55. FU
Markus activated [Fuck You].
What kind of skill was [Fuck You], you might ask?
It's the kind of skill that fucks things.
Not in the literal sense. More figurative.
Well, kind of in the literal sense.
Markus' power began to spill out of the edge of his blade in an irridescent beam that pierced the worm, before splitting as if it had struck a mirror.
It then split once more, and again and again and again, splitting dozens, hundreds of times as Markus repeatedly, maniacally slashed his crimson signature into the body and face of this horrific monstrosity, until every ounce of power that leaked from him had been gathered up and forced into his attacks, until his final blow, a single slash, ignited every last line of mana he'd lacerated the worm with and set it ablaze.
The creature burned and withered, screamed and retracted, its body burning with holy energy, bleeding mana, dying even as it fell…
Only, it wasn't his final blow. Markus wasn't done. With a bestial scream, he resumed his attacks, brutalising the creature, destroying its body, obliterating every ounce of flesh and sinew within his reach, his actions beyond being halted, beyond reigning in, beyond rationality.
This wasn't catharsis; this was an utter and total rejection of the world he'd been placed in, of the trials he'd faced, of the obstacles that had tried to break him and even of the things that had made him grow.
All of it lost meaning within this moment. This single, unrelenting, unending moment of carnage. A moment that Markus wished to see end as much as he wished to perpetuate it. A moment of hurt and struggle and hate, endlessly clashing against one another and blotting out anything else entirely.
It was a time where reality bled into the superficial, where the deepest of emotions became manifest, where light destroyed darkness and darkness destroyed light, and where even Markus' sense of self was snuffed out by pure, righteous retribution that pushed far beyond reason.
Each slash was another declaration of defiance. Each thrust another attempt to scoop more from a well that had long since dried out. Every attack told a truth. Every attack told a lie.
Markus attacked until his body went numb. Until the creature was long dead. Until its core was devoured entirely and affixed to his soul.
Until he'd fallen to the floor, fitful, spasmic.
Even then, he attempted to stand. To finish the thing.
He needed to kill it. He needed to dig deeper. He needed to. He needed to. He needed—
Markus felt a touch against the back of his neck.
Her hand was soft.
It calmed him.
He felt mana asking to be lifted from his body.
He allowed it.
It was… delicate.
It made his heart pump slower.
His body continued to convulse.
Even after a health potion was forced into his mouth, it continued.
"You're here to take him?" Markus heard a voice ask, Drathok's.
"I can't," Serena replied. He recognised her voice easily, even with his eyes closed. It was soft. It glowed in the black space of his mind. "You need to keep him safe. Randall will definitely come back for him."
"You would ask that of me?" Drathok replied. "I have obligations to fulfill, and I can't touch Randall. Keeping this arena intact is my only priority."
"You need to keep him safe," Serena repeated, her voice turning. "His contract is with you. His duty of care lies with you. If you let him die, then I will—"
She cut off with a short series of coughs. She sounded as if she'd spat up blood.
"You're not in a position to make demands of me," Drathok stated. "And I'm not in a position to fulfill them." A beat. "I need to tend to this place."
"Make a deal with me," Serena said.
"With you?" Drathok laughed. "I'm not in a position to bargain. My soul's not for sale."
"Something simpler. I'll repair this place. Tend to your wounded. Wipe memories where I can. Remove the stain of today, or at least most of it."
"You still have power to do all of that?"
"More than you'd think," Serena grumbled. "Less than I need. Enough that you shouldn't fuck with me."
"Then why would you not simply kill me and take him?"
"It doesn't serve me to do that."
Drathok considered her words for a moment, then sighed. "What do you want from me?"
"Lie to Elasar. Tell him Markus got through this intact. That he's still himself. That he didn't break. It'll give us time."
There was that name again. Markus wasn't quite conscious enough to parse everything being said, but he recognised that name. Where had he heard it before?
"Who is 'us'? What goal are we both working towards here?"
"A better world. Don't think about it too hard."
"..."
"Do we have a deal or not?"
"Fine. Please do your best."
Markus felt himself being pulled away not long after.
***
He awoke to water being splashed over his face.
He growled. He lunged in Drathok's direction. He clawed with his hands until he found himself trussed up in magical bindings. He struggled and pushed against them, even when it hurt.
"Markus!"
He heard a name. His name?
His name.
He blinked.
Drathok.
"Markus."
He growled once more, snarled.
"Markus, listen to me."
Markus spat at him.
"We've done this two times already. You need to calm down."
He needed to calm down?
Calm down?
"Fuck…"
"Yes, yes, I know. Fuck me."
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"FUCK YOU!"
It was the only thought that came into his mind. Hatred. Loathing. Disgust. Why was he here? What was he doing? What had he had to do to get through that fight? Where had he had to go?
Markus only felt spite. He only felt rage.
Something inside of him had snapped. Of that he was sure.
But that awareness changed nothing. Nothing. All of it was broken. None of it fucking mattered. This detestable fucking bag of meat before him deserved to be ripped apart, eviscerated, dismembered, burnt, flayed, skewered—
Markus felt his mana beginning to burn against his restraints. The harder he tried to push, the more it hurt.
Fuck hurt. Everything hurt down here.
"Markus… please."
The word gave him pause. He blinked. Sniffed the air. Growled lower.
"You're not yourself."
Markus tried, attempted so hard to avoid another bout of anger, or hysteria. He pushed against the enticing prospect within that tempted him to thrash and fight against his restraints until one of them wound up dead.
He looked at Drathok. Saw the same look within him he'd seen every time the demon had seemed to struggle, the crack in his usual self-assuredness.
He recognised it. It quelled him, if only for a moment. Enough that he returned to his seat, slumping, heart aching, mind ablaze.
"You have Toxicosis. That persistent pain you're feeling? It's coming from the poison in your body. Curing it isn't easy."
Markus barely was able to listen. He still just wanted to rip the cunt's throat out.
"I'm not sure what's made you so vitriolic, but I have some guesses. I need you to snap out of it, though."
Markus ignored him. Retreated in on himself. This guy was an asshole. A piece of shit. All he'd done was hurt him and caused him suffering. He should've ran while he had the chance, killed him while he was overcharged, not left himself defenseless like this once again, not—
"You saved my life," Drathok said, his voice cracking as he did so. "You saved a lot of people."
"Fuck you," Markus breathed in turn.
"There's every reason for you to be upset," Drathok said. "You've been through so much turmoil. It's only fitting that you'd feel—"
"Fuck you."
"Fine!" Drathok stood, wiped his hands against one another. "I'm clearly not fit to handle this. Rika?" He tutted. "Bring her in, will you?"
Another figure shuffled into the small chamber they were in, shadowed by two guards, who immediately left after.
Markus' eyes snapped to her.
Friend.
What the fuck was she doing here.
Why was she with him?
What the fuck was—
***
"Rika. I understand you met Markus over a week ago. In that time you became close."
"Yeah…" Rika's eyes darted between the demon and Markus. "We already talked about that."
"I know we did," Drathok said. "I'm simply saying so for his benefit. Markus is having a bit of a difficult time right now, I'm hoping you can help him."
"Right…"
Rika's tail twitched, her fur bristled. Looking at Markus was like looking at a rabid animal. His eyes bounced between Drathok and her like those of a dishevelled maniac, and he continually trembled in place where he sat.
"What did you do to him?" Rika asked.
"You mean to imply this was my doing?"
She turned to him, narrowed her eyes. "Well, yes. You brought him here. Surely whatever happened to him was down to you."
"Do you realise how utterly dispensible you are, who you're speaking to?" Drathok snarled.
"Don't be immature," Rika said, ear twitching. "You brought me here because you wanted me to help him, right?"
"Obviously…"
"So tell me what I can do instead of threatening me. If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead."
"Where do you get off speaking to me in such a manner? You're a common labourer!"
Rika rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna tell me what's up with him, or are we gonna stand here all day worrying about your ego?"
"Tch…" Drathok breathed.
Rika couldn't help herself. She was worried about Markus. Whether she had a choice in assisting Drathok here or not, she'd likely do it anyways. She'd basically signed her death warrant the moment she'd stuck her lot in with Markus regardless. All that cryptic bullshit about Markus 'being dangerous' was clearly meant to mean someone like this might decide to kill her.
Well whatever. Markus looked more dangerous than Drathok right now, honestly, and he was her main concern. There was a good chance if she couldn't help him, Drathok might punish her for that anyways.
"He snapped during his last bout. Maybe it was the trial he went through. Maybe it was the mana cannon. Maybe it's the Toxicosis. It could be a whole lot of things."
"Mana… cannon?.."
"Don't worry about it," Drathok tutted, shaking his head. "The point is, his brain is scrambled. He needs someone to bring him back down to reality before his next fight. I was hoping you could do that."
"Hold on…" Rika stared at him like he was utterly nuts. "You plan to send him back out there in this condition? He's had a freaking mental break! What's wrong with you?"
"I have to enforce his contract," Drathok sighed. "I have no choice in the matter."
"Well, why not? Don't you think it's cruel enough that you kidnapped him and put him through all this already? Why does he have to fight again?"
"Because he does!" Drathok shouted, his eyes glowing red, knocking the aggression out of Rika's tone, stopping her in her tracks.
"I'm done speaking to you. Help him if you can."
With that, Drathok marched to the corner of the room and took a seat.
Markus continued to push and thrash against his restraints.
Rika looked back at Drathok. "Do you have to be here for this?"
"If he loses those restraints, he might murder you."
"..."
Rika sighed. She stepped forwards.
Was this what she'd envisioned when she'd met Markus? Looking at him now, growling, wild-eyed, jumpy, she knew that she'd never imagined she'd have to do something like this for him.
Her curiosity had kept her coming back at first.
But there was more to it than that.
When she'd met Markus, he'd seemed cool. Calm. Okay.
It didn't make sense to her. She'd balked under less pressure countless times in her life.
And there he was. Able to laugh and joke. Able to weather and get through the impossible situation he was in.
And what did he do when she made advances on him?
Taught him to read. It didn't make her feel rejected. Or unattractive. Or anything negative, really.
She felt honoured.
With everything he'd been through and was still going through to that very moment, there he'd been, taking the time out of his day to help her. The time he really didn't have, to help her useless self with something so trivial, with such a stupid, dumb, stupid plan.
Even when he'd pushed her away, despite how much it hurt, she could feel he was trying to be selfless.
Trying to go it alone. To brave all of this.
He shouldn't have to brave this alone.
He shouldn't.
Rika placed a hand upon Markus' arm.
He flinched, launched himself in her direction like a cornered dog, bashing against her forearm in an attempt to dislodge her.
That'd bruise. Ah well. She'd dealt with far worse than bruises.
"Markus."
He calmed a touch as her hold persisted. Enough that he looked at her. His eyes seemed to be searching her face. As if he wasn't sure whether or not she existed.
"Markus, what happened?"
"Fuck you."
It was all he said. It was a whisper.
"Markus, I know you can say more than that." She tried to be measured, calm, gentle. "Nobody wants to see you better more than I do."
"Fuck you," Markus repeated, lower, more gravel in his tone.
His body slumped. He didn't attempt to shake her off again.
"Markus, listen to me. Everything you've done since you met me, it's helped me more than you can imagine. You've been so good to me. You've never asked me for anything, really. And you've accepted me for everything I am. That means so much to me. I accept you for whoever you are, too."
Markus was silent for a time. Eventually, once more, he spoke those two simple words, pushed them out like they were the only ones he knew.
Rika squeezed his arm, lifted his chin. "You know what? Fuck the dainty girl routine. And fuck you too. You think you get to give up because this place fucking sucks? Because assholes like Drathok did a fucking number on you? Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you give up, and I'm not accepting that you're broken. You're way stronger than this."
Rika turned to Drathok.
"Take off his restraints."
"Why in hell would I do that?"
Rika's tail slammed against the floor. "Because if you're gonna treat someone like a monster, they're gonna fuckin' act like one. Take his damn chains off, and close the door behind you."
Drathok acquiesced with a click of his tongue. Markus' magical bindings fell away.
He felt hot. Like he was burning up.
"Hey," Rika said. "Hey, Markus. It's me."
"Fuck off," Markus shouted, glowing with energy, forcing Rika back a few inches, then further, wind pulsing from his body. He clutched his chest. "Leave me alone, okay? Just leave me here…"
"What did I tell you?" Drathok said. "He's a danger to you. He needs to be restrained. It's the only way you'll bring him in line!"
"I got past two words, didn't I?" Rika said, walking straight back over, wholly undettered by his outburst.
"Now to try and fix the mess you've made."