Paul Mosscrest, isn't that the name of one of the 12?
Who are you, and why are you even here?
Where is everyone?
"I know that this must all be very confusing to you. You two defeated the devil of sight, so that's something to be proud of. Congratulate yourselves."
How exactly do you know about that? Who told you that we defeated the devil?
Paul chuckled to himself quietly and stood proud, with a smile so large you couldn't see his eyes.
It was unsettling.
"There's a lot I know, Marx and the things I know don't precoup you, but something that I do know might be useful to you is your friend right there."
Paul was talking about Baron's limp body, which he clung to.
"He's not looking too good if I had to take a guess, and onto of that, I can tell you with a good understanding that he won't make it through the night unless you come with me.
Marx, confused and understandably wary of the man, looked around, knowing that no one was near and that both men were in no condition to fight back. Marx, hesitating, chose to give in and agreed to follow Paul.
We'll go, but I'm not leaving his side, understand.
"Of course! I would never suggest such a thing, alrighty then, right this way!"
Paul walked towards the western wall of Breakpoint and opened up a gate, walking through it, gesturing Marx to follow with Baron.
Baron, don't worry, it's all gonna be okay.
Cautiously, Marx stepped through the portal only to witness a hallway in a dark, very dark room.
What is this place?
"Oh, don't worry, Marx, just continue following. Don't forget this is to save your friend, right?"
*gulp*
Franticly, Marx looked around, trying to find any form of life or escape as he followed Paul down the seemingly never-ending hallway.
It was to no use. He was trapped.
"If you wouldn't mind!"
The two had reached a door at the end of the corridor, and Paul gripped tightly to the knob holding the door open and putting his hand out for Marx and Baron to walk through.
Looking through the door reminded Marx of his childhood as though he was looking down the barrel of a shotgun.
The life of a bounder is never easy.
What is this room?
"It's a place or more like a garden of reform."
reform? Reform from what's going on here?!
"Go through the room, Marx."
Paul's tone changed. He wasn't messing around; Marx knew he no longer had a choice if he ever did have one.
Just... please don't hurt him.
"I would never consider it!"
Head held low, body shaking under Baron and his own weight, tired Marx walked through the room only to have the door shut behind him.
*SLAMM*
Marx didn't react. He had already pieced together that they had seen something that wasn't supposed to or were just dealt a bad hand.
Huh? What'd you know? I knew that this place reminded me of my childhood.
In front of Marx was a metal stainless steel table glimmered under the luminous light shining down in front of Marx. On the table was a shotgun loaded already with two black bullets, darker than Marx had ever seen.
*Static*
"Pick it up."
Marx set Baron down in the corner, ensuring his head faced downwards so as not to choke on his tongue or witness what was about to occur.
Please don't hurt him.
"pick it up."
Marx sighed and softly began to say a prayer to whatever god he worshipped and picked up the shotgun.
"Raise it to your head."
Marx complied, raising the gun to his head, and closed his eyes, having his finger on the trigger.
"SHOOT IT!!"
ibram.
*BANGG*
"Go pick them both up; we have much to do and not enough time; get them both prepped for reform."
Men wearing upside-down fool masks barged into the room, picking up Baron and what was left of Marx. Dragging them both out of the room and down to an even deeper level of the labyrinth.
*Gasps for air*
WHAT THE F*CK, WHERE THE HELL AM I?
"he's awake. Distribute 44 drops of LD into his tank."
WHAT?! WHERE AM I HELP HELP!!
Marx had seemingly come back from the dead and was now being operated on in a brightly lit room without his consent.
"F*ck, he's starting to reject the LD. Can someone sedate him? We can't afford to lose both!"
WHERES BARON! BARONN!!
His eyes, franticly dissecting every bit of information before them, were drawn to what was happening right under his nose.
MY… MY LEGS AHHH!
Marx's legs seemed black and looked made of liquid that flowed upwards, defying the laws of nature and being pulled in by a massive blob of liquid.
BARON!
Baron's head protruded out at the tip of the blob as if his body was being cocooned in the liquid.
WHAT THE….
*silence*
"Good, he's out again. That was a close call, Paul. What should we do? The reformation isn't done yet?"
We'll continue to proceed with the procedure but ensure only his consciousness remains. I'll handle the rest. Don't worry; this devil is ours.
-An unspecified amount of time passes-
"Wake up."
huh?
"WAKE UP!"
what?
"BARON WAKE UP"
what? OH, sorry.. sorry, I must have fallen asleep, Sir. Paul, please forgive me, and Marx just got back.
"I'll let this go since I know that you must be exhausted after your battle; it's such a shame that the devil got away in that manor slaughtering all of your party; I'm so very sorry for your loss. Were you close with your party?"
Yeah, Marx and the whole party tried our best, but we couldn't defeat it. In the end, only I and I managed to escape from the Gate. We ended up running like cowards, leaving our party to die.
"Listen, I've seen hundreds of bounders and adventures walk through these halls, going to fight the devil and demons and losing their lives because they weren't "cowards." what you did was not cowardice. It was strength. Without it, you would just be another tally I would be forced to mark down."
Thank you, Sir, but it doesn't really help.
Baron's guilt weighed heavy, forcing his head down and looking directly towards the ground.
"I have one question though, Baron, if you don't mind, it's about the battle."
Yes, of course, feel free to ask.
"Who is this Marx you speak of only you made it out?"
what did you say?