"I can’t believe you would do something this vile. And for what? A dead woman and her so-called illegitimate son?" The Emperor’s voice cracked as he looked up at Xander from the cold floor. "Xander, how could you? I thought you were my brother."
The Central Plain Palace was under attack by the Demonic Sect, and the throne room lay scattered with blood and broken runes. A large pagoda had fallen and split across the floor in ruins, leaving the once-golden chamber nothing more than a collapsing building that smelled of blood and iron.
Xander, the Immortal God of War, stood over his brother. The Celestial Emperor of the Central Plain lay on the ground before him, blood dripping from his wounds and pooling on the broken stone while he stared up with wide eyes.
"Why, brother? Why do this?" the Emperor asked.
Xander’s voice came out cold and flat, and his eyes held no light as he looked down at his brother.
"Really? That’s all you have to say?"
He tilted his head up and looked at the collapsing ceiling above them. Dust fell from the cracked stone while the sounds of battle echoed from outside the walls. He sighed to himself before lowering his gaze back to his brother, and a small laugh escaped his mouth.
"Wow, just wow." Xander shook his head slowly. "The great and mighty Emperor of the Central Plain had one job. I gave you just one job. I went to war for your kingdom, battle after battle, just to bring the highest glory to your people, and I only asked you to do one thing." His voice dropped low. "Protect my family. And what did you do?"
"I tried. I really did, Xander, but I could not stop it."
Xander’s cold eyes turned red. He released his aura, and the pressure flooded the room. The walls shook as cracks spread across the floor, and the Emperor flinched.
"Even as you lie on the ground, brother, you still move that mouth of yours with nothing but lies. I am not your minister. I am not your subject. You cannot use that silver tongue against me." Xander stepped closer. "I know you well, brother. I know about your lies. I know about the betrayal. You killed my wife and child because she did not love you, and you lie there and dare to lie directly to my face. Well, I must applaud your act."
The Emperor coughed out a mouthful of blood. He looked up at Xander and smiled, blood staining his teeth.
"So what? I had two of them killed. And look what you did." He coughed again and turned his head toward the window, where the sounds of men screaming and dying drifted in from outside. "You burned down the whole Central Plain just for what? Just for revenge for your family? Really, brother, what were you thinking? Millions dead just for your revenge."
Xander looked at him, his eyes hollow. He looked away for a moment before turning back.
"I protected you and this realm for my family. Now that they’re dead, you and this realm should burn and die alongside them." He paused. "Don’t you think? It’s a fitting end to your treachery."
The Emperor stared at him. "You’re a monster."
Xander looked back with no emotion on his face.
"Like you said when I asked you about my family. A small sacrifice for the greater good."
With that, Xander drove his sword into the Emperor’s chest and watched the life leave his brother’s eyes. When it was done, he staggered back. His knees hit the ground, and his hands were covered in blood.
He looked around the ruined throne room. His chest felt tight, and he coughed until blood filled his mouth. Then he smiled.
"Eloise. I’m coming to meet you soon."
His body fell to the ground and went still.
A young man let out a strange breath as he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was his own hands gripping a metal chair, and a woman was seated in it with her back to him so that he could only see her long silver hair. Before he could think, someone touched him from behind.
"Orson, you okay? Why did you—"
His body moved before his mind caught up. He grabbed the hand, twisted it behind the owner’s back, and held it there.
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Orson, let go of my hand!"
Xander released him and stepped back, then looked around at his surroundings. Where was he? Strange buildings rose up all around him, some tall and some short, while neon lights glowed from signs in red, blue, and green. The streets were smooth and dark with rain puddles reflecting the lights, and glass towers stretched up into the night sky. Drones flew overhead with blinking lights. He did not recognize any of it.
Then he looked at the people in front of him.
His mind was spinning as he looked at them one by one. The first was the young man who kept calling him Orson. He looked to be in his twenties or thirties—Xander could not tell. The second was an older woman who stood back with a worried expression. The third was the woman in the wheelchair, who had turned around to look at him.
Xander’s spiraling mind stopped.
She looked like a painting brought to life. Her hair was white silver and fell past her shoulders, and her face was pale and smooth. But it was her eyes that held him still. Blue eyes that looked cold and lifeless, with no end to their depth. He knew that look too well. It was the same as his own, and the feeling it gave him was familiar—he had felt it not long ago.
The young man waved his hand in front of Xander’s face. Xander blinked and snapped back to the present.
"Orson, are you alright? You’ve just been looking around since— is something wrong?"
Xander looked at the three of them. He did not know what to say at first, so he simply nodded.
"I’m fine."
But the voice that came out of his mouth was not his. The voice did not belong to him. What was going on?
The young man seemed to accept his answer. He took hold of the wheelchair, and they all started moving forward. The streets were silent as the moon shone down from the night sky and cast shadows across the pavement.
Xander followed the group until they reached a house. He looked at it strangely, for it was not something he knew. The walls were clean white and the roof was flat, while a small set of steps led up to the front door. Warm light glowed from behind the windows.
The young man looked back at him. "Orson, we’re here. You have the keys with you, right?"
Xander looked down at himself. He was dressed strangely too—tight blue pants and a dark jacket with strange markings. He nodded.
The young man smiled. "Good. So me and Miss Baker will leave you two to your own. I mean, it’s your wedding night. It would be rude if we stayed."
With that, they left, and Xander stood alone with the woman in the wheelchair.
He looked at her. She looked back at him. Silent.
He did not know what was going on, but the man had said the keys were with him. He touched his clothes until he felt something hard in his pocket, then removed the key and looked at it. It was a small piece of black metal with buttons on it.
He looked at the strange building the man had called a house and walked forward. When he reached the door, he saw a metal box with glowing numbers on it and a keyhole. He looked at the key in his hand and saw numbers printed on a small tag.
He typed the numbers into the metal box. It blinked red. He tried again. The box blinked green and the door clicked open, and all the lights inside the house turned on at once.
Was this another use of magic? But he could not feel anything around the house. Wait. He realized he could not feel anything at all. The spiritual energy was all around him, yet it felt different—distant and wrong somehow.
He looked back at the woman in the wheelchair. She was still watching him, so he walked over to her and bent down to her level.
She flinched and pulled her head back. "Do not come any closer."
Xander froze and looked at her. She stared back at him, then sighed to herself.
"I would appreciate it if you took me inside."
Xander looked at her. Take her inside? He thought for a moment, then, before she could react, lifted her from the chair.
"What— what are you doing, Orson?"
"Doing as you said. I’m carrying you inside."
The woman’s face turned red. "I meant with the chair."
Xander glanced at the wheelchair, then looked back at her.
"I think this is more convenient for me."
She stared at him, shocked. "Well, it is inconvenient for me."
Xander looked at her. She was beautiful up close. Her body was soft and light in his arms, and she wore layers of clothing that covered everything except her face and hands. A soft, clean scent rose from her hair—it smelled calm. He said nothing and just looked at her with a blank expression.
She looked back at him.
"And so?" he finally said.
The woman opened her mouth, but no words came out.
With that, he carried her into the house.