Chapter 107: Twilight of the Gods
He needed to look at himself more than once, refusing to believe that the one who appeared in the reflection was him. He was very different from how his appearance had been during his life.
"It could be worse." He said in a low voice, while observing his teeth. Two small sharp points peeked out.
It was properly the appearance of a traditional vampire, according to what he understood.
An extremely handsome man of decelerated aging, of skin pale as snow and sharp teeth capable of piercing metal.
And, of course, a gallant capable of conquering any woman.
"I should go to sleep again." He murmured tired, practically defeated by the circumstances that were far from his control.
His hair had suddenly changed overnight, losing in large part its previous characteristic black hair, obtaining a head of hair that mixed the white-haired with the black-haired.
As strange as it may seem, each time he resembled even more his avatar. A similar resemblance that was becoming tangible.
With the shoulders heavy from uncertainty, he returned to his apartment. Silently he remained on his bed, debating the reality of the facts.
"Should it be this way for many?" He murmured while the neural helmet rested under his arms.
He really did not understand when the boom of the video game had begun. Suddenly, in all the zones of the city, a name was publicized with dizzying force, enveloping the tired people in its contagious energy.
Suddenly it had become a great sale. Practically it occupied all the shop windows of the main stores in the central zones of Neo-Atlas Inferior.
"Any normal person would throw this helmet as scrap... But I cannot do it." He said amused, remembering how many times he had had the same thought. Discarding the neural helmet in the toxic waste sounded good in theory.
Only in theory.
"I am already forgetting how the exterior air feels," He said thoughtfully, while the external smell managed to infiltrate through his window. "Right, like shit."
He quickly connected to The Heaven Above All. The old and defective helmet rested on his head, squeezing him in a soft embrace.
But it was not maternal, it was robotic and free of emotions. An embrace that slowly closed like a rope before him.
The vivid colors that belonged to the classic atmosphere and ambiance of the video game received him.
A rich and abundant range of colors, that differentiated itself before his monochromatic and detestable reality.
"I must quickly find Edward." He said murmuring, with the expectation shining in his eyes. He had made so many discoveries that only the erudition, typical of Edward, could grant him a lamp in the darkness.
The inn was occupied by its regular clients. Expressive in its unique mode, with typical occurrences of that class of establishment. He ordered a simple breakfast and enjoyed it before finally going out to the street.
Bérsaic was glacial as always. A fortress constructed to survive. With high walls and seasoned soldiers patrolling.
With slow step, he mixed among the crowd. Opening the notifications that shone with a great red point in his interface.
In their greater part they were common notifications to which he was already accustomed. But there were also messages from Bella.
The only one capable of sending him messages at that moment was she. There were three in total.
[Do not forget our pact. You still have the most valuable objects of the dungeon]
And two consecutive messages that repeated the same words.
[Did you enter the ruin?]
[Did you enter the ruin?]
He almost struck his head, blaming himself for having forgotten such a simple thing. He still had in his possession the objects that they had decided to share at another moment.
He answered her messages rapidly, while he ventured through the streets and the pedestrians, noisy players and NPCs that fulfilled their functions.
[I did not forget it. I was busy]
And to finalize the exchange, he responded a simple:
[Yes]
There was no kind of lie or long response. He simply answered her interrogatives saving valuable time.
Without more messages to answer, he closed the interface and concentrated on his path. Dodging the possible swindlers that promised a unique opportunity in life.
Without interruptions, he managed to arrive rapidly until his destination. The small shop of alchemy and healing, with a nearly broken sign that hung written on it: "Open."
When he entered, behind him the little bell resonated. But not even that managed to awaken the idle old man who slept a nap on the counter, with the saliva hanging from his beard.
"Damned old man." Said Gabriel upon seeing the typical scene.
He had seen the old man’s drool so many times, that he had grown tired.
"Senile! Wake up!" He said increasing the tone of his voice, while he reviewed the diverse alchemical objects on the shelves.
"What have you said, disrespectful brat?!"
"I have said that you are in a senile age, old man."
With slow movements, Edward palpated his temple. He had awakened violently from his nap after hearing how they insulted his youth and manly vigor.
"For your information... Ah, you are the dumb boy." Said Edward, finally recognizing the presence that without a degree of tact had awakened him.
Gabriel simply nodded, returning to his task of recognition of the objects on the shelves. Without a doubt the alchemist was a very special NPC, with very rare alchemical potions.
"You always come and never buy anything." Said Edward, observing how his precious ones were outraged by some ignorant hands.
"This bottle to protect oneself from the fire costs 2 gold coins. Your shop is too expensive to belong to a desolate street."
"What do you know?! You would survive even if you descended to the infernal flames of Hades."
"In Hades? What is that?" Asked Gabriel, lightly intrigued.
"My error. In Hades there exist no flames. Where was it?" the old man began to digress undressing his internal thoughts.
He rapidly lost interest in his digressions. Edward fulfilled to perfection the archetype of a crazy old man. Half truth and half lie.
"Have you heard about the ruins out there?" Said Gabriel, totally changing the atmosphere in the room.
The mist of confusion that began to enclose Edward’s eyes disappeared by magic.
"The Twilight of the Gods." He murmured with the voice converted into a distant echo of buried memories.
"It has begun."
Directed by invisible threads, he got up and lost himself in the rear part of his shop. As if he had totally lost control over his thoughts.
Or he had entered into a state of shock.
In front of Gabriel an invitation opened.
The invitation to the most deeply buried secrets of the history and the chaos that would open like a worn and deteriorated key, on the part of a crazy old alchemist.