The Deadman

“Wake up, Deadman.”

He gasps for air. He looks around and groans at the familiar space. Floor that is like a reflection of a mirror. A man in a ragged cloak and sigils on his eyes is looking at him.

“You’re awake. I was hoping that the last time would be our last meeting. Remember, what did you do last time?”

He recalls.

Sneaking inside a facility guarded by power-armor wearing security. Finding Strato, feeling the demon’s presence, and then trying to stop the world from turning into a world with a bright orange sky.

With his last act trying to foolishly pull superconductors. What was he thinking? Trying to rip out superconductors powered with infused volatile materials that could even summon a demon into the mortal plane.

“Demons… monsters… devils… abominations. I wish the world was simpler.”

“It is, usually. Sadly, someone poked a hole. I’m here again. Hmm, you have a habit of being in the front of trouble.”

“I made a mistake by being involved.”

“No. To care is never a mistake. To do nothing is a mistake. Even maggots do their things. Inaction is a cruel mistress.”

“Hey, you lived long enough, right?”

“In a way, I’m just a fragment of a man who fought hard enough to be able to pull the strings of magic. I just had enough time to do what I have.”

He bows his head.

“Does this mean I died?”

“Not necessarily.”

The Deadman stares him down.

“Your soul is supercharged, but your vessel can’t contain it. You have two souls merged into one. But that isn’t enough to contain the force that contraption was controlling.”

“Two souls… I guess I never really thought of it. Then again, I just didn’t want to see a burning orange sky.”

“It is, no? It is not everyday one would be foolish enough to lay down their lives for that.”

“But I failed, you know?”

“Perhaps. You failed to stop that machine. That island is scorched, defeated, and its machinery is now dead. Though thankfully, an Agent from your former organization brought forth his flaming sword, and banished the demon back.”

“That’s good. A shame that I’m here though.”

“Your body’s dead.”

“Oh.”

“But your soul exists. It persists. I can reconstruct your coil with my flesh. Sew your skin and muscles back into bones that I made from my own. I can give you more. Strengthen you further, and allow you to contest against this world.”

“But why would you?”

“Nothing comes without a price… but I am not a demon. Isn’t it natural to help those who you encounter? And… let’s just say that this is my pity for you. You… have a tough time ahead of you. It is not hard to understand. You will walk our bleak path for me.” 

A deep sorrow that he can’t understand. There is little to none that can be seen in the eyes of this man. Like a traveling wanderer that made use of the stars as his roads to travel.

“Then my soul is in your hands?”

“It is.”

The man in the ragged cloak stares. His sigil eyes on him.

“I will not lie to you. The act of your woman has turned your world unprotected. Beyond the planet lies creatures that are unheard of. Her use of that machine had drawn the attention of certain eyes. I have blinded them, slain them, but a fact remains that they persist. Maybe, you will not live long enough to see it. Perhaps, it is a problem of the future.”

“That’s a long time…”

“Maybe you’ll see.”

He did not understand.

He didn’t try to understand.

His eyes are on the collection of stars and spirals that has painted the sky and left it with this mural.

“Beautiful aren’t they?”

“They really are.”

“All of them are the souls of every Struggler that has ever lived. The everyday man that found himself in the right place at the wrong time. The unsung is not forgotten. As long as I persist in this plane of existence. They will not.”

He glances at the sky.

“How long have you been living, sir?”

“I do not know. I have not counted the days.”

He nods his head. He stands up. Eyes still on the vast sky. Luring him in, forcing himself not to join them in the stars.

“Maybe one day your time will come, but that is not today, Deadman.”

“So where will I be going back?”

“Your heart beats. Your soul is not around. I will reconstruct you from the bottom. I ask that you continue your ability to care for the world when you can. Inaction leads to death. So act, that is all I ask.”

He stares forward and then looks at his hand. His soul has the appearance of Kato.

“Your appearance will remain as you have. It would be best if you live as that of yourself now more than the face of one. The time for lies is over. The truth shall come out. Robert Oswald dies today. Kato Lores shall live.”

“It’s… dishonor…”

“Let the dead rest, Deadman. Your soul burns forevermore. And it would be best if you let it happen. Let Robert Oswald go and let Kato Lores live. This is a choice that you must make now.”

“Why?”

“Because your true name strengthens you. You are not synched up with your soul and even if you deny it. That body is yours already. Not his. And… Do you really wish to imitate the name of a deadman? Robert Oswald died already. His memories remain. So honor it by living on and fighting. He joined the rest and with it is his life. Do not pretend. Be Katos Lores once. Go, with my blessing, and truly hope that we do not meet again.”

“Hopefully not a hundred years later again.”

“Don’t worry. Your soul has been energized. I’ve given you your true name back. Those who are unfamiliar with you as Robert Oswald will somewhat forget and only a few will remember you. Think of it as another favor”

“Why would you go that far? I keep owing you favors that I don’t know if I can repay.”

His eyes saw something.

Like he’s looking at something in the future that must happen. He knew that there was something else he wasn’t telling him. Something that concerned the world.

He came to realize. The way that the Deadman looked at him was pitiful. As if he had seen it again and again.

“Seriously, why do you help me?”

“Let’s just say that I see my past hardships on you. I will return you to that city, I shall grow your flesh back on that place. Don’t die again.”

Strands of light wrapped him like a web. He felt them tighten around his soul and as the stars vanished before him. He felt something or someone knitting him.

Then Kato Lores was gone.

 

***

 

The Deadman stares at the space before turning his eyes on the place where Kato Lores is being regenerated. He turns his eyes on the machinery and finds the lesser demons being slaughtered by the Hellrunners who had arrived to quarantine the island.

The rest of the island had become infested with lesser demons. The one leading the charge is the Vidame of the Holy See who was slaughtering the demons with his flaming sword.

Next to the machinery was a woman who was staring at the husk left. A soulless body that had its consciousness and soul spirited away.

Kato Lores’s former body was unnatural. But to create a new one and replicate it was easy as long as he had his soul removed and transferred to a new body. He could use his soul to grow another one.

The Deadman’s attention wasn’t on the husk though.

His eyes were on the woman who had her heart and soul broken.

If there was light on the woman before.

It had been replaced with darkness.

Her eyes remained on the fallen corpse of the man whose face was similar to someone she knew very well.

Someone who she’d break time and space to see again.

The man who pleaded with her to turn off her machine. The man who she attacked and broke until he was forced to try and pull off the semiconductors in hopes that the machine would be stopped.

And here he was lying dead in her arms.

Unmoving. Unbreathing. Her spells. Her skills. Her vast knowledge accumulated from the hundred years she had lived could not help her. It was a miracle that his shell was still around despite the amount of energy that had entered his body, which supercharged Kato’s soul. Of course, it was through him that Kato survived since he still needed someone to be his agent.

To be his eye while the rest of the world moves forward. He had little time left here and although he had spent years walking the void and witnessing a lot. He was not all-powerful. He was not some kind of demigod that watched over the world. He was simply an accident, a being that became someone who possessed such powers. And these powers told him of a threat that will come to the future.

A threat that needed certain events to occur.

The existence of a woman who would do anything to go back to her home and see her family again. He had passed her mournful soul and had carried her to a body that suited her.

A passionate soul that cared.

A woman who had seen the future and was knowledgeable of certain matters, information that she was able to digest because of her certain profession that she seems to hide from her lover.

A broker.

It was easy to understand why a woman like her would be able to create what she has now. Not to mention she had a hundred years to improve herself further and craft herself a faction that contained the idea of a world that didn’t have any resources to make it happen.

She was going to change this world.

She was going to advance it and stray it from the path.

That was her purpose.

A distraught woman whose passions and optimism were replaced with silent determination to get what was taken from her. A gloomy woman who had spent the good years of her life scheming and planning. Resisting her old passions and emotions; hardening it with a cold resolve that was maddening to her.

Even the Deadman can’t imagine it.

If Kato Lores were two souls merged together.

Then Gia Silva was a woman who had three souls merged into one.

The broken soul of Gia Silva, the soul that took Gia’s identity, and lastly the soul of the child she was carrying at the time of her death.

A phantom pain she can’t cure.

The feeling that forever she’ll be carrying a phantom baby she can’t give birth to.

Stuck to her soul like a tumor.

It became her strength.

It became her power.

It became her curse.

And not a single day that her heart wasn’t in pain at the thought of this awful truth she did not want to think about.

Using that power for her goals.

Trampling upon others.

In this world she chooses to be selfish.

A mad woman that simply wanted her family back.

She, who lived in a broken world, still had something she cherished enough that she’d break others for the sake of that goal.

She had thought that perhaps she had become cold after so many years. To her it was a goal she herself deemed impossible.

And now she stands before the corpse of the person she had hoped to see for such a long time.

And she had killed him.

She was the reason that this man who had the face of her husband was now lying on the ground.

“Haha.”

A hollow laugh came to her.

A laugh devoid of emotion.

She was broken up.

And yet her resolve wasn’t easily shattered.

Denial came.

Then fury and bargaining.

To Katey Lores, it was nothing more than a deception.

Surely a lie made by her numerous enemies.

And yet her eyes went to the face of the man who she had killed.

She waved her hand and burned it.

She couldn’t revive the dead.

And all words were meaningless in a body that didn't have a soul.

The Deadman who saw all of this closed his eyes.

He was not so cruel, but he needed someone who had the grim determination, the resources, and influence to propel this world forward.

The good of all mattered first.

And perhaps one day her wish will be met.

But not now.

Not when he's looking at something more.

The Deadman joined his hands behind his back and looked at the very laws of this world. He had spent the last of his powers resurrecting someone whose body got killed and the rest of his efforts fueling a madwoman’s thought so she can drive the world with her awful determination.

Her fanatical self leading humanity.

He saw a bleak future where demons walked the land and the Devil laughed.

“A few more years… maybe. Until then, forgive me for this you two. For the damned Greater Good of all…”

The villain said as his figure turned into dots of dim light.

---