He felt his heart tighten at the question. Who was he? It was hard to say, but Slady was still recognizable. He whispered his own name in response and received no answer in return. Elisa, with her lips slightly parted, rose from the bed and, with her legs shaking as she struggled to stand, tried to reach him, her eyes searching to understand the grandeur, or monstrosity, that the man before her had attained.
But she collapsed beside him.
Slady caught her, lowering himself to check her condition. Her heart beat slowly, matching the rhythm of her lungs. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, almost back to their original color, yet still white. His strong hands went to her face, his own face pressed to her chest, trying to feel what was missing, trying, somehow, to bring her consciousness back.
But it was already too late. The part of the soul that composes the mind, a small but essential fragment for its functioning, had been destroyed by the mental collapse.
He could not say a word. His breathing was rapid, a sensation choked his throat, and everything made him question what he had done. He felt not only the voices of the dead blaming him, but his own subconscious as well, and of course the devil himself, with a low but ever audible voice.
Carrying her in his arms, he placed her on the bed, and his hands slowly reached Shaphira's face. His hearing had been permanently lost. His eardrums had burst, and the spiritual part that formed them was lost as well.
And all of it was directed at him as guilt.
Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Guilt guilt guilt.
GUILT!
He knelt on the ground. His breathing was ragged. There were no eyes to cry, and no matter how close those leaves were to becoming his new eyes, he was still not entitled to cry.
As much as he did not wish it, he knew he was not alone. In a very serious tone, Salamandra's voice ordered the man to raise both arms. Without turning around, Slady warned her, his voice echoing low through the space, that she was being very reckless to think he would surrender.
He did not want to hurt her, but he would if she forced him to. He stood up. Salamandra questioned him about his actions. He was very clear that he had hurt no one. He only wanted to visit those he saw as daughters.
With contempt, Salamandra said that a man who abandoned his humanity to become a monster should never have had daughters. And he did not disagree. He did not deserve them, but it had happened. And he would protect them with everything he was capable of.
He approached with very slow steps, his body revealing itself to be the same size as the great indigenous warrior. Leaning in, very close to her face, he politely asked that passage to the exit be granted.
With obvious disdain, she refused.
Her body was thrown against a tree. Slady, pulling the staff from within his chest, began to move toward her. Then he felt his legs being wrapped by wood. Loren held him with a serious look. Two walls of earth rose from the ground, and several indigenous warriors, their bows and spears fixed on Slady…
They all attacked at the same time.
But he held the walls and shielded himself from the first shots that would have struck him. In moments, he hurled the equipment back at the attackers, shattered the wall, tore the roots from his feet, and shot forward at an abnormal speed toward Ryoken, who shaped the earth to attack him.
He destroyed everything. He saw that they were all prepared to kill him. He could not hold back, not entirely.
To protect her husband, the woman intervened, striking with her spear to cut his neck. He deflected it with the staff, sending the warrior crashing back into her husband.
An army came to attack him. Slady dominated them, throwing them aside, breaking their weapons, immobilizing them. In the distance, the leaves captured the sight of Loren gathering the bodies of those she had sworn to protect.
Without hesitation, he launched himself toward her, grabbing her by the hair, bringing Elisa and Shaphira under each arm, and questioning the priestess's intentions.
Without answering him, she touched a nearby tree, causing its branches to bend, transform, and strike him with newly formed claws. He was hurled to the other side of Brazilovia, stones falling on top of him, but they were destroyed with simple kicks.
He could hear, even from that distance, Ryoken's voice ordering the fastest indigenous warriors to run to Libretãnhya to announce the presence of the most wanted criminal of all. He managed to see those who wielded electricity firing themselves out of Brazilovia.
Slady leapt through the trees to place Elisa and Shaphira somewhere safe, then jumped into the air, transforming some branches beneath his hand into something thicker and sharper.
But a spear struck him, sending him into a lake. Slady grabbed the weapon, muttering about Salamandra's excellent aim for having hit him.
As he was about to destroy the spear, the water exploded, Salamandra's presence marked by waves in the lake. Slady threw the weapon at her. She caught it and charged him.
The exchange of blows was fast and violent, but Slady, even while holding back, still had the advantage. Before he could land a finishing blow to her chest, Slady felt the ground pierce him several times.
Taking advantage of the moment, Salamandra lifted her leg and kicked him in the head, knocking him to the ground. She stepped back, her husband appearing beside her, and the priestess following, wood protecting her in an armor shaped by her magic.
Slady spat blood, the dark mark on his chest becoming more evident. Satan's tempting voice urged him to surrender control of his body, promising to resolve everything for him. The murmurs in response were heard by the three, realizing that, in truth, they had not even come close to hurting him.
As he rose, leaning on his staff, Slady asked them to take advantage of his vulnerability and attack him with everything they had.
But they were paralyzed by the energy surrounding the man before them. They felt their lungs stop working for a brief moment. Salamandra fell to the ground, seeing several bodies fall lifeless before her. Her husband, her beloved, begged her to kill herself. Without hesitation, she grabbed the spear and…
A slap. It was Ryoken, feeling the same sensation, the same nightmare trying to control their minds. After awakening Loren, Ryoken, trying to draw out some goodness from Slady, said that he could help him, protect his daughters, but that he had to stop all this torture he inflicted upon himself.
Ryoken believed that deep down, Slady, despite everything, could be a good man. That he could surrender for everything he had done.
Then a laugh escaped his lips, not macabre, but dry and bitter. The shadowy presence vanished, and the Assassin of the Century lifted his face, saying that if he surrendered for all his crimes…
It would bring the devil back to Earth.
And now, at that moment, he had to make a choice: kill them or yield control to Krythos. The outcome of the choice could not have been more obvious.
Seeing that there was nothing else to be done, the three took their positions. Salamandra, despite her exhaustion, stood firm. Ryoken, though disappointed, assumed a position of leadership. And Loren, though saddened, chose to stain her hands by allowing the deaths of innocents.
Now no one would hold back, not the leaders and the priestess, and certainly not Slady.