, he got up and turned to where Tanya pointed.
Felix lay on the cobbled roads, staring at the night sky.
After whispering words of comfort to Tanya and pressing a kiss to her forehead, Garthem staggered toward his son. As he walked, he too looked up. He saw the stars, the moon, and the arc.
It was a clear and beautiful night sky. The otherworldly colors of the cosmos were visible tonight. Painting over the black with purple and yellow.
He lowered himself beside Felix, following his gaze to the stars. The celestial dance above seemed almost too beautiful for the turmoil within him. "...I'm sorry."
Felix did not flinch, his calm expression unmoving, "For what, father?"
"If I had.. let him speak, he would have left before you reached home." Garthem was calmly taking in the view now as well.
Felix's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "You heard him father, he would have searched for me."
Garthem was quiet for a while. He laid down as well. "I don't know what he wants with Leon, but–"
"He is afraid."
Felix continued, "The king personally came and decided to... because he fears what Leon, I, and you can do." Felix said seriously, now aware of how his father Disintegrated.
Felix continued, "I always wondered why you father, of all people... did not decide to become an Overcomer."
Garthem was talented, more than his soul suggested. And so was his father.
He replied, "You're right. It's different."
They kept watching the slightly moving sky, until Garthem got up to comfort Tanya and the awoken Selia.
Felix was left behind with his thoughts.
'Leon will survive. He must… Little prince will change this place...'
He raised his palm, as if trying to snatch the sky, his brown eyes hardened like they never had before, "I will overcome."
He clenched the raised palm, 'And then find him.'
* * *
In the darkness of the collapsed tunnel, sounds began to fill the place. Water was winding through the gaps between the debris.
Leon's sudden presence disturbed the stillness, shifting the rocks around him and sending a ripple through the pooling water. But he didn't move. He let the world settle, let himself sink into the darkness.
The darkness was similar, so he pretended to be a part of it. To not disturb the ways of the world. Leia's corpse was in front of him, and like it, he was not moving.
As the water slowly reached his face, he wondered if he was still alive. Within that nothingness he was still, unbreathing—would it matter if he drowned?
It reached his mouth, his nose, his eyes. He remained submerged, the world around him quiet. For a moment, he believed he was simply part of it all, a fragment of the endless expanse of existence.
But as the seconds stretched, something shifted. A thought emerged, tenuous and fragile: 'I can think.'
And then finally, he remembered. That his... family was still fine. 'Felix, Tanya, Selia, Garthem.'
He willed himself to move, and so he did. Slowly, he pushed the rocks behind him to move in front of him. The water made the rocks seem less heavy.
He was able to turn around and look south. He kicked his feet and propelled forward, leaving the debris behind. The familiar creature was nowhere to be found, so he kept moving.
He tried to manipulate the water to move around him more freely... but they wouldn't.
He tried to summon light to see in the dark water, but he couldn't.
He was unable to manipulate the Laws.
And then he realized something—he was not breathing.
He paused in the slowly moving water, frozen once again. 'I am dead.'
* * *
Emerging by the base of the eastern Sentinel, Leon was finally able to see. No more were the sounds of battle. The clear sky and eerie silence reflecting the calmness within him.
He just thought of moving towards Kindrall, when he was found by a familiar person: Hallen, his geography professor.
"L–Leon?" He quickly gained his composure. "Leon! You look terrible, come with me, the Institute is safe now." He held his hand out.
Leon did not take it, he only wanted to go home.
Hallen replied with a sigh, "It's fine, but you shouldn't go like that. It wouldn't do good for your family if they saw you like this. You can leave after cleaning up."
The man was uncharacteristically despondent, no doubt his usual liveliness was affected by the chaos of yesterday.
Leon accepted, and followed behind him. They walked past the gate, and towards the Academy.
Throughout this, Leon was quiet. Time seemed to pass by so quickly yet so slowly. The experience took its toll in him, he felt numb.
He entered his room, not even questioning why he wasn't sent to the infirmary. Not even remembering how he disappeared, and that he Integrated.
He took a bath, cleaning himself of his scabs. The dried blood was washed in the tunnel, his wounds have healed.
After clothing himself, he left his room. Without informing anyone, he left the Academy. The gate guards were unsure if they should let him leave, until someone told them to allow it.
Leon was making his way towards Kindrall, Oran seemed unrecognizable in this silence.
Immediately, he felt danger—he jumped out of instinct, his calmness didn't waver.
There he was again. The tribesman of Tipun, beside the man stood the one that brought him back—Hallen.
Underneath Leon was another vile beast. Black as the sky, and as erratic as flowing water. Their presences woke Leon up out of his stupor.
He thought that he was in danger, he was completely unable to wield the Laws. He could only rely on his Stats.
Leon realized that once again, he was betrayed. And it made him scowl. This distraction was all the beast needed to land its first strike.
The beast lunged, its sinewy black body rippling like liquid shadow. It moved with chaotic grace, erratic and unyielding—but it wasn't as formless as the one that... killed them.
It had seven limbs, a neck, and a head.
Leon's instincts flared, his body compressing to resist the lunge.
He landed a few feet away, with pieces of his clothes torn and drops of blood landing with him.
The tribesman of Tipun and Hallen stood atop a branch nearby, watching the encounter unfold, their faces unreadable.
The tribesman's quiet presence felt heavy, like a shadow looming over the scene. Leon's gaze flickered toward them briefly, then back to the beast.
'Focus.'
The beast came again, its jagged limbs slashing downward. Leon sidestepped the first strike, his feet skidding on the gravelly ground. The second swipe came fast—too fast. It grazed his side, tearing through his tunic further and leaving a shallow cut that stung sharply.
Leon grimaced but didn't falter. His breathing steadied, his thoughts calculated. 'I can't use the Laws. I'll have to rely on myself.'
The beast snarled, its voice a low, guttural rumble. Its eyeless face turned toward him, its movements growing more erratic. Leon studied it, noting the way its attacks flowed—wild yet deliberate, like a predator testing its prey.
It charged again, and this time, Leon didn't retreat. He planted his feet, twisting his torso as the beast's limb came down. His arm shot out, deflecting the blow with a calculated strike to its side. The force sent a jolt through his bones, but it worked—the beast staggered, its balance momentarily disrupted.
Leon jumped and planted his feet on the beast's torso, and then pulled the limb that tried to strike him. He tore it apart in exchange for a few bruises left by its other limbs.
The creature shrieked in rage. Losing a limb at its base was excruciating. In place of blood was viscous tar that poured out of its gaping wound.
'It's less stable now. Hit the joints.' Leon thought, his approach to the fight is to trade blows, for his own body was tougher.
The beast lashed out wildly, Leon ducked, his body moving fluidly as he evaded strike after strike. His movements weren't perfect; his footing slipped on the uneven ground, and he barely recovered in time to avoid a clawed swipe to his head. He stumbled but didn't let panic creep in.
Each limb was different. Some had more joints than the other, while another was practically a tentacle.
The next attack came from the side. Leon twisted, catching the beast's limb and using its momentum to pivot—he spun on one planted foot and used his shoulder as leverage, slamming the creature into the ground.
It writhed, its body flickering like a broken shadow. Leon didn't let up—he leapt back, avoiding the sharp, flailing appendages, then crouched low, observing.
Its movements are becoming predictable. It overextends on the strike after both front limbs.
The beast roared and charged again, its form rippling as it lunged. One, two strikes came for him, forcing Leon to dodge and parry with a rock he picked up on his first dodge.
As the third strike came, he was ready. He stepped to his left, twisted his body, widely planting a foot forward and driving his elbow into the joint of its limb. A sickening crack resounded, and the beast let out a piercing wail, stumbling forward.
It was down to five useable limbs.
Leon didn't stop. He pressed the advantage, striking at its other limbs with precision. Each blow targeted weak points—the joints, the softer parts of its writhing form. His strikes weren't powerful, but they were effective, wearing the beast down piece by piece.
But it wasn't enough. Behind him, another beast, more compact but faster, was able to pierce one of its rapier like hands into the side of his abdomen.
He rolled to the side, barely escaping as another set of claws raked the ground where he'd been. His mind was clear, and he knew that he was in danger.
There were three vile beasts before him now.
'They're slightly faster than me. Stronger than me. I need to use my surroundings.' For the first time since he was conceived, he felt some exhaustion. The invasion on the Academy only happened a few hours ago.
He glanced around, noting the uneven terrain, the scattered rocks. As the first beast lunged again, he moved—not away, but toward it. This left the other beasts nothing to target.
The sudden shift caught it off guard, and Leon ducked low, scooping up a large rock as he slid past its flank.
The beast turned, and Leon hurled the rock with all his strength. It struck the creature's eyeless face, momentarily stunning it. Seizing the opportunity, Leon closed the distance, his movements precise despite his exhaustion.
The small beast appeared in front lf him, although he described it as 'small,' it was the size of a grown man if it stood up. Its three sword-shaped arms moved consecutively, causing wounds to appear on Leon's body.
None of them were debilitating because of his efforts. While he moved he was able to break off a limb of the small beast. The third was preparing its claws behind him.
It was smilarly sized to the first one—smaller than a car, but it was slow. Having only 2 limbs for its size caused it to lag behind.
Leon's powerful legs jerked him to the sides, weaving between the limbs of the first beast—he wanted to climb the trees and take care of the small beast first.
Because the first beast lost a few limbs already, only the small beast was able to follow Leon's speed. He came near a tree and leapt.
But when he stepped on the trunk, he was greeted by a silent Hallen. In position for a strike.
Hallen pushed Leon back down toward the beasts. He applied his understanding of flames and explosions to blast him back.
Leon was in pain, wounded, and tired both mentally and physically. The beasts below him were joined by another one—more humanoid, it was bipedal but had four arms with nails for fingers. It felt dangerous.
As the world slowed down, Leon's eyes went back to Hallen. 'Why do people lie?'
'Why do people pretend?'
'Why don't people mind their own business?'
He remembered Orick. The one who brought them to the cave where Calla, Joan, Leia... and Leon died.
If instead, he had tried to become better on his own and not try to bring Leon down, then they would all have been friends still.
Which reminded him: 'How am I alive?' He tried to recall what happened, after their deaths, but before the cave collapsed.
His face relaxed in realization. 'Status.'
[STATUS]
True Name:
Rank:
Soul:
Core:
Race:
Strength:
Dexterity:
Vitality:
Perception:
Intelligence:
Law:
Will: [Null]
Aspects:
Skills:
Titles: [ALL], [Firstborn of the First Foul],
Traits: [Viewed],