《Perfect World》Maks Meier

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Scene

Liam Scott and Basil Rock are on an auxiliary yacht, the Sunbeam, far from port. Its sails, more for show and naval tradition, were down, its boiler empty and smokestacks without smoke. They invited acquaintances aboard to witness Arwen Mordecai's death.

Liam Scott and Basil Rock were on an auxiliary yacht, the Sunbeam, far from port. Its sails, more for show and naval tradition, were down, its boiler hungry and smokestacks without smoke.

"Have you done it?" Basil Rock asked, peering at the dock through his brass binoculars.

"Patience." Scott murmured.

"They might know by now."

The crowd behind yelled in agreement, one even man saying, "Let me fire the damn flare."

Scott twirled the signal gun in his hand. "The wait makes the spectacle more satisfying."

"I have no time for-"

Bang.

Rock flinched. Red smoke illuminated the ink-spilled seas.

Scott narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Did you...?"

Rock tightened his grip on his binoculars. "Don't be ridiculous." Rock had reason to fear Scott.

Liam Scott was a wolf unafraid to bite, a Soldier Dragon who stayed too long on the battlefield and became too fond of guts and bones. His destructive tendencies persisted even when he was discharged and had the chance for a quiet life. Arseny was spared from the worst of war because of its natural defenses, but Rock saw countless veterans returning with the same restless look in their eyes. The battlefield devoured their souls, trapping them in a purgatory many struggled to escape. Scott was different. The two crossed paths once and though his face was rugged and impassive like the side of a cliff, Rock could tell Liam Scott detested civil life by the hate he cast upon everything with his gaze. He enjoyed terrorizing the streets until he was caught in the act of beating a person to death. Arwen Mordecai gave the order to put Scott down, quietly. Everyone thought the man had died. No one survives the ASSR special agents. Rock, in a stroke of luck, stumbled on Scott in an alleyway, the man's legs blown off, a chunk of his torso gone.

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Rock nudged what he thought was a corpse but it stirred and Scott lifted his head to glare and snarl, teeth stained with blood, "Leave."

A man in his situation could only be dead or daring.

Rock squatted. "You've never looked better."

"What do you want? To finish me off?"

"We share the same goals that neither of us can fulfill alone."

Scott spat on Rock's shoe, "Lick my boots."

"Who do you want to kill?"

"What?"

Rock gestured at Scott's missing lower half, "The people who did this to you, or the person who did this to you?"

"I want to kill them all."

"Very good."

"Is this a trap?"

"It is not." He fished out a card from his breast pocket and put it on the ground in front of Scott.

"Basil Rock of Eel Loans. You might have heard of me."

Scott squinted, either from pain or the effort to remember. "I don't recall."

Rock stood. "I'll bring some people to help."

He smirked, "Stay alive."

And Basil Rock hurried away, vowing to never be left unattended with Liam Scott.

The warehouse walls shattered and a fireball imploded the roof, its heat scorching Scott's face like the sun on a hot summer day. The wind picked up and fanned the flames until the entire wharf was ablaze.

Rock hollered, "Yes! Burn! Burn!"

"He's dead! Is he really?" The crowd chanted, jockeying closer in disbelief to see the demise of a person born from nightmares. So many people moved to one side that the ship listed with the weight and threatened to capsize.

Scott swung his pistol at them. "You fools! Stay back or we'll sink."

Rock clutched Scott's suit, "No human could survive that!"

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He looked back at the fires, reassured Arwen Mordecai perished. "They're dead."

Scott tossed the gun into the ocean, "Celebrate! We must celebrate this moment."

Rock forced Scott to keep his hand up, "This is the birth of a new era! No longer will we hide in the gutters of society. We are free! Free to do what we want."

The wooden floorboards creaked as they went below decks to wine and dine and engage in decadent acts. Had they stayed a minute more they would've seen the black dragon with gold veins fly into the night.

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