Chapter 70: Loss

  Doctor chuckled, a satisfied smirk plastered all over his face.

  “Then give up-”

  In one fluid movement, John pulled his gun out. Time seemed to slow down as his thumb pulled the hammer down, the small, familiar click letting him know the weapon was primed. He felt the cool metal of the trigger under his finger and pulled.

  A deafening crack rang out, echoing around the now broken walls, and Doctor was forced to block. The surprise factor of the attack was enough for him to lose his grip for just a second, but it was enough.

  Fate ripped the tendrils out of his wrists and downed a health potion, quickly bringing him back from the brink of death. The pain of being pinned to the wall had woken him up, driving him back through the power of rage and frustration. His mind was sharp now, focused on one thing.

  “Danjo! Olivia! Move!” John yelled as Doctor’s hold over Danjo was lost.

  Danjo jolted as if he’d been woken up from a deep sleep.

  “Wh- where-”

  “Danjo, let’s go!”

  Olivia pulled her brother toward the exit.

  Doctor snarled as Fate continued to parry attack after attack. “You insects need to stop struggling! Why fight? You’ve lost!”

  Fate shook his head. “Never.”

  He stared his old enemy in the face. Whether in this life or the past, he had to settle it. His fears. His demons.

  But he didn’t know what to do. This was completely different from any fight he’d ever been in. When was the last time he’d fought against an opponent that outclassed him so much? This man seemed to hold control over him no matter where he went.

  “I don’t need you, Sixteen. You were never needed. Your skill may be better than that of the others, but ultimately, your soul is useless.”

  Doctor lashed out again, but Fate deflected attack after attack. He felt the blood coursing through his body, the shift in pressure changing as the tendrils approached him. He could feel his blade cutting into the mysterious material the tendrils were made of, his feet aware of every subtle change in the floor he was standing on.

  He was afraid. His body shook, holding him back, but his mind was set. He had to do this. John had given him an opportunity, and he would take it. Behind him, Danjo was struggling to get out, his body refusing to listen to him. Fate had to hold on.

  “I’ll finish this!” Fate yelled, charging forward.

  He saw it. An opening. He could end it here.

  John watched, hope rising in his chest. This was it. They could win—no, they had to win. Fate thrust his sword toward Doctor, the blade plunging toward the man’s chest. Victory was in sight.

  Fate was the [Protagonist], after all. That was how [Stories] went. The [Protagonist] won against the [Antagonist].

  Well. That was how it was supposed to go.

  A tendril slipped under Fate’s feet, tripping him up, but he never hit the floor. Doctor picked him up by the ankle, slammed him into the ceiling, then back to the floor, over and over again. The sounds of bones crunching mixed with the sound of shattering tiles as Fate’s was beaten and battered.

  “I outclass you in every way. Give up.”

  Fate was dropped, and he fell to the floor face-first. His mask shattered underneath him, revealing a bruised and broken face.

  “And you. Don’t think you’ve escaped.”

  Doctor turned and lashed out, a tendril flying toward Danjo.

  “Watch out!” John yelled, moving forward, but it was too late.

  Death approached the dwarf.

  “No!”

  Olivia leapt forward, raising her hand, but she didn’t have the strength to use magic yet. No spell came up to block Doctor’s attack, so she blocked with the only thing she had left.

  Her body.

  The tendril pierced through her stomach, blood dripping down as she was lifted off the floor. There was a sick dripping sound as drop after drop of blood made the pool on the ground larger and larger.

  “Bah,” Doctor snarled as he let go of his prey.

  Olivia fell to the floor, the blood splashing onto her younger brother’s face.

  “O-Olivia,” Danjo stammered, getting on his knees.

  Doctor looked disgusted as he sent out another tendril, but John was faster. Another gunshot rang out as John fired again, but it wasn’t enough to do any damage. That hadn’t been what John was going for. He just needed to buy enough time for Danjo and Olivia to have one last conversation. He couldn’t lose hope yet. There were still a few things for him to bank on.

  “You are being incredibly annoying,” Doctor growled as he turned to John. “But I can’t kill you. Not yet.”

  “Yeah,” John muttered. “Eyes on me, buddy. Ignore the two behind you.”

  Thankfully, that was exactly what he was doing. Olivia was bleeding out, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. John’s words came to mind. She was ready. All she needed was to tell her little brother one last thing.

  “Hey. You… you can use your healing, right?” Danjo said, his voice breaking.

  He seemed to know what was happening but didn’t want to accept it. He was smiling pathetically, holding Olivia’s hand. The room was loud with the noise of John taunting Doctor, but their soft, quiet voices still pierced through the chaos, making their way to the other’s ear.

  “R-right. I came to get you out. We’ll… we’ll escape, and-”

  “Danjo.”

  Olivia’s voice was soft and shaky, but it was somehow firm at the same time. She looked at John, who noticed her gaze despite Doctor’s terrifying aura. He nodded at her.

  “Last words,” John mouthed.

  Olivia nodded and closed her eyes.

  “I’ve… I wanted to watch you grow up. I wanted to see what you’d create. I don’t think that can happen now. But… Danjo. I know you’ll create amazing things. You’re my little artificer.”

  “No, we can escape. That’s what we’ve been working for. We… we can go back to normal! We can-”

  “Danjo. You have to accept it. Go on. I… I was selfish, Danjo. I raised you for myself. Because it brought me joy. But at the same time, I kept you sheltered for too long. I kept you from seeing the world. It’s time for you to find your own life. Go, be the greatest artificer the world has ever seen. Be happy. You’ve made wonderful friends.”

  “No! Olivia, that’s not true, you weren’t selfish! You saved me! We can make it out, right? I can’t just-”

  “I love you, Danjo.”

  Olivia reached up, her hand trembling as she brushed Danjo’s cheek. Streaks of red remained as tears poured down the dwarf’s face as he held her hand to his face, shaking.

  “Olivia, you- no, no. I can’t do it. I’m scared. I can’t do it alone, you have to stay with me! You have to be here, you can’t leave now, I’ll-”

  “Danjo.” Olivia’s voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t be there for you. To watch over you. But your friends will do that for me.”

  Her eyes closed as her hand dropped to the floor. John would’ve been devastated by the scene had the hope in his chest not overridden everything else. It was sick. He knew it. He was getting excited by the death of a person simply because he knew that it would benefit the growth of another. He was excited because the death of a [Character] benefited the growth of another.

  He was a terrible person. He knew it.

  He just didn’t care.

  He watched as Danjo looked up, red eyes, clenching his fists in their gauntlets.

  “I’ll kill you,” he said, tears streaming down his eyes. “I’ll kill you!”

  John watched in anticipation. This was it. Surely.

  Danjo flew forward using his weapon’s propulsion system, fists aimed directly at Doctor’s head. It looked like they would connect. Maybe electricity had something to do with Doctor’s weakness. After all, there had to be some reason there were tasers at the tips of his weapons, right?

  “Go, Danjo!” John yelled.

  The tasers connected, causing Doctor’s hair to stand on end, completing his mad scientist look. He tried to hit Danjo, but the dwarf evaded the attack using the propulsion system on his boots and dodged again as he threw a homemade flashbang, blinding everyone in the room. Raising a wall of earth, he pushed off, the gauntlets once again propelling him toward the enemy.

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  Doctor seemed too stunned, too confused to know what to do. Keep it up a little longer. Just a little longer, and Fate could do something.

  This was it.

  John’s hope was cut short as Doctor’s tendrils lashed out and pierced Danjo’s head, snuffing his light as one might snuff out a candle. The tendril snapped, tossing the dwarf’s corpse to the floor like a discarded rag, and it splattered with a sickly wet thunk.

  All that, and for what?

  Fate had been too busy recovering to help, but now that he’d downed a health potion, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared at the scene in disbelief. Two people, dead before his eyes, just like that. He began to hyperventilate. No. No, this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t- they couldn’t be dead.

  Still, John was feeling worse. His breathing was shaky as he stared at the scenario before him. This wasn’t how this was supposed to play out. Olivia should’ve been sacrificed for Danjo. Danjo was supposed to grow. Fate was supposed to grow. That was how the [Story] was supposed to go, they were supposed to win, and then they should leave.

  But that wasn’t what was happening. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

  Had he just let Olivia die for nothing?

  “...no,” John whispered, the word barely more than a breath.

  Doctor. He wasn’t just a [Character] anymore. [Deus Ex Machina] energy. It allowed John to be more than just a [Character], but what if someone else got a hold of that energy? John had never considered the possibility, but… what if Doctor was more than just an [Antagonist]? What if his role had transcended that of the [Story]?

  Just like John, he now existed outside the standard definition of the [Plot]. And while John would survive, there was no way to guarantee that everyone else would.

  A shiver ran through his body. All this work. For nothing.

  The hero would die here.

  “Your move, manaless boy.”

  “Doctor!” Fate roared.

  He started trembling, gathering strength, getting himself back up. Getting ready to fight.

  “That little princess of yours. Did you really think I wouldn’t get to her? You delayed me just a bit.”

  “You-”

  “I’ve known about you long since before you came here! I didn’t know you were Sixteen, but it makes sense now. You’re still the stubborn fool you were before.”

  Doctor grinned in the face of Fate’s defying glare.

  “No. Your tyranny ends here.”

  “Will it?”

  “I’ll stop you. I’ll-”

  “No, you won’t. I’ll get you. Then I’ll get her. I’ll make her my doll. Your little princess was never yours to begin with.”

  “You leave Celestia alone! If you put even a hand on her, I’ll-”

  There was a loud smack as a tendril slapped Fate’s face, ending the outburst.

  “You don’t get a say in what I do.”

  He raised a spike tendril, positioning it above Fate’s head. He raised his sword, but he was shaking. He turned to John, looking for a familiar face, but was nearly broken by what he saw. John, normally so confident, so cocky, was shaken. Broken by something. Fate’s heart skipped a beat. Why? Why was John, of all people, like that?

  The tendril struck, and Fate raised his blade, deflecting the attack, but it pierced his arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. Another attack struck his side, shattering his ribcage and knocking him down.

  “You don’t get to say anything at all.”

  Doctor calmly walked forward, his footsteps once more echoing throughout the room. Despite the violent scene, the area was quiet. Prota was still unconscious in the corner, John, shaking on his cross, useless as he struggled to control his mind.

  Fate had no one coming to help him.

  Was this the end? Maybe it was time to accept defeat. In the end, he wasn’t strong enough. Right, it was time to just hang it up—

  “Destiny! Are you going to give up here?!”

  A swirl of heat blasted him in the face, and he opened his eyes.

  “You’re not a quitter! This isn’t the boy I trained! What are you doing?”

  In front of him stood Kit, flames swirling around her as five tails swished behind her. John’s eyes snapped open. Right. There was Kit. Surely, surely there was something left. Some kind of hope. Some last stand they could take. Doctor was the [Antagonist]. He had to lose.

  “A Mystic? This gets more and more interesting!” he cried out with glee, pulling his tendrils back. “If I could get the soul of a Mystic…”

  He began to drool at the prospect, his tendrils wiggling around.

  “Destiny! Get up!” Kit roared. “I’ll hold him off! We can’t let everyone’s deaths be in vain!”

  The fox growled as her nails lengthened, turning into claws. Red streaks were left behind as her figured blurred, moving faster than the eye could see. John's heart began to rise but immediately fell back down as Doctor matched her speed. Marks began to appear on the walls and the floors, cracking as chips of tile flew everywhere. Flames roared, lightning flashed, but they were extinguished just as quickly as they came. Fate couldn’t keep track of what was happening, but as the pressure in the room rose, he knew there wasn’t any time to spare.

  “Prota!” Fate exclaimed, popping his second health potion.

  He ran over to the small girl, grabbing her head and pouring a potion down her throat.

  “...John,” she mumbled as her eyes fluttered open, regaining consciousness.

  “Kit is buying us time! We need to regroup and replan!”

  Suddenly, there was a loud crash as Kit was thrown into a wall. Her abdomen was pierced by a tendril, and red blood spilled out, leaking toward the ground. Fate dropped the potion in his hand and let out a primal cry as his teacher was defeated in the span of a minute.

  “You Mystics think you’re gods, but the god here is me. You’re nothing but fools,” Doctor said, slowly walking toward Kit. “I wanted your soul, but you’re too much of a risk to keep alive.”

  “What the… how… did you…”

  Doctor grinned.

  “I am god. That is all you need to know. Magic such as yours is child’s play. Stopping time? Impressive, but simply not enough.”

  Kit coughed up blood as Doctor approached her.

  “Do you see? You held no chance in the first place! Even a Mystic could not overpower me! Your gods are nothing before me! I am above them! What chance do you have? This whole time, there was never any window of opportunity. I simply allowed you to survive. Your lives could’ve been snuffed as easily as the wick of a candle.”

  He raised a tendril, ready to strike Kit down. However, the Mystic wasn’t looking at her opponent. She turned to Fate, the light in her eyes fading. She reached out, her hand stained red from the blood pooling out from her stomach. The liquid gleamed in the firelight, Kit’s body burning away as she pointed at Fate.

  “Des… remember. You are… more than just the hero. What I told you… you don’t need to carry the weight of the world. Just those… you…”

  With that, her arm fell to her side, her body burning away.

  Fate fell to his knees, his eyes wide and shaking. Shivers ran down his body as if his veins were electric wires, chilling him down to the bone. His chest grew tight as voices entered his head, mocking him, attacking him.

  I’m not enough.

  I’m too weak.

  Again, I couldn’t save anyone.

  He let out a guttural scream that shook the walls. Despair, rage, shock and pain, all expressed in one roar. Images flashed through his mind, tormenting him, taunting him. He couldn’t do it.

  “You, too. It’s a shame, but your soul is also no longer needed. Goodbye, Sixteen. It was a cute reunion while it lasted.”

  Fate’s eyes snapped open. No. There was no way he could let Doctor win. He would never let this man win.

  Remember. You are more than just the hero.

  He stood up and grabbed his sword.

  What is your blade’s purpose? It’s more than just a tool.

  Even if he died, he would fight till his dying breath. This man had tormented him in not one, but two lives. He couldn’t let it go. Everyone that had suffered. Everyone that had died. He might not be able to save them, but he wouldn’t let his life end the same way. He wouldn’t die for nothing. He’d avenge them.

  Their deaths would not be in vain.

  “Come at me.”

  He opened his eyes, and two miniature suns blazed.

  [God Slaying Sword: 50%]

  Wind swirled around Fate’s feet as he sheathed his blade, the leather barely containing the glow of the sword. The dust began to rise as Fate closed his eyes, grabbing the handle. Everything would be put into this one strike. It was all or nothing.

  In the corner of the room, John was burnt out. He no longer knew how to feel. All he could do was sit hopelessly and watch. He’d tried to prevent Kit’s death by telling her that her sacrifice wasn’t worth Fate’s life, but that hadn’t worked, either. There was nothing left to do but watch.

  Watch as the [Author’s] will be played out in front of him, hopeless to change it. For the first time, he was longing for his role as a [Character]. He desperately wanted to get involved, to fight, to wipe that pathetic smile off of Doctor’s face, but in the moment he wanted it most, his abilities were restrained in the stupidest way possible.

  The room was quiet as all of Doctor’s tendrils flew forward, poised to kill, but Fate was faster. His blade came out, tracing a thin golden line across the tendrils and the room. The walls shattered, dirt pouring out from behind as the very earth was shaken. A singular golden line traced through the ceiling and floor, stopped at where Doctor stood.

  “That… scared me for a second. That hurt. I’m surprised.”

  Doctor remained unharmed.

  With a single push, he sent Fate flying. There was a loud crack as Fate slammed against the wall, knocked unconscious. The blade fell to the ground one last time, the golden glow fading slowly.

  “Do you see? Even that couldn’t stop me, manaless boy. What now?”

  John stopped struggling. Yes. It was time to face it. It was his loss. Something, somewhere, had gone wrong. He didn’t know what. He didn’t know how. But Doctor wasn’t just a [Character] anymore. The [Plot] he’d once known had been defied.

  Or had he been wrong all along? Maybe Fate wasn’t the [Protagonist]. Maybe he’d been going on a wild goose chace this whole time.

  It was time to admit it.

  “So… that’s it, huh? This is how it ends?”

  “It’s good to see you understand.”

  “...I’d like to see it till the end, though. Let me play it out. Just until you kill me.”

  Doctor stared at John, then let out a laugh.

  “Very well. There is nothing you can do, regardless of how much time you buy. I can play a little longer.”

  John went to the board, but realistically, what would two more moves do? He’d buy a few more minutes. Despite all that, there was a sort of desperation he had left in him. A feeling that he wanted to take something with him to the grave. A feeling of getting one last hit in, even if that meant he lost.

  [Messaging system is back online.]

  “...?” John frowned.

  Right. Why was he so depressed? He had [Plot Armor] on his side. He didn’t like to be reminded of the fact. He’d renamed the ability to [Reset] for a reason. But he hadn’t lost yet. And if he was going to lose now, then he might as well get something out of it. He’d get Doctor in the next try, but for now, it was time to go out the way he wanted.

  [Prota. Run. Now.]

  She stared at the message. Why? Why would she leave him to his death after all this?