Of Everlasting End

30 | ghost; revenge fulfilled

Rays of pure white light burst through the darkness, rendering everybody blinded for several moments.

Lucas squinted, grasping blindly at the air as he vaguely made out the figure of the Spade King scrambling on the floor, having been knocked backwards by the sudden brightness.

It was an excruciating heat, at first, seeming to sear into Lucas' skin, down to the bone. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting, boiled alive.

Then, a coolness washed over his body, vividly contrasting his previous feeling.

A layer of film draped over him, shielding him from the sheer physical force of the pain, though he could still feel the heat as if his limbs were dunked in boiling water, skin bubbling and burning.

The light and blast of smoke that had clogged up the room slowly dispersed through the shattered windows, and a single glowing figure curled up in the middle.

Lucas could hear the shouts of alarm coming from outside, barely make out the shadows running out of the building from his dizzy sight.

Nora, Wren and Rome hopefully escaped as well, likely aiding in luring the others outside to leave him with the Spade King—and the unfortunate victims that had been killed, mutilated and left to bleed.

His mind wasn't working properly.

Elias.

Where was that fool?

He should've been harmed by the incident—Lucas wasn't sure what protected him from the brunt of the damages, but it couldn't be guaranteed that Elias had been saved as well.

Though that boss of his was a stubborn, undying mule; a persistent weed that couldn't be killed.

He stumbled forward, towards the curled up figure in the center.

Glancing at his side, the Spade King trembled with broils on his skin, black, blistering arms that looked like charcoal. He shook violently, the terrible glare still in his gaze.

Lucas paused, commenting matter-of-factually, "You don't look great."

"....."

"Having a bad day?"

August glared viscously at him, as if he wanted to lunge out and strangle the other to death. Lucas remained indifferent, turning away.

Wren would be the one to deal with that chunk of burnt meat—if he lived for that long. However, thinking that it was August, a tenacious man who sacrificed and survived despite all troubles, he'd probably live long enough.

Long enough for that woman to decide his fate.

Lucas bent down on one knee when arriving at the center of the explosion.

A boy curled up on the ground, hair devoid of any colour and eyes pressed shut. Dressed in pure white clothes, seeming to be an otherworldly being.

In a fantasy story, perhaps he would be akin to a fairy or an elf.

Lucas examined his features, frowning. There was something a little familiar about the way his face was shaped, the innocent and soft raise of his eyebrows, and the lips that naturally curled upward.

Not quite the appearance, but the general atmosphere the boy radiated reminded Lucas of somebody.

Then the boy blinked.

Lucas jumped back in surprise, wrenching up a piece of debris sharpened at the edge. He lifted his arm, narrowing his gaze.

"...master?" a soft voice called out.