Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

The experience of extreme despair, a pain worse than death is something one doesn't always have the luxury of experiencing. Ren thought to live was to feel this tearing anger and sorrow in his chest. To survive was to want to die.

And when he realized true despair, it came in a death that was more painful than life.

The events that occurred after Raphael's death in the apocalypse remained fresh in Soren's mind, given to him by Lydia's potion. A poison, or a medicine. Curse, or blessing. He wasn't sure which it was. But those memories, that rushed by his mind in a millisecond to anybody watching, were something embedded into his very bone.

The monster that killed Raphael tormented the city, ran rampant with nobody to stop it. Ren only watched quietly from the sides, wandering in buildings, killing and killing and killing. Time didn't pass the way it once did, now dragging and dull, as it once was.

As he'd forgotten.

Buildings were crushed to dust, mere piles of broken pieces of what they'd once been, and people died every day, murdered by the monster, and if not that abominable creature, killed by their own kind. Killed by greedy, hopeless humans.

Nobody talked to him, though many seemed to want to, watching him from afar with desperate pleas. Ren didn't see them, and even if he could, he would've ignored it.

The Undying Reaper.

The Misfortune.

The Hero who Abandoned Humanity.

There were many titles now tied to his name, curses from the weak who couldn't do anything but complain. He didn't care; he was used to this. And he'd wanted, for a moment, to not be used to this. To find salvation under the strange skies, with that bothersome person by his side.

He'd claw at his palms until they dripped with red, curling up in corners hoping to sleep the days away. Nightmares were all that followed.

Then, he watched that undefeatable monster collapse.

It seemed, even the unknown had a lifespan, and it was this thing's due time. It collapsed against the rubbles that it'd created, skin bubbling and melting until it seeped into the stone. Ren wondered if it was trying to continue living, as it struggled to stand over and over again.

He walked over slowly, dragging his sword on the ground. Sludge stuck to his shoes, but he trudged on. He made his way to the top of the hill made of destruction, to the center where a deep, amber gem laid. Was it the creature's core? It's heart?

All he knew was that if this thing was dying, then he would make sure it didn't rise again.

Sword raised high in the air, catching glimmers of light as his entire being was shadowed underneath, he drove it down. Snapping the gem right in half, and when he decided that wasn't enough, he slammed it again and again until the jewel was nothing more than dust.

And then he fell back.

His chest heaved, and tears ran down his cheeks. If Raphael had waited, if they hadn't urged. If he hadn't allowed himself to get injured. If only they had more time, then the creature would've died, and he wouldn't have died a senseless death.

"...worthless."

This entire world. Hatred echoed in his soul.

He swallowed a shaky gulp, and dragged his body up, head hanging between his legs and blade resting at his side threateningly, covered in amber dust that seemed like golden speckles. A delicate and powerful sword, far larger than he could wield. One that carried the same arrogant strut its owner once did.

Raphael's blade.

Ren choked on his own thoughts, trembling.

"Is it dead?" a voice suddenly called out, shrill and irritating. Ren didn't lift his head.

"I asked if it was dead, hero?"

Ren muttered so quietly that none could hear his jumbled words of disdain for himself. "I am no hero."

"Why did you wait so long to kill it?" another voice questioned painfully. "I've lost too many. We all have!"

And Ren couldn't help but wonder, did it not matter that he too had lost? Somebody that, to him, was worth a million lives and more.

"You were supposed to be the hero! You were meant to save us, weren't you?" cried a woman, tears streaking down her face in angry rivers.

A few others stepped forward to voice their complaint, unsatisfied. But Ren had never saved them — it was Raphael. It always was. Then, he'd be treated and used like disposable garbage by these people who were supposedly thankful to him.

Raphael Han was dead.

And they replaced him. Forgot him. Disgraced him.

Ren never intended to save the world. He hadn't even wanted to get involved with this ridiculous play of salvation, only to find himself tugged every which way. To him, Raphael was a fool.

He was. Not anymore.

Ren never thought he'd want somebody so ridiculous, so different. But he did. Badly. And he'd tear the world apart to see him again. This damn reality that he had no particular attachment to.

Maybe he was going crazy, thinking that perhaps, in another lifetime, Raphael would exist. That he was willing to do anything, that he wanted enough power, power to bring him back. Power to destroy everything he hated, and protect everything that he loved.

He'd even abandon his humanity for it. To gain a strength that rivalled the gods.

"Answer me! What, do you plan to abandon us just like your partner did?"

Something snapped in that moment.

Ren slowly lifted his void eyes at the woman, gazing deeply from where he sat, a long sword that was far too large for him leaning against his lap. It may have gleamed his heroic promise, now dyed in the death only a reaper could give. The woman gulped nervously as Ren remained silent.

"An answer?" wondered Ren emotionlessly. His voice bland and flat, rumbling through the air.

The only reason he thought the world was saving, was because that man showed him the light. In a world without light, was there any point in living? He was exhausted, too tired to do anything more. Too tired to live for this life he hated.

He threw his head back, staring at the unseen that hid behind what he could see. Tears still ran down his cheeks, now hot with fury. Monsters would rampage, and he would stand at the top. He would kill, and he would survive.

He would live until he could finally die. But he wouldn't protect, and he wouldn't save.

"I decided," continued Ren quietly through the silent skies. "That the world isn't worth saving, after all."

The world burned in his love.

And eventually, his life ended at the blade of his beloved.

———

"You made me a promise, once."

Soren slowly opened his eyes, staring with such honest tranquility that it made Raphael tremble and shake. There was a calm, an understanding of the inevitable that this foolish prince had no intention of preventing.

'Alright Ren, I'll kill you one day.'

An oath that neither Soren nor Ren could ever forget again. And Raphael too, would not be given the hope of escaping those words he uttered on that day.

'I promise you.'

"Ren." Almost pleading, shrouded in hopeless and hopeful desperation. So, so helpless. "Please."

Soren returned his words. "Please, Raphael."

This was the solution he decided on, resolved himself for. Perhaps, another miracle would occur and he'd find a way to return. Of course, he didn't tell Raphael that, in the case that he'd run out of luck and it wasn't an option.

The Death God was dying, and Soren realized at some time, that somebody would have to replace him. Because a world with no god, no watcher, was not one that could exist. It would crumble once it'd been forgotten, taking all its inhabitants with it.

There were many reasons that made him reach this decision. It allowed him to protect and save, two things he once thought he'd never do again.

"And what is this supposed to accomplish?" hissed Raphael in a half shout, anger washing away his sorrow, or perhaps, mixing with it to become something in between. "Not only did you not tell me what you were doing, you lied to me when I asked. What now, Ren? I..."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop." he breathed shakily, as if he wanted to look away but couldn't, forcing himself to stare and stare. Like Soren would disappear if he didn't. And for the first time, perhaps he was right. That thought certainly didn't make him feel any more assured.

Sure, Raphael has suspected that Soren was up to some idiotic event that he'd likely scold that fool for, maybe reprimand and then tell him not to do again. That was fine. It really was. Because that wasn't the end, and that didn't mean Soren wouldn't come back.

But this did. And this lonely protagonist simply didn't know what to make of it.

"I'm not going to ask for your reasoning, because I can probably guess them and I won't like them." said Raphael, placing a palm flat against his head in a dull throb, looking to steady himself on the collapsing walls and failing. "Does anybody else know?"

"I only decided twenty minutes ago."

"...of course you did."

"I wasn't sure."

"Of course you weren't." Then, he adds in a frustrated sort of growl, "And now you are? Are you sure about this choice?"

"Yeah." nodded Soren obediently, a strange sight to see in his torn clothes and bleeding eye, covered in stains and bruises all along his skin. In an odd way, he still kept his weird elegance regardless of his appearance.

"And I can't change your mind?"

"You can't."

"Right. I can't. I can't, huh?" muttered Raphael, more to himself than anyone else, repeating it under his breath in annoyance. Soren was fairly certain that this hero wanted to punch him with the tick in his jaw that pulsed, and he was also pretty ready for it to happen.

Raphael stared straight at him, reading his thoughts as easily as one could read words off a paper. "I should punch you. Knock some sense into whatever is going on in that brain of yours."

Soren arched his brow. "You could try."

"Should I?"

He walked over suddenly, startling Soren, who stepped back slightly before the protagonist stood in front of him, head hanging low and gloomy. He lifted Soren's chin, cupping the stupid royal face in his hands with furrowed eyebrows. "You are an idiot. You know that, don't you?"

Soren scowled. "I'm not."

"You are. You're just in denial." remarked Raphael seriously, although laughter tickled his voice, as if amusement was the only thing that could make him pretend. The one in denial wasn't Soren, after all.

The red-eyed protagonist lowered his dark gaze, moving one hand down to wrap it around the blade that Soren continued to hold. His hands weren't stable, and when a pale, slender pair wrapped around them too, Raphael almost broke into a million pieces.

He wasn't going to lose anyone again. He didn't want to. He didn’t.

"If you save everybody," said Raphael slowly, not looking up, focused on the intertwined hands. "Who will save you?"

Soren was silent, as he always was, but it was a different sort this time. An exhausted, vulnerable quiet. It tuned out the roaring cries, and the sand that scattered in violent jerks of wind. Wind? Was there even wind in this pocket of air, or what was it? Well, it didn't matter.

"I don't need saving."

"No, you don't." A swallow, then a shaky laugh. "But you need somebody to catch you if you fall."

They were so, so close. Bodies only a breath apart, hands around the cruel jewel and at the edge of the space, with only a single push to make them fall. Fall into the chaos. Disappear.

Soren lifted the blade up, lifted Raphael's unwilling hands until it rested against his beating heart. The last time when he uttered his feelings, it had been too late. Soren didn't want it to be too late again, didn't want his confession lost in time.

It was easy to forget that words mattered, sometimes more than anything else. Simple letters joined together that could start or end a war, a friendship, a love.

"After, the Third Religion leader's still alive." explained Soren hastily, peering straight into those raven eyes that made him almost want to forget his every choice. "The one who deserves to do whatever they want with his are my brothers. Or Damien, who lost both his family. I think many have a grudge against him, but don't let him escape again."

"....." Raphael said nothing, only continuing to stare.

"Treat the injured, mourn the dead, and celebrate the living. Or at least," Soren tilted his head. "That's what you'd want to do, anyway."

"....."

"After, the main disaster is over. Do what you want. The end of the world won't happen anymore. It's over, it'll be over. Soon"

"I'm starting to wonder if I really want it to be over anymore."

Soren hitched a breath, frowning. "Foolish hippo. It's okay to be stupid, but not right now."

Raphael arched an eyebrow. "I think being stupid right now is the best thing I could do."

The prince fell into a soft, dragging silence again. There was no time to keep carrying this on; it was time to bring an end to this. He raised his head slightly, dragging Raphael closer as he smashed a kiss onto his lips. The heat drowned them both as Raphael's eyes widened, startled, before he pressed harder.

Raphael, Raphael, Raphael.

Soren would never forget that name again.

He pulled away to gasp, taking a large gulp of air only for the hero's hands to tug him forward angrily, letting loose all of his frustration. He bit at the prince's lips aggressively, drawing blood.

The walls around them now had fallen completely, and they stood at the top, before all others.

A smile pressed against Raphael's lips suddenly, and his grip relaxed in surprise.

"Raphael Han." The words he always wanted to say. "I love you."

And then he lifted the hands in his grasp, leaning forward to press one last kiss. The blade pushed through. Piercing. A light gasp, and an almost laugh.

A push to the chest. And then Soren was falling, falling.

Raphael reacted too late, lunging forward with his arms outstretched, only to grasp the fleeting edges of cloth. He watched as the body scattered into a thousand particles, blowing away in the wind like gentle petals in the air.

Beyond his grasp.

He crumbled to the ground, choking on his tears, on unsaid words. "Ren, damn you." gasped the man, before he shouted it louder. "Damn it!"

He shouted, and shouted, and shouted, all eyes looking up to him, the clashing swords stopping in their swings as they stared up at the fallen man who continued to shout at empty air, and the pale blue petals that danced across the air.

Damien's eyes widened in realization as a single petal fell into his open palm. He stared at it, before curling his fingers around carefully, not to break or tear the fragile piece, his tail curling around his legs tightly, ears drooping on his head.

He was the first to realize that the ending he wrote had finally changed.

"Cease the fighting!" He ordered loudly, swiping his hands in an arc, with a dark expression. "A conclusion has already been reached."

Then, after a pause, he announced the decisive confirmation. "Soren Rosenbaum... is dead."