Jace hesitated, his fist inches away from the metal door. His hand trembled before dropping to his side. Sighing heavily, Jace massaged his forehead.
He took a glance at his cyberlink as he exhaled once more. Flickering it on, Jace searched through the closed web, glancing at chats and news.
It was as he expected–Bill's death had spread in mere hours. News articles were popping up, most written by second years. Each tried to offer a unique perspective on the situation yet all had one similarity.
Jace struggled to think as he read the final words of the article written by Nathan. The piece had been a critically analytical look at Bill's effect yet it had ended with a short statement 'The Military has gotten the alleged killer. Further developments will be reported'
A sigh escaped Jace's lips as the weight on his chest lifted. Yet, in that comfort was fear. Jace knew the Military had ways of knowing exactly what happened.
Them making a mistake was too fantastical. It would be foolish to believe he had evaded punishment. And maybe that was what Jace was. Foolish. Because even as his mind screamed rationality, a part of his heart still believed, no matter how small, that he had really escaped.
Jace pushed the cyberlink away as he refocused on the door in front of him. He needed to know.
His fist banged against the door, the metal rattling as a clear voice arrived from beyond. "Come in,"
Pushing against the screeching door, Jace peered into the weapons room. Inhaling deeply as he muttered a few reaffirming words, Jace stepped in.
The room was bright, brighter than it had ever been. Posters hung around the room, the weapons seemingly showing all Jace's possible futures. The weapons rack lay gently just beside the door and Jace weighed the possibility of grabbing one. Until he noticed the Instructor.
His back rested on the desk, his hand supporting his body from behind. His head hung forward, like a man in deep pain and as he opened his eyes and glanced up, Jace's heart seized.
The Instructor's eyes lingered on Jace. Then he raised his head, pushed his body off the desk, and walked. As he travelled through the room, he spoke. "This morning, I was invited to a meeting pertaining to a murder."
Jace trembled, his legs barely supporting him. "You mean the murder on the news?"
"Sure," The Instructor whispered as he headed to the array of weapons "The meeting wasn't about the culprit. No. The meeting was about punishment, and imagine my surprise when I was gifted the task of being the Murderer's executioner"
The voice came out calm, almost like a whisper and Jace was terrified of that. Shouting, Screaming, those were things he could deal with. The calm confidence of a veteran wasn't. And so Jace's legs slid back even more.
"You know, the military works on the principle of higher priority. Importance is assigned according to worth. It's a cruel but efficient system. One that I abhor yet respect." The Instructor paused as he turned to Jace, his lips locked in an apologetic smile. "What weapon do you want?"
"Instru–I, I nee–"
The veteran cut in, his smile gone. "I asked what weapon you wanted. I can't kill an unarmed kid."
"I, I need a dagger." Jace fumbled as the Instructor turned and grabbed a weapon from the rack, tossing it. It was a short sword concealed in a brown scabbard.
"I, I just wa–" Jace started yet the Instructor cut in with that cold maddening whisper.
"Act, don't think. That's what Skye told you. That's what I told you. It's really funny, isn't it a cruel joke. You know,"
The Instructor's whispers rose. "You know for the first time, I thought that maybe I could make a difference. Maybe I could be a good mentor, a better mentor. But here we are. And here I am saying the exact same words. Act, don't think."
The Instructor turned back to Jace, his eyes damp "I've given you all you need to survive. You have 30 seconds. Say your prayers, tell me your last words, practice. I don't care. You only have thirty seconds."
Jace's heart sank as he struggled to move, to talk. Yet he couldn't. And so he muttered "Status,"
The blue screen materialized, hovering inches away from Jace's face.
[Name: Jace Vicea] Lv.5[<50/500>]
[Age:17]
[Race: Human (90%), Corrupted (10%)]
[Abilities: ???Fog?(Grade 6), Dark Energy]
[Bloodline: Vicea(Partially locked)]
[Titles: Marked by Fate, Invisible to Fate, Masochist, Killer]
[Strength: 14] Health[<20/20>]
[Speed: 13] Energy[<15/15>)
[Resistance: 10] Dark Energy [<25/25>]
[Stamina: 11]
[Reflexes: 15]
[Perception: 8]
[Ability Usage: 4]
Jace scanned through the screen, stopping at abilities. He frowned, shifting his gaze between the abilities and energy. On another day he would have jumped for joy at his new ability. But at that moment, all jace could feel was relief.
"Time's up," The instructor declared as he grabbed his weapon, his right hand almost outstretched. One hand gripped the round center, one of the blades at the end of the long weapon pointed at Jace.
"Wait," Jace pleaded, "I have an ability. I awakened."
Hope sprouted in his heart, that the cInstructor would put his weapon down.
Instead, the veteran laughed callously, twirling his sword to form a diagonal cross in front of his body. "I already told you, act.Time's already up."
His right hand still gripped the center, his left hand slightly lower, almost half an inch above one of the blades fixed to the end.
The blade at the top drove forward in an arc, the Instructor side-stepping slightly to allow room for the lower blade to rise. Jace shifted as the blade fell harmlessly to its side. Yet its companion on the other end soon appeared, aiming for a diagonal slash.
Jace shifted to the back as the Instructor ruthlessly commented. "Aren't you going to use your weapon? Or is this your plan? Try to be as defenseless as possible so you can later haunt me. If it is, it's rather idiotic.?"
He took a step forward, his blade twisting forward with him as he finished. "What's one more ghost to accompany me?"
Jace moved another step back as the blade barely struck him, the golden cutter barely touching the ground as its brother almost caught its opponent lacking on the left flank.
Sweat clung to Jace's skin as he just evaded another strike. His mind raced as he withdrew a few steps just as a blade neatly cut through the air less than a metre from Jace.
Jace took another step back, aware of how close he was to the wall. His breath was already rugged, his body exhausted yet Jace knew one misstep could lead to his death.
The Instructor knew that too so more attacks were bound to keep on coming. But Jace already had a plan. From the very first moment, the weakness behind his opponent's weapon had been glaring. It was too lengthy.
And that was exactly what Jace was planning to target. Baiting the Instructor to follow him into a closed area, preferably a corner, was the only way to turn the weapon's disadvantage into an advantage.
He shifted to his left, just as a blade came from above, cutting off access and nearly slicing his arm off. The second blade followed closely, the blade coming from the left and driving downward.
Escaping his perilous situation, Jace took a minute to get his breath back as the Instructor gazed at him. His face was without expression yet Jace could sense mocking from it, admonishing him for how clear his plan had been.
"Damn it," Jace muttered as he recalled how close he was to being disabled. His heart thumped against his chest as Jace felt an emotion slowly entering his brain, firing his thoughts to overdrive and raising every hair on his skin–Fear.
Because even though Jace had known he could die, he had still treated the fight like a spar between a teacher and his student. But it wasn't a spar. It was an execution.
And Jace needed to start treating the fight like a life and death one.
Still panting, Jace's eye glowed as his lone skill activated. The Instructor tilted his head as if curious, before twisting his weapon as a blade nearly struck Jace.
With dusk eyes active, Jace easily weaved the attack, noting how the veteran had spun his body to avoid being impaled by the other end of his weapon. A pattern. A smile crossed his lips as he considered that perhaps he could win.
He couldn't.
Over the span of minutes, Jace soon realised that. The Instructor's actions had always been calm and controlled. After dusk eyes, he began ramping up the intensity. As if testing the limits of Jace's new vision.
Before long, Jace's mind was swarmed with the thought of half a dozen attacks. His focus was fixed yet the Instructor defied all logic. His weapon began looking more like a whip, the two blades moving in directions that broke laws.
And then the older veteran thrusted. His weapon slipped from his grasp as the end pointed at Jace, The young boy was already side-stepping. Until the Instructor grabbed the weapon by the blade on his side, and swung the other end, nearly splitting Jace in half.
Heat tore through Jace's side. His body suddenly felt cold yet his sides felt warm. How?Why? Jace's mind raced as his body fell.
And the Instructor stood calmly, his palm bleeding from grabbing the blade. "You know, I was taught something. To punish your enemy, you must punish yourself."
The older man spoke eerily calm as Jace could feel his vision fading. He could see the veteran, walking calmly to him. The man's sword was raised high yet his face still seemed the same. Just unfeeling and empty.
Jace hated that. He hated their looks. He hated the way they spoke. He hated their thoughts and ideas. He hated them. Jace hated hated hated… He hated them all.
An otherworldly heat rose inside him as a smoky substance emerged from Jace's skin. It floated freely yet slowly, engulfing the arena in fog impossible to see through.
The veteran frowned as he watched Jace disappear beneath the fog. The weapon struck down at nothing, the younger boy vanishing from his previous position.
The older man's frown deepened as he raised his weapon and adjusted his stance, surveying his surroundings. The fog was impossible to see through, all sound muffled in his ears.
He took a few steps cautiously, the fog making way for him while still limiting his vision. Until the stamping of foot came to his attention and he turned to see Jace, his short sword poking the older man's side.
On the ground, drops of blood formed a tiny pool as the young boy smiled victoriously, "I win,"
Then his blade clattered to the ground. Jace fell as the older man reached out and grabbed his shirt, raising him up. The veteran's face was still emotionless, as if Jace's actions were nothing more than a temper tantrum.
Then the older man lifted his sword, fitted it firmly on Jace;s throat, and questioned. "Who ar–No. Frankly, I don't care about any of that? Are you on the military's side in the war? That is all I will need."
Jace closed his eyes as chuckles escaped from his lips. Really. Right before he was about to die and that was his executioner's question. Chuckles turned to a smile as Jace whispered "No. I will never be on the Military's side in this war. But I will be in Humanity's."
As he spoke, darkness clouded his vision as his final words slowly faded. Had his executioner heard? Yet as the darkness captured him, Jace felt that care fade. And so he relaxed and let himself drown in the depths.