The first thing Lucas did when he stumbled into the clean hospital grounds, refusing Elias' help, was to shut himself in a room and insist on quietude.
He crawled into a bed, tripping on the way without even a murmur of pain. He could see nothing. Do nothing. He wanted to be alone.
An isolation of his thoughts and body.
Where did it all go wrong? What mistake had he made once again?
Why did everybody have to disappear?
Nora's death, the scene of her crumbling body, had infested all of them. In Kane, whose fists curled in frustration, knowing that no amount of medical knowledge could save her.
In Sylvia, who turned away, bowed in respect, and Adelaide, who hugged Julian's sobbing body, misery contorting his youthful face.
Elias had watched the sorrow reflected in the depths of his deep blue eyes as Wren gathered Nora—the pieces of her—staring, then crying, slamming her fist into the wall with a rage that made the tower tremble.
He watched Lucas, kneeling with a blank, unseeing gaze.
He heard the slow mutter, the quiet confession.
"I can't see. I can't see anything."
Elias hadn't wanted or expected any of it. He'd observed Lucas from the beginning, interested in what sort of tale he'd play. Perhaps once he would've found amusement in tragedy, but not anymore.
Death after death after death. Lucas' mind absorbed it all like a sponge, soaking in every corner of his mind until it became overwhelming.
Nora had reached out to Lucas, a final smile, a concluding goodbye.
And Lucas hadn't seen it.
But that man, who read others so well, could likely imagine what sort of actions she did. The scene that he missed.
Elias had dragged Lucas out through hell's gates, waiting for him. After all, the man had accomplished the requirements to leave, and the rule couldn't bind Elias.
Adelaide and Julian had nodded, one casting a concerned glance at Lucas, and the other sniffing and rubbing his reddened eyes. They wanted to leave as soon as they could and needed to finish one more Story.
Kane, seeing the door appear, helped his brother up gently, as if handling a shard of glass. Terrified of breaking it. "Lucas, go back first. I'll meet with you soon, alright?"
Lucas, uncomfortable with needing help, shook his head stubbornly. He tucked his hand away, the one with its missing fingers. His voice was low.
"I'll stay. I'll help you."
"I believe that, Lucas." Kane smiled wryly. "With you, I'm certain that it'll be easier to accomplish whatever awaits me next. But listen to my wishes, this selfish greed, please."
"...That is?"
"I feel like I've lost a part of myself, watching the people I know die, piece by piece. But if you died, Lucas, it wouldn't be just a part of me. I wouldn't know what to do. I wouldn't be able to live. Do you understand?"
Lucas had been silent after that.
Elias stared at the unfocused eyes of the other. He couldn't decipher the emotions in them.
Lucas had wanted to insist on helping as he numbly stared at the location he thought Kane was. The firm letters that once made up Nora remained vivid. She was dead. But time didn't give them the mercy of grief.
She was dead, and their journey would continue onward.
He swallowed, dizziness swamping him. Was it his misfortune that cursed them? There could have been a world where they survived, where he didn't make the wrong choices.
One where he might've never met them.
Would that be the best one? The one where everyone lived?
It was a foolish wonder, he knew, even as his thoughts swarmed together in a murky swamp. It was stupid because in the end, they were unable to resist the End's Delusion.
Or was that just due to his belief, when the world had reset every time he died?
Reason reminded him that in the first world he'd seen, humanity's destiny was nihility. Devestation and death. Had it not been for him, there would've been no second or third chance.
He blamed himself, nevertheless.
Kane lowered his head, worried, as Adelaide and Julian waited at the archway by the bell.
He angled his head to move himself closer to Lucas. "Lucas, what's wrong? Where did you go, why didn't you—no, it's not the time for questions. As long as you still need me, there is no way I won't return. Rest well, little brother."
Lucas stared fixedly at the ground, at what should've been sleek bone, but was instead a blur of white. He lifted his gaze solemnly, and darkness shadowed his face.
After so long, Kane couldn't decipher Lucas' impassive expressions as well as he once did. There was no time to learn how to.
But Elias could.
He could see the dulled, snow-covered eyes and the emptiness that swallowed the intense emotions once burned within.
Under the void of the starless skies, Lucas swayed. A flickering flame at the edge of its lifeline, needing only a gentle breeze to vanish.
Lucas nodded, but his eyes held helplessness. "I believe you. I'm fine.
Kane frowned uncertainly. "Are you certain?"
"I promise." Lucas' voice softened; a forced steadiness and a faint smile saved for his brother.
He teetered near the edge of the building. When he stood, the ghost of a smile on his face, fear punctured Kane's chest.
Lucas staggered, and Elias reached out immediately, almost frantically, yanking the man away from the edge.
Lucas, unable to do anything, slumped against the other man. He clutched Elias' arm. His teeth gritted, wanting to push away, but knowing his own weakness at the moment.
Elias felt the light tremour in it, the resistance and anger at his own pathetic state.
"..."
They fell back into the hospital as they pushed through the iron gates, feeling bones clutch at their limbs and drag them through. The others disappeared behind, inside Tartarus.
It took moments for them to separate.
Lucas fled into a room, and Elias solemnly leaned outside. He'd already been kicked out several times.
Even Rome was denied access, as the boy hopefully ran up to the door, thrilled to hear of their return. However, his face drooped when he wasn't allowed inside. Similarly, the other children wanted to visit Lucas, but were all stopped at the door.
After 24 hours, Elias lost his patience—he never had much of it to begin with—and swung the door wide open, closing it behind him.
"Leave," a voice called out coldly.
Elias walked forward disobediently. "As if I'd leave you like this. I already waited a day, darling. You know better than I do not to bury yourself alone."
There was silence, and then the mound on the bed shuffled.
Lucas emerged from the covers, his black hair ruffled. His eyes remained soulless, staring in the direction of Elias' voice, but not at Elias. The curtains were drawn shut because it didn't matter.
He wouldn't be able to see, anyway.
"Was there any way you could've saved her?"
Elias stared, realizing the weight of the question. That Lucas knew exactly who and what he was. His lips parted in silence before he leaned against the wall and shook his head.
The Catalyst gazed quietly at the miserable man before him.
"There wasn't."
"If there was, would you have saved her?"
Elias gave a bitter chuckle of disbelief. "Are you doubting me now? First blame yourself, next blame me?"
Lucas, much to Elias' irritation, didn't reveal any expression at the accusation.
"I'm thinking. Of all the other possibilities."
"She's dead," said Elias coldly, raising his dark stare. "There's no other possibility. That woman is gone, and there's no bringing her back."
"There's nothing?"
Elias tapped his hand impatiently on the wall, anger simmering in his stomach. At Lucas' suspicion that questioned whether Elias was lying or not, whether he was just too heartless to attempt to save Nora.
And it was true. He was heartless and cruel.
What Lucas didn't realize was that Elias would've done anything to keep Lucas from ending up in this state. He would've saved or killed anybody Lucas chose.
"I don't mind if you ignore my confession, and I know your mood is sour. Pretend that I'm nothing, soak in your misery! I don't get it, darling, not anymore. I won't pretend to be a good person to disperse your doubts. But tell me, do you really think so little of me?"
Was that how Lucas saw him, the man who read people so well? Did he see Elias as a heartless bastard who would let his companion die before him?
Lucas' voice remained frigid. "What do you think?"
"Do you take me for a terrible person?"
"No." Lucas turned his head away, and Elias stormed closer to force the man to look back at him. The piercing in his ear glimmered from the faint ray of light seeping from the curtain. "It doesn't matter. If there was no method, then that's it."
Lucas attempted to jerk away, but Elias was relentless.
Lucas seethed. "They're all gone, she's gone. Maybe Kane will also become prey to the Delusion. Who knows?"
His words were heartless and devoid of anything.
This wasn't the stupid, resilient sponge that faced everything—no matter what death and terror—but persisted stubbornly, keeping his humanity and morals.
The one who never gave up in the world of cruelty that had become, in the bloodshed he never wanted but knew how to accept. And it was frustrating beyond belief for Elias to know that he couldn't dispel the misery installed in Lucas' mind.
Lucas' mentality wasn't weak, but it took in everything, remembered, and absorbed feelings like a sponge. The deaths replayed in his mind until he knew exactly how it felt to die in a dozen ways.
Elias pivoted and slammed the door upon his exit. Lucas only stared after like a blank doll, an empty slate that couldn't prevent the dark thoughts from spilling.
Later, Rome pursed his lips as his knocks were left unanswered again. He didn't know what happened. All he knew was that the others had yet to return with Lucas and Elias.
The little boy had hope—he had to, because what else could he do?
His shoulders slumped after being ignored again, and Elliot walked by, casting a glance at the shut door. He reached out and ruffled the boy's head playfully.
Through their bickering and time spent together, they'd gotten along a little. A makeshift older and younger sibling pair.
Elliot thought to make a joke, to tease Rome's sullen expression. But deciding to display an honourable act, he leaned beside the boy.
"No matter how strong that Ghost is, you can't take an idiot who takes every death personally and have him shoulder the weight of a bunch of lies. You can't take somebody like that and expect him to remain okay. Give him time, brat."
Rome licked his lips, smoothening his palms on his pants. He frowned. "That mister is strong, very strong. He isn't weak."
"Never said he was—hey brat, are you listening? Look, Ghost is strong. If he becomes a pathetic mess, well, he sorta already is, but that only proves the point."
"What?"
"That he's strong. That he's grieving, because he's still human. Cause listen, I won't lie, if I saw you killed right now and here, I'd just move on. Sorry, but it can't be helped. It's how it is. Death to me, now, is inevitable. Meaningless. I just don't care."
Rome felt a little offended, furrowing his eyebrows, and his cheeks puffed. Then, he wondered, "Isn't that good?"
Elliot arched his eyebrows. "Is it? I'd figure it'd be better to live as a human than as a monster. It's better to feel than not.
"Do you think... he's weak... Rome?" A faint voice called from the hallway. Will walked to them, gloomily gazing at the door. He'd also attempted to greet Lucas, only to be answered with silence.
"No! Of course not!"
Will sighed softly. He could hardly sleep nowadays, because every time he closed his eyes, he saw the kids he failed to protect.
If he could hardly bear it, then what of the adult who'd made a promise to save them all? Lucas, who became a shield and a sword for all of them, no matter the cause? Could he remain okay, always sane and normal?
Berry clutched Will's sleeve, pouting. "He's still in there!"
"Be... patient. He needs to... rest... okay?"
Lucas heard the noise outside his door, the children's chatters. He raised his head in their direction and then straight again. His blindness was likely temporary, caused by the snow after seeing emptiness for so long.
Even he knew he couldn't remain in the dark forever. It was pathetic. His head throbbed, and every part of his body ached.
But fury twisted his chest.
Maybe there were many other options, ways to save everybody that he failed to do. Maybe he was the misfortune, bringing death to those he swore to protect. If that were the case, if everybody were to eventually die, then did anything matter?
He needed to move faster, to claim the Forsaken Throne at whatever cost.
At whatever risk.
Quickly, faster.
End it all, bring it to a close. So nobody else would die.
"Have you reached a determination, my wonderful link?" A cold voice rang out in the corner of the room, where the shadows met.
Lucas raised his steady gaze toward the sound, and the woman laughed, a hoarse and tired sort that held no humour.
"You still can't see?"
"I don't need my sight."
Wren emerged from the shadows, her feet dragging along the ground as she approached the quiet man on the bed. He looked like a mess—of course, he was. If anybody could understand how she felt, it was only Lucas.
Her eyes gleamed. "No?"
"I don't," assured Lucas, tilting his head. "I have your sight, don't I?"
There it was, a glimpse of the Lucas she originally knew. Not naïve, not idealistic, but cold and truly indifferent. Or, if he wanted to care, he buried all his feelings, locking them away.
She had to wonder. Right now, was Lucas' empty stare a result of him finding a steely determination, or his unraveling in mind?
Honestly, she couldn't care less.
She still felt where she'd held Nora's shaking body, weak and fearful. Hiding tears that couldn't help but spill at the end.
"There's only one way. To become powerful, you'll need to go through Story after Story without rest. In the next Ranking, fight and steal others' powers, reap the ability of the dead."
Become a terrible, heinous villain. Go mad, go crazy.
Care about nothing, just as she did.
Lucas stared at her calmly, a piercing look that lacked any hesitation. She flinched in discomfort, almost calling him out for seeing her. But when she lightly moved and saw his head didn't follow, she understood he was still blinded.
What did he witness during his disappearance?
"I won't kill the innocent."
"Is anybody anymore?" laughed Wren sarcastically. "We're all murderers. Not a single one of us is spared from that."
"I'll only kill those who attack me first."
"If you want to save your darling brother, you'll have to stop doing things half-assed. Lucas, oh Lucas." She shook her head and moved closer, cradling his face. He didn't flinch. "The End's Delusion, the Forsaken Throne. No sane person has ever claimed it."
"I'll kill anybody who attacks me first," repeated Lucas, frost coating his voice in the dreary room. "I'm not half-assing anything."
Elias would give him one of the swords needed, which was confirmed. Lucas fell silent. Elias wouldn't refuse him. Couldn't, if his confession was real.
Lucas could use that fact.
"....." He opened his mouth and closed it again, feeling a swirl of dizziness. "We only need to find the last King. Adelaide, Rome, and Elias won't reject me if I ask for their swords."
"The last, hm?" Wren let go of Lucas, spinning around and plopping onto the bed with one leg crossed. "Then we need only lure them out. They'll be looking for the other swords, too."
"...You want to bait them. To make it obvious that I have the swords, they won't help but come to kill me themselves."
"Naturally, you understand me so well." There was a dangerous glint in her feline eyes. In fact, she didn't really want Lucas to die either, not when he was the only person after Nora she could talk to.
But it couldn't be helped.
If he was determined to end it all, she would help him.
She eyed the man slowly, cocking her head as a smile curled at the corners of her mouth. "Let's see, I'll have you become something akin to a King themselves. Only the powerful can attract the powerful."
She snapped her fingers, and a white mask appeared in her hands, black bleeding from the eye sockets and a twisted smile stretching from ear to ear. Leaning forward, she combed Lucas' hair back and secured the mask on.
He raised his fingers, and the stumps where fingers once were, tracing over the sharp grooves. It dug into his skin, and a dull pain burned.
Only the icy white of his eyes was revealed.
"King of Fools," mused Wren, thinking it suited him. She was a joker, after all. "Time to start your reign, Clown King."