49. Truth (Part II)
He charged with his sword, aimed straight at me. I quickly dodged to the side. There was no opening. He looked over his shoulder and swung. Another dodge.
He was quick on his feet and maneuvered skillfully for a man of his size. However, I underestimated his movement and assumed he would be slow enough for an opening to shine.
He swung downwards, hitting nothing but dirt. Pebbles jolted up from the shaking ground. With such power, one hit could be the end of me.
I kept my distance. Normally, I would be all up into my opponent. For some reason, I couldn’t do that against him. No, it’s not that I couldn’t. It was that I didn’t want to. Was I scared of being hit? No. I’ve been hit countless times. His strength and speed? No. I could easily match his speed, but his strength was a different story. But I wasn’t scared of his strength.
My gut was telling me something. I didn’t know what, but something felt off.
He brought his sword across his body and sliced diagonally. I narrowly slid underneath, maintaining a bit more distance.
I turned around and saw the impossible.
The nearby tree toppled onto the ground, individual branches with it—its thick trunk sliced like butter.
Impossible. How could someone slice a tree trunk like that? Was he indeed a mythical beast?
He turned around, and I saw something familiar. Something I thought no other person in the world had.
Something otherworldly.
“Y—Your eyes. They’re red.” Both of them were.
“Yes, they are,” he replied. “Amazing, isn’t it? When I started, I had the power of God; I wasn’t lying. I’m surprised, though. I only took less than ten swings, but you are still alive. Am I not fast enough even with my power?”
I gulped a rock. I tightly held my dagger close to my chest. As I stood there, witnessing the scene unfold before me, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was a genuine mix of amusement and utter confusion. I glanced around, seeking some explanation, but the answers remained elusive. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it at all.
“Wh—What’s so funny?” He asked, loosening up his stance.
This was amazing. It was a chance to fight for equality, a chance to really prove my worth. I was ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself.
I ripped off my eye patch and threw it in the air.
Diego’s mouth dropped as he took a few steps back. “A one eye?”
“Unlike yours, only one of my eyes is red. Why is that? Oh, I wonder. Either way, regardless of the explanation, this is amazing. I can finally fight someone qualified without it being a snooze fest.”
He dropped his sword, his face still in shock.
“Where—Where did you—How did you get your hands on the serum?”
“I don’t know. I went to the House with Answers and had something injected in my leg. Not quite sure. Why? Are you terrified of an equal?”
“No. The opposite. I’m actually concerned. Considering you only have one eye, is there something in your head? Like a voice of some sort?”
I wasn’t sure where he got the idea of a voice, but he wasn’t wrong.
“Yes. There’s a voice within that grants me power for every fight. Depending on the intensity and the amount of times I use it, it grows stronger and stronger.”
“The voice…” he muttered, though it was still loud for me to hear. “Do you perhaps have trouble sleeping?”
I nodded. “I have my days.”
“Increase in aggression? Not wanting to do anything? Loss of appetite? Loss of smell or taste? Do you have any of these?” His voice mimicked genuine concern. It didn’t feel as though he was an enemy.
“My problem doesn’t concern—”
“You are right. It doesn’t. But I must inform you of the state of your body. It’s the least I can do before you die.”
“Heh, I’m not going to die before my dream is fulfilled.”
“Enough about your dream. This is far greater,” he said with a stern voice. “Even in the slightest chance you survive against me, you won’t have enough time left. The truth is, your consciousness is slowly dying.”
I chuckled, not taking him seriously. “My consciousness? Meaning?”
“The voice inside is nicknamed ‘RT-19’. It’s a dangerous weapon with a mind of its own. It is designed to enter the host and slowly eat away its consciousness. Once the host’s consciousness is gone, RT-19 takes control of the body with its own consciousness. Essentially, a different mind is controlling your body. Your mind is dead while your body lives. RT-19 seeks strength from the interaction. The more you interact with it, the stronger its consciousness gets while your consciousness diminishes. So, to put it in perspective, you are slowly being eaten away from the inside.”
I didn’t take this seriously, scoffing at his long-running words. “Am I supposed to believe that nonsense when you literally have almost the same thing? Instead of one eye, both eyes are red. Does that mean this RT—whatever took control of your body?”
“No,” he said. “Your situation is different. To make life easier, I’ll backtrack for you. I already explained what the RT-19 serum does. You don’t have to believe my words. I’m not speaking as an enemy but rather as an educator. The RT-19 serum injects something with great power that wields a consciousness. What if I told you another serum goes along with RT-19 and kills its consciousness? Well, there is. PAIR-12 is the name of that serum. It kills RT-19 consciousness and allows its full potential to be released without any side effects. You have RT-19 but don’t have PAIR-12. You don’t have the serum that goes in and kills the unwanted consciousness.”
I swung my dagger at thin air, letting out a frustrated growl. “And you do? How do you even know all of this?! Where did you get this PAIR serum? Where did you even get the other one to begin with? You’re saying a lot of something, but it all leads to nothing!”
He took a few steps closer, leaving his sword behind. His intentions weren’t to harm me, but I was still on guard with my dagger held close.
“Because I’ve worked on the creation of the serum.”
My hands slowly dropped. “Meaning…?”
“I’m a former scientist who assisted with creating the RT-19 serum. It’s designed to be injected into SCAR agents to increase their overall abilities. We created this weapon and added a consciousness to better assist SCAR agents in potential battles. We thought the relationship between the host and RT-19 would be symbiotic. We were dead wrong. When doing testing on prisoners, we observed them losing their minds, killing each other, and repeating gibberish. They were going mental. When doing deeper testing, we’ve concluded that RT-19 ate the host’s consciousness, taking control of their bodies. That’s when we scrambled to make an antidote. But instead of creating a full antidote, I proposed that we should separate RT-19’s consciousness from its power and kill its mind. That way, the host can willingly use its power without having something in the back of their head. Hence, PAIR-12 was created, and everything went fine after that… for the most part. I was shortly exiled after for wanting this power myself. Only SCAR agents were allowed to consume the serum… oh well. Ionia is basically a mess, so my exile doesn’t matter to me.”
I crumpled to the ground, palms squishing my ears. I curled into a ball, grabbed the nearby bits of hair, and squeezed—different emotions scattered through my head.
Hate, anger, denial, betrayed, puzzled, shocked—it was impossible to grasp them into a singular word.
What I felt wasn’t an emotion. It was something more. A tidal wave of pain crashed within me. A sharp pain in my chest as though I’d been stabbed. I felt as though something violent boiled within.
“Jill, Jill, Jill. How terrible this must be. To find out the truth like this. Pitiful.”
Thingy…!
“You knew… didn’t you?” I forebodingly whispered to the thingy.
“I did exactly what I was created to do. You just happened to be my host. It’s a shame it had to be revealed like this. Your anger and hatred are almost through the breaking point. When that happens, I’ll gain temporary control. Who knows, I might be able to gain permanent control.”
“Shut up…”
“You’re a tricky one. Usually, the mind would’ve faded by now. Could it be that I didn’t perform my task well, or is your desire to live outweigh my desire.”
“Shut up.”
“Y’know, I have a desire of my own. It isn’t outlandish like yours. It’s simple. I wish to take control of this body. I don’t want to view life under the water's surface. I want to live my own life. If that means taking away yours from the inside, then so be it.”
“Shut. The. Hell. Up.”
“Don’t worry, Jill. Your life is surrounded by anger and hatred. Everything you know revolves around death and violence. It’s only a matter of time before your mind fades away. It can be today, tomorrow, next month, or year. Maybe even ten years. Your body will be mine.”
“I said shut the hell up!”
I slammed the ground, picking up my dagger. In the depths of despair, an agonizing sheik escaped my lips. Each breath echoed anguish. I hit my head with my own fist.
“Get out of me! Get out of me, you bastard!”
I damaged myself more than my opponent damaged me. I wanted to dig into my soul and rip the leech out.
All this time… I was being used. Its power was never meant to help me. It was just a distraction.
“Let me feel your anger.”
“Shut up!”
“You see that man? He helped create me. He’s the real reason your mind is slowly vanishing.”
“Go away!”
“He’s the reason why your dream—-your promise will end short!”
“Noooo!!” I punched the ground multiple times before I got up. I swung myself, unable to plant my feet to the ground. It was like I had too much to drink.
“Were you speaking to it? The voice.” Diego asked.
“All this time…I thought…heh…whatever. Whatever. I’ll sort all that stuff later. What matters now is killing you. I’ll ask for its power one last time and never use it again. I’ll never acknowledge its existence ever again.”