Bad Moon Rising. (Male Reader Insert)

Chapter 8: Kill The Silence

I couldn't help but ponder my current situation as I sat in the wheelchair, my legs immobile and throbbing with persistent pain. It had been a week, or perhaps more, since that fateful night when I faced off against Raoul Bushman. A battle that left me crippled and changed, both physically and mentally.

Yet, what troubled me even more than my physical condition was the continued silence of Khonshu, the god who had granted me a second chance at life. In the past, his presence had been a constant presence in my mind, guiding me, empowering me. But now, in my time of need, he remained eerily silent.

The opium, with its seductive promise of relief, had become my constant companion. It dulled the pain in my legs, allowing me to bear the agony that came with every movement. The relief it brought was like a fleeting moment of bliss in an otherwise bleak existence.

I couldn't help but wonder why Khonshu had abandoned me in my time of need. Was this a test of my resolve, a trial to prove my worthiness? Or had I somehow fallen from his favour? The questions gnawed at my mind, leaving me feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

As the days dragged on, I found myself sinking deeper into a pit of despair. The victory over Bushman had felt hollow, and the emptiness that gnawed at my soul seemed to grow with each passing moment. I had faced countless challenges and emerged victorious, but now, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was truly alone.

The opium offered temporary respite from the pain, but it couldn't fill the void that had taken root in my heart. I longed for the guidance of Khonshu, for a sign that I was not abandoned, that my purpose still held meaning.

But as the days turned into nights, I remained locked in my silent room, a prisoner of my own thoughts and doubts. And in the darkness, I couldn't help but wonder if I had truly lost the connection to the god who had once been my guiding light.

As Leone wheeled me into the conference room, the somber atmosphere was palpable. Najenda wasted no time in delivering a series of grim updates, each one casting a darker shadow over our already perilous situation.

"Everyone's here, good. First: I can no longer contact the local team!" Najenda's words hit the room like a thunderclap. Confusion reigned briefly until Akame clarified that there was a separate team responsible for missions other than assassinations. It was a stark reminder of the secrecy and compartmentalization that shrouded our operations.

"Secondly: Esdeath has finished conquering the north. And she has returned to the capital." The news of Esdeath's swift and brutal conquest of the north sent shivers down my spine. It was a testament to her formidable power and the urgency of our mission.

The third piece of news was equally unsettling. Reports of murders in the capital, with the perpetrators claiming to be the Night Raid, raised the specter of a sinister plot to discredit us. The prime minister's hand was becoming increasingly evident in the web of deception and manipulation that surrounded us.

"And lastly, Taskmaster is on the hunt in the capital!" Najenda's announcement hung in the air like an ominous cloud. The name 'Taskmaster' didn't inspire confidence, and the gravity of the situation was reflected in the serious expressions of my comrades.

"What kind of name is Taskmaster?" I couldn't help but voice my curiosity.

Bulat, never one to pass up an opportunity for banter, retorted, "What kind of name is Moon Knight?"

I chuckled weakly at his response but pressed on, my concern unabated. "Touche, but who is he?" My unease deepened as I contemplated the new threat that loomed on the horizon, wondering just what manner of adversary Taskmaster would prove to be.

Najenda, with a grave expression, took a moment to explain the enigmatic figure known as Taskmaster to both Tatsumi and me. Her voice carried the weight of experience as she delved into the details.

"Taskmaster is a formidable assassin and combatant," she began, her gaze steady. "He's known for his ability to mimic the fighting styles and techniques of his opponents, making him an incredibly versatile and unpredictable adversary. He can replicate any move he's seen with uncanny precision."

Tatsumi's eyes widened in comprehension, while I absorbed this information with a sense of foreboding. It was becoming increasingly clear that Taskmaster posed a unique and dangerous threat.

"All he needs is one look at you and he knows your entire fighting style. He's not known to use a Teigu but regardless, he's a formidable opponent."

As Najenda's explanation sank in, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

"I remember him back in the army. He was one of the toughest ones there. There wasn't a single person who could beat him." Said Bulat.

"So what do we do if we encounter him?" Tatsumi asked.

"Go the opposite direction. He'll know your every move."

The meeting turned to a discussion about what they were going to do about the imposter. However, my mind was somewhere else.

"Did you hear that, (F/N)?"

I focused on Najenda again. "What?"

"I asked if you know when you'll be back on your feet."

I shook my head. "I don't know, Najenda. I truly don't."

"Why not ask your so-called god of yours to heal you?" Mine asked me.

"Khonshu's gone silent. He's been like this since I killed Bushman."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of my words hanging heavily in the air. My confession about Khonshu's silence seemed to cast a somber mood over the group. It was a stark reminder that even in my role as Moon Knight, I was not immune to the uncertainties and limitations of my own existence.

Najenda, her expression filled with understanding, nodded solemnly. "I see. That's a tough situation."

Tatsumi, ever empathetic, offered his support. "We'll get through this together, (F/N)."

I managed a grateful but resigned smile. "Thanks, Tatsumi. I appreciate that."

As the conversation shifted back to discussing the impending threat of Taskmaster and the other challenges we faced, I couldn't help but wonder when, or if, I would ever hear Khonshu's voice again.

In the solitude of my room, I wheeled myself to a stop in front of the Khonshu statue. The dim light cast eerie shadows across the room, giving the statue an almost lifelike presence. I stayed there as the day rolled by.

"Why have you gone silent, Khonshu?" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. The room remained as still as the night outside. I had grown accustomed to the presence of the god in my life, his guidance, his demands, and his power. But now, that guiding voice had abandoned me.

My gaze remained fixed on the statue, as if expecting it to come to life and offer an answer. But there was only silence, a silence that felt deeper and more profound than any I had experienced before.

"I need you," I whispered to the unyielding statue. "More than ever."

Yet, the statue remained unmoved, and the room echoed with a haunting emptiness that matched the hollowness I felt inside.