30 | ghost; revenge fulfilled

Rays of pure white light burst through the darkness, rendering everybody blinded for several moments.

Lucas squinted, grasping blindly at the air as he vaguely made out the figure of the Spade King scrambling on the floor, having been knocked backwards by the sudden brightness.

It was an excruciating heat, at first, seeming to sear into Lucas' skin, down to the bone. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting, boiled alive.

Then, a coolness washed over his body, vividly contrasting his previous feeling.

A layer of film draped over him, shielding him from the sheer physical force of the pain, though he could still feel the heat as if his limbs were dunked in boiling water, skin bubbling and burning.

The light and blast of smoke that had clogged up the room slowly dispersed through the shattered windows, and a single glowing figure curled up in the middle.

Lucas could hear the shouts of alarm coming from outside, barely make out the shadows running out of the building from his dizzy sight.

Nora, Wren and Rome hopefully escaped as well, likely aiding in luring the others outside to leave him with the Spade King—and the unfortunate victims that had been killed, mutilated and left to bleed.

His mind wasn't working properly.

Elias.

Where was that fool?

He should've been harmed by the incident—Lucas wasn't sure what protected him from the brunt of the damages, but it couldn't be guaranteed that Elias had been saved as well.

Though that boss of his was a stubborn, undying mule; a persistent weed that couldn't be killed.

He stumbled forward, towards the curled up figure in the center.

Glancing at his side, the Spade King trembled with broils on his skin, black, blistering arms that looked like charcoal. He shook violently, the terrible glare still in his gaze.

Lucas paused, commenting matter-of-factually, "You don't look great."

"....."

"Having a bad day?"

August glared viscously at him, as if he wanted to lunge out and strangle the other to death. Lucas remained indifferent, turning away.

Wren would be the one to deal with that chunk of burnt meat—if he lived for that long. However, thinking that it was August, a tenacious man who sacrificed and survived despite all troubles, he'd probably live long enough.

Long enough for that woman to decide his fate.

Lucas bent down on one knee when arriving at the center of the explosion.

A boy curled up on the ground, hair devoid of any colour and eyes pressed shut. Dressed in pure white clothes, seeming to be an otherworldly being.

In a fantasy story, perhaps he would be akin to a fairy or an elf.

Lucas examined his features, frowning. There was something a little familiar about the way his face was shaped, the innocent and soft raise of his eyebrows, and the lips that naturally curled upward.

Not quite the appearance, but the general atmosphere the boy radiated reminded Lucas of somebody.

Then the boy blinked.

Lucas jumped back in surprise, wrenching up a piece of debris sharpened at the edge. He lifted his arm, narrowing his gaze.

"...master?" a soft voice called out.

"....." Lucas lowered the weapon cautiously. "I'm not your master."

The boy tilted his head. "Father?"

"...no, definitely not."

"Mothe—"

"No."

Before the boy could suggest a worse name, Lucas quickly decided on the best of the three terrible options.

The doors burst open just as he opened his mouth to say, "Call me master."

Julian's jaw dropped. "....."

Nora covered Rome's ears, smiling politely.

Wren whistled, and the youth draped over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes seemed to radiate amusement in their unconscious state. Lucas blinked and let out a long, dragging sigh.

"S-sir... you...are you into that..."

"No." Said Lucas immediately, before adding, "Be quiet."

Wren raised her eyebrows, wriggling them. "I'll admit, it's plain strange—but it's fine, you're strange."

"No!" Julian hurried forward protectively. "Even if you saved my life sir..."

"...I said, shut up." Lucas rubbed his temples and stepped aside to reveal the curled up boy who they hadn't seen earlier.

Now, the boy was sitting serenely, staring at them.

Actually, he seemed to be a teenager—younger than Elliot or Julian, who were likely in their first year of university, but... perhaps sixteen?

However, Nora's expression had changed entirely.

A tremble overtook her body on the spot as she reached out a quivering hand, remaining frozen, trapped in her thoughts. Memories glazed over her vision as the boy slowly blinked up at her and she rushed forward.

Nora's arms wrapped around the boy gingerly, almost scared at first, before she pulled him into a tight embrace.

When had she seen him last, the soft face that haunted her nightmares and waking day?

"How... how are you alive?" she gasped through bubbling tears that streamed down her face. "This... it can't be."

A tremble coursed through her body, limp and in a dreaming state. Her little brother, her wonderful and sweet sibling that had followed her around everywhere, tugging at her clothes or pulling at her hand. It wasn't possible, but she prayed to not awaken from this dream.

Lucas didn't miss the change in the boy's eyes, which went unnoticed by the tearful woman. The boy—dragon, blinked calmly and tilted his head. "Who are you?"

The woman froze, cold spreading along her body as she turned still.

A harsh gulp as she took a few deep breaths, mouth flailing hopelessly in between the desire to plead and the knowing pull that something was strange.

Slowly, she pulled away and wiped away the tears that had streamed down her cheeks, taking a deep breath. After collecting herself, she asked with a tremour to her voice, "You don't know who I am?"

"Mn, I don't."

"...I... not in the slightest? Not even vaguely—"

"Kid," interrupted Lucas, crouching down beside the woman as he stared into bright, coral eyes. "What's your name?"

A blink. "Shenlong."

Nora let out a soft gasp, completely releasing the boy as she smiled shakily. "I'm, I'm sorry, it seems that I've mistaken you for somebody."

"It's okay." The boy reached out, patting her hand softly.

"...you're right. Thank you."

She smiled again kindly, but made a move to shuffle away. Wren glanced at her with a frown, dumping Elliot's body on a clean spot on the floor before walking over to the woman.

They lowered their voices to a hushed whisper. "Nora, is that..."

"He bears a resemblance to my deceased brother." laughed Nora painfully with a shake of her head, as if the idea were ridiculous. "I... I thought I'd seen a ghost."

"I'm sorry." Rare worry seeped into Wren's voice—though she'd rather liked Nora since the beginning, and didn't enjoy watching pretty people cry.

"No, no, I apologize. I'll be fine. It was just surprising. You don't really ever stop grieving for the dead, though time continues to move on. I am still a little lost over my brother's death, but I'll be fine."

"If you say so, then I'll trust that."

Nora smiled faintly, still a bit worn out from the initial shock of seeing a deceased family member alive—only for it to be fake. It was as if she were raised to the glorious skies, and then dropped onto rocky, hard streets.

Though without a doubt, from the way he blinked peacefully to the way he tilted his head—that was her little brother, flesh and bone. She couldn't mistake him, even if the colour of his hair and eyes had changed.

Only... he didn't remember her. So it couldn't be him, right?

Car accidents happened frequently, but it'd played over her mind over and over when it'd happened. The survivour of such accidents always blamed themselves, whether or whether not they had caused it.

Wren gazed at her with a frown before lightly tapping the small of the other woman's back to reassure her.

Then, her eyes drifted to the burnt up corpse that squirmed on the floor. Well, something akin to a corpse, if not for the fact it struggled pathetically, with melted eyes that bled with violence.

"Seeing you like this, August," said the woman slowly in an impartial, chilling drawl. "It makes me wonder how I ever let you betray me like that. I should've killed you when I had the chance."

The hallway lights outside flickered on, streaming a faint brightness onto the side of her face as she lowered her eyes with a sneer. It made her impression more heartless, with the gleam of murderous intent.

"You're in such a pathetic state, I'd almost feel bad about doing anything more."

Recognition flickered in the mess of August's bulging eyes as he scrambled forward, dragging his ruined body desperately. Bloody, burnt fingers clawed at her shoes.

"W...re...n..."

She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "You no longer have the right to call for me, idiot. You damned fool."

Despite her words, the lump of flesh still pulled towards her, sliding the remains of their limbs over her feet as she stepped back. "Hey! These shoes are designer alright, designed by yours truly! You can't afford to touch this."

Then her voice fell as she took a deep breath. "It's the end up your short-lived reign, Spade King. I won't save you, won't forgive you. There is nothing left for me to say."

"Only, I did love you once, as stupid as it was. So I won't drag this out."

A simmering smile spread across her lips as she raised a hand. Black particles shaped into sharp needles flickered into existence, one raised over each limb and his heart.

Suddenly, as a thought wandered into her mind, she stopped and turned around. The little boy—Rome—met the center of her cold stare, curious.

"The plan was to have this kid steal his Title, wasn't it?"

A slight nod, and then an indifferent shrug, was provided by Lucas. "Do whatever you want. If not him, I'll find a Title for Rome another way."

"Kid," Waving forward, Wren laughed dryly. "Do you want to have blood on your hands?"

Rome hopped forward, peeking over at Lucas, who nodded, before eagerly agreeing. Utterly mild, the boy said, "I don't mind."

"What a messed up brat you are."

She snapped her fingers, eyes lit with a pulse of thick red as a sharpened black needle dropped into the boy's small hands.

August's gaze went wide in terror, recognizing as he watched the boy approach.

It was with laughter on her lips that the woman took a step back, crossing her arms cruelly, watching without an ounce of emotion. He would receive nothing from her, not her overwhelming love or her burning hatred.

Yet here he was, pleading with the same fervor she did once.

Thin arms raised the needle high into the air, and August trembled when he'd thought he saw the illusion of a smile on those childish lips.

"Bye-bye." mouthed Rome.

"I hope you have a wonderful time in hell." waved Wren.

And then the needle fell.

Similar to the scene Lucas had witnessed after stealing the Punisher's powers and seeing the event of his death, the Spade King died almost instantly.

August died unable to refute, disgraced and burnt through his flesh.

He died as nothing more than a pathetic, pleading mound of meat.

Wren gazed silently at the dead body, at the blood trickling out from the wounds the boy had pierced through, and turned away. Her lover, once. Her betrayer, once.

And her victim, now.

Rome stood back up, a strange swirl of madness in his large, youthful stare that didn't flinch at the mangled corpse. He tilted his head and smiled at Lucas, like a little puppy waiting to be praised.

"Did I do a good job?"

"......" Lucas moved over to ruffle his soft hair, conflicted. "Good job."

[Alert! The Spade King has been killed!]

A robotic voice roared in the air, and all members looked up in surprise. Indeed, while one could typically only steal another's Title during the Ranking, it was different when it came to the Kings.

Only the strongest could wear the crown.

And in such, a murder game had created—and anybody could succeed, through trickery or sheer strength.

Lucas sighed. It was, in fact, a rather dangerous Title to give to a young child, but it was better than nothing. Regardless, the potential of Rome's exceeded his expectations.

A cowardly adult could go only so far with power.

A twisted child could go much further.

[A new King has been crowned! The Spade King, Rome Alistair. May your reign last until the sun no longer rises.]

Nora frowned, though she hadn't moved to stop the events from happening. When Wren looked over, she smiled and held a thumbs up with both her hands.

Wren laughed lightly, the cruel grin from earlier warping into a thankful smile. She gave a thumb up back.

"Are you satisfied?"

The woman spun around in surprise towards the door, where a tall man leaned casually, indifferently gazing around the scene. When he made eye contact with Lucas, who frowned habitually, he smiled and waved.

Elias kicked his leg off the door and strolled forward in an arrogant stride, avoiding the corpses on the floor. "Well, well. It looks like your revenge had been successful."

"How did you survive?" interrupted Lucas, still crouched before the dragon.

"No, hello? How are you? I'm glad you're alive?"

"You should've died."

Elias paused, faking offense. "I thought we had a deal, darling. And yet your true objective has been to kill me this entire time?"

"The explosion, boss." scowled the man impatiently. "I was shielded by something—were you as well?"

"I'd rather say, just as you are good at dying, I excel at surviving."

"Like a damn weed." muttered Lucas.

Elias looked at him curiously. "Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"A. Damn. Weed." mouthed Lucas slowly, placing empathizes on every word, turning away again to bring his attention back to the teenager before him.

Ignoring Elias, who stared pointedly at his back, he scanned the dragon's body for any signs of burns or injuries. Knowing that this small character had been the cause of the explosion, he doubted that heat would burn their skin.

"My name is Lucas. I'll call you Shen, alright?"

The boy nodded, flashing two pointed teeth as his long, white hair fell over his ears. He raised a finger at Lucas. "Lulu?"

"Lucas."

The teenager nodded calmly.

"Lulu."

Lucas stared, unsmiling.

"Lucas."

"Mast—"

"Lulu." said the man without hesitation, wanting to hit somebody out of exhaustion. Narrowing his eyes, he observed the boy before him.

A dragon, technically, possessing the appearance of a human body that had once been Nora's deceased sibling. Seeming to lack certain intellectual abilities, especially in the speaking department—acting more like a child than a teenager.

Considering that the boy had been... born from an egg, a rather small one when comparing the size, there could be some developmental issues.

Although, how was he supposed to know?

He didn't birth that dragon!

Elias crouched down beside Lucas and bluntly poked the teenager's head, as if touching a strange object. He rubbed his fingers, wondering if there were any toxins produced.

The End's Delusion—this sadistic apocalypse—didn't often provide gifts that came without consequence.

As he crouched down, a firm foot planted on his back. Elias immediately stilled, slowing turning his head with a frightening smile planted on his face.

"Do you need something, Miss Teller?"

Wren raised an eyebrow high, yawning casually. "I saw a perfectly good footrest right in front of me."

Elias stared back, feeling the dirt smudge into his expensive jacket.

"Unfortunately, the right to my back is reserved for a single person." Saying so, he turned to peer over at Lucas, who ignored the spectacle beside him.

Wren barked out a laugh. "Tell me, my lovely Link, do you claim ownership of him?"

Lucas scowled at their ridiculous play. "Step on him all you want."

"Should I take it you prefer watching?" wondered Elias before Lucas glared viscously, his expression darkening.

In the corner, Nora watched with wary, tentative eyes. The person she'd mourned for, spent sleepless nights lamenting and sobbing, blinked innocently in the center.

A person who may never know who she was again.

The dragon met her wavering stare, and she swallowed back another sob. Curling her fingers in, she smiled tenderly, curving her gentle eyes that lined with tears that refused to fall.