Chapter 69: Your Turn

  Losing. It was possible, but the closer the team got, the more John felt it becoming a reality. He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest, stress causing his body to tense up. Sweat dripped down his cheek, but he couldn’t bring his hand up to wipe it away. The more he thought about it, the more it felt like “reality” and not “fiction.”

  Someone else having his abilities wasn’t supposed to be part of the story.

  “Stop. Don’t come. It’s not worth it.”

  He wanted to yell those things out loud, to get the message to them somehow, but even if he could, what was the point? He’d be stuck here, and then he’d eventually die, and then he’d [Reset].

  But something was nagging at him. He’d always maintained that [Resets] would stop working at some point. He’d always assumed that he’d have fair warning and would be able to prepare accordingly, but what if that wasn’t true? What if [Resets] stopped working right now, with no warning?

  What would he do then?

  No more time to think. They were here.

  The door flew off its hinges, crashing into the room as Fate kicked it down, storming in, blade ready.

  The group came piling in, one after another. Prota, then Danjo, all ready to battle. Their tension vanished as they saw that there was nothing in the room. Just John on the cross, Olivia chained to the ground, and a single frail man standing with his back to them.

  “John!” Prota cried out.

  Danjo also stepped forward. “O-Olivia? Is that you-”

  They were about to step forward, but Fate stuck his arm out, holding them back. They looked at him questioningly, but he was too tense to try to reassure them.

  “You two. Remember. This isn’t the time to act irrationally.”

  Despite his words, a strange anger burned in his eyes. His hands were shaking as he held his sword in front of him.

  “You! You’re the one known as Doctor, right? You’ve done way too much. It’s time to pay for your sins. There’s no one else here. You can’t possibly defeat all of us.”

  Doctor started clapping slowly as he turned around at a casual pace.

  “Bravo! Bravo! You’ve done it! You, the good guys, have broken into my lair and slain my underlings. I’m alone and helpless. You’ve won.”

  He finally faced the group, a smirk on his face. Prota and Danjo were still eyeing their loved ones, but Fate’s reaction was completely unexpected. His sword fell out of his hands, the sound of metal echoing through the silent room as he saw Doctor’s face. His body went stiff as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “You… no, that’s not possible. You can’t be here. That’s not possible.”

  “Me? Oh, do we know each other?” Doctor said, his eyes widening. “Mm… there aren’t many people who know me, though.”

  “You… you’re the medic. You’re that psycho. You…”

  “The medic… ah, I see now. There aren’t any in this world that would call me by that name.”

  Doctor clasped his hands together and smiled. “You were one of the rats at the military base, weren’t you?”

  John raised his eyes. It wasn’t exactly surprising, but it was definitely interesting to see someone with such a close connection to Fate so early on. He’d have to ask him about that later.

  “What a coincidence. For us to meet in another world… but which one are you?”

  “Sixteen,” Fate growled, bending down to pick up his sword, never breaking eye contact with Doctor. “That was my callsign.”

  “Sixteen… oh, yes. You showed the most potential of them all. It’s a shame you died protecting your teammates. I thought we drilled survival into you. You weren’t supposed to form bonds. That girl. I hope she got what was coming to her. She was the one that corrupted you, after all.”

  “Fate?” Danjo whispered. “What’s he talking about?”

  Fate, however, wasn’t listening. No, it would’ve been more appropriate to say that he couldn’t hear at all. His eyes were unfocused, his eyes trembling as his vision went red. He could hear his breath, his pants heavy as he reached down, picking up his blade. His knuckles went white as he gripped the handle, his entire body shaking with rage as he saw nothing but the enemy in front of him.

  “She was a friend. She was family. You don’t deserve to even think of her.”

  “She was trash, and she died like trash. You all died pointless, meaningless deaths.”

  “Shut up!”

  Fate’s eyes lit up as he clenched his teeth, his rage completely overtaking him.

  “I’ll kill you. I’ll tear you to pieces, here and now.”

  With a terrifying cry, he ran forward, brandishing his blade high above his head. He swung time after time, but Doctor dodged with ease, barely avoiding the attacks every time. There was no tension in his movements. He was playing with Fate as a cat toys with a mouse.

  Danjo immediately fled to the furthest part of the room, trying his best to survive, but Prota joined in, firing spells as best she could. She clenched her teeth, frustrated. The room itself was working against her. Frozen Flame. Blossom of Ice. Both were spells that would easily kill John, even when not aimed at him, and she couldn’t risk that. But without those spells, what could she do? How was she supposed to help? Icicle, fireball, again and again, but ultimately yielding no results.

  It was strange. Doctor looked so frail and weak, yet he was easily dodging all the attacks. Logic had gone out the window. There was no sticking to the plan anymore. Everything they’d been taught about control. About finishing it here. About not letting emotions get to them.

  All of that had gone out the window. The only thought in everyone’s mind was getting what they wanted. About claiming what was theirs.

  “This ends here!” Fate roared, blinded with rage.

  The next strike ripped through the walls, tearing the room to shreds, yet Doctor remained unharmed.

  “Ah, you’re still the same as always, Sixteen. Headstrong. Ambitious. Yet utterly blind, still playing the role of the pawn in a larger game of chess. You were never a leader. Just a survivor.”

  Fate swung, and Doctor easily sidestepped, grabbing the boy’s wrist in the process. He lifted and swung the hero like a rag doll, throwing him into the wall and shattering what tiles hadn’t already been destroyed. A spurt of blood poured out from under Fate’s mask as he fell to the floor, trembling as he struggled to get up.

  “It seems a lesson is in order.”

  He walked toward Fate, withdrawing a scalpel from his coat. It wasn’t anything strange or violent. It was just an ordinary scalpel. Thus, Fate’s reaction upon seeing the surgical tool was bizarre. Despite his best efforts, he fell back down, shaking like a baby as the enemy slowly approached him.

  “No- no,” he gasped, trying to clutch onto his sword but desperately failing to even hold the handle. “No!”

  “That’s the thing with you bugs,” Doctor sighed. “You can’t get over your traumas. An illogical move. You have no control over your own mind. Realistically, you should know that this cannot do anything to you. Hah. Very well. A reformation is in order. It’ll be the same as before. Time for treatment.”

  His steps echoed throughout the room, barely audible as he inched closer and closer to Fate. The atmosphere had gone from violent to deadly quiet in a heartbeat.

  “Ready?”

  Doctor’s moment never came. A fireball blasted his back, causing him to stumble a little and interrupting his plans. It was pointless, though. There was no one to capitalize on the ambush, and so the fireball may as well have been a tickle.

  “You.” Doctor slowly turned to Prota, a wide smile stretching onto his face. “I have yet to get to you. Honestly, after seeing Sixteen, I forgot. You almost didn’t come. I need you the most. You have no idea how valuable you are.”

  Prota saw the look in the man’s eyes and shuddered. A year of trauma came flashing back, overcoming her. Her mind was falling apart. Despite everything she’d been through, her trauma wasn’t something so easily removed. Those eyes. They pierced her core, took her apart and saw her as something inhuman. They tore her apart from the inside, breaking her, telling her that she was nothing more than trash. Garbage. Something to be beaten, tortured and killed.

  In a flash, she was transported back to the streets. A time where the world itself wanted to kill her. There was only one solution. Back to her shell she went. The only place of safety she knew.

  “I need your soul. Soul Steal. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. Once I get your soul out of your stupid flesh, I’ll have it all! I’ll have all I need-”

  Fate didn’t wait for Doctor to finish his speech and charged. It was pointless. He would’ve been better off playing dead. Doctor didn’t even need to turn his head to block Fate’s blow. His body was still ridiculously weak, his muscles lax as he struggled to overcome his fears.

  “You need to learn how to stay down. Bad children don’t act unless spoken to.”

  Another tendril came out of Doctor’s coat and flung Fate away, blood splattering as he fell once more. He turned and prepared to attack once more, ready to deliver the final blow. John clenched his teeth. Was this how it was going to end? Both their strongest fighters, put down in an instant, traumatized by their pasts before they could even do anything of significance.

  Suddenly, the sound of chains clanking interrupted everyone as Danjo fiddled with Olivia’s binds. They’d fallen to the ground after coming undone, but neither Danjo nor Olivia had expected the sound to be so loud.

  “Danjo, run!” Olivia yelled as her collar came off.

  Hope rose in everyone’s hearts. Right, if they escaped, if they all just managed to run away, then they could try again. The mission was to defeat Doctor, yes, but they couldn’t do that if they were dead. And if they couldn’t defeat Doctor, then they may as well rescue as many people as they could.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I can’t just leave you here!”

  “Go! Now!”

  “But-”

  The argument might’ve gone on far longer had Doctor not interrupted.

  “You. Code five.”

  Danjo stopped moving.

  “Don’t let your sister escape. If she moves, kill yourself.”

  The dwarf silently took his gauntlets off his sack and equipped them, priming them at his own head.

  “Danjo?” Fate yelled, struggling to lift his head off the ground. “But- I checked! I made sure! Why are you-”

  Doctor laughed despicably.

  “You checked, did you? All this time. I knew you fools were coming. Albert, the one person who might be able to do anything, was taken care of. Breaker, my untrusting subordinate, was also taken care of. Sixteen! You were playing in the palm of my hands, as always! Did you really think you could win?”

  Fate’s head dropped, laying on the ground as a pool of blood slowly formed underneath him.

  “But… no, there’s no way…”

  What else was there for them to do?

  Olivia, frozen with fear as she watched her brother, prepared to take his own life. Fate’s mind and body had been shattered by a singular man who’d overpowered him in both his lives. Prota, traumatized by the ghosts of her past.

  Despair. Injected into everyone’s blood by a singular man. He had complete control over every single character in the room.

  That description failed to fit exactly one person.

  “You guys got anything better to do? Or is this gonna be all?”

  His voice was the same as always. Mildly annoyed, maybe, but otherwise calm.

  “Wh- what?”

  “Fate. Your ability. Does it check the ‘absolute truth?’ Or does it check that the target ‘believes what they’re saying?’ Do you even know?”

  “I-”

  “I’m gonna assume it’s the latter, then. Good to know.”

  Doctor was just sitting there, listening. John couldn’t tell if this was his arrogance or laziness on the [Author’s] part, but right now, none mattered. The fight had been slow, almost painfully slow for such a vital event, not to mention completely one-sided. That wouldn’t do, not for a fight like this. If they needed a miracle at any point, they needed one now.

  And if anyone was going to bring one, it was going to be Fate.

  “You’re better than this. I’ve never seen you lose these. Come on! Get up!”

  The hero struggled to his feet. His mask was cracked and chipped, revealing blood trickling down his mouth.

  “That’s it! You’re not just some loser, right?! You can win! You have to win!”

  Fate used his sword as a cane and propped himself up, trembling. Slowly, he reached up and wiped the blood away, his eyes glaring at his opponent.

  “You’re a hero! You’ve taken down a chimera! You were chosen! You don’t back down here, you don’t give up! What’s going to happen to everyone if you lose now?! Fate! You have to win!”

  John watched as the [Protagonist] of the [Story] grew in front of his eyes. This was it. Right. The growth of the main character. Unrelenting in the face of death. Exponential growth in times of need. He just hoped he was right.

  Bloodied, battered and bruised, Fate turned to Doctor, sword hanging from his hand. Although his body was worn down, his soul was not, golden eyes blazing with a newfound passion.

  Doctor’s grin faded from his face. “Seriously. You people are no fun. If you get knocked down, you should learn to stay down. Although… no, no, this is better. Right. This is how it should be.”

  The grin returned. “Struggle for me.”

  A flurry of tendrils erupted from his coat, all directed at Fate. It was a completely one-sided fight. Fate was holding on, but just barely. He would deflect five attacks, but the sixth would get through, nicking his leg. He could dodge ten, but the eleventh would land. Through it all, Doctor’s calm face taunted them.

  But Fate was holding on. He was fighting back, and he wasn’t dead. Not yet.

  “That’s it! Struggle more! More!”

  “I won’t stop!” Fate roared. “I’ll keep going until I win. You can’t keep getting away with this!”

  “Oh? But I can. And I will.”

  “Not this time. I won’t let you take them away from me. Not after I’ve been given a second chance.”

  The two continued to clash. Fate’s sword grew stronger and stronger, and while he looked like a fragile puppet on the verge of shattering, he somehow grew stronger with every swing he took.

  “Prota!” John yelled.

  He’d gotten one fighting force back into action. He needed to get another. That was all he could do right now. He was no longer the Deus Ex Machina his power was named after, but there were still things he could do. His knowledge. His curse. His blessing.

  He would use it to the most of his ability.

  Prota’s eyes snapped open. That voice. It was familiar. Who…?

  “Are you just gonna lie there?”

  Right. It was familiar. John. She wanted something. What did she want?

  “Get up!”

  Right. She was here for John.

  “I don’t know why you came, but you’re here now, right?! Did you come to lose?! Or did you come to win?!”

  Protect. Right. She was here to rescue John.

  Reaching into every reserve of mental strength she had, she sent her tendrils out and reached for Doctor’s mana. Someone this strong had to have a near-infinite reserve of it, right? With that, she could do something. She could fight, she could go on, but— what? Where was the mana? It wasn’t there. There was only something else. A foreign energy. It felt penetrable, but… she was scared. She hesitated. She didn’t know what to do. It felt dangerous, as if tapping into that source would be tapping into her death.

  That moment of hesitation was her downfall once more. The energy in Doctor’s core reached out and slapped her away, and her tendrils fell back as if they’d touched a hot stove.

  “You… you dare?!” Doctor yelled, lashing out and knocking Prota into a wall.

  A handful of tendrils shot toward her and pinned her down, restraining her movement. Another one rose up and smashed her in the face, knocking her out.

  “Prota!” Fate yelled, putting all his strength into knocking away a tendril.

  A chance. He rushed forward, but it was futile. Tendrils pierced through Fate’s wrists, snapping bone and flesh as they pinned him against the wall. He screamed in agony as he struggled to get back to his feet, but it was pointless.

  Doctor had completely overpowered them.

  “You fool! You should focus on yourself instead!” Doctor exclaimed. “That’s what got you killed before! How have you not learned your lesson?”

  Fate struggled, but he was helpless. Just like that, the room went silent once more. Barely a minute had passed. John’s hopes sank once more. There was no power up here. There was no Deus Ex Machina, no saving force, nothing. No power of friendship. No strength of will. Fate should be winning. But he wasn’t.

  They were fighting against something that never should’ve existed in the first place.

  “Manaless boy.”

  John looked up.

  “Don’t you see now? It’s hopeless. You, too, realize it, right? You tried, but in the end, it was futile. It’s checkmate.”

  Doctor pointed to the board on the floor. It’d somehow remained untouched during the scuffle that’d gone on.

  “Go on. Make your next move.”

  To John’s surprise, Doctor undid his binds, tentacle slithering forward, the man himself not moving a step. He rubbed his wrists and ankles, sore from being bound for several days. He was surprised that there were no further complications.

  Doctor indicated for John to step forward.

  He obeyed meekly. What other choice did he have? Looking around the room, every single one of their fighting forces was down. Fate, pinned against the wall. Danjo, threatening to kill himself. Prota, who was still knocked out. John closed his eyes. What was he supposed to do? [Reset] while he still could? Fight back?

  “I’m sorry,” John said calmly.

  To no one. To everyone. He just felt as if he had to apologize.

  If he’d played his pieces better or predicted things just a bit more accurately… well, that was what [Resets] were for, right? He hated to admit it, but defeat was defeat. There was nothing he could do about it. With that understanding, the pride in him was gone. He shook his head. Why had he felt such a way? How had he let such a foolish thing affect him? His motto was efficiency. This was not efficient. The stress in his body melted away. Right. [Resets] weren’t gone yet. He was being paranoid about something that had yet to happen.

  Go back. Consequences didn’t exist for someone like him. Right. Why was he scared?

  “Here,” John sighed, making a move.

  He was stalling. It was the move that would help him survive the longest. A small part of him was still stubborn. Still proud. That would never truly disappear, and it was why he’d never be entirely efficient, but it was fine.

  “And you know, don’t you?” Doctor grinned, using a tendril to make the next move. “It’s checkmate.”

  “I’ve got a few more moves left.”

  “But even you know that it’s nothing more than a hopeless struggle. Why not surrender?”

  “Why not play?” John countered.

  “It’s good manners to surrender in a losing position,” Doctor pointed out.

  John rubbed his chin, looking for a way out, an unexpected move, anything.

  “You don’t look like the guy to care about manners.”

  “I’m quite polite. Why would someone like me be a vulgar barbarian? Intelligence is what makes us, manaless boy.”

  He made his next move. Doctor’s move was made no more than half a second later. Well, there was no need for him to think. All he had to do was continue his attack, and he’d win.

  “Again. Give up. There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll admit that you show remarkable persistence, but that’s all you have. And I can see it. You don’t want to lose your friends, do you? You claim otherwise, but you’re afraid to lose them. You don’t want to see them die.”

  John flinched and looked up at the board. Was it true? He didn’t want them to die? Fate. Danjo. Were they even his friends?

  …friends. John didn’t know. But in a sudden burst of emotion, he decided that he didn’t want to lose. Even if Fate and Danjo weren’t his friends, there was Prota. And even though she would come back, he didn’t want her to die. Not after he’d told her to live. Not when dying wasn’t part of the plan.

  John sighed, annoyed at himself. His actions weren’t logical. They weren’t good for the story. He was just doing whatever the fuck he wanted, acting in irrational ways. It didn’t flow well. It didn’t make sense. Give up. Try. Emotion. No emotion. His entire [Character] was messed up. He was weak, ridiculously so, and yet was at the same time infinitely powerful.

  He wasn’t a [Protagonist] nor an [Antagonist]. He had no character development. His actions and thoughts often conflicted. He didn’t care to pay that close attention to the things around him. He had no moral code. No sense of justice. No drive.

  As a [Character], he was contradictory and yet perfect. Capable of solving everything yet utterly useless at the same time. The solution to every problem, yet unable to bring forth victory himself. A shackled [Gary Stu], a disgustingly crafted being barely held back for the sake of clinging onto whatever quality the [Author] was capable of.

  But he was more than just a [Character]. Unexplainable. Unpredictable.

  Human.

  “What can I do? Nothing,” John nodded. “You’re right.”

  Every last conscious person stared at him. He was their last hope. What could they do? If John was giving up, then what?

  “Yeah. It’s lost.”