Soren sat cross-legged on his bed.
He needed to think. Machos and his friends were all in danger. No, it was the entire town. He did not like most of them, but that was not going to stop their demise, and he could not just stop and watch it happen.
The gazes of the Soul Mechas on the posters and the action figures. They were begging him to act.
—But there was more. How was he able to go back in time again and again?
And then he remembered Vass displaying his flames and Tommy experimenting with the rats.
His eyes fell on his Glassheart. Now, he was a bit scared. Didn't they say that he was F-rank and that F-rank was trash?
What kind of F-rank Soul turns back time?
Just then—
[Hunger]
That voice. There it was again. Back then he might have been confused, but not now. It was definitely from his Glassheart. It was his Shade. He reached for it. Hesitated a bit. But then willed for it to open.
[Hunger] [Hunger] [Hunger] [Hunger] [Hunger] [Hunger!!!]
It was like a shriek in his ear attempting to drown his soul and a raw feeling to CONSUME. It had not even been a full second before he was forced to shut the Glassheart.
His breathing was even faster now.
What was that?
It gave the same kind of horrific feeling as when he was before that Eldritch.
Now, more questions flooded his heart. He needed to know what kind of soul he was carrying as his Shade.
As a fan of Soul Mechas, he was as updated on news about them and their Shades as their rundown town could absorb—which was a lot. Because the empire made sure that the hope never died.
Unfortunately, information on Shades was a tight secret.
Such information would not come now. Fortunately, they were supposed to begin the academy tomorrow. He would know more then.
But would there even be a tomorrow?
He needed help.
'Machos'
He hurried for the door at the same time Machos was trying to enter his room, tray in hand carrying the bowl of soup.
"Aye, boy. Just in time. Our newest Soulbound warrior. You've been out for a while now. So I thought to make you a little celebration meal of your favorite soup..."
"Let me guess, there is no rat in it." Soren finished his statement.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"That does not matter now." Soren took the tray from him and set it on the crate in the corner. "I want you to listen to me carefully."
"Okay!" Machos was taken by surprise.
"There is something I have to tell you. There is an Eldritch soul in town."
"An Eldritch!? WHERE?" Macho's eyes widened in shock. He immediately rushed out of the room, limping. "Quick, get me my wrench. Go to the mayor and sound the alarm. Where is it now?"
"I... I don't know."
Machos paused and turned to him. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"Well. I saw it yesterday... I mean, I will see it tonight. But... it's definitely..."
Machos raised a brow at him. "Hey! Did that damn Mayor kid whack you in the head again? Or are you still sufferin' from the soul bond thin'? You know I was worried when the lads brought you in. But I didn't know it was this bad..."
"No! No!! You don't understand. I am serious. I have died three times already and..."
Machos gave a heavy sigh. 'My dear boy has really lost it. They say all Soulbound warriors are crazy. Maybe this is the beginning. I'm losing em already.'
Machos looked at him with a lot of pity.
He patted Soren's shoulder. "You know what, boy? I might not be able to do a lot. But at least I can ease your suffering. Why don't you eat somethin', aye! You're startin' to see things." He had a look of concern in his eyes.
Soren wanted to explain, but Machos dismissed it.
He said Soren simply hit his head too hard on the ground when he fainted. Then he said his farewell as he took his jacket to go check on the town's madman.
Soren stood there for a while. He did not know what to do, but he knew that he had to do something.
Yes! The mayor. He would tell him.
Unfortunately, Soren was literally thrown out of the mayor's house by Vass.
And then he went to the town folks, one after the other, but it was the same.
And then night fell, and it came again.
[You died.]
—————————
Jolted awake.
cough. cough. cough.
The ceiling—"One Day, I'll Pilot the Stars."
Maybe I should try and warn Pencil and Tommy too.
Unfortunately, Tommy did not want to leave his sick mother behind. And Pencil wanted to enjoy the house party.
[You died.]
—————————————-
Jolted awake.
cough. cough. cough.
The intense need to throw up assaulted his senses—again.
The ceiling—"One Day, I'll Pilot the Stars."
Why didn't I think of it? The emergency alarm. Every town has one in case of an eldritch. Although it has never been used in this town, I can just pull that, and everyone can gather to the bunker.
He pulled it. However, after everyone gathered, they booed him and, in anger, began throwing stones at him. Before machos could interfere, Vass had thrown a big boulder... still testing his newfound strength.
Splash
Soren's head was smashed in. The last thing he remembered was Vass apologizing in a panic
[You died.]
————————————
The ceiling—"One Day, I'll Pilot the Stars."
[You died.]
————————————-
[you died.]
————————————-
[you died.]
————————————-
[you died.]
————————————-
[you died.]
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{200 Deaths later...}
The ceiling—"One Day, I'll Pilot the Stars."
Soren sat on his bed, hands wrapped around his knees, digging into his skin. There was some blood from digging harshly into his skin. He rocked back and forth, eyes red and wide. He muttered words even he could not understand as saliva dropped from his lips.
From time to time, his gaze would land on his Glassheart in the corner. Once upon a time, he would have killed to have such an item in his hands. But now, he dreaded its existence.
He had done it. He had tried absolutely everything.
Convincing the townspeople did not work. Trying to contact the Knights that left the town did not work. Trying to run away alone did not work. Trying to hide in his room did not work.
He even tried to hide alone in the bunker? But that too did not work.
That bunker was a terrible excuse for a place to hide. If it could even be called a bunker.
It was just a really deep hole in the ground. No one had money to reinforce it with actual metal and just hoped that it was deep enough for any attacker to ignore it and move on.
But that Eldritch... Like it had sealed the fate of the town. They were all just meals waiting to be slaughtered. And only Soren knew of it. He had died enough times to know that there was no way out of this.
This knowledge was like a jail he could not escape. A burden he could not drop.
His life had not been easy growing up, but it was nothing compared to this.
What... What did I do to deserve this?
His fingers dug even deeper into his flesh as more blood trailed down his sides.
This pain—right now, it was the only comfort he felt. The only thing that felt real.
He had died in more ways than he even knew was possible: skinned, chopped, choked, digested, drained of fluid, decapitated, ground, liquified by acid... and so much more.
Just as the memory played in his head—as expected, Machos opened the door carrying that same bowl of soup. At this point, Soren could not be bothered to look. Every gesture, every move.
He knew them—memorized them.
His eyes were just hollowed out. Life had become meaningless.
Machos tried to talk to him, but Soren could barely listen. He was hollow inside. His existence, empty.
"...What!? High and mighty because you became a Soulbounded Warrior? Well, if you are not going to answer me, then I'll just go where I am needed. At least the town's madman will give me some attention. That bastard is about the only Soulbounded warrior in this town with a bit of respect for me."
Soren paused.
—This.
This was different.
His mind, which had gone through countless poundings and repetitions, caught the difference. Maybe it was because of the way he ignored Machos. But this time, something... something had clicked.
"What did you just say?"
"Erm... I'm going to see the town's madman?"
"No. Before that... You... you said something about him being a Soulbounded warrior."
"Ahhh yes. That was back in the day. Not just a warrior. The fool used to be a Soul Mecha pilot. Killed a lot of Eldritch in his time, but losing your bond with your soul does somethin' to your mind, and..."
Soren dropped from his bed as fast as he could. He dove into his shoes.
"Hey! Where do you think you're goin' punk?"
"To see the town's madman!" Soren replied without turning back.
"Well, if you are going to take care of him, then there is no need for me to go too." Machos sighed. He took a look at the soup in his hands. "Better to eat it than leave it to the rats."
......
Soren ran across town. He was fast. Finally, he reached the place. An old abandoned storehouse. Many people did not come here because it was once used as a site for storing ectoplasm. There were still stains of the toxic substance here and there. But most of it was gone. The mayor had once organized the town for a cleanup. While it was effective, someone had accidentally gotten poisoned, and people, in their fear, left the place alone.
Someone had suggested burning it up, but ectoplasm was too flammable to mess with.
Now, no one came here. Well, none except him. The man that dressed in leaves. The town's madman and only true Dungie in this place.