Page 89 of Remnants: Disruption
“What?” they ask, though I can’t tell if they actually care or not.
“Her lying to me hurt more than anything physical has.”
“The God Queen has her reasons,” they respond.
“Where the fuck is she, anyways?” I snap, anger burning back at the heartache. “Figured she’d want to lie to my face again about ‘trusting her’ or ’letting her explain.’”
“She has many responsibilities. None of them relate to you,” their words sting. Like a fucking knife to a hemorrhaging heart.
“So, what’s next? You going to torture me? Get your rocks off and poke at a Death Afflicted Remnant?”
“What do you see in the darkness, Hiraeth?”
“Ghosts, dickhead. I see ghosts.”
They pause, as if considering their next words.
“I want to train you. You are already powerful; there is no doubt. The God Queen has yet to suffer a wound in battle in many centuries and yet you, of all people, were able to harm her.”
Despite it all, worry licks at my mind.
“Is she—”
“She is fine. Your shadows managed to pierce her siphon. Though if it was through panic or concentrated efforts is yet to be seen.”
“You want to train me for what? I’m not going to be some fucking tool. I’m done being used,” I feel exhaustion digging at my senses.
“You said that already. But you will be more powerful than Darkrend or the God Queen.”
“Why would you want that?” I ask, letting out a humorless laugh.
“To balance the scales. To save us. To stop what is coming.”
I stare at the figure for a few moments, wondering who the fuck they think they are. And if they seriously think I’m dumb enough to take them up on this.
Because what other option are they leaving me with? They lied. Mary lied. The Guild lied. The NCPD lied.
They’re all fucking complicit in this mess of a world, and I don’t owe them shit.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spit. “Kill me or whatever, I don’t give a shit.”
“Get some sleep,” they say, rising. “We will speak in the morning.”
“Am I a prisoner here?” I ask, glaring up at them.
“No,” they say, tilting their head. “But you are grievously wounded. I suggest you try to rest.”
And they’re right. Though I can feel my legs this time, everything else hurts. A lot. Whatever I did, it’s healing slowly.
The door opens and closes as the figure leaves without another word.
The Affliction lamp snuffs and the shadows begin in earnest. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it’s no use.
“Murderer,” someone hisses beside me.
“Violator,” another says.
“Freak,” yet another.
