Dimensions Collide: Destiny Bond

“You need to eat the veggies, too,” John said reluctantly. He, too, wasn’t super fond of them, but it was strange for Prota to avoid them. She would eat anything as long as it was good, and John had to admit that some of the vegetables found in this world were pretty tasty.

“Mm…” she pushed them around her plate with her fork without eating them. John just sighed.

Whenever he explained things like [Plot] and things related to the [Story], she was really mature. She could kill. She could keep a relatively cool head in battle. But something like eating her veggies…

“Just bear with it, John,” Zero sighed.

“I thought you were the one who was complaining about bad writing. Where’s all that talk now?” John grumbled as he shoveled another fork load of food into his mouth.

“I… well, isn’t it fine? At least she’s not fully mature.”

“It’s fine?”

“For you, that is. Think about it. Would you rather have someone who was like this all the time?”

John just chewed silently, fuming at his loss.

~~~

“You called us for what now?”

Three men were sitting around a table in a small room. None of their faces were visible. At the front stood Breaker, large and intimidating as always.

“An elimination mission. Just get rid of them. I don’t really care how.”

“You said it’s a kid?” one of the men said in a disgusted tone. “Seriously? Don’t you think you’re ordering us around a little too easily? Come on, go send someone else for something like this.”

“Oh? Someone’s acting a little disrespectful today,” Breaker growled. “Want me to remind you of your place?”

The man went quiet.

“Just kill them. I don’t really care what you do to them as long as it’s not attention grabbing.”

“So can we kidnap them? I want the little girl for myself. The rest of you better keep your hands off.”

Breaker gave them a disgusted look before turning around. “Whatever. Whatever fucked up fantasies you have, I don’t wanna hear about them. Just make sure the job gets done.”

With that, Breaker left the room. The three men nodded at each other and then vanished, leaving an empty room behind.

~~~

“...shit.”

Prota looked up at John with a confused expression. What?

“Behind us. Three presences. Can you feel their mana cores?”

Prota closed her eyes and focused as they walked towards their inn, and sure enough, there were some people following them. Three behind them, and-

“Three?” Prota said, looking at John. “Only three?”

“I only saw three. Why, are there more?” John frowned.

“Four,” Prota said. “One over there.”

Prota pointed to their right, but there was quite literally no one there. Just buildings and an empty street.

“...are you sure?”

Prota nodded.

“Who… oh, fuck me,” John sighed. “Is he still watching us?”

He reached into his hoodie and pulled out a knife. There had been no knife in his pocket, but he couldn’t go and use his pocket dimension openly while others were watching.

“...does this mean I can’t kill the others?” John muttered. “Who’s trailing us? Are they with the suit guy? Or are they part of some other group?”

Had he done anything suspicious lately? Prota was strong, sure, but was that a reason to have four men trail him? He wasn’t exactly surprised at Bren’s presence, but were they really a group that warranted three more trails?

“Maybe it’s better to stay in his line of sight…?”

John turned to Prota. “Hey, how strong are the three behind us?”

“Um… big. Big cores,” she said, stretching her arms to emphasize the point.

“Hm… well, it’s not a bad time to test the waters out.”

John took the knife in one hand and his pistol in the other, then tucked them into his pockets where they’d be more available.

“Let’s see just how well I can do.”

~~~

“Prota. Are they still following us?”

Prota nodded. They were deep into the woods now.

“The fourth one, too?”

Prota nodded again.

“...maybe the other three are really with him?” John muttered. If they were enemies, then surely Bren would’ve noticed them. If nothing had happened, that surely meant that they were allies, right?

“Prota.”

“...?”

“We’re probably going to fight. If that happens, we might have to kill those people. I- well, I guess it’s a little too late to be asking this, but are you ok with that?”

“...” Prota didn’t respond.

“I’m fine if you don’t want to kill them. That’s not your job.”

Prota hesitated. “Are they bad guys?”

“Uh… maybe?” John shrugged. “It’s a little hard to say. But if they attack us, then yeah, they’re probably bad guys.”

Bad guys. That was a term he didn’t like using. It was way too ambiguous. The paladins that had attacked Prota weren’t “bad guys,” but were their deaths justified? Sure, they were the enemy. If John and Prota were the main characters, then sure, they could be classified as “bad guys.” But they weren’t the main characters. So who was the real villain?

What if it was Prota?

“Prota. What if they’re not bad guys? Will you still do it?”

“...”

“You can always leave. You don’t have to stay and fight.”

Prota shook her head. If they were trying to kill John, then she had a job to do. That didn’t mean she had to kill them. That just meant that she had to stop them.

The only question was whether or not she had the capability of doing something like that. Could she? She shook her head. If she tried to stop them without killing them, she’d likely die first.

Somehow, the existence of [Reset] seemed to leave her mind in times like these.

Closing her eyes, she felt the mana of the three men getting closer. The fourth source, the one John apparently knew, was still a decent way away, and it didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

Before they even got within visible range, she extended her tendrils and immediately began absorbing mana from the potential enemies. As the energy entered her body, a new, unfamiliar magic began to form in her mind.

However, now wasn’t the time to use it. She didn’t have the luxury of analyzing a new skill she’d just received. It was unlike the time she’d learned wind magic, where it’d been instinctive. This was different. She’d have to fight with what she had.

Three men burst out of the trees, their faces and bodies blurry, as if there was a kind of fog surrounding them. Prota immediately used up all her mana in a volley of fireballs, then absorbed the mana of her enemies and cast mana recovery. Habits had begun to integrate themselves into her fighting style, making her decisions more fluid and flexible.

She fired. And she missed. And missed again. These men were nowhere near the level of the bandits or goblins. They were trained. They were strong. And Prota couldn’t keep up. It would’ve been ridiculous if she was keeping up, because that would’ve meant she was on par with trained fighters, but something like that wasn’t something she was aware of.

She could feel the energy slipping from her body. Each spell that missed was a bit of mana, a bit of energy wasted. Even if she could last longer than the average mage of her size, that didn’t mean she could outlast everyone. She was beginning to rely on her instincts more and more.

It was because of these habits that she was capable of fighting at such a level at all. Her mental state had deteriorated noticeably, causing her to fight in a desperate manner. Rather than a flame burning in her heart, her motivation was more like a dying candle, sputtering out, trying to stay alive.

Her mental state hadn’t been the best upon going into the fight. She’d been thinking about how she could survive, rather than how she could win. From the very start, she’d assumed she was going to lose. That she wasn’t good enough. And those thoughts continued to peck at her mind, wearing it down. Each time she missed, the voices grew louder.

Four fights. Four tests. The bandits, the goblins, and Elfin, twice. Four times she’d tried to win a fight, and she’d never really gotten the results she wanted. Just one win. She just wanted to prove she was strong once.

The three men spread out, two of them going for Prota, one going for John. She wanted to help him, but she didn’t have time to focus as she desperately fought against the two men who were easily overwhelming her. They would vanish into the shadows and then reappear in random areas. It was impossible to track them, and their pattern of disappearing and reappearing was irregular. It was taking all she had to block their attacks.

…maybe it was just better to die.

Her morale was sinking into the pits. Her brain was shutting off, a habit she’d learned from her time on the streets.

It wasn’t much. Her understanding of the magic was primitive at best, but with it, her movements became slightly less noticeable, her body slightly harder to track.

“What the- hey, I thought she could only use three kinds of magic.”

“Your info is as good as mine.”

“Isn’t this an issue?”

“Just kill her.”

“I said I wanted to keep her as a pet. Don’t you dare kill her.”

In one last coordinated attack, the two men leapt forwards, brandishing their knives. Had she not been so caught up with her own thoughts, she would’ve noticed, but it was just a bit too late. Her brain warned her of the incoming bloodlust, but her body didn’t respond in time to completely avoid the attack.

Knives plunged into her body, blood staining her white coat a crimson red. As if in retaliation, an ice wall erupted up from the ground, leaving the battle in a stalemate.

“Argh! Fuck!” one of the men gasped. His leg was bent at a weird angle, stuck in the wall of ice.

The other man’s face slowly twisted into a sick grin as he flipped the knife in his hand.

“Hey. That did quite the number on you, right?”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Looks like the opponents were stronger than we thought,” the man snickered. “It’s such a shame that you didn’t make it out.”

“You bit-”

He didn’t get to finish. A knife was plunged cleanly into his neck, instantly severing the spine, snuffing out a life like one might flick a switch.

“Now that that son of a bitch is gone…”

The assassin’s eyes lit up. “I’m gonna cut you up real good, so stay still like a good little plaything.”

The knives in his hands began to twirl as he licked his lips sadistically.

“I’m willing to bet you can’t do that again,” the man taunted. “That spell.”

He walked around slowly, like a cat stalking prey.

He was both right and wrong. Prota technically had the mana and energy to cast the spell one more time. But she had no will to do so. Death. Why hadn’t she died a long time ago? Why was she still alive? Her struggle to protect John was pointless. She couldn’t even do that much, let alone protect herself.

And yet, something inside her didn’t want to- no, it couldn’t quit. But why? What else was there for her to do?

She didn’t know. But something inside her did.

Somehow, with a final struggle, even in the depths of depression, her body squeezed out every drop of mana it had left, every last bit of energy to cast one final spell. Prota didn’t want it, consciously or subconsciously, but her soul was still fighting for something, even if Prota herself didn’t know what that was.

With a final push, a brilliant light erupted from her chest.

[Mana core: Upgraded from D rank to B rank.]

Her assailant was temporarily blinded, giving Prota a chance to recover. The fog in her mind disappeared.

Her core had been upgraded. Even if she’d somehow managed to grow, why did she feel so refreshed? Did upgrading one’s core have that effect? She didn’t think she’d be able to ask anyone since this was something she’d never heard of before, but…

A second chance. She’d just been given a second chance. The candle in her heart was still sputtering, but it’d just been relit. Even if it was just for a moment longer, she had to go on.

Think. She had to think. There were two abilities related to stamina. One, the one she used more, was mana recovery. The other was mana reinforcement, which simply augmented her body. Sure, it gave her more stamina, trading mana for energy, but was it enough to compensate for the way she felt at the moment?

As she continued to dodge, the answer came to her.

It was a combination of both.

Her body, now stronger than before, was also recovering at a faster rate. Mana recovery was a spell that used up all the mana in one’s system, so obviously, more mana would equate to faster recovery. Similarly, now that she had more mana to use, her body would also be stronger and would have more energy.

With her newfound energy, she unleashed another torrent of spells and found that the power of each spell could also be increased. She couldn’t cast anything complicated, but a simple increase in power was more than enough.

Unfortunately, the mana in her staff was about half empty already. She looked at the men in front of her. She’d been absorbing mana from them as well, but she’d been doing it slowly. So what if she did it faster?

“What the-” the assassin gasped. He stared at Prota with a frown but then was shocked back to reality as a loud boom rang through the forest. There was a brief pause of absolute silence, broken only by the wind blowing through the leaves.

No one moved.

Suddenly, Prota felt a surge of energy, followed by the sound of a cry of pain.

“...John.”

Prota grit her teeth, then sprinted full force towards the source of the sound. No. Not again. It was just a bad dream, another nightmare-

“You’re dead, bastard!”

Prota looked up to see the assassin just about to plunge his knife into John’s chest. There was no time for thinking. Just time for action. She leapt forwards, propelling herself with magic, and caught the knife with her own body. Both John and the assassin were stunned by the sudden interruption, but John recovered first, pulling out his gun and immediately firing. There was no hesitation, just a crack followed by a spray of blood, but John wasn’t even paying attention to that.

“What the- what did you do?” he frowned, his eyes trembling. “What are you doing?”

“...” the light in Prota’s eyes began to dim.

What had she been expecting? Total victory? Somehow, she’d been expecting that. She’d been expecting herself to dominate her opponents, wipe them out with sheer will and power, to overwhelm the enemy with her newfound power. Why had she powered up? For what?

Just to lose?

Right. She was weak. She’d been temporarily disillusioned by her rank up, but in the end, the result was still the same. Maybe it really was best for her to die. To disappear. The candle that had just been burning bright was exhausted now. There’d been one last hurrah, and with nothing left, it’d just burned away the bits of fuel that had remained.

“Hey. Hey, stay awake! You wanna do this all over again?”

“John, you fucking idiot! You can’t fix this with a [Reset]! Do you still not get it?”

“Get what, you bastard? Why don’t you explain something properly for once in your life?!”

“She doesn’t care if she dies! You’ve been pushing her far too hard, and now she’s paying the price for it!”

“Why would she-”

“I don’t know, maybe because some idiot gives her tasks that she can’t complete?”

“What do you-”

“Think, John, think! You told her to protect you. Do you know how deeply she took that to heart? Then you gave her multiple impossible tasks that she couldn’t complete. Now what? What does she do now? You said it yourself, didn’t you? Take some responsibility and do something! How dense can you possibly be?”

“...!”

John stared at his trembling hands. Right. He’d said it himself. How had he forgotten? Somehow, he’d been so blinded by the idea that [Characters] could overcome anything that he’d forgotten that Prota wasn’t just a [Character]. She could lose. She could lose and never win. It wasn’t necessarily in the cards for her to come out of every fight as the victor.

“Then what the fuck do you want me to do?” John roared out loud.

“What the- John?”

“Fate?” John said, rubbing his eyes to make sure that she was seeing properly.

“Looks like I made it here in time,” the masked boy nodded. His cloak was stained with blood, and his fists were clenched and trembling, visibly upset about something. “Are you ok?”

“Where’s Bren?” John wheezed. “Wait, no. You have to have a potion or something, right?”

“You’re not in a state to be asking questions like that,” Fate said. He took out a glass bottle filled to the brim with a red liquid. A potion. He tossed it to John, who just barely caught it with his good arm.

“Give that to her.”

There was a pop as John dug out the cork, not wasting any time as he touched the tip of the glass to Prota’s lips. She wasn’t swallowing. Grimacing, he held her head up and forced the liquid to go down, then carefully removed the knife from her body. Taking the scarf from his neck, he formed a makeshift bandage, rapidly wrapping the wound. The blood was seeping through, but she was probably safe. For now.

“What happened here?” Fate asked.

“What the fuck does it look like?”

“Who was it?”

“Does it look like I know?” John snapped. “If I knew, don’t you think I would’ve done something about it?”

[Determination activates! Limit obtainable: x10000]

“What the fuck does that do?” John yelled. “How does that help me now?”

“What?”

“Not talking to you. Shut up.”

“...she’ll live, you know.”

“That’s not my concern.”

Fate started to say something, but then decided otherwise. He just shrank back, leaving John to himself. He could see John’s hands shaking as he held the scarf down, applying pressure around the cut, doing his best to keep Prota alive. Fate shook his head. John had said that surviving wasn’t his concern, but it sure didn’t seem that way.

Prota eventually seemed to stabilize. John picked her up and turned around without a word.

“If I can do anything-”

“We’re fine. You did enough. See you around.”

He turned away, but not before Fate caught a glimpse of John’s expression. Dead. Cold and empty.

~~~

“Hey. Wake up now.”

Ever since they’d gotten back to the inn, Prota had fallen asleep and wouldn’t wake back up. Zero assured John that she would get up eventually, but warned him that she wouldn’t do much. After all, what motivation did she have?

“How did I-”

“You saw her as a [Character]. Not a person,” Zero sighed. “She has feelings too, you know? It’s not just about getting things done. She wants to succeed, John. She wants to do well.”

“Didn’t she, though?”

“Did she? Think about it. Every fight she’s been through. Has she ever done anything on her own? Did she ever fully succeed? Sure, she did ‘good enough.’ But is that really enough? You never gave her the satisfaction of following all the way through. You never granted her the feeling of accomplishing something great.”

“Are you kidding? These fights aren’t normal; these are [Protagonist] levels of accomplishment! We took on quests far above her rank!”

“She doesn’t know that. She just knows that you asked her to do these things.”

“But that’s-”

“What a real person would want to do.”

Zero sighed and appeared, sitting on John’s bed.

“You’re so insistent on drawing a line between “reality” and “fiction” that you fail to understand that sometimes, they’re not so different. John, you can’t just look at “results.” You’re a [Character], too.”

“...”

“Look at Prota. You do care. You just don’t want to show it. How would you feel if you lost her?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

“Fine. Then think about it this way. Don’t you think she would feel the same way if she lost you?”

John’s blank expression didn’t change as he put his hand on Prota’s forehead. It was warm, unlike her expression.

“...is pain really the only way to progress the [Plot]?”

“They seem to love it,” Zero shrugged. “John. Just like light needs darkness to exist, joy needs pain and sadness to exist. If all you do if enjoy life, doesn’t it get dull?”

“No.”

“That’s just what you think. John. [Characters] need suffering in order to show that they’re doing well. Otherwise that joy loses its meaning. So… yeah, I guess it does need to exist.”

“But I’m not a [Character]. I’m ‘real’! I don’t have to go through all that!”

“You’re “real” here as well, John.”

“But I’m real out there too, aren’t I? So then why do I have to play the puppet?”

Zero just looked away.

“I can’t answer that.”

“Of course you can’t.”

John just sighed and walked over to his bed, then sat on the edge next to Zero and waited for Prota to wake up.

~~~

Prota was asleep, but that didn’t mean she was resting. In fact, it probably would’ve been much more restful for her had she been awake.

Her mind was filled with nightmares, tormented with augmented memories of the past. Her tormentors towered over her, leaving her unable to defend herself. The hands that reached out to help her perished as they helped her up, withering away as they blamed her.

She couldn’t escape. She couldn’t run. Her legs were too weak to carry her, her mind to weak to control the power that resided inside her.

Hadn’t she given up? Why was she still here?

Her eyes snapped open as blood flowed over her barren feet. The liquid was still warm as it trickled past her, flowing into infinity.

“Prota…”

A shiver ran down her spine as John’s familiar voice called out to her.

“You failed.”

“I-”

“You’re too weak. Why did I ever take someone like you in?”

“...”

“You’re just a demon that can’t even protect itself. You should’ve died a long time ago.”

John’s body fell limp as blood continued to flood from it, slowly engulfing the world until the blood was like an ocean, already at Prota’s knees.

“What did you think you could do? Match up to all the giants out there? Know your place.”

Prota didn’t react. Her passive face didn’t even twitch.

This wasn’t new to her. All these thoughts were doubts she always had. She’d just never thought too hard about them.

Was it time to give up?

She wanted to. She wanted to stop and drown. Maybe she couldn’t do anything, but at least she could stop being a burden, right?

But there was a still, silent voice that was whispering to her.

“Then why did you go with John?”

She couldn’t answer the question. The blood was up to her chin. She wanted to fall back and disappear, forever. She’d been given one last chance, and she’d fumbled it somehow.

It was as if she’d been pulled up from the depths, only to be dropped back down. Not only was she back where she’d started, but she’d been dropped from such a height that she wondered if it was even possible to recover.

“Then why aren’t you gone?”

“...”

“Remember.”

She could’ve disappeared. She could’ve chosen to forget, on the day of that first reset. She’d always had that option.

But if she chose to remember, she’d keep John, someone who she’d never lose.

The blood started to drain.

So really, there was a clear choice waiting for her.

She was still scared. She still didn’t know what to do. She was weak, afraid, but…

She wasn’t alone. For now.

The blood was all gone now, as if it’d never been there in the first place. John’s body was still on the ground, but somehow, it didn’t feel so painful. He’d be back. All he had to do was [Reset].

“Thank you..”

The light in his eye went out, but not before he whispered his last message.

“You… were real.”

Right. Maybe John would leave her. But until then, he was still here.

~~~

“..rota, Prota, c’mon, wake up…”

Prota’s eyes opened to find John sleeping on a chair, his head on her bed. She sat up slowly and put her hand on his head, then rubbed it, feeling his hair run between her fingers.

Her dull eyes lit up just a bit.