Mhaieiyu

Arc 1, Chapter 9
Wasted Miracle

Staring back at the approaching, ember-spitting man before him, charging towards the veteran like a rhinoceros, Emris could only form a dazed smirk before feeling the soldier's fiery fist pummel his chest. Feeling nothing short of a pseudo-train ramming into his ribcage, Emris’ feet dragged against the loose sand as he was pushed back a few feet, the shockwave in his chest nearly splintering his bones. A decent blow, to be sure; but not nearly as powerful as could be, which demonstrated a notable amount of restraint. Charming. Looking back at the irritated pyromaniac with a sneer, Emris noticed the pinprick-eyed boy who had just witnessed the senseless violence before him.

"Oy, not in front of the kid, eh?" Emris said.

Cracking several joints in his body, the fierce martial that had so brazenly assaulted his superior grinned maliciously. "Said it yourself. Tardiness ain't forgivable."

"Aye, when it's ye lot. I'll take my time," the Brigadier excused, cackling as the short-fused temper of his subordinate practically leaked through his complexion. With a burst of flame, the enraged soldier stepped forward, hell-bent on exemplifying his assigned drunkard of a teacher, before feeling his legs swept from under his feet. With a stumble and a yelp, his steady force and momentum were simultaneously dispelled, leaving him strewn on his back just to look up at his taller co-worker, he caressing his trusty lance.

"Avel, you cocky dipshit!" the victim of the fall frothed as the lancer simply pushed his glasses back, snorting like a pompous noble.

"You should've seen the fall. You really should watch your feet in battle, you know," Avel said with a sneer.

Seeing a perpetual cycle preparing to take effect, Emris raised a disapproving hand.

"Oi, enough of that. I'm here, so ye can all——"

"Two hundred and forty-six minutes," a feminine, troubling voice spoke behind him. Immediately, Emris was pouring with sweat. Something about the tone...

"Elena, don't screw around, aight? We've got work to be doin'. No time to lose," Emris said, demonstrating a lack of a capacity to dissuade his aggravated comrades. So much for that leadership bonus.

While the boy looked back and forth between the mutually understanding individuals he called adults, a scene that he would've never conceived nor needed to see unravelled before his eyes.

Taking a fully automatic rifle into each arm, the woman, who seemed little more than mildly annoyed moments ago, showed the truest form of her displeasure. Cracking her neck as a singular warning, Emris gulped, suddenly vanishing from his place only to reappear a few feet away as Elena started unloading her munitions with a continuous war cry, stopping at nothing as she shifted her heavy guns towards her target's unpredictable teleportation patterns. His perception hindered by the deafening sound of her guns, Tokken managed to just barely catch a few glimpses of the impossibly agile Brigadier, whose motions had been reduced to shifting blurs as he sporadically disappeared and reappeared here, there and elsewhere throughout their assigned training space within the vast stadium. Despite his streak of evasion, Emris' biggest mistake would prove fatal as he appeared within range of the pissed-off soldier he had failed to calm down earlier. His second mistake was that he just so happened to use that window as a chance to catch his breath.

With a wolf’s grin, the Brigadier's back was struck, causing the veteran to recoil via a messy sequence of magical relocations; catching one-too-many bullets in the process. Tokken watched in horror with a slacked jaw as Emris' body gradually became riddled with bullets, reducing his imperceptible movements to a dulled pace as his frame deteriorated. The lass had reloaded merely once, her magazines bearing twice as many slugs as the average firearm. Seeing as Emris' body lashed out in reaction to the merciless destruction, the overly-proud, incompetent leader dropped like a poorly-cooked steak onto the ground, smoke pouring out of his unthinkably numerous wounds. His chest had likely sponged dozens of bullets, which disintegrated several pieces of his spine and ribs, and left his organs as ash-flavoured morsels at best. His legs had been nearly severed by the terrifying force of the one-woman firing squad, and his head had become unrecognisable as several holes gaped through his skull; his jaw shattered and hanging like a spring.

There were no other words to put it. Emris had to be dead. When he glanced over to the other members of the platoon, who looked disinterested at the event, Tokken’s nausea peaked from just how bizarre, morbid and incomprehensible it all seemed. His head spinning, the boy kneeled down to puke, emptying his stomach onto the sand beneath his feet.

"Oi, oi! Come on, kid— hey this isn't a goddamn toilet!" Avel complained, disgusted by the bile.

"He just... she just... hurk——!" Tokken gagged, hurling whatever was left as if to defy the unusually calm soldier that whined over such trivialities, even at a time like this.

"Calm it, Ave. Kid's probably got no clue," Elena spoke up, walking off to replenish her munitions.

Kicking the earth, the lancer shouted, "You're the one who needs to calm her tits. Victus... Ay, Ignus! Check the big man. Heavens forbid he stops healing!" the Colonel said, earning a disgruntled moan from the pyro before turning his attention to the sickened juvenile.

Lending him a reluctant, germophobic hand, Tokken was abruptly thrown back onto his feet, feeling the hand that lent him aid snake away with a snap.

"Ugh! Don't you dare come back here just to filthy the place up, understand?"

"What..." Tokken mumbled, his tone reducing to a robotic mess as he tiredly looked around him.

Seeing himself in the midst of an amply-sized training area, he remembered where he was. Emris' smoking body was being poked by a bored sociopath, while the girl who disintegrated him was stocking up as if wanting more. What's more, the tall, gowned snob could hardly tolerate breathing the same air as him.

"What do you mean 'what'? You could say 'thank you', instead," Avel sighed, giving his lance a few skilful swings. "I'm Avel, 14th Colonel of the Syndicate. The pleasure's yours, if anything."

"So... you're just shy. Right... So, why is Emris dying so normal to you? You didn't even flinch!" Tokken said, refusing to look in the corpse's direction. A fair feeling to have, all things considered.

"I'm not shy, kid. You're supposed to earn your superior's respect——"

Distraught by the events that had just unfolded, coupled with a patience that had been worn thin by this Facility's insane residents, Tokken interjected, saying, "I don't work here, so you can cut the high-and-mighty talk off right now."

Staggering from the sudden seriousness of Tokken’s voice, the Colonel scratched his head.

"Victus, I was joking..." Avel muttered, casting a careless glance to the Brigadier's twitching body, growling to himself at the tactless moron beside him. "We don't care because we're used to it. We aren't new here, you know; we go through this same routine every Wednesday."

"Wh—What?! Do you guys just have expendable Brigadiers? Isn't he supposed to be important?"

"What are you going on about? Of course we don't have Brigs just lying around. There's five left, last I checked.”

"How could this possibly be a routine, then!" the teen said, clawing at his face in frustration.

"What's there to talk about? Whether it's Elena or Ignus, the guy gets wrecked. And then——"

"Ghlah! Fuggin'... Vicks, oych..." a familiar voice gargled, as the assuredly dead Brigadier suddenly raised a hand, pulling himself up with an unpleasant squelch. While his body was most assuredly destroyed, his bleeding had almost entirely ceased, and his jaw had recomposed itself to a more presentable degree, permitting his speech. As the veteran slowly stood up, his many wounds became less visible, leaving little more than the holes cut into his clothes to remember them by as his skin, bones and organs repaired almost miraculously in the span of a few minutes at most.

By the time the zombie-paced Emris had started walking, he seemed not much different from how he was before, already showing his trademark attitude towards his inferior co-workers.

"Fuckin' A, Elena. Leave somethin' for the dogs to chew on, eh?" Emris complained while clutching his stomach. "Even Fireboy ain't this vicious. Shite, I said not in front of the fuckin' kid, didn't I?!"

Seeing the man rise to his feet after enduring such damage completely annihilated any comprehension Tokken felt he had over this world. That, coupled with the lack of sleep and nausea that was only flaring up once more, gave way to a spontaneous need for rest; the boy seeing the world fade to black before collapsing.

"Oy, mind the kid, mind the kid!" Emris warned, not being quick enough to catch the boy's fall. To his surprise, a small gust of wind cushioned the impact, nullifying any potential damages. Raising his eyes to the culprit walking towards them, the Brigadier raised a brow as his eyes met his rank superior.

"Xavier," the veteran said with an awkward expression.

"You really should conduct yourselves better than this, comrades. Such reckless behaviour with a child, honestly..."

The graceful soldier chuckled softly. Whatever Fely's angelic behaviour lacked via his deeper creepiness, this man seemed to flaunt flawlessly. With the man in front of him, Xavier pulled him into a hug, getting a yelp from Emris' recovering self.

"I exist too, thank you," Elena said sarcastically, raising a hand halfway. Pulling back and leaving Emris to shake the pain away, the serviceman smiled, radiating a spine-tingling warmth.

"Ah, of course. The tempestuous Elena; how do you fare?"

Despite his words, the female trooper simply huffed. "You best not forget. I have a bad habit of aiming low."

While Emris silently winced, thankful for her arguably forgiving aim, Xavier looked towards the two others, ignoring the blasphemy spoken.

"Ignus, Avel. Good to see you too."

"Hah! Nice seein' you too, boss," Ignus saluted, giving him a joyous-yet-nutty smirk.

"Oi! When do I see that kind of respect?! I'm yer goddamn Captain!" Emris barked.

With a hand falling onto Xavier's shoulder, Avel pushed up his glasses. "Permission to set him straight?"

Laughing awkwardly, Xavier shook his head, pointing at Emris' restoring wounds. "I think Miss Elena has shown more than enough punishment, don't you think?"

Turning to face Emris' annoyed gaze, the soldier whose authority and respect rivalled that of Kev's smiled. "I expect more care for the youth from a man such as you, Emris. I'll take care of it this time. Let's speak, once you're done."

"Aye, sure. These sods make it real hard. Hear that, scoundrels——? Fuck!" Emris antagonised, interrupted as Ignus thwacked his head, much to the amusement of his platoon and, to an extent, the calm yet indomitable Xavier.

Carrying the unconscious teen to the seats that surrounded the gigantic room, the younger veteran sat down alongside his gently placed body, taking a seat so as to observe the training of his comrades; Xavier having already finished his duties. He was a man worthy of honorifics, but the Facility had grown to irk him these last few years. Had it not been for his lack of loyalty, he would have assumed the General's status a good while ago. His obligation in training others was far from troublesome, but the fact that he filled the youth with aspirations of serving such a place, did. Especially the cadets, who had likely not once seen the hells of war, nor witnessed the darkest endeavours of this sneakily morbid Facility.

Among the raging yells, gunshots and blows exchanged throughout the session, with Emris' body often being used as a punching bag of sorts, the young lad soon found his consciousness returning to him between flickers of his eyelids, adjusting to the brightness of the room. Sitting up, all he could remember was falling. And yet, he couldn't find any bruises, nor did his nose seem broken. He felt fine.

"Ah, you're awake! How do you feel?" the soldier that aided him asked, smiling.

Sitting up slowly, Tokken rubbed his eyes. "Like I just fainted?"

"That would make sense, yes. I am sorry if this disturbed you; Emris doesn't like telling people of his binding, lest people like them abuse it," Xavier said, pointing at Emris as he was assaulted by his relentless allies, somehow feeling more pride for them than pain, though his vocalizations didn't make it seem so.

With a curious tilt, the man wondered, "I've not seen your face here before. Are you a cadet, by any chance?" Xavier asked, vexed by the thought, yet expecting the answer. He was surprised, however, as he saw the boy shake his head.

"No, just visiting until I can leave. That guy who got blown to bits? He brought me here. Haven't had the best impression so far, but I was shocked nonetheless. I mean, he could've been anyone and I still would've been..." Tokken said, erasing the images out of his head. The boy couldn't help but watch in awe as Emris sustained the blows, amazed at the absence of the bullet holes that sickened his mind to no end.

"Ah, I see. I suppose that is fair. I still haven't quite caught your name, though," Xavier requested, albeit timidly. While he was noble, it seemed the soldier's social skills were lacking. His glorious exterior visage was likely little more than a facade at the core; which eased the boy's mind. With a bit of reluctance, the teen introduced himself.

"I'm Tokken. Just Tokken."

"Hm, a very exotic name indeed..." the veteran nodded, placing a finger to his lips. Tokken couldn't help but raise a brow. He had expected at least some suspicion regarding his family name, considering he was apparently so infamous because of it.

"My name is Xavier. It's a pleasure."

"I'm guessing you're a worker here?"

"Oh, you haven't pieced it together yet? That's good, I think. I don't exactly like it when people flaunt my title — but yes, I work here."

"I was surprised you didn't know about me too, honestly.”

"Oh, was I meant to? I'm sorry, I'm not usually the type to check the media," Xavier apologised, showing that unseemly unease again.

"No, I appreciate it. I don't really like talking about it either," Tokken said. "So, what's your standing here? Are you a doctor or something? I feel as though Fely and you might get along. Just don't rope me into it."

"Oh, Goddess, no. I'm fortunate enough not to end up in the Ward too often. That man is quite eccentric, I agree," the soldier affirmed, shaking his head. "And no, not a doctor. I'm a Brigadier."

With a puzzled look, Tokken raised a brow. "Is that right? I remember that guy saying there's only five. How come you're here?"

Scratching his neck, the young Brig replied, "Well, I've finished my duties. As First Brigadier of the Syndicate, I usually fare with quite the workload, but I managed to finish everything up early today."

"Holy Goddess, you're number one?" Tokken asked, baffled to the point of laughing to himself. "Wait, why am I impressed?"

Xavier justified him with a shrug. "I suppose the youth are easy to impress, right?"

Hearing this, Tokken sighed as he dropped his head by his knees. "While I want to refute that, I really can't. So," the lad started, raising himself up once more to face Xavier. "How come you're so high on the charts? If you're number one on the Brigadier list, that means Emris is behind you, right?"

"That would be correct, yes."

Tokken scanned the Brigadier's appearance, before commenting, "I guess you do look kind of heroic, but your attitude is totally backwards! How can you be stronger than that miserable guy? Especially now that I know he's immortal..."

Raising a hand to interrupt the boy's ramblings, Xavier closed his eyes as he explained.

"Allow me to correct your assessment. To begin with, my rank does little to demonstrate my combat ability. While I'm not lacking myself, I'm confident Emris could defeat me if faced with a life-or-death scenario."

"But, he can't die, right? If he can heal from all that, I can't think of a battle he can't win..." Tokken butt in, not believing somebody that endured such firepower could survive otherwise.

"Incorrect. He can certainly die. In fact, he's guaranteed to, and soon. If he has this world's best wishes in mind, that is."

"I don't... understand?" Tokken questioned, feeling malaise at his word choice. " 'If he has this world's best wishes'? What is that supposed to mean?"

Nodding his head, Xavier proceeded. "Precisely. If he wants our world to prosper, he simply must give up soon. While I can't say for certain why that is the case, I can at the very least explain how his binding works."

"You've said that twice now, and I'm still confused as to what it means. Is that what makes him immortal?" the boy mused, curious.

"Not immortal, but durable. As for bindings, or spellbindings, they are peculiar blessings or supernatural talents provided to random individuals by birth. Nobody is sure what exactly causes such events to take place, but they are considered gifts from the Saintess and signal higher purpose in life. The Envious God too has his own version of her bindings, though his hatred gives them more restrictions, as well as a commitment that will be met with consequence if not abided," the young—yet successful—Brigadier explained away, smiling at his knowledge.

"So, what? Emris is gifted?" Tokken teased with a sheepish smirk.

Chuckling, Xavier shook his head. "To an extent, yes. Though his blessing was... somewhat forced. I would argue that his existence is a curse."

"...What's that supposed to mean? Do you hate him or something...?" Tokken asked, cautious of his seemingly hostile choice of words.

Seeing his expression, Xavier became flustered. "No! Of course not. There are few individuals I truly spite, and fewer still do I consider my enemies. The fact is, even Emris knows he is imperfect. And, as cruel as it may be, he knows he was condemned from the moment of his creation."

"Because of his... alcoholism?" the teen tried to guess, the answer not seeming to fit as he imagined a baby Emris already holding a bottle of beer.

"No, not quite. The reasons for such are, sadly, not my words to tell. I know he may seem devious or frightening, but it's important to be as patient as tolerable with him." Even Xavier didn't believe in his words, his tone dying out. "It seems, there are few that will, these days.”

Xavier looked at the boy with a glint of sympathy. "While he may not show it often, Emris is so dreadfully——"

"Captain Major!" a voice called out, catching the Brigadier off-guard as he almost fired off a recoiled spell.

Composing himself as quickly as he could, Xavier shouted back, a slight stumble in his words. "Aye! Is something the matter?"

Whether he was ignorant of or accustomed to the Brigadier's reflexes, the soldier advanced towards Xavier, offering him a cordial gesture before proceeding. "You are needed, sir. A reunion is being held for those planning to uphold the region of Zwaarstrich."

His eyes widening, Xavier bolted to his feet, almost tripping in his eagerness as he followed his subordinate's lead. Giving the confused boy he left behind an apologetic smile, the highest Brigadier in this establishment's entire military vanished from sight, leaving a baffled—yet increasingly unimpressed—lad to his lonesome.

While new information had certainly been provided, it all had come with much to ponder. Much to his ire, this Facility seemed cursed with an incessant need to interrupt important conversations, which left much to be desired or explained. Tokken shifted his gaze to Emris and his peers with a sigh, silently watching them train.

The scene before him would bring a smile to his face, had he not witnessed the fright fest performed by these same brutes just prior. Fighting away, testing new styles, practising new abilities as well as perfecting old ones; all in their allotted little space.

While his pain was evident from the expressions he made, Emris would beam a grin after feeling a successful performance ramming him sideways. And while he would often chastise their brutish behaviour, much as any normal man would, he didn't seem to mind. He had seemingly developed some kind of bizarre, unfathomable yet undeniable connection to this small group of elites, and he took pride from it all.

He could call these fiends 'friends', though even that seemed far-fetched.

 

♦ ♥ ♣ ♠

 

"Oy... those bastards need to watch their fuckin' act. They're screwin' me up real proper," Emris groaned, pressing his knuckles against his back as if to reposition his tormented spine.

It had been a while since Tokken had woken up by now, deciding after a short walk that he was hopeless to navigate this place alone, even with all the signs in place; choosing instead to wait for the veteran to finish his course. Luckily, the sessions were fairly short, what with having a few billion other things to do at such a rank. That went for both him and his platoon's collective. Such were the burdens of Colonel and Brigadier statuses.

"I can’t figure out how you can deal with it so easily. If I'd gone through what you just did, I think I would be screaming," Tokken said.

"Eh, ye get used to some of it, I guess. Mind ye, losin' an arm'll always hurt. Those kids are just worth it to me," Emris explained, smiling warmly at the thought of his platoon.

"How touching!" Tokken teased, earning a snigger from the man.

From an outside perspective, it looked more like an abusive relationship between students and their teacher. But those within knew of their deeper bond, having grown almost synchronised with each other's actions. While the oldish man did miss his older squad, his current platoon would do just fine. After all, he had to get his superiority complex from somewhere, and the recruits were starting to see through him.

"I just got told you're almost immortal. I mean, you can regenerate limbs? That's just overpowered!" Tokken complained, feeling a very clear power imbalance.

Shrugging at his nonsense, Emris said, " 'Immortal' ain't really puttin' it right. My body just ain't mine, is all."

"Yeah, that doesn't paint the picture any clearer. Are you a ghost that possesses people or something?"

Shooting the boy a deadly-serious glare, the man hissed. "How'd you know?"

"Wait, what?!" Tokken exclaimed, his quickly accelerating anxiousness dying out immediately as the Brigadier laughed whole-heartedly to himself.

Whilst nearly dislocating the youth's shoulder with an aggressively excitable swing of his arm, Emris clarified, "I'm fuckin' with ye, kid. I'm more of an uh... an impostor, like?"

"Look, you really aren't explaining much here..." Tokken sighed.

"Agh, fine. I'm a disembodied soul, aight? But every livin' thing needs a body, so I had to uh... steal one, I guess," Emris started, continuing before the suspicious glares of the lad became hostile. "The guy's fine. I mean, I think so. Shite knows where the man is these days. Only needed a bit of hair; bet he didn't even flinch."

The Brigadier smirked cockily. "I picked the guy 'cause he looked like a real tough'un, and good lookin' if ye'd indulge me."

"Let's not push it. You look like a creep, honestly. And get some new clothes!" the lad joked, giving the man a more light-hearted glance.

His eye twitching, Emris shouted back, "Oi! The hell are ye callin' a creep, ah? And who raised ye to speak to yer superiors like that?!"

"I did. You creep."

"Oy..."

"So... was that guy a friend of yours?" Tokken asked, breaking the ice as he reasserted his seriousness. "He seemed to know a lot about you..."

"Eh? Ye mean Xavier? Aye, he's a decent bloke. Ain't too proud of him, mind," Emris shrugged.

Cocking a brow, Tokken shook his head. Stopping in place, the lad pressed his hands against his cast, feeling little to no pain from the pressure. Emris cast him a glance as he too stopped, watching him with visible concern. Though the motive for feeling so was less obvious than it seemed.

"I think I should be okay to get rid of this thing——" Tokken muttered, starting to unravel the bandages before feeling a strong hand grasp his wrist, impeding him.

"Oi. Let the doctors handle that, aye? Ye never know," the veteran said, his advice sounding like an anxiously formulated command. Looking back up at the man with trepidation, the boy let go of the bandages gently, straightening up again.

"Alright, fine. If you insist... I'll have to find the doctors today, then. I hate walking with this thing; I feel like I'm lugging a bunch of bricks," the boy complained, trying to soften the man's alarming behaviour, which gave Tokken yet another matter to question later on. The sheer vagueness of this Facility was becoming all the more infuriating, to say the least. Every small answer came with heftier doubts, which further complicated the web of riddles the youth felt he had to solve.

Setting aside his own challenges, a thought sprung to mind. Quite the déjà vu.

"Crap! I left Chloe all alone again!" Tokken said, grasping his hair desperately. "Look, I'd love to hear all the cryptic stuff you want to throw my way, but I've got things to do."

"Aye, I know. Uh, about Xavier..." Emris started, his words trailing off as the junior shot to his room with no time to object.

Outside of ear-range, the veteran muttered, "Just how much did he say...?"

Feeling a surge of ire and heft, Emris took in a deep breath of air, becoming increasingly aggressive, much to his rampaging personality.

 

"Xavier... ye slack off on yer duties when ye don't favour 'em, yet ye’re fine slippin' shite behind my back?!" Emris growled, towering over the individuals seated among a planning table.

Taking a sip of water, the younger Brigadier looked up at the seething mess with curiosity and a hint of disdain.

"How low do you think I would stoop? You're so quick to conclusions, it's hard to ignore, really," Xavier stated, shaking his head as he stood up. "With all due respect, ‘sir’, I have no reason to appeal to you. You unforgivably slothful, hypocritical bastard."