Bab 27: The Old Man
The slate-gray clouds, tinged with deep, stormy blue, wept relentlessly, their tears carving streams through the city. The blue sun was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the oppressive veil of rain. On the rooftops, exposed to the downpour, William sprinted forward, his movements nimble, his balance impeccable. Behind him, Elliot followed closely, each step a precarious dance across the slick tiles of the three-to-five-meter-high buildings. Don't look down, don't look down, Elliot chanted silently, his gaze fixed ahead.
Their pursuit of Joe Hillinger's trail had led them here, but every lead dissolved the moment they crossed paths with the Barber. Now, their progress felt like chasing shadows.
"Elliot," William called out, his voice cutting through the rhythm of raindrops against the rooftops. "I think we've done enough for today. Let's head back to the others."
Elliot nodded silently, glancing at William. The rain had darkened the latter's hair, plastering it across his forehead in uneven strands. With a shared understanding, they turned, retreating across the labyrinthine rooftops.
…
Inside the Rosenmahl estate, Aston sat in solitude, his thoughts spiraling into paranoia. His pale complexion and sweat-soaked hair were testaments to his crumbling composure. Three hours had passed since his last dose.
Can I take another now? No. Not yet. But… maybe just a little. Just half. I need it. Now. Right now.
Aston rose unsteadily to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. It's only because I don't feel well. This isn't the beginning of the transformation. It's just to steady my nerves. Just a bit more.
His hands, shaking uncontrollably, reached for the drawer. Beside it lay a vial of black blood—demonic blood. His fingers hovered over it, the temptation unbearable.
One drop won't hurt… right?
It was as if an unseen force controlled him, an insidious hunger gnawing at his insides. His breaths came in sharp gasps, sweat streaming down his pale cheeks. His heart hammered in his chest as his trembling fingers closed around the syringe.
One drop. Just one. And I'll become stronger—far stronger. One of the strongest in Zentria… no, in all of Elisia.
With the needle poised above a vein, its tip just grazing his skin, his lips moved wordlessly, mouthing promises of power.
Slap!
Aston reeled as his own hand struck his face, the sting snapping him out of his trance. Staggering back, he collapsed against his bed, his body convulsing in a fit of anger and self-loathing. His veins pulsed with blue blood, his eyes wild with fury.
You hypocritical fool! his mind roared. What good are power and strength if you turn into a monster to obtain them?
With a guttural yell, he kicked the side of the bed repeatedly, his body wracked with frustration. The room echoed with his fury as he fought the insidious desire within.
…
The rain eased to a drizzle as the evening deepened, the clouds shifting from gray to violet. Outside the Blue Sharks' headquarters, the storm's remnants dripped from rooftops and awnings, pooling in uneven cobblestone streets.
Inside the dimly lit reception room, four detectives and their assistant sat in various states of dampness. Two of them were soaked, their coats clinging uncomfortably, while the others remained dry.
"Did things seem… off to you?" Elton broke the silence, his voice tinged with unease. "When I checked the missing man's workplace, the entire place was deserted. It's as if everyone vanished into thin air."
William nodded grimly while Elliot, leaning against a wall, remained silent.
"It's strange," William added, his voice low. "At our end, it was the same. Hillinger's tracks just stopped—vanished. And tell me this: how does an ordinary worker scale a five-meter wall in mere seconds?"
The group exchanged puzzled glances. Elisia clapped her hands together suddenly, breaking the tension.
"Well," she declared, "there's not much we can do tonight with this rain. Let's call it a day. Go home—spend time with your families, wives, kids, or whatever else keeps you sane."
The others murmured their agreement, their weary expressions lightening as they prepared to leave. William, his usual grin creeping back onto his face, nudged Elliot with an elbow.
"Elliot, want to come over to my place?" he asked.
Elliot looked up, his expression softening slightly. "If I'm allowed, then sure."
William's grin widened as he clapped a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Of course you're allowed. Come on."
…
Not far from the Blue Sharks' agency, William and Elliot stood outside the door of a modest apartment. William knocked, and within moments, the door opened to reveal a woman of striking elegance. Despite her age, her dark blonde hair retained a youthful sheen, flowing down her shoulders in soft waves. She wore a flowing dress of black and blue, its simplicity accentuating her poise.
Her face lit up as she embraced William, showering him with kisses like an overjoyed mother welcoming her child home. "My little William," she cooed, her voice warm and melodious.
Turning her gaze to Elliot, her expression softened further. "And who might this young man be?"
Before Elliot could respond, she pulled him into a hug, her warmth catching him off guard. "Elliot… Elliot Starfall," he murmured quietly, his voice tinged with shyness as he accepted her embrace.
In that brief moment, Elliot felt a distant memory resurface—a warmth he hadn't felt in years.
"Elliot," she repeated, her voice savoring the name. "What a beautiful name. Come inside, both of you, before you catch your deaths in this weather. Oh, and William—your favorite stew is ready. I made sure to add extra Myso meat, just the way you like it."
William's eyes lit up momentarily before he cleared his throat, glancing at Elliot with a sheepish grin. "Thanks, Mama."
The apartment radiated warmth, its interior bathed in hues of brown, orange, and soft red. Oil lamps cast a golden glow over the modest furnishings, enhancing the cozy atmosphere.
William shrugged off his beige coat and hung it on a nearby hook, while Elliot, having left his own coat back at the agency, took a seat at the wooden dining table.
The woman, William's mother, brought out porcelain bowls filled with thick, aromatic stew. The hearty scent of herbs and spices mingled with the savory aroma of the Myso meat, its juices glistening under the lamplight.
Elliot took a tentative bite, the tender meat bursting with flavor as it melted in his mouth. Now I understand why William loves this so much.
Before he could lose himself in the meal, William spoke, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he smiled.
"Mama, Elliot is like you—a full red-blood. He's working with us now, as an assistant."
William's mother froze, her eyes widening with delight. Her golden hair bounced as she leapt to her feet, clasping her hands together.
"Really? A red-blood from Earth? Oh, Elliot, you must tell me—what was it like back there? Before… everything changed? The last thing I remember was the world shutting down during COVID, or something called TikTok. I was barely 20 when they took me here."
Elliot swallowed, hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "There's really nothing else major, except for a rather rapid improvement in robotics and general artificial intelligence. Conflicts were present, which could have led to a third war, but a peace emerged out of nowhere. The only issue was the scarcity of resources, which escalated exponentially. But other than that, nothing more."
William didn't quite grasp the magnitude of Elliot's words, but his mother's face lit up. "Elliot, you must think that this world would be a nightmare, and in a way, it is. But there are good sides to it too. My husband, William's father, was my owner, but he treated me like a human, as if I were his equal. And when he passed away, the enchantment that enslaved me was lifted. It hurt, the loss, but I still had my little boy with me. You must know this: where there is evil, there is also good. In the darkness, there is always somewhere, even if faint, a light burning—no matter how small, like the flickering flame of a candle."
She smiled at Elliot, and they continued their conversation, the meal before them now a comfort.
…
The day passed in a blur. The food sat heavily in Elliot's empty stomach, which had only been fed a single burger and some stale bread. "Thank you, William... No, thank all of you, Blue Sharks. Thank you, so much." Elliot walked under the starry sky, the golden moon shining brightly above him. His eyes glazed over as he gazed at the shimmering celestial body. A small smile crept onto his lips. Now it's time. The old man will tell me not just where Ren is, but the exact time too. Elliot smiled softly, rubbing his reddened eyes with his fingers. From here on, everything will be fine. From now on, it's all uphill. I just need to find Ren, then kill Edwin and Samantha, and I'll be free from my chains. I'll leave the Blue Sharks behind, but as long as my big brother is safe, I'd endure torture, even death, for it. Just be safe, Ren.
"Hey, little one?!" A familiar voice reached Elliot's ears. It was the old man, dressed in black robes, with a long cap and a hunched back.
"You've kept me waiting a long time. I only live as long as you do, hehe." The old man's laugh was raspy, and he cleared his throat, rubbing his hand over his crooked back. The old man stared into Elliot's eyes. "Relax a bit, kid. You're so stiff. Quite different from my little brother, hehe." His gaze never faltered, though his wrinkles and the downturn of his mouth spoke volumes. "Do you have the information about my brother?"
Elliot spoke directly, but his voice trembled, his body slightly shaking. "Actually, I know. I've found out where your brother will be, but it will be difficult. He'll be at AORB on the 17th of Astra, 1613, at precisely 16:20. He'll be at the intersection of Wellington and Fernen Streets. But you must hurry. He'll only be there for a brief moment. He's being hunted by powerful people, people who wish to use your brother as a sacrifice."
The old man's expression grew serious, and he looked up slightly, but continued walking, rubbing his back once more. "From that day on, we'll meet at this time every day, except for your brother's day, understood?"
Elliot nodded first, but then, with a faint smile, replied softly, "Understood."
…
Elliot returned, Edwin and Samantha ignoring him as always. He wore a wide, satisfied smile. His soaked clothes were nearly dry. He closed his eyes, and before long, he drifted into a dreamless sleep, only to awaken in the dark emptiness. But the void was quickly filled with a yellow light. So, Fynn survived. Someone younger than me actually made it. Elliot's thoughts swirled as he observed the surroundings. But even better, I can use my powers through the bodies of others—if Fynn really survived.
Without hesitation, he walked toward the jagged, rough yellow crystal. The light and wind began to grow stronger around him.
Whooosh!
The world was dark, the sky tinged with deep violet and pink hues. Towering walls rose higher than the buildings around them. Fynn's eyes flickered. His body was covered in cold sweat. Yellow blood lay in small pools around him. His left eye was missing, pierced through, and it lay nearby. His remaining eye flickered with no control over his body, and he reached weakly toward the fading stars in the distance. So, he survived. Lucky. Elliot sighed deeply, his mind attempting to assess his surroundings. High walls, purple deserts, probably more than two thousand and more fortresses outside. An interesting civilization—yellow-blooded, no less. The strength of the one man who brought Fynn and me here was inhuman. He jumped over ten meters, scaling dozen-meter-high walls with a single hand.
Elliot looked closely at the boy's situation, despite the poor circumstances. Poor boy. Only one eye left, and full of holes, but his yellow blood should help him recover quickly. Elliot felt sympathy for the boy's plight, but his words were meant to assert his authority, his power.
"Fynn," Elliot's voice echoed in the empty space, "let my words sink into your mind. I am watching you. I protect you. Your life was doomed here and now, but I saved it. I, the God of Creation, have granted you a new life. Learn to appreciate it."
Yellow light and wind swirled around them, causing Fynn to tremble. His eyes flickered erratically, his remaining eye rolling backward. As the vision of Elliot was forced out of Fynn's mind, Elliot was abruptly pulled from the dream. Yet, before he fully returned, he heard the faintest whisper from Fynn. His voice was distorted, hoarse, barely audible: "Thank you."
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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