Marcus, before the final match…
The day was coming to an end as Nashandra’s knowledge of Death Magic was being firmly ingrained into him.
He had spent several hours training with her alone as he struggled even further with trying to get used to controlling Arcanence than he did with sparring with Camilla.
But eventually he learned how to incorporate it into his very being until his presence could dominate everything around him.
With the sun getting low, he said, “Alright. I think this will be enough. Let’s call it a day.”
Nashandra nodded as she stood up from where she had been sitting, watching his progression patiently, and bowed to him.
He still wasn’t used to being bowed to like that...it bothered him, but he wouldn’t tell them to stop.
He called for Azazel to help bring them back to their lodgings.
But then, a thought crosses his mind and he called out, “Hold on. Camilla, before you go, I want to talk with you.”
Azazel and Camilla looked at each other before the former nodded to her and she walked back to him.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked him and he shook his head no.
“I just wanted to ask you about your deal with me...or rather, my other self. Can you tell me more about that?”
“Uh...sure. What specifically do you want to know?”
“My other self had said that you would be put onto the path of reclaiming your kingdom if you served me, correct? Surely your own strength, or even that of Moyako’s would be enough to defeat all of your enemies with little effort. So why would my other self emphasize that I would put you on that path?”
Camilla’s eyes veered away from him in sheepishness as he asked that and said, “Well...um, I had originally joined the contest because Raum told me Moyako would enter it as well. I was hoping...that I could ask her to fight alongside me. I made a deal with her as well that if I defeated her in combat, that she would be by my side when the time came. Unfortunately...I was eliminated from the contest…”
“Due to a draw.”
“It still doesn’t count,” she said with a sigh.
“Hmm…” Marcus grumbled as he thought to himself before he met Camilla’s eyes and folded his arms.
“I have a proposal of my own, if you would hear it,” Marcus said, and her head jerked up to meet his eyes.
“Yes?”
“If I defeat Moyako tomorrow, I will support you in your effort to take back your kingdom,” he said, but she seemed a bit confused.
“Well, you already said as-,” she tried to say but he raised his hand to cut her off.
“No. My other self said he would put you on the path. I am saying this, me as Marcus Wright. I will fight alongside you, with my flesh and metal, to help take back your kingdom. So too, will the people of Forrosa fight with you,” he said firmly.
Her eyes widened and she could hardly manage to say a word as she replied, “I...truly, you’ll…you would really help me?”
“Yes. I will. But to win, I will need to hear your voice cheering me on to victory,” he said with a grin.
He then walked past her, gesturing with his hand, and said, “Come on. I will walk you back to your lodging rather than have Azazel teleport you back. I want you to tell me all the stories you have about Moyako while we walk.”
She let out a wide smile as she rushed over to him and said, “Gladly!”
She had already started recounting the first moment she remembered seeing Moyako as Marcus pondered why he had bothered to make such a promise to Camilla in the first place.
Sure, it was a good political move to ensure that Camilla would be loyal, but that didn’t feel like the actual reason to him.
He had said those words to her knowing they were the right things to say, but not fully understanding why he felt they were necessary.
Was it...his way of making another excuse for him to move on from his old life?
Another form of motivation to make him look towards the future in this world…?
Maybe he just wanted to force himself to have a deeper connection to this world to make it easier to forget what he left behind.
Yet even as his mind told him what he did was right, there was another part of him telling him that he was making the wrong choice.
There was a part of him that was practically screaming at him that what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out why.
He hoped that with the end of the final battle, everything would become clear.
When he returned home, he went into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping that it would help clear his head.
But as the warm water hit against his skin, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the feeling of bullets slamming into him, of nuclear fire crushing him from all sides, of flames of madness washing over him, of an ocean of blood parting around him.
The rush of battle had not left him since he had arrived in this world and it had only become more and more intense as more time passed.
It felt like his very appearance in this world was waking something within him. Something that he could not manage to see for himself. Yet at the same time, it was as if there were a muffle on his mind, stifling his thoughts, and he could not understand why.
There was some strange force acting on him, drawing out his base instincts to seek out this unknown force that wants to take advantage over him, but he did not know what it was.
While standing in the shower, he reached out his arms to brace himself and decided ask the Archdragon inside him for advice.
“Malthael...you are taking a place within me, alongside my soul. Could you...help me find some answers?”
The Archdragon was silent for over a minute before he he reappeared as a stone dragon the size of a small dog next to him in the shower.
“What is it you want?” he asked warily.
“You can feel the rush of battle I still hold within me, right? You can feel the same emotions I do, or at least pick up on them, right?” he asked.
Malthael’s head turned away from him as he said, “I can sense your emotions, yes. Why?”
“I don’t know why I feel on edge like this all the time. It feels like there is something or someone watching me all the time, with their knife at my throat,” he said, to which Malthael responded by clenching his claws into a fist, as if out of anxiety.
“Do you...know why I feel this way?”
Malthael stayed silent and just stared at him.
“Answer me,” Marcus said to him with a calm tone.
“I…I do know.”
Marcus swallowed out of nervousness and asked, “Can you tell me why?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Rather than answer him, Malthael vanished and returned back within him. Seeing the Archdragon run away like that, for whatever reason, terrified him.
If there was such a being that could make even the mighty Malthael fearful, then that terrified Marcus.
Coming to this realization made the muffled screaming within himself feel even louder, yet still he could not make out the words or the reason why.
He then stepped out of the shower, dried himself, and went over to the fogged up mirror.
Before wiping away the steam, he said, “Ender...its time you and I had a conversation.”
As soon as he wiped away the fog on the mirror, he was met with Ender looking back at him, still with the appearance of his old tactical gear and black grease pain over his eyes.
“Really? Now? Right as the final fight is right around the corner? You have shit timing,” Ender said to him as he folded his arms while he glared at him.
“I know, but…I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Why did you bother putting it off for so long to begin with?” Ender asked him as he appeared to be leaning against the bathroom wall in the reflection.
“Probably...because I was too afraid to accept you back then as a part of myself,” Marcus admitted.
Ender raises his eyebrows as if mildly impressed with his honesty.
“Is that so…well, what changed?”
Marcus let out a deep breath and said, “Everything…I think this world has changed me in ways that I hadn’t thought possible.”
“Yeah, I bet. Godhood’s a bitch ain’t it?”
“I’m sure you would know ALL about that, huh? Seeing as you are the source of my wrath,” Marcus said, but Ender glared at him.
“M-Me? You think...you think that I am the source? No idiot. All of that anger, all that rage, that bottomless cruelty? That’s still all you. I am simply the product of your inability to bear the weight of your own wrath. You were too frightened of your own anger that you split your soul apart to contain it for you,” Ender explained, maintaining his glare.
“You can’t really mean-”
“Marcus! I am you. No matter how much you want to separate yourself from me, to try and move on, even going as so far as to find a new girlfriend while abandoning your wife and daughter-”
Before Marcus could have the time to process what Ender had said to him, an ear splitting whine cut through him, causing him to clasp both hands over his ears and groan in agony.
It was so painful and so sudden that he could no longer manage to remain conscious and blacked out.
When Marcus came to, he found Selene standing over him, looking at him to see if he had been injured while a towel was put over his waist.
“Hey, hey! Marcus! Are you okay?” she asked in a concerned tone.
“Y-Yeah...I think I slipped,” he said, confused as to how he ended up like this.
“Nonsense. How could slipping knock you out so easily?” she said, irritated.
“Well...I don’t know how else I ended up on the ground,” he said, further confused as to why he didn’t remember how he ended up on the floor.
She helped him stand and yelped as soon as his towel started to slip away from his waist.
Luckily he grabbed it and held it over himself before she could so she didn’t get a handful.
“Sorry about that,” he said in an embarrassed tone.
“J-Just get dressed! Please!” she said, blushing so much he wondered if she would change color completely.
As she helped him stand, he noticed that Ender was still in the reflection looking at him.
He looked terrified.
“By the way...is that Ender?” Selene asked him, to which the both of them stared at her in amazement.
“You can see him?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, I can see him. He called out to me and I thought it was you speaking. But ever since I opened the door, he hasn’t said a word as to why you were on the floor,” she said, staring at Ender suspiciously.
“Don’t worry about it. I think I’m good. I’ll clean up and get dressed,” he said and she nodded as she turned around and quickly left the bathroom.
Marcus let out a deep sigh as he leaned forward on the bathroom sink.
“So...Ender, do you know what happened to me?”
“...yes.”
“Alright. Tell me.”
“No.”
Marcus jerked his head up to stare at Ender, who was still in the reflection and appeared just as anxious as Malthael was earlier.
“Fine. I’ll just deal with this myself,” Marcus said frustrated as he shook his head.
“I...I wish I could help, but-,” Ender tried to say but Marcus cut him off.
“You can help, and you will,” Marcus said.
“W-What? What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow, I face Moyako. I want you to give me everything you have. All that anger, all that cruelty you say is supposed to be my own, you’ll give it back to me so that I can win,” Marcus said firmly, which caused Ender to squirm.
“B-But what about Mo-”
“I don’t care what happens. She’s immortal. She’s a big girl. She’ll have to just deal with it. There is no version of tomorrow that will exist in which I don’t win, and you will help make sure of that,” Marcus said.
Ender let out a shuddered breath as he said, “Very well. If that’s what you want, I won’t stand in your way. But...promise me something Marcus.”
“What?”
“Don’t hurt her so much that she hates you for it. She may not mean much to you now...but she means everything to me,” he said, to which Marcus could not seem to understand.
His mouth hung open as he realized that even though Ender was a part of him, there were things that even he valued, separate from Marcus himself.
“Ender...you know that I don’t have any other choice but to win at any cost. I’ll try my best to drive her into a corner so that she’ll be forced to surrender, but I won’t promise anything,” he replied.
“But no matter what, you won’t allow yourself to lose to her, right?”
“Right.”
“Alright…then tomorrow, I’ll return all of your wrath to you.”