'People have two lives; the second begins when they accept they only have one.'
Crux lay over a destroyed staircase residing within a ruined tower that was now just a shell of its former glory. Multiple centipedes had erupted from his right eye, and his body was lavished with blue veins that ran under his thin, pale skin.
A ditzy, wide smile was on Crux's face as his left eye was greying and losing vision—all while he was in a drunken state of consciousness. Only after most of his organs had failed to the eggs that were traveling through his system, and he lost feeling in all his limbs, did Crux start to lament how he lived.
Clinging to life as he did for 17 years, desperation led him to become a menace to those he came across. A good-for-nothing, traumatized boy who would destroy any bridges before they were even formed.
Scared of being victimized, he used and discarded others like trash, so he'd never deal with the heartbreak of betrayal. He did everything to survive in the harsh reality in which he was abandoned. He lived out of pure spite… and this is where that has led him.
Hadn't even reached the age of 20.
Crux lived as a parasite until he became a host to an actual parasitic disease.
Ironic.
Four battered, peeling walls enclosed him, and only rubble or destroyed pieces of technology surrounded the boy in his last moments—proof of what lone life he lived. His last view of the yellow sky was a destroyed hole in the ceiling that revealed a leaking pipe.
'I know there won't be rest for a piece of shit like me in the afterworld… but I do hope there is at least serenity on my way there.'
At this point, Crux just wished to be out of pain.
He had stumbled upon this place while running from some soldiers whom he had stolen from. The red bag he carried was still next to him, full of bread and cans of beans. Those soldiers were part of an organization that had descended on this land and took power from the native people by force. They had the backing of a large empire in the west, so it wasn't long before the natives, Crux included, were being hunted for sport in their own homeland.
Just as they had descended on the land, so did a parasitic disease, which weirdly only affected those of native origin. It was like an apocalypse every day while the rest of the world lived lavishly, watching the people suffer on monitoring drones.
Like any of the six types of parasites in the apocalypse, the one that had gotten him was keeping him alive for as long as possible while running its operation inside Crux's body. He was powerless to stop it, as his limbs were too far gone, and so were any of the other systems that would allow him to fight this fate.
It was pure agony for hours, to the point Crux wondered why his pursuers hadn't found him yet. They could at least take him out of this misery by stabbing him in the heart. Or a bullet to the brain.
They probably wouldn't, though. Why would they? Matter of fact, they would probably torture him first.
Crux heavily leaned his head to the side, getting a glimpse of a TV that still miraculously broadcast a "Traverse" channel. A Summon was fighting a beast in the other world, being a hero who was recorded by drones and celebrated by their empire when they came back to this world.
These so-called "heroes." Crux had believed in them once. He believed a hero would come and save him from his tragedy. Come save his people from this cycle of violence and agony. He soon would realize that wasn't going to happen at all. Those Summons and heroes didn't care about people like him. It was everyone for themselves in this world.
Maybe it was the pain and his barely hanging consciousness that was letting his subconscious thoughts seep out, but… Crux felt sentimental.
'I can't believe… this is… the end. Is this all I… amount to? One life, and that was it? No… I don't want to die… not like this.'
Crux hated that he spent his life waiting in hope. Waiting for some damn hero? He should've just started massacring those asshole soldiers himself when he had the chance! If there was anything he learned, it was to never rely on another person.
Just do it yourself!
'…damn it!'
At the end of the day, there was nothing Crux could do now. He should've done better to not end up in this situation in the first place, and he knew it. He was accountable. There was no one to blame but himself. He would not curse fate or scream to the sky for some god who had a grudge against him. Crux understood it was all him. It was all his fault.
Minutes and even hours had gone by in which Crux counted every second. He took heaving, painful breaths.
'What am I holding out for? Why don't I just stop breathing? Should I just suffocate myself...?'
This wasn't ideal, but the pain was too much to bear. And just as he was about to give up…
[CALLED]
[Will you answer the call?]
'…What? Am I dreaming?'
Crux couldn't believe it. He was pretty much blind and deaf at this point, yet the call clearly rang in his head. A mental image followed, giving him an option:
[Yes/No]
His heart rate picked up, going as fast as it could in its weak state. He was just about to give up, but the flame and light in him had been instantly reignited. Crux was full of anticipation once more as he looked on.
'Who could've possibly called me? I didn't even know my people could be called at all… Oh, who cares! This opportunity will not be for nothing, I promise that!'
This was a second chance at life. Crux deeply felt this feeling: the despair, the regret, and the pain he was in. He was never going to feel like this again. There was now a clear goal in his mind, and the conviction to see it through would follow.
[YES]
The call was accepted, and Crux, in the blink of an eye, vanished from the steps of that desolate place.
—
—
—
*BOOM!*
The boom tore him out of the dark like a fist through glass. Sound came first, followed by a violent lurch as the ground shuddered beneath him. He sucked in a breath that tasted of dust and smoke, ears ringing, vision smeared as if the world hadn't finished loading yet. Something warm trickled down his face.
A voice cut through the haze, sharp and furious, yelling words he couldn't piece together, growing louder by the second.
"RISE! AT ONCE I ORDER YOU!"
The owner of the voice seemed to be in great urgency, his voice cracking as though he had strained himself too much. Crux was unsure with what, but had a good guess that it was probably his summoning.
When his senses finally caught up to his brain, he gained consciousness of his surroundings and was able to make out what was around him as he stood.
First, there was a young, blonde boy in front of him, clutching onto a staff and aiming it directly at Crux.
'My Summoner. For better or for worse, my savior.'
Second, there was a young girl, maybe four or five years of age, bloody and heaving on a rock protruding out of the cave they were in. Next to her was a ginormous black-and-red sword.
Third, Crux felt completely fine, better than fine even, in his new summoned state. He was no longer blind, deaf, or in major amounts of pain. Blood trickled from his forehead, down his nose, and onto his cheek. There was a ringing in his head, but nothing he couldn't manage.
'That's a relief.'
After all these observations, Crux had come to a conclusion. This boy was the one who summoned him. From how strained, desperate, and sweaty he seemed, it must've been a last resort to summon someone. Thus, it explained why he summoned a first-timer and not a more experienced Traverser.
The young girl's condition said that these two must have been in battle, or maybe encountered a strong foe before hiding out in this cave. It didn't take much to notice this, as the roars and sounds from outside were deafening and shook the cave itself with every explosion.
Crux raised his arms in surrender to the boy, who seemed around his age.
"I am here as your Summon. What is it you want?"
"EEK!" The young man jumped back, his staff still shakily pointed Crux's way.
'A bit of a cocky tone, but I feel like this kid is the spoiled-doesn't-know-anything-and-got-himself-into-trouble-due-to-arrogance-and-ignorance type. This might be the only way to get anything substantial done here.'
Even though he spoke with confidence, Crux still had to be careful, as he was talking to his summoner. He wasn't sure what type of power this guy had over him. Hell, all his knowledge of this traversing stuff came from some TV broadcasts here and there of epic Summon fights and land patrols. Crux had read and been taught about the other world in school before the apocalypse, but it was only about the magic and the inner territory workings.
He didn't know about the ins and outs of the Traversing system!
The young man cleared his throat.
"You! You are now mine to control! I order you to go outside and kill that beast at once!"
Crux sighed with annoyance and started to walk out of his summoning circle. The young boy kept his staff pointed his way, but Crux knew there was nothing he could do in his state. Plus, as he walked, Crux felt lighter and stronger than before. This was more than just the parasitic disease getting completely wiped from his body, but more so, he had gotten a huge buff in everything! Health, strength, stamina… even eyesight, which he greatly lacked.
'So it's true. We humans are stronger in this world than our own.'
Crux felt as though he could destroy a wall of the cave with a single punch if he tried. Finally, he reached the entrance of the cave and peeked his head out to see what had made the young man and his sister so battered and frightened.
Crux's eyes widened at the sight beyond.
"Whoa…"