NOVEL NEXT Chapter 52: Narration
The shimmer of the glass prison vanished in an instant. The air no longer carried the sharp sting of razor shards. Zakar stood frozen, his body still tense from battle, eyes locked on the figure before him.
The transformation was so sudden it nearly left him breathless. The frail old man had melted away, the hunched spine straightening, the withered limbs filling with strength. What remained was not a man at all, but a woman tall, and elegant, radiating power .
Zakar's mouth opened slightly. "…Carene?"
She turned her gaze to him, the faintest smile touching her lips. "Yah. Surprised? My system allows me to cline into something but not purely perfect."
Atelon staggered back, clutching his ribs where her fist had struck him. His face twisted with frustration and fear. "You…! You vanished from the Wasteland decades ago. Everyone thought you were dead. To think you'd show yourself here, protecting some cursed brat!"
Carene didn't even glance at him. She lifted her hand lazily. A pulse of energy rippled through the air, and a crack opened beside her a rift, glowing faintly like a tear between worlds. Its edges flickered with colors Zakar couldn't place, neither light nor shadow, but something deeper.
She turned to him fully this time. "Zakar let's go. We've got a lot to discuss."
Zakar blinked, then glanced between her and Atelon. The General's rage boiled, his aura glowing and reflecting upon the shattered glass. If he stayed here, Atelon would throw everything at him again. And unlike before, he doubted he could survive it.
He didn't need to be told twice. With one last glance at Atelon who looked as though he would lunge any second Zakar stepped forward and into the rift.
The sensation wasn't like moving through normal space. It was colder, heavier, as though the world itself had narrowed into a tunnel of infinite length.
Then, just as suddenly, his feet found solid ground.
He stumbled forward, catching himself with a curse. His lungs drew in air with a faint metallic tang. When his vision cleared, he saw that he stood in a room unlike where he was when Kyara had taken him.
It wasn't grand like the Generals' castle, nor was it plain like the player dorms. It was… lived-in. Comfortable. A round chamber with low lanterns glowing along the walls, their flames burning without smoke. The air was warm, almost soothing. A long table sat in the center, scattered with maps, books, and odd trinkets.
Zakar turned slowly, still steadying himself. Carene stepped through the rift behind him. With a small gesture, she sealed it shut, the tear in reality vanishing like it had never been.
"Where the hell…?" Zakar began, but his words died as another figure entered the chamber.
Kyara stepped out of no where. Her boots clinking to the ground and echoing lightly. Zakar turned to stare at her and their eyes locked for what seemed to be eternity.
"Kyara," Carene said simply.
"Kenry isn't here." Zakar said as he looked around to find him in the room.
Kyara's gaze softened briefly, though it remained cautious. "He left earlier. Said he had to confirm something with his contacts. He'll be gone for a while." Her eyes flicked back to Zakar. "That gives us some time."
Zakar exhaled slowly, finally finding his voice. "Alright. Then I'll make it quick." He walked closer to the table, his hand brushing against its wooden edge.
He wasn't good at formalities. He never had been. But he knew this was his chance to put things on the table to explain, to figure out what the hell was happening.
He began carefully. "My… roommate. He tried to kill me. It wasn't random. He was determined enough to go through with it. He said something about being forced. Before I could figure out what was going on, a man calling himself Caslurk appeared. And then…" He paused, tightening his fists.
"Then General Lemon arrived. We fought a little and we were tried under the Twenty Generals although only Eighteen of them."
Kyara's expression didn't shift much, but her eyes flickered a subtle sign of processing. Carene, however, stood perfectly still, arms folded, her attention sharp.
Zakar went on, his words steady but carrying weight. "The one you saved me from back there wasn't just some crazy bastard. He was General Atelon. One of the Twenty Generals."
This time, Carene reacted. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a faint sigh escaping her lips.
"I know," she said.
Zakar blinked. "You… know him?"
"Yes." Her voice was calm, but beneath it ran a current of something heavier. "Atelon wasn't just a General. He was once my teammate."
The silence that followed was thick. Zakar's mind buzzed with questions. Teammate? Carene this woman who had just beaten Atelon with a single blow?! Was she really an S rank?
The words reached his lips before he could stop them. "Teammate? What the hell do you mean—"
He cut himself off. Something in Carene's eyes warned him not to push further. They weren't hostile, but they held the kind of depth that told him: Not now. Not yet. Push further and I'll kill you.
Instead, he looked away, muttering, "Tch. Fine."
Kyara had been silent through most of this, but now she lifted her hand, brushing back a strand of hair. Her expression was thoughtful, her voice measured.
"This is a lot. Too much, too fast." She turned slightly, walking toward one of the lanterns. Its light reflected in her eyes. "I need time to think."
The room settled into silence once more. Zakar stood still, his thoughts colliding.
'What kind of past do these people have? And why the hell am I always at the center of this storm? Did I make the right choice following them? Gosh! I hope Sera and Myia are save. Even Justin. I want ya back together.'
"Fine. I guess I have to say this but an agent of the Negative Entity approached me. They took away my remaining teammates. I have to save them but their offer is for me to kill Justin, my other teammate. What should—" he was interrupted.
"That's it!! I got it!!" Kyara thundered a bit excited.
"Got what?"