In a room tattered and filled with filth, a figure lay on a couch. Bandages covered his body, and blood seeped out from these wounds. Some of the bandages were small while others were as big as one's hand. The wounds themselves were also various, from simple cuts to holes that would make the weak of heart pale just from the sight alone.
"God damn it! Vallen, you better not die," a man shouted as he scrounged through vials and tubes that were scattered across a table not that far from the bleeding figure. The man shoved rolls of paper aside, not caring that some of them fell onto the grease covered floor. He grabbed several colored vials from the open containers, shaking them to see bubbles form.
The man gritted his teeth as he threw a red, bubbling vial at the wall. "It's expired! How long has it been since I checked this place!" The man cursed at himself as he ran to the cabinets and pulled them out with such force that much of their contents flew out and crashed onto the floor.
His hands rummaged through the cabinets, tossing away stacks of papers and red bubbling vials. He searched frantically, his brown eyes buzzing as he searched for the one thing that could save the sleeping man's life.
"Where! Where the hell did I put it!" The man shouted as he tore out several cabinets, then rushed to a nearby closet and slammed the doors open. Not caring that the handle was torn out, or the fact that the wall was not cracked from the force of the door slamming against it.
He tossed out the coats and clothes that he had stuffed in it, not noticing that those clean new clothes were now mixed with the red liquid and broken glass that littered the floor.
The man breathed frantically as his mind buzzed. His hands then grabbed a brown wooden box as he tried to open it. But failed to notice the lock that kept the box shut. A normal person would not even make the lid budge from their strength alone. Yet this man tore open this wooden box as though it were just a piece of taffy in his hand.
Inside were five red vials. Of the five, four of them were bubbling, but one of them was as still as water. The man grabbed the still vial and smiled. He then turned around and rushed to the table, grabbing a device that looked like a mix between a gun and a syringe. The man opened the vial and twisted it onto the back of this strange device.
He tapped the vial several times to make sure it was screwed on tight before rushing to the bleeding man. He fell onto his knees beside the man. He gently lifted the slumbering man's head and tilted it to the side, revealing his neck.
"Vallen, I know you wouldn't want to die knowing our siblings died without getting to live their lives. I also know you would rather die before becoming a Wielder. So, I beg for you to overlook what I am about to do to you," the man said before he plunged the device into the bleeding man's neck.
A hissing sound escaped the device, followed by a sharp click. Slowly, the red vial was drained out and flowed through the device. It flowed through the tubes inside the device, making several turns and funneling into many different compartments. Some shocked it, and others swirled it around. But in each tube, they all led to a syringe that was plunged into the man's neck. The liquid slowly flowed into the man's body, spreading from his veins to every nook and cranny.
The bleeding man began coughing as his body began to violently jolt around. The man kneeling quickly got up and held the bleeding man's body down. Sweat dripped from his face as the jolts and spasms worsened by the second.
The man wished for this to stop, but he knew it would not so quickly. The man kept both his hands on the bleeding man's arms, trying his best to keep him still.
"Cough cough cough*."
The bleeding man began coughing violently, and his breath began wheezing, as though someone had their hands wrapped around his neck and were just gripping it as though their life depended on it. Veins began to show across the man's body as his heart beat faster and faster.
"Vallen! Don't you die! Please don't die!" The man shouted as tears began to stream down his face, staring at the bleeding man. Memories rushed through his head of how this man had found him and his sister huddling in an alleyway. How he, unlike the people of Floor 7, did not walk past them or look at them with disdain. But instead gave them money and some food. He and his sister were wary of that man at first, but soon reached their hands out and accepted his gift.
For the first time since their parents' death, they ate food not found in the trash nor tasted as though someone vomited on it. But genuine food that was just bought recently. As he and his sister ate, they watched the man smile and walk away.
Before the man disappeared, he made a choice for both of them. He grabbed his sister by the hand and rushed to the man. They followed the man, both staring at his back. He had expected the man to shoo them away or curse them, but he did not do such a thing. Instead, the man reached a dingy apartment.
Both of them watched from a distance as the man grabbed a pair of keys and unlocked the door. He opened the door and stood there for several seconds before turning around and facing them. From his lips came words that changed their fate, "are you coming in?"
Since then, both of them stayed with the man and became his first siblings. Over time, more and more kids like them followed the man and joined their family. Their once miserable lives were changed for the better, and all of that was thanks to this man.
"So don't you dare die, Vallen! Not before we avange them! Not before we hunt those bastards down! Not before we avenge my sister!" The man shouted at the top of his lungs as he stared at the sweating and spasming man.
.
.
.
In a dark space, two figures stood. One was white, and the other was red. They both stared at each other for a long period of time, both saying nothing. They weren't blind to what was happening outside their body; they knew of Morrow and what was happening to their body.
"It seems he really doesn't want us to die," the white figure said as he stared at the red figure, who said nothing back but just continued staring. The white figure sighed as the silence slowly filled the space once again.
"Vallen, do you like your new life?" The white figure asked as he cocked his head to the side.
The red figure stared for a moment before nodding his head.
"Is it better than your old life?" The white figure said, grinning at the red figure.
The red figure once again nodded its head.
The white figure smiled at that response. The black space shook violently, yet neither of them seemed to care. Their eyes were glued to one another.
"What's the point of living this life? I mean, you failed to protect this family, just like you did with your old one. So why not give up on this life and join me?" The white figure said as they extended their hand out.
The red figure stared at the white figure's hand before opening their mouth, "because unlike you. I still have a brother who is still breathing."
The smile on the white figure disappeared as their extended hand slowly fell to their side. They stared at the red figure for an unknown amount of time, "You know that you will fail in your task. I have known you since we were once both the same person."
"We are not the same," the red figure said, "we are not the same because of one reason."
"And what would that reason be? Because you are happy? Because you had a life? Because you had siblings? Because you had a home?" The white figure said, voice tinted in venom.
"I will not give up and choose the easy way out," the red figure said as they walked towards the white figure.
Hearing this, the white figure gritted their teeth, "You say that, but you and I know that we both made the same choice in that life! We both did and still would have made that choice! Do you want me to remind you that you are nothing more than the memories of this life! A life that was given to us because we! No! You chose to jump from that building! After mom died, after dad ran away, after our brother and sister abandoned us to the streets!"
The red figure kept walking.
The white figure took two steps back, "You say we are not the same person! You may be right, but you still failed just like me! You watched our mother die once again! You killed our father with your own hands! You watched as those people took and killed our brothers and sisters! You watched the sector we worked hard to protect burn to ash!"
The red figure did not waver.
The white figure took three steps back, "You who was feared by all! You, who had the strength to beat even Wielders in a one-on-one fight, even as a normal person! You! You who had killed more people than any sane person would have! You who did nothing but crumble onto the floor from one strike! One strike! Watching as our brothers and sisters disappear before having the place you once called home crumble on top of you!"
A blade appeared in the hands of the red figure.
The white figure, upon seeing the blade, gritted their teeth. "Tell me! What makes you so different from me?! In my eyes, you are far worse than me! So tell me!"
The red figure stood inches from the white. Both could feel the space shake around them.
"Because, unlike you. I am not going to give up. Unlike you, who failed to go to our mother in the hospital, I was there to see our mother die. Unlike you, who watched our father run away, I killed our father and avenged our mother. Unlike you, who had siblings and allowed them to vanish from your life, I had none and yet was able to make a family."
The blade plunged into the white figure's stomach. The white figure lurched forward, their hand gripping the red figure's shoulder.
The white figure stared at the red figure's eyes. The red eyes bore down onto their very own white eyes. As though they were looking at something that brought a bad taste to their mouth.
"So... you're really going to abandon your past life to live in this life?" The white figure asked, their knees shaking.
"Why should I allow the past to chain me down?" The red figure asked in response.
The white figure just stood there before smiling, "You're right. Why should you allow the past to chain you down? Especially if the past was a loser."
The red figure pulled the blade out and grabbed the white figure before they could fall onto the black floor. Their arm wrapped around the white figure's back as they gently laid him onto the ground. Cracks slowly spread across their body.
"Are you sure this is the right choice?" The white figure asked, "What if you mess up in this life and still choose the same option as me?"
"That is never going to happen. Not until I kill the bastard who dared attack my family," the red figure said as he stared into the white figure's eyes.
The white figure smiled, "Tell me. Vallen. Do you remember what Carol said about Wielders and how they are made?"
"I remember. One must either be in sync with the Arcana by experiencing a strong emotional fluctuation or by having Arcana pushed into your body," the red figure said.
"Well, Morrow just injected us with Arcana. But if I'm honest, we already experienced a really big emotional fluctuation. So let's not be a downgraded Wielder that is used in the Reavers and instead actually be a natural born one," the white said as they open their mouth one last time to ask their final question.
"What are you?"
With that question, the white figure crumbled into nothing but white specks lost in the black space.
The red figure stood up, their red slowly draining away and being replaced by white. They stared at the white specks, "I am a boy who wandered the streets hungry. I am a teen who fought tooth and nail for a single scrap. I am a man who killed men and women just for money. I am a brother who shielded his siblings from monsters that roamed the streets in the skin of men. I am a wretch who failed to protect his family. I am a wanderer once more who vows to avenge his family. I am the White Tide."