Angosin’s words shake my mind for a moment, but only a moment. Since coming here, my life has been an endless shit show. This revelation of mediocrity is just another pebble in the avalanche of dumb decisions and weak mindsets. I would say I can’t bring myself to care, but that’s not quite true. Deep roots of unwillingness burrow their way through my chest, fertilized by this new information.

I’ve been a puppet on a string for far too long — dragged into conflicts and issues that aren’t my own for no apparent reason—and I am done dancing. It is time to forge my own way, starting with getting out of this cluster fuck of a situation.

“The only worthwhile thing you have done since awakening is to create those emotion-driven fire elementals,” he gestures to the scattered remains of Wisp and Legion. “Unfortunately, that turned out to be nothing more than a pathetic parlour trick. Hmmm… pathetic parlour trick is a phrase that describes you rather well, don’t you think?”

“Fuck you,” I spit, my mind awhirl with the bare bones of a desperate plan. I take a quick read of his emotions and see that his aura is swelling with confidence and pride. He thinks he has me on the ropes.

To be fair, he does, but not for long.

But overconfidence leaves room for manipulation.

“Do you think you have what it takes,” I begin, reaching into my bag and grab a handful of cores to replenish my Source. “To take my ultimate attack?”

At first, his eyes widen in surprise, but then he laughs. A cruel, mocking laugh. I do my best to subtly inflate his ego by tugging on his emotions, but he barely needs my help.

“Give me your best shot,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes, his body shuddering with barely contained laughter.

With a quick whistle, I summon Nevesca from her fight. Kandra, my Slime Queen, is quick to take the hint and also disengages from Angosin’s familiar to join me. The dappled blue Greater Wyvern roars at their retreat as arrogant and mocking as a beast can be.

“It will take me a moment to prepare,” I grin, projecting as much confidence as I can. “You should probably take that time to do preparations of your own.”

He laughs and goes to make some witty retort, but I zone him out and turn my attention inwards. With a quick flick of my claws, I tear open the flesh of my forearm, allowing blood to run and pool into my palm. Guided by my will, the blood forms into a sphere. With one hand I condense the sphere of blood, slowly but surely. With my other hand, I shove Monster Cores into my mouth. Core after core shatters between my teeth, releasing raw Source into me. It rages through my body like a wild beast in a cage, tearing me apart as I try to tame it.

Each passing cycle attunes a portion of the Source to me and I funnel the attuned Source into the solidifying sphere of blood in my hand. The rhythm of the process falls into place, letting me tune out the process (and the pain) to turn my focus on my emotions. I push aside negative thoughts of despair and helplessness. Instead, I focus on the dim glimmer of hope inside me.

Turning my gaze upwards, I allow the sensations of my body to wash over me. Some of the excess Source burning through my body goes to bolster my emotions. I tug on my hope and resolve, feeling for the corresponding physical sensations.

A jolt of energy passing through my limbs, tensing my muscles and straightening my spine. My lips part in anticipation, allowing deep breaths to flood oxygen into my veins. Despite tingling sensations tracing my nerves, I sense of calm wells up from my chest, broadcasting a single thought:

Everything will work out in the end.

I cling to that thought, forcing myself to believe it. Why shouldn’t everything work out for me? I’m just as much a protagonist as the next Awakened. The only thing holding me back is myself. Who cares if I lost my memories? I can reforge myself into someone new. Someone strong. Too strong to be taken advantage of time and time again.

These thoughts and feelings rush into the sphere of blood in my hand, mixing with the Source there. The sphere wiggles in my palm, trying to compensate for the influx of emotions and magic, even though those things do not take up physical space. I don’t know how it works, but then again, I don’t have to. The System recognizes my will and the image I am advocating for and fills in the blanks.

‘Everything will work out in the end,’ I keep telling myself. Legion was my insecurity, jealousy, and rage brought to life. Wisp embodied the primal instincts lurking within my Core. I forced them into the shape of a flame, but what if I had let them choose their own form? Would they have been more powerful?

I fucking hope so because that is what I’m gambling on. Besides, hope is the most powerful emotion, right?

With a rush, the blood sphere in my hand condenses into a blood-coloured crystal that looks a lot like one of the many cores I have been gobbling down. A second later the System catches on to my intentions and a series of blue screens block my vision.

You have created a [Blood Core]

Your [Blood Core] is evolving!

Your [Blood Core] has evolved into- ERROR

Recalculating…

You have successfully summoned a [Broken Tyrannical Knight]

This knight once served under a [Tyrant] but was shattered along with the rest of his brethren when the [Tyrant]’s were destroyed. He has heard your call for help from the edge of oblivion and devoted what little life he has left to defend your cause.

Rusted and falling apart, the knight kneels before me, coated head to toe in armour. He buries his sword point first into the ground next to him and lays his hand across his chest as he bows to me from his knees. His other hand is a burnt, melted mess. A large tower shield made of deformed metal hangs limply against his side. The whole arm looks… wrong. Bent and disfigured in a way that arms shouldn’t bend.

An unseen force wrenches the Blood Core from my grasp sending it hurtling through the slits in the knight’s great helm with enough force to rock his head back. Glints of red shine where his eyes should be and with a mass squall of creaks and grinding metal, the knight rises to his full height, towering above me.

“Buy us time to escape,” I croak, feeling drained. “Our enemy is far too powerful. I need time to grow… to grow and become strong.”

[Broken Tyrannical Knight] has heard your request.

[Broken Tyrannical Knight] has accepted your terms and conditions and bonded to your soul.

You may now summon [Broken Tyrannical Knight] as one of your creatures.

Class Unlocked: [Summoner]

Do you wish to accept this class?

Y/N

I brush the notifications aside. If I live, I can deal with them then. Before I can begin my next course of action, a booming voice, deep and foreboding, rings out.

“Through blood and flame I was forged,” the knight speaks, his voice a harbinger of doom. “Through flame, I was destroyed, but through blood you have brought me back. My sword is yours. I will lay waste to your enemies, even beyond death.”

“There,” I point to Angosin and his familiar. “Defeat him if you can but delay him at all costs. If I survive, I will summon you again, even if it is from beyond death.”

The knight wrenches his sword from the earth with ease and raises the mass of sharpened metal in salute, betraying immense strength. Without a word, he turns and lumbers toward Angosin, picking up speed with each ground eating stride.

I glance at the handsome, dark-skinned man, expecting a continuation of the haughty looks he has had plastered on his face so far. To my surprise, he looks deadly serious. His jaw is set and his mouth is a thin line of concentration. Source whips around him, shaping into magic ready to unleash. Arcane symbols form massive circles of complex script around him, indicating difficult and specific spells that cannot form through will and image alone.

“TO ME,” my champion roars, thick spectral chains bursting from his chest. Dozens of chains rip into the ground, then pull taut, indicating something attached to the other side. My knight is slowed for a breif moment as the chains pull him back, but with a great heave, he wrenches himself forward. The chains rip humanoid figures from the ground in eruptions of rock and dust. Each new figure has a chain dangling from their chest where their heart should be.

Dressed head to toe in decrepit armour, they stumble forward, following my [Broken Tyrannical Knight] in an accelerating wave. They look to be some sort of semi-spectral undead. Their armour and weapons seem real enough, but there is nothing but writhing shadows where flesh and bone should be.

My knight roars at Angosin and sprints forward with surprising speed and grace, given the mass of twisted metal weighing him down. His troop of soldiers race after him. They don’t take up his battle cry, but they slam their weapons against their shields, creating an ominous rhythm that echoes among the boulders littering this plateau. The echoes create a strange multilayered cadence.

As curious as I am to see how my summoned creature fares against Angosin and his familiar, I turn away from the imminent clash to address a much more important concern. Namely, getting away from here with my life and freedom. It is the smart thing to do. With time I can grow more and more powerful, evolving each step of the way. Not just physically or magically powerful, but mentally strong. I need to make my own decisions and carve my own path. I can’t let the people around me get me into these fucked up situations anymore.

Not that I think Quinn led me here on purpose.

She said she loves me. No one would betray someone they love like this, right? It wouldn’t make sense. Right?

Right.

She is probably hanging out somewhere around here, wrapped in an illusion and looking for the perfect opportunity to turn the tides. I can only hope she sees that I’m retreating and comes with me. Why wouldn’t she? We defeated the Unmoving Mountain and so the portal should be open. All we need do is get there, pass through, and close it before it is too late.

I stumble forward, my body broken and exhausted from the fight and being ravaged inside out by a torrential outpouring of Source. My blood works at healing me, but my limited Source supply is just that. Limited. The thought of eating any more Cores make me sick. I don’t think my body could handle it.

Kandra comes to my aid, wrapping her body around mine to support my joints and help me move forward. Her bones shift and shape themselves into splints to support my limbs.

Nevasca nuzzles the palm of my hand with her muzzle. Taking the hint, I tangle my fingers in the thick feathers sprouting from between her shoulder blades. She pulls me forward and into a staggering run.

Together we flee towards the corpse of the Unmoving Mountain.

I’m sure Quinn is right behind us. There is no way we’ve gone through hell together just for us to leave her behind right before we win. There is no way.

She wouldn’t betray me.

I trust he-

A sharp pain blossoms in my chest. I try to keep running but something is holding me in place. Shimmering waves of light appear before me, then fall away. Beside me, Nevesca rumbles out an intimidating growl, but it is tinged with something. Fear? No. Nevesca is too strong to be afraid. There isn’t anything my little protector can’t overcome.

The light falls to reveal Quinn standing in front of me, her glorious wings spread wide.

“Quinn! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Come on, it's time to go.” I try to say, but the words don’t come easy. It's like trying to talk underwater. The words just won’t come out.

I try again, but my mouth feels full. Splatters of blood blossom on Quinn’s unsmiling face. Her beautiful green eyes look shadowed.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re a great guy, and I loved you in my own way, but I have to look out for myself. I can’t sacrifice my happiness for you. You weren’t what I need…. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but it was fun while it lasted.”

I try to tell her I don’t understand, but before I can I’m falling backwards. Above me, the clouds of dust have settled and I can see the sky once more. Something flies into the blue skies and for a second, I think it is Quinn, but Quinn has gorgeous snow-white wings. The thing in the sky has broken, decaying wings, like those of a demon… or a fallen angel.

I blink and the sky goes from blue to black. Where the sun was, a full moon shines down. In the distance, I hear howls, like a thousand hounds calling for blood. I could swear that I hear the rustle of scales, but it must be the wind.

Nevesca stands over my body, growling. Her tails wrap around me, supporting me and pressing against my chest. I look down and to my surprise, I see she is trying to slow the bleeding from a wound in my chest. Maybe it could’ve been enough to save me if I still had access to System provided Source, but I can feel it all slipping away.

Everything is slipping from my grasp. I don’t have the energy to carry on.

Achievement Unlocked: Beware the Ides of March

Details: Be murdered by someone you trusted with your life.

A thought rises unbidden to my mind. A promise that my adopted father once made me.

“As long as you are one of mine you will never die a true death in this Dungeon.”

Maybe if I had another chance, things could be different.