Chapter 50: Questionable Life Choices.
The clouds slowly gathered overhead as gentle snowflakes fell from the sky. One snowflake landed softly on Damien’s nose, rousing him from his stupor.
His blue eyes stared blankly at Priesty’s nose before once more closing.
"Pain was never a great teacher, although effective on stupid people, the caregiver didn’t really care though, at least not when I snuck out to see the older kids play, when I spaced out living in my own head, or when I accidentally broke a plate while doing the dishes. Pain taught me most of what I know.
And I hated it for that. I used to draw with my crayons, beautiful depictions of how I would fly away, find the woman that abandoned me, and I would say to her, please die.
I’m not stupid, pain taught me that. I know full well she wouldn’t want me, no one did, and perhaps no one ever will, so I keep hating my teacher, effective as they may be."
Priesty growled aggressively before coming to an abrupt stop. Damien grunted in pain as his broken body shifted across Priesty’s shoulder, the movement alone sending fresh waves of agony through what little he could still feel. Slowly, he forced his neck to turn.
Ahead of them stood the entrance to the human encampment. A small group of soldiers and support staff immediately rushed out the moment they spotted Priesty, only to come to a hesitant stop several meters away.
Everyone had seen the massive explosion that engulfed the advancing Eidolon army. The pillar of fire had been impossible to miss, and from that distance, they had all assumed every scout caught in the blast was dead. Yet somehow, Damien had survived. To them, that alone was enough to call it a victory.
The first man to arrive skidded to a halt, his eyes fixed on Priesty. His legs refused to carry him another step. Even as an undead under Damien’s control, the creature’s grotesque appearance was enough to make anyone hesitate. Before he could gather his courage, a young girl with traces of baby fat still clinging to her cheeks shoved him aside.
"Damien!"
Seris hurried forward without the slightest hesitation. She slipped an arm beneath Damien’s shoulders and tried to lift him away from Priesty, but the difference in weight was far greater than she expected. She barely managed two steps before both of them collapsed awkwardly onto the snow.
Only then did the others finally steady their nerves and rush over to help.
Together, they carefully lifted Damien’s broken body and carried him back toward the encampment. Seris’s hands glowed with a faint golden light as she activated her Dormant Ability. She already knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. But knowing that still wasn’t enough to stop her from trying.
Damien heard every voice around him.
Yet his mind remained trapped behind a prison of his own making. It had no iron bars, no locked doors, and no guards standing watch. Instead, countless men and women stood silently with blank, faceless expressions. In their hands, each of them held a mask with a different expression, as though they could simply choose whichever face they wished to wear.
For reasons Damien himself couldn’t explain.
The sight terrified him more than the ruins of humanity.
...
The sky eventually ran out of snow to throw down, but only after a day had passed.
Damien’s eyes remained closed. He heard the voices of people he didn’t know, and the voices of people he did know, especially Seris’s sobs, Chad’s brotherly support, and Yuri’s warm silence as she accompanied him for an untold number of nights.
They knew Damien wasn’t going to die, that already happened. But when you care about someone, you still do, even when you know they’re not in any danger. Damien never knew how that felt.
"I deserve all the good things in the world, call me obsessed, insane, or even delusional. But I know I’m just a man that knows what he wants, and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it."
The doors to Damien’s prison remained shut, but he finally looked up at the faceless people. They were still scary. But he knew who he was, and he didn’t belong with them, he was better, he was good, he was a man that knew what he wanted.
"I will not die a nobody."
Damien’s lips parted and the words echoed across the quiet tent. Damien’s eyes also opened. He still couldn’t really move, but at least he wasn’t trapped anymore.
"That’s good," a female voice suddenly said. "A man should strive to push himself to his absolute limit, and die knowing he’d accomplished everything he possibly could. My father used to say that... Of course, he wasn’t speaking to me, but I still remember the lesson."
Damien frowned darkly, turned his head and said coldly,
"Andrea... What are you doing here?"
Andrea allowed the silence to settle before she responded, ever calm and collected.
"Ain’t I allowed to worry about my people? You went on this mission under my orders, it was the least I could do after your glorious sacrifice to delay the advancing Eidolons."
Seeing Damien’s face go blank, Andrea continued.
"Oh, you haven’t heard. You’re a hero now, adored by the brainless masses, but honestly though, they will adore a rock if it could trip the feet of the Eidolon Chief. But regardless, you are well loved now, congratulations."
Damien was momentarily confused. He did not expect this at all. The least he expected was a mob carrying torches and pitchforks, cursing him for being a murderer, but instead he’s in a bed, a rather comfy bed at that.
"Don’t you want to know what happened while we were out there?"
Damien probed, but Andrea shook her head with a faint smile.
"Damien, I already know."
The moment she said that, Damien felt his shattered heart jump to his throat, but what she said next made him question his life choices.
"Leslie is dead. Unfortunately, her true body died in a fire, right here at camp, just two days after you guys left."