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White is the New Black
Cale arrived in the new world without any warning and a loud bang.
His descent was fortunately without injuries as he felt the soft grass on his back without any pain accompanying it. Disoriented, Cale remained on the ground.
The bang was not him. Loud explosions rang from somewhere on his right with the ground vibrating accordingly whenever a new one occurred. It was far enough away to not be something of concern for him.
Cale sat up somewhat gracefully. Looking around, he noticed an unfamiliar region. Burned houses accompanied by broken furniture, the village he found himself in had been abandoned for a while; involuntary judging by the trail of destruction.
What concerned Cale even more was that he was in his room before he got dropped here, enjoying a cup of non-lemon tea and some calm before the storm. With the kids out of the house and everybody else busy, Cale finally had some time for himself.
Despondently staring into the sky, Cale lamented about his existence and questioned which god he must have annoyed now. Only divine interference could have caused his abrupt relocation, Cale was sure of that.
His home had been fortified by a truly impressive collection of dragons, mages, and even harbored some divine blessings – Cale hadn’t been home to reject them, which the God of Death gleefully abused -, making the place an impenetrable fortress.
Kidnapping Cale out of his home in broad daylight and Ron around, Cale would have been impressed if he wasn’t, you know, kidnapped and unceremoniously dropped into the wilderness.
- Cale, sob. Are you okay?
- Let’s fuck them up for taking you!
- Is there someplace to loot nearby?
His Ancient Powers were loudly filling his mind with baseless chatter. Only the Super Rock was somewhat normal.
- Cale, be careful. This place feels familiar but also not at the same time.
See, he is the voice of reason among the madness , Cale thought while looking around. The old man nagged him about safety while Cale used the time to slowly stand up. His limbs felt like lead, heavy and restrictive. Some stretching removed the bothersome feeling, leaving him slightly breathless.
- You should move more if stretching is your limit.
Cale ignored the Super Rock, feeling quite refreshed all of a sudden.
Another explosion happened in the distance. Cale could see a cloud of smoke rising into the sky. He decided to avoid that particular area for now.
Patting his clothes to get rid of some of the dust and dirt, Cale caught a glimpse of a certain book lying innocently on the floor. Black in color and weirdly void of any dirt, Cale stepped onto the book with his shoe. A satisfying crunch rang out.
The book started wiggling, practically fleeing from underneath his sole into open space. Pages turned, creating a small whirlwind of paper thicker than Cale’s current state of patience and sanity after discovering who was responsible for his surprise teleportation.
It didn’t come with much surprise since the manor was well-protected with only one divine, bullshit-powered individual gaining entrance by blessing the house while Cale was gone.
The book inched away from Cale, catching the hint of bloodlust in Cale’s otherwise stoic face.
- Sob. Sob.
Cale’s brow twitched dangerously as the pages started to be filled with the God of Death’s crying.
- It wasn’t me!
“I don’t believe you.” Cale returned with a leveled voice. He walked toward a nearby house. It was mostly intact with just the front area and roof burned off. Taking a nearby chair, Cale sat down, not even waiting for the book to follow him. Which it did. Sobbingly.
- It really wasn’t me! I had nothing to do with the teleportation.
The God of Death insisted. He practically begged Cale to believe him.
“If not you, who else? Also, where am I?”
The book got suspiciously quiet. Its pages fluttered hurriedly, never resting on a page long enough for Cale to make out if anything was written on it.
- The world called you. It was an accident on the world’s part, resulting in your crash landing there. I have good news though!
The book hopped around, suddenly quite energized.
- You only need to stay here for two weeks, after the allocated time, the world will automatically send you back home. Even better, since it’s a peculiar case, no time will have passed from getting taken to arriving home. You will miss nothing! Isn’t that great?
Cale didn’t share the God of Death’s enthusiasm. Pushing aside the issue of worlds having a consciousness and enough power to summon people, Cale focused on another part.
“I have to do nothing and can relax for two weeks?” His voice cracked at the end.
- .…yes.
The God of Death’s reply was anything but reassuring.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
- I am not hiding anything. There are just some small issues. Tiny ones even. Not really important and easy for you to avoid.
“Spit it out,” Cale grumbled, utterly annoyed.
Another explosion caused a dust wave to rise from the distance. He needed to leave as soon as possible unless he got caught in whatever was happening over there.
- You may recognize this world.
Cale blinked.
- Okay, please don’t freak out.
I won’t freak out but I will dismantle and loot your shrine , Cale vowed venomously. His heart was beating fast as anxiety set in. Recognize that world? Cale only knows his old world and his current one. The world of the Birth of a Hero.
“No.”
This had to be a joke.
“You didn’t.”
Cale was in denial. He rejected the familiar woods, recognizing them as northern pine, which was found a lot in the central region. Cale avoided looking to the left where a familiar mountain range stood strong nor did he agree with his traitorous thoughts, who told him all about the nearby flag’s origin.
- It wasn’t me! So, you can’t be mad at me! I am actually helping you.
“How are you helping me? I am alone in a world that is destined for destruction. A fight, no, a battle is taking place nearby and you tell me it’s not a big deal?” Cale snarled.
He was tired. Tired of fighting and tired of gods messing everything up.
Why couldn’t he be allowed to rest?! Cale defeated the White Star, bringing peace and prosperity to their home. He did his job.
- Cale.
The book stopped shaking, the writing also got more serious.
- If I had known something like this would happen, I would have done everything I could to stop it. The world also didn’t want this to happen. It wanted to reward you by teleporting you to a place untouched by people, still in your time and home place. A reward. Something went wrong and you ended up here, where time hasn’t been rewinded yet.
“What if I mess up?” Cale asked with a small voice.
- You can’t.
“How would you know that?!”
- Because I talked with the world. It is working on getting you back home, but its energy level is too low to get you back immediately. Two weeks. You can’t mess up time since the rewind is something written in fate for this world. You can run wild, destroy everything, and kill the White Star and the rewind would still happen. You are fated to arrive in this world. Nothing you will do in those two weeks except dying will endanger your home. I swear that on my name and divinity.
Cale sunk into the chair, boneless. His head hurt, but at least, Cale could sigh in relief. The words spoken by the God of Death rang true, carrying an aura of absolute truth, which was why Cale decided to trust him.
“Two weeks?” Cale asked.
He wanted the confirmation again that he had to suffer in this hellish place for just two weeks.
- Yes. Exactly two weeks and not a second longer, I will make sure of that.
The God of Death sounded quite handsome in his vow. Cale made a face.
“When and where am I?”
He needed to know where he could go. Which place was already contaminated by the White Star and his baboons? Cale also didn’t want to run into familiar faces.
Just the thought of seeing a scary Choi Han, a tired and dulled Alberu, or a snuffed-out Rosalyn made his stomach turn.
- You are currently in the southern central region. Or what is left of it. The war has been going on for over a decade. The original Cale Henituse will make a deal with me in four years. Most of the Roan Kingdom has been lost, leaving only the Central Region.
Cale hummed.
Various scenarios crossed his mind. He heard some information from Kim Rok Soo, the original Cale Henituse, from the gruesome time. It painted a bleak picture. All the more reason not to get involved. Cale could just leave. Hide out in an area nearby, hoping that nobody would find him. No place was truly safe anymore.
Naturally, he knew exactly one place where nobody would touch him. The original novel never mentioned the Super Rock Villa, Cale could just travel there and lock himself in. Resources would be a problem, but it wouldn’t be the first time he starved for a while.
The book’s pages fluttered open again.
- I have your bag!
The God of Death declared proudly, the words on the pages taking a slight pink tint as he waited to be praised.
“Give it to me,” Cale demanded, holding out his hand like a child would upon receiving candy.
Illegible words flashed across the pages. Nearby a familiar bag appeared. Cale grabbed it greedily, opening the fabric in one go.
Pastries, drinks, the Arm uniform, extra clothes, some mana crystals, the priest uniform he wore to mess with Clopeh as well as hair dye, explosives, a brick, and a lot of gold. Cale was content. With this, surviving would be easy. He stuffed the uniform into the deepest deaths only to discover a second one lying around. This one got the same treatment, vanishing beneath piles of lemonade in glass jars.
Having heard enough from the god, Cale grabbed the book and stuffed it into the bag. The book tried valiantly to get another message across but Cale was at the end with his patience.
The explosions in the distance were also getting closer, intensifying the need to leave as soon as possible. Cale can always chat with the god once he is somewhere safe.
Two weeks sounded like a lot. It wasn’t, Cale knew that. He just had to get to the villa, which was deep in enemy territory, after that, he was safe.
Breathing out softly, Cale collected his courage and started walking in the direction he knew he had to go. Later on, he could use the Sound of the Wind to travel faster. Waiting for the night with its shadows and welcoming darkness was the most reasonable time to travel. Plans were made and resources secured, yet Cale couldn’t shake the anxious feeling he was experiencing. It was almost as if his consciousness was nagging him.
Was it really fine to do nothing?
Hearing voices in the distance, Cale shuffled deeper into the woods, hiding in remote areas and thick bushes. His hair became a mess and his clothes got dirty and brown. Some scratches formed as well, although Vitality worked hard to erase them as soon as they were created.
Two weeks , Cale contemplated seriously. His calm demeanor was broken by the piece of apple pie he stuffed into his mouth. Munching merrily on the tasty pastry, Cale walked deeper into the woods, aiming vaguely for the north.
A few days passed rather quickly. At this point, Cale wasn’t even sure if he would ever reach the manor before the time was up. Traveling was dangerous, especially since he was in enemy territory. Even the night sky couldn’t hide him completely. Some close encounters made his heart beat fast.
One time, he had to quickly put on the fake Arm uniform and the original mask he pocketed from the White Star to mask himself as the leader of the enemies. A group of bears found him wandering, just giving Cale enough time to put up the disguise. He played the part disgustingly well, having major Clopeh flashbacks as the bears prostrated themselves before his feet.
Cale almost tripped over an almost three-meter-tall bear because he had to throw himself onto the floor at the last second. His heart was this close to expiring. Keeping his pocket face up, Cale wanted to guide them away under the premise he needed to do a super secret plan or something when a conversation between some bears caught his attention.
“Where do we leave the prisoner?” One bear said gruffly, pointing rudely with his thumb to a nearby cage.
“Don’t know,” another one chimed in, his voice slightly confused, “He looks like the boss, doesn’t he?”
Unified the two turned around and stared at Cale. A part of him was mentally patting the back of the White Star for having such stupid minions before a larger part cursed. Who else but Cale Henituse looks somewhat like the White Star?
Dragging his hand mentally over his face, Cale put on a smile. He walked toward the two, waving off any other bear that wanted to intrude.
“Prisoner, you say?” He said with a heavy voice unlike the gentle smile painted on his face. “One that looks like me?”
Cale sounded curious even though he was anything but. The two bears, men taller than double Cale’s height, blushed an ugly pink. They had manly faces with nothing gentle on them, yet the two were acting like teenage girls.
Cale scoffed.
“We will kill him!” The bear on the right shouted, his voice high-pitched. A hand moved toward the cage, getting ready to release the prisoner into the embrace of death for copying their venerable leader.
Cale shivered. Panicked, he stopped them immediately.
Coughing, he said, “Ehem, give him to me. He sounds like a fun toy, don’t you think so?”
The bears, as loyal as they were stupid, didn’t question his words and happily unlocked the cage. The aged face of Cale Henituse, weary and worn down from war and tragedy, stared at him. Deep lines and creases aged his face further than the thirty-six years he was. His eyes were painfully empty with just a tiny bit of spite left.
Cale Henituse’s hands were chained to his back. Another pair of iron chains kept his feet tied to the ground. Every movement from him made one of the chains click together.
He looked tired.
Cale gulped. Taking a deep breath, he got his body under control. With an authoritative voice, he pointed at Cale with a curled finger.
“Come with me. I will take good care of you.” He purred. Cale didn’t forget to throw the bears a grin, making them think he was mocking the prisoner. Laughing maliciously, the bears left Cale with his body’s predecessor. That sounded wrong, even in his head.
Shaking the bad thoughts away, Cale unlocked the cage. The keys made loud noises, overshadowing the hurried intake of breath Cale Henituse did. Cale only noticed because he was paying close attention.
While unlocking the chains around his feet, Cale leaned forward. His lips were just a few inches away from the older Cale’s ear when he started whispering, “I am not the enemy leader. Stay quiet and we can leave directly.”
Gazing meaningfully at Cale, the chains around his feet were unlocked with a soft click.
Cale Henituse’s eyes bore holes into his back yet the other moved without complaining. Every step he took was accompanied by the ringing of the chains on his hands. Cale couldn’t take them off yet since it would be too suspicious, completely freeing a prisoner in the enemy camp.
Some bears waved when his gaze caught theirs. Recalling the friendly façade the White Star liked to use, Cale smiled softly back. The bears muttered excitedly, leaving the duo alone. Acting swiftly, Cale guided the other toward the back when a bear stopped them.
“Sir, do you have any tasks for us?” He sounded almost hopeful, shuffling around his large body. The spear in his hands was held gently with not a speck of dirt or blood on it.
This camp was probably nothing important. The bears all looked rather stupid and uneducated in the art of war. A side camp at most. Cale grinned. This was great. It made it far easier to cover his tracks.
“At the moment, no. You know what you should be doing, don’t you?” He said teasingly. His words were ambiguous enough to hint at a greater picture, which the bear obviously didn’t know about, but asking further would make him appear incapable.
Furiously nodding, the bear vowed, “Of course, Sir. Yes, Sir.”
Cale patted his stomach since he couldn’t reach his shoulder. He left with the original Cale Henituse in tow, the other staying completely silent and letting Cale play the game of charade.
Using his wind power, Cale grabbed the chained-up, older version of his body and flew off. Admiring shouts reached him, solidifying the image that he was the White Star.
They descended in a nearby clearing, just far off enough to not be on the enemy’s radar. Cale Henituse eyed him the whole time with half-lidded eyes. At some point, a gleam returned to the previously soulless eyes.
Cale pulled out the key from his pocket, waiting for Cale Henituse to hold up his arms, which he did with a quirk of his eyebrows. The chains fell heavily onto the floor with a satisfying clang. Rubbing his chapped hands, Cale Henituse talked for the first time.
“Who are you?”
Cale blinked at him, suddenly quiet and at a loss for words. Who was he? Cale had the feeling if he told him his name, the other would get hostile. With no time to think further, he spat out the first name that came to his mind.
“Bob.”
“Bob?” Cale Henituse echoed, his voice heavy with disbelief.
“Bob,” Cale – now Bob – confirmed cheerily. He recalled certain hidden items in the depths of his bag. “A wandering priest.”
Cale looked at him as if he declared to be Choi Han or something equally outrageous.
Sighting softly, Cale-Bob excused himself to get changed in a nearby bush. He left behind some food which the other Cale wasn’t polite with and ate speedily.
Rummaging through the bag, he found the items he was searching for. Raon, sensing that Cale would be up to chaos even if the small dragon wasn’t with him, created some instant dye bottles. White, brown, and yellow. Grabbing resolutely the white one, red soon became startlingly white, resembling moonlight in all of its glory.
The priest robes soon followed.
Cale, embracing the name Bob wholeheartedly for now, looked into the nearby stream with critical attention to detail. He looked like Clopeh, just less crazy, which Cale took with a grain of salt. The book near him was buzzing hurriedly.
- Cale.
- Cale!
- I know you can see me! Pay me attention. Please.
- Caaaaaale!
“Yes, I can hear you. Stop shouting,” Cale said, not allowing the other to write anything before he directly continued, “I will disguise myself as a priest of yours. Help me cover should other priests check my status.”
- I can make you my Saint if you want.
“No.”
- Why not?
“I don’t like you.”
-…
Cale closed the book and banished it back into the depths of the bag. His cover was cleared now. Making sure that he looked holy enough to blind his enemies and allies alike, Cale walked back to Cale Henituse.
Cale, now Bob, smiled blindingly innocent toward a furiously blinking Cale Henituse.
“Um,” the other said eloquently.
“See, I am not an enemy,” Bob reassured him while keeping up the smile.
Upon closer inspection, Cale looked even worse than he previously thought. The crude armor was broken in several places, hanging on for dear life while not doing much for protection. The shirt beneath the metal was thin and far too large for his malnourished body. His hair was kept as short as possible, probably because he didn’t have the time nor the will to keep it clean.
He wasn’t somebody Bob would associate with the spunky redhead found in various portraits in the Henituse Manor. Even age and time wouldn’t damage somebody to this extent. Only tragedy could cause such devastation.
What confused Bob was how defeated he looked. No sane person would follow a complete stranger, practically handing his life over on a silver plate. Even now, freed and fed, Cale didn’t try to leave. He didn’t search for ways to defend himself nor did he analyze his surroundings.
In a way, he reminded Bob of his time as Kim Rok Soo when he was trapped underneath the collapsed building. Void of any hope and just living off spite and fear.
“Do you want more food?” He said instead, his hand already halfway into the bag.
Beacrox packed a lot of emergency meals that weren’t just apple pie. He fished out a bag with dried meat stripes and dried fruits. Handing over the bags to a startled Cale, Bob grabbed a cloth to place it on the grass. His robes were as white as his pale ass, normally no problem but Bob didn’t want to dirty them not even ten minutes after he put them on.
“Sit,” he commanded calmly.
Cale sat, his eyes fixed on Bob.
“What’s your name?” He asked, acting like he wasn’t intimately aware of who was sitting opposite of him.
“Cale,” He said. The desire to add his last name was clear, yet he refrained since being the last of his family with no land or the previous wealth that made his name so important didn’t seem like he deserved it.
Small talk wasn’t Bob’s fort and Cale, the chatterbox of the two, was being moody. They snacked in an uncomfortable silence until they made a solid dent in the pile of food. Nighttime was approaching fast.
“You could have left me there. It would have been better anyway.”
Bob stopped what he was doing, staring with wide eyes at Cale. The other just shrugged.
“I can’t repay you. The squad I was part of was annihilated. I honestly don’t know how I will report back without getting killed or being suspected of helping the enemies,” Cale said with a dry voice. He looked unbothered even though Bob knew this wasn’t the case.
“Why shouldn’t they trust you? You are a fighter on their side.”
Cale laughed hollowly.
“A fighter? Me? No. I am nothing. I signed up because that was the only thing I could do. No family, no reputation, no money, and no future. All I want is to hit that bastard just once.”
The last sentence was muttered through gritted teeth, practically dripping with venom. He clenched his fist, creating crescent-shaped indents in his palm.
Bob recalled the words Kim Rok Soo told him while Mila was repairing his plate. He spoke about living for revenge yet knowing his level of ability. Even Choi Han had no chance, how could he delude himself into thinking he was enough? Dying beneath a pile of corpses, never getting the chance to hit the White Star just once.
Bob schooled his expression into a calculated look of disinterest, careful to show neither pity nor disgust. Cale noticed his look, smiling thankfully.
“I will still head back, but I don’t know how.”
Logically, with his ability and skills, he wouldn’t survive the far way to the capital. Various bears and lions made their homes in the ex-Roan regions. Burned-down villages were a common sight. Humans that unluckily survived till now were treated like slaves; caught and used for entertainment.
His mouth moved faster than his consciousness could protest.
“I can accompany you to your people.”
- Didn’t you say you wanted to avoid anybody in the world? Cale, this is the exact opposite.
The Super Rock sounded worried. Bob heard his nagging, even agreeing with him, but he couldn’t just leave Cale Henituse. The God of Death reassured him that no matter what he did, Cale would survive till the fateful day he would make the deal, yet leaving him broken and alone like this left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You would?” Cale said with a raised brow and heavy amounts of disbelief.
“Yes, my gracious god, the venerable God of Death, allowed me to accompany you.” His bullshitting skills and silver tongue were activated right away. Waxing poetic about the God of Death and his benevolent nature, Bob left Cale no chance to object.
“I don’t believe in gods,” Cale pointed out.
Ah, I like you even more now , he thought viciously. Bob agreed, even mentally throwing the middle finger in the direction of the bag that contained the book, yet his words were the exact opposite.
Cale listened to him as he praised the god in words dripping with honey. There were some moments when he looked like he would love nothing more than to silence Bob eternally, reuniting him with his god permanently.
Bob could have stopped. He could have smiled, made an excuse, and changed the topic. In the end, he didn’t because his bullshitting made Cale smile. Some part of the snuffed-out light in his eyes returned. After a while, Bob even tickled out a smile from the grouchy man.
Clapping his hands together, Bob declared, “We shall travel together.”
Cale Henituse sighed tiredly, having no resistance to the vindictive and persuasive power of the future Cale and his masterful bullshitting skills.
“How will we do it?” He asked.
It was a good question. Traveling alone already failed, however, adding another person – one that has even less stealth skills than Choi Han had acting skills – would be incredibly hard.
Cale chose that moment to sneeze, angrily rubbing his slightly red nose afterward. He made a face that Bob would never even think of much less use himself. It was weirdly disconcerting to see a face he normally associated with himself – just less well-rested and older – look alien and foreign at the same time.
Shaking his head to get rid of useless thoughts, Bob focused his attention back on getting Cale Henituse to the Roan Kingdom’s territory, or what was left of it. Traveling straight ahead would be suicide. The alias Bob would keep him safe, but the same couldn’t be said for Cale Henituse, who looked like a noble, practically oozing it out of every pore on his body.
Feeling slightly jealous of the effortless grace and the undeniable elegance Cale carried, something Bob didn’t want to emulate. He just appreciated it. In his humble opinion, Bob was a better trash simply because his manners reflected the title.
Original Cale Henituse still had much to learn in the art of being trash.
“Ah,” Bob gasped when a particular thought hit him.
Leaning forward, ignoring Cale’s personal space or the way the other leaned back, Bob stared into Cale’s face. Cale Henituse could pass off as the White Star, couldn’t he? Why not fool the enemies a bit more?
The White Star was a mixture of Cale Henituse and Kim Rok Soo appearance-wise. Original Cale can barely pull it off since a lot of facial points are missing. Bob could ‘dye’ his hair back to red and act the part, but this would leave Cale vulnerable.
Grasping a strand of white hair, Bob grinned.
“I have an idea,” he said, smiling viciously and giving Cale Henituse flashbacks to his time with Ron. It had been years since he last saw the man, yet the stranger who saved him looked eerily similar. Blinking rapidly to get rid of the image, Cale waited for Bob to share his grand plan.
“You said you wanted to hit the enemy leader, right?” The other asked, seemingly changing topics.
Gruffly nodding, Cale said, “Yes. I want to hit him or cause him some pain as retribution for my family.”
A gentle smile formed on Bob’s face. He looked divine with his white hair and deep blue eyes. Cale wanted to pinch himself and was only barely able to hold himself back. The other’s face looked familiar, not in a sense that he had seen the exact one before, but rather that the face should have been familiar yet so much was wrong with it.
“Then how about we hit him from the back? Repeatedly? Causing just a tiny amount of chaos. A gentle headache, if you will.”
Bob sounded positively diabolic.
His voice purred the last part as laughter resonated through his voice. Even his eyes gleamed in an unholy light. Cale was confused. How could he have associated this figure with anything divine? When in reality, he was more of a temptress, beckoning Cale over to the dark side with a well-placed chuckle and a tilt of his head.
Bob’s hand went into his bag. He pulled out a set of clothes alongside a plain mask. Cale eyed them with healthy amounts of skepticism.
“What are those?”
“The enemy leader’s clothes.”
“…what?”
“I won them, so I took them. Ah, don’t worry, they were cleaned a few dozen times before I ever touched them again. Completely safe to wear.”
“They are his real clothes?”
“Were, now they are mine.”
Cale pinched his forehead, mentally exhausted with whatever his opposite was talking about.
“Hey, “ he said, “Just to make sure, you really aren’t the enemy leader and do this to fuck me over?”
Bob scoffed. It sounded both exasperate at the audacity of Cale to even suggest that and utterly disgusted.
“If I were the leader, I would have ended this whole war in under two years,” he said, speaking with the experience of a leader who did exactly that. Not that Cale knew that. He raised a brow at Bob’s arrogant words, not taking them at face value and just sorting them under bragging.
“You wear the clothes while I act as your partner. It’s simple. We pass through the various enemy territories without harm, you can be a dick to any of the opposing members, issuing orders that go against their actual goals, while making sure that things go dire, we will be able to escape.”
Cale gaped at him with an open mouth.
The plan was stupid. It will never work. Utterly hopeless and more of a death sentence than anything else.
So obviously, Cale said, “I’m in.”
He grabbed the robe, glaring at the red tsar decorating the top of the cloak, before donning the mask. Bob eyed the disguised Cale, noticing how the robe was lying tightly over his muscular chest. Almost pouting, Bob eyed his own skinny arms before eyeballing the undoubtedly larger muscles the other had.
This was fine. Bob was a slacker and a slacker needed no muscles.
The mask fit him perfectly. Peaking out beneath the bone-white item, reddish-brown eyes looked done with everything. His red hair was a bit too short, but nothing the baboons would notice.
With the night slowly arriving, Cale and Bob made their camp in the woods. Some convenient seals – made by the mighty Raon Miru and his cute siblings – secured the area. The duo went to sleep knowing that things would get chaotic the next few days.
Bob was snuggled in his sleeping bag, thinking about home.
Only one week to go. He had enough time to safely bring Cale Henituse back to the territory before getting teleported back to his family. Just a bit more and he would be able to sleep in his bed, enjoy tasty food, and be surrounded by excited chatter.
Just a bit more.
The next day arrived without much fanfare.
Cale was already up when Bob rose sleepily from his sleeping bag. Eyes still heavy with sleep blinked when the naked upper body of Cale Henituse, older but definitely no less handsome, came into view. Tight muscles lay neatly, covering his whole body and leaving no space for excess body fat. They described years of experience, a fighter – voluntary or not didn’t matter.
Bob sleepily greeted him. It took some level of control to take his eyes off technically his own body, not that Bob would ever allow it to get that muscular. Fuck no.
Cale just looked at him as if he were insane.
Breakfast was soon consumed and they were in the last steps of cleaning up the pace they rested, making sure no traces of their existence could be found there. No monsters or stray animals bothered them in the night, allowing them to rest comfortably.
Cale Henituse knew no magic and Bob wasn’t proficient in any kind that would help him transport Cale with him. Raon would be incredibly convenient. They could just transport over to the Central Region within a second.
On the other hand, Bob was glad the tiny dragon wasn’t with him. He never told him about the fate of his old self. Raon gained the vastness of the sky, a family, and hope. His older self, before the word was rest, never knew any of that.
Bob would raze the world down before he allowed Raon to be sad again.
The walk was quiet. Neither man was well-versed in idle chatter, both preferring silence over needless talking.
“Do you have any family?” Cale asked him out of nowhere.
Yes, yours , he mentally lamented before gracefully smiling at Cale. Instead saying, “My God is my family.”
Cale hummed.
“Mine is dead.”
- What a mood breaker. He has even less tact than you.
Super Rock commented, somewhat impressed.
“My condolences,” Bob offered sincerely.
Cale waved him off.
“I don’t think they would want to meet me again anyway. I am a disgrace. All those years, I am always asking myself the same question. Why did I survive and not them? We were attacked and defeated, yet only I was unlucky enough to survive.”
He talked freely, maybe it was because he knew Bob was a stranger – if he only really knew – or because the unbothered way Bob acted gave him the confidence to talk about something that had been bothering him for almost twenty years.
Deep scars can fade over time, becoming practically invisible with enough care, while others would leave behind ugly marks that hurt, never healing properly.
Cale Henituse, a fallen noble, was all alone. Relatives abandoned him after his family died, acting like he never existed in the first place. They took what they could from the remaining wealth of his family, before leaving for their territories.
Cale had not only lost his family but also his territory. A part of him was glad since he never learned about handling the territory, pushing it off to Basen, who was made for it, while another part hated the fact he became an orphan and homeless in one swoop.
At first, he tried to weather through with the hope that it wouldn’t get worse. Naturally, the world soon showed him how wrong he was. No place wanted to be associated with him because of his bad reputation and the ongoing war.
For months, he lived in inns. The owner taught him lessons about humility when he smashed a bar in anger and got thrown out not even a second later. His meager belongings were scattered in the dirt as he collected them with shaking hands and a flaming face.
Months became years and the years soon surpassed a decade. Almost two decades now and he felt every second of it.
Cale didn’t want to live anymore. He just wanted to find peace and rest. Only his burning desire to hit the enemy just once made him keep going.
With his money running out, relatives acting as if he never existed in the first place, and no worldly knowledge or skill, Cale enlisted in the military. He had a place to sleep, food to eat, and the possible chance to see and hit the White Star.
One of the downsides was seeing Choi Han strutting around. The mouthy and violent kid became the commander, ranking so far above Cale that it wasn’t funny. Not that he found any humor in the situation in the first place.
Choi Han, who still looked like a kid even now, was above Cale’s pettiness. The other didn’t remember him, nor did he shy away from trying to help his family’s territory when the Indomitable Alliance attacked. Cale will forever be grateful for that.
Living in the barracks while the war was taking place, ripping apart not just their kingdom but both continents as well, Cale was always anxious. Every other day his roommates would change. He never really tried to get to know anybody, just expecting to see them carried around in a body bag the next time they met.
Just a few weeks ago, he got sent out on a mission. Whoever thought it was a good idea to send Cale as a scout with others needed to get their brain checked. He still accepted it because it beat sitting around and feeling the despondence and despair clinging to everybody in the capital.
King Alberu would be seen walking around, his previously youthful face aged and weary. Accompanying him was Tower Master Rosalyn, although her tower fell five years ago, looking even more ancient. At least, her eyes still held some glimmers of kindness. The other extreme was Wolf King Lock, who honestly just grew up to be extremely edgy and far too pessimistic, which coming from Cale was an insult.
Choi Han looked as young as he had almost twenty years ago, but nobody had the time and care to ask why and how. Cale heard he experienced a bottleneck with his aura for the last few years, diminishing the already fragile expectations the remaining Roan citizens had.
It didn’t matter to Cale if they won or not. He just wanted his own petty revenge and then he could die. All the people he loved were dead, starting with his mother.
What would she think? Seeing him the way he was now would probably make her sad.
“Do you believe in the afterlife?” He asked before recalling that his companion was a priest of the God of Death. Making a face at his own stupidity, he was shocked when Bob actually answered.
“I don’t care,” Bob said. “ I am living in the here and now. I have people that I love and cherish, happily burning down the world should anybody try to hurt them. The thought of a future never crossed my mind, because why worry about something in the far distance when I could enjoy peace and happiness now?”
Kim Rok Soo never imagined a future nor did he have enough courage to forget the past. The present just dragged on for him, living but only because he hated dying. As Cale, he found a home, yet the annoying threat of the White Star kept him from enjoying a leisurely life.
And now, the fucking world was out to get him.
Honestly, if some random people appear to cause chaos after he gets back home, Bob will throw a tantrum.
He didn’t hold back with his words. Every sentence sent metaphorical arrows into his heart. The constant pain got stronger, heavily resting on his chest. Cale laid his hand atop his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart unlike how fragile it felt to him.
“Don’t lose them,” Cale said. His voice was nothing more than a whisper in the wind.
Bob nodded. He won’t.
Walking a few meters, covering a remarkable distance considering the ground was overgrown with moss and thorny tendrils, Cale blinked confusedly.
“Aren’t you a priest of the God of Death? Why would you deny the afterlife?”
Bob, without changing his expression solemnly answered, “The graces of my god are as vast as the sea. He gives us the freedom we desire while we rest in his precious dark embrace.”
Cale just looked at him, his expression indescribable. Bob smiled demurely, resulting in Cale turning away. His nose and ears were itchy. Listening to Bob’s (un)holy bullshit took years off his life.
The book inside Bob’s bag hopped around, agitated and feeling betrayed. Sob sob.
Their heart-to-heart quickly ended. So quick in fact, that Cale got whiplash with how fast Bob got distracted by something else. Either it was the young age of the other or Cale’s failing mental quality, but looking at Bob taking a leisurely stroll through the forest, Cale felt himself relax.
It has been ages, decades really, since he last enjoyed the company of a person without the other party aiming for anything or making fun of Cale. Bob was weird. He lacked the normal arrogance priests and nobles wore like a second skin, yet his spine was straight and he held his head high. The way he acted like the enemy, casually infiltrating the camp and even successfully getting out of it spoke of a tactical mind.
He was weird. Really weird.
A day passed. Then two. They didn’t encounter any enemy during their travels, which made Bob both sad and happy at the same time. Cale couldn’t handle his fluctuating moods and just weathered them through, offering some snacks when the other looked down.
On day five of their trip, just a day shy of getting back to the Roan territory, a squad of bears crossed their paths. Accompanying them were armed members of Arm. Black pouches hung on their hips, no doubt filled to the brim with bombs.
Cale witnessed a dozen burning down villages on his travels, each bearing witness to the destructive nature of the bombs Arm loved to use.
“Halt, who are you?” A large, grim-looking bear held up his hand, addressing them with a scratchy voice. His face was covered in fur and scars. Menacing and dangerous would be adequate descriptions for him.
Cale shivered.
Bob wasn’t hesitant at all, lifting a challenging eyebrow before speaking calmly, “You dare to stop us? Can’t you see who is before you?”
The bear flinched, not having expected such a response. Squinting his beady eyes, he looked Bob up and down. A pretty boy, nobody important. Only Clopeh Sekka, the northern lunatic, looked similar. He switched targets. Red hair, reddish-brown eyes hidden behind a white mask, who- He stopped moving.
Sweat gathered at his brow, drenching his fur horridly. His companions muttered loudly only to be silenced by the bear.
“My lord,” He said, his voice drenched in awe and respect. A three-meter-tall bear, more muscle than brain, was bowing low before Cale, not daring to look him in the eye. Cale’s eyes were shaking.
“The lord?”
Whispering rang through the clearing. More and more bears and Arm members crowded the area. Bob remained calm. He dryly looked at his nails, loudly scoffing, “Quite the audacious crowd here.” He sneered.
Silence overcame the previously chatter-filled clearing. The leader bear was bowing low, his head touching the floor with his buttocks turned upward. A comedic sight, Bob grinned.
“We don’t have the time to deal with you. Get moving and don’t disrupt our leader.”
Cale had been instructed to remain quiet. Bob was quite startled when he realized Cale had just slightly better acting skills than Choi Han, which was still far too bad to use in any situation. Remaining quiet and judgingly looking down should do the trick. Instead, Bob will take control and make the enemies uncomfortable.
Morbidly wondering how Cale would react at being compared to Choi Han while waving off the bear who offered a feast in their leader’s name. The expression of pure disgust would definitely be worth it to see, Bob contemplated seriously.
An Arm member moved forward. His walk was slightly unsteady, hinting at a recent injury that hadn’t healed yet. Bob filed it away in his mind. It could be useful if they needed to escape.
“Leader, you promised to eat with us. Why would you back out now?” The clothed individual asked, voice startlingly feminine.
Cale’s arm hairs were standing up as a shiver went down his spine. He managed to nod resolutely, channeling his inner trash confidently. No words left his throat. He was getting parched, almost like a dessert suddenly formed in his stomach.
Bob stepped forward.
“He has important things to do,” he informed the peanut gallery with a self-important tilt of his head and added a sneer just because he could.
The Arm member grinned.
“I know. Leader is always so busy, but since you arrived a day early, why not enjoy a good meal? We prepared tasty cookies as well as wine.”
Bob’s mouth watered at the mentioned cookies. He got a taste of them when he was acting as Naru. Even Crown Prince Alberu’s cookies couldn’t compare to the divine taste of the White Star’s ones. Were they the same or completely different? As a cookie connoisseur, he had to try them all.
- You are drooling.
The Super Rock informed him with a sigh.
- Ahaha, when in doubt, we can just burn them down!
Cheapskate chimed in.
- Loot them as well, just to make sure.
The Thief added.
Bob doubted their general well-being and stable state of mind. Fearing for his own, he ignored them.
“We insist,” The Arm member added, leaving no way out of the situation.
With no other option, the dup exchanged converted looked before obeying for now. Without much fanfare, they were led to a nearby tent. It was the biggest and obviously most luxurious one in the collection.
Bob eyed the various high-quality items. The bag on his waist was feeling empty. They wouldn’t mind if he swiped a few of the items, right?
Cale threw himself gracelessly and rather angrily into the nearby chair, mask still in place. Taking the disguise off now would be unwise, what if the enemies came in without knocking?
“What do we do now?” He asked.
Worry gnawed on his intestines, making the fresh fruit on the table appear disgusting to him. He dragged a hand over his face, almost dislocating the mask in the process. Grumpily correcting the skewed position, Cale looked at Bob, who looked like he was on vacation.
His eyes gleamed unholy as he bounced from one shiny object to the other. He poked some, lifted others, and ate some juicy fruits. Unbothered and definitely not worried.
“The enemy leader is coming!” He hissed anxiously. His voice was barely over a whisper as he feared being overheard.
“So?” Bob countered calmly.
“That’s all you can say? We are fucked if he actually shows up!” Cale dragged his hand through his hair, tousling the crimson locks and turning them into a bird nest. A headache formed, pounding without mercy inside his skull.
“But that’s what we want?” Bob said, tilting his head. “You said you wanted to hit him, didn’t you? Now is the time.”
Cale scoffed.
“I was being delusional! As if I, some trash, could ever touch the enemy if even the Hero himself couldn’t get a scratch on him?!”
Choi Han tried and failed multiple times to get the upper hand in a battle with the White Star. They crossed paths various times yet the White Star treated Choi Han like an ant, squashing him at every attempt and leaving him alive, living in shame, because he wasn’t worth the struggle.
The thought of amounting to more than Choi Han was ludicrous. It was so ludicrous that Cale started laughing. Throwing his head back and roaring, not even caring anymore if the bears and Arm members overheard him. He laughed until his throat hurt and his lungs protested angrily.
Slapping his tight, Cale stopped laughing. A dead look in his eyes was accompanied by a soulless sigh.
“I know I will die soon, but I hoped-“
He was rudely interrupted by Bob, who was still merrily munching on some snacks. Fruits had been replaced by cookies. Some crumbs fell onto his white robes, leaving chocolate stains on the no doubt expensive fabric.
“He is vulnerable to bricks,” Bob offered helpfully.
Cale blinked, utterly perplexed.
“What?”
Patiently repeating himself, Bob said once more with a clear voice, “Bricks. He doesn’t like getting smacked by them in the head.”
Who would? Cale wanted to ask, yet he refrained. His patience snapped like a dry noodle when force was applied.
“Wow,” he said, sarcastically enough that his voice was drenched in it. “Great knowledge. How can I ever thank you for this incredible tidbit of knowledge? Oh, great priest, you saved me. Why did I not think about smacking the enemy leader, a person of unknown origin, age, ability, and moral compass with a common brick? Does it need to have moss grown on it or can I use a clean one as well?”
Bob gave him a flat look.
“Any kind words. He is nothing more than a man who wants to play god, yet he bleeds like any other.”
Halting in his tirade, Cale noticed how Bob was speaking from experience. His calm tone was accompanied by memories.
“You fought him?” He asked, expressing his disbelief. If someone could fight and injure the White Star, why hadn’t they heard about him?
Bob nodded.
“I don’t believe you,” Cale retorted, voice pinched angrily.
“I can’t tell you more, but I did fight him. I will fight him in the future as well, just not when you expect it to happen.”
Bob, no Cale Henituse, had a vague picture of the original Cale. He heard many things, more bad than good, and their short interaction was informational enough concerning the general picture. Cale selflessly offered his mother’s ancient power to him, allowing Kim Rok Soo to not only embrace his new name and identity but also save the world.
He trusted the other on a personal level and thought he at least deserved some honesty.
Cale naturally didn’t understand Bob’s ambiguous words.
“Why can’t you tell me more? Will I ever find out what you mean?”
“You will,” Bob vowed, “I can promise you that. Just not now. Don’t tear yourself down like this. I am not good at comforting people, preferring to talk without idle chit-chatter. There will be a time when the whole world will be grateful to you.”
They will never know who the true hero was as the original Cale will remain underappreciated and forgotten, but Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu all know that without the original Cale’s sacrifice, Kim Rok Soo would have never ended up in their world.
Choi Han was especially thankful, taking his time to threaten, eh, to pray to the God of Death to take good care of the future Kim Rok Soo.
“How can you be so sure about that?” Cale whispered with a broken voice.
“Because I know the future and I know enough about you. You are incredible. The true hero in my opinion.”
A glace covered Cale’s eyes as he teary-eyed turned away from Bob, whose voice never broke as he stated those audacious words. The silence that followed was unlike the previously heavy one comfortable.
Bob didn’t comment on the red eyes Cale sported the next day, while Cale had the tactile understanding to not mention the brown spots on Bob’s robes.
Only one day was left.
While Cale was asleep, Bob communicated with the God of Death. The conversation was filled with exasperated crying from the God of Death’s side and deadpan replies from Bob’s side. The world had managed to establish the right time for him to be sent back.
“I can leave now?” He asked, curiously.
- Yes, my child. Shall I teleport you home now?
Shaking his head, he stopped the god before he got any ideas.
“Give me a few hours. I want to help Cale Henituse. Are you watching me?”
The “Always,” sounded as creepy as it was. The book jumped up and down, feeling quite sad at the disgusted look it received. Genuine love! Sob.
“Good, then wait for my sign and teleport me out when I tell you to.”
- Understood!
The border to Roan, or what was left of it, wasn’t far off. If things go south, which will happen, he is sure of that, he can command Cale to run and protect his back till he manages to get over the border. Causing a mess was Bob’s specialty, after all.
The White Star actually showing up was rather convenient. Bob’s hands were itching for a good beating with most of his ancient powers agreeing with him. Only a certain old man was skeptical.
- Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?
Super Rock asked with heavy amounts of sarcasm and concern.
“No,” Bob denied vehemently.
The only one being sacrificed today will be the White Tsar’s dignity. Killing him was out of the picture as Bob wasn’t a fan of stabbing himself again. Ron also confiscated the World Tree dagger, which was unneeded since he never planned on using it improperly again.
“Are you ready?” Bob asked a panicking Cale, who was breathing heavily. The scathing glare he received screamed, “You think I look okay?”
Some bears prostrated themselves before the duo, guiding them to the nearby dining area. Cale ate some of the dry bread, doing his best to not choke on it. Cale, having confirmed there was no poison by dripping a few drops of Eruhaben’s potion into the water, only drank. The bread looked dry enough to chip a tooth.
“Prepare yourself,” Bob whispered to him when the area, previously lively, got quiet. Footsteps could be heard as someone approached from the back.
Bob turned around, the cup still in hand and a bored look on his face. The venomously grinning face of the Arm member that welcomed them yesterday came into view. Behind her was someone he knew and instinctively wanted to curse out.
Avoiding verbal answering, Bob lifted his cup and toasted mockingly to the arriving White Star. The other raised a brow, either impressed by Bob’s audacity or planning his impending murder for the disrespect.
“There they are!” The Arm member shouted, pointing at them with her finger.
“That’s rude,” Bob said, making the Arm member even more angry. Her hand was twitching from suppressing all the pent-up frustration. Knowing she was outmatched, her help-searching eyes went to the White Star, who so far was watching the whole debacle with an interested glint.
Cale was having heart palpitations. His mind was working overtime, staring with pure hatred at the White Star, the leader, and the reason why his family died. His fingers itched to throw something, preferably a wine bottle. It would sail in a spectacular arc before smashing onto the White Star’s head, drenching the man in cheap wine since he didn’t deserve the good one.
Whipping his head around, Cale stared at a conspicuous brick that hadn’t been there when he was eating the bread. It laid on the table, acting like a part of the tableware. A common reddish-brown, perfectly shaped and just the right size to pick up.
His hand moved over, wanting to lift it when the White Star, who was getting annoyed for being forgotten and disrespected, chimed in.
“You have to excuse her. She copied your level of audacity, stealing the identity of another person and using their items freely, so while her actions may seem rude, they are nothing compared to yours. Aren’t I right?” He asked with a mild voice.
Bob saw it differently. He objected with a drawling tone, impressing Cale who was still debating whether to take the brick or not.
“No, her rudeness is so much worse. Who knew where she placed those hands yet she pointed them nakedly at us? Disgusting .”
Bob wrinkled his nose as if a bad smell entered his range. The Arm member was close to fainting from anger. She clenched her hands into tight fists, staring with bloodshed eyes at the White Star, pleading with him to do something.
The White Star’s lips curled into an amused smile.
“Ah, that is true. How shall I make it up to you, gentlemen? Why don’t you share your identity with me and I will reward you appropriately?”
With a mocking smile, Bob seriously questioned the White Star’s intellect. Such a basic tactic could be seen through by Raon, how could it fool them?
Well, the White Star wanted an introduction, he shall get one. Pushing his sleeves off the table, Bob stood up with raised arms, showing the alerted enemies that he was unarmed. Unhurriedly walking a few steps, Bob smiled innocently at the White Star. Cale looked at him from his spot on the table as if he found the new resident lunatic in him.
“Greetings. I am Bob, a priest of the God of Death.” Bowing low enough to lose eye contact with the White Star, Bob was able to look around, estimating the positions of the enemies. Just twenty, quite doable.
“Bob?” The White Star repeated.
“Bob,” he confirmed.
“…Bob.”
“Yes.”
“I see,” the White Star muttered, “What brings you here?”
It’s showtime, Bob thought amusedly. His next words sent the clearing into chaos as the bears and Arm members scrambled for their weapons and Cale sought shelter beneath the table. Even the White Star took a step back, his brows wrinkled and face set in an indescribable expression.
“Just your embarrassment, not your death. That will happen somewhere in the future, don’t worry.”
The earth shook. Tents, chairs, benches, and even carriages started falling over. Only the White Star and Bob looked calm, the latter even clapping mockingly. Raising his hand slightly, the earth parted in front of Bob. A crack the size of a double carriage formed, widening every second in which Bob just stared down the abyss.
“Not sacred?” The White Tsar’s voice reached him.
“With this level of skill? No.”
Accompanying his verbal answer, Bob sent a wave of his own at the startled White Star. The earth completely shattered, one side trying to go low and rip the place apart while the other created spears and walls of dirt, all aiming for the White Star.
Every time the White Star wanted to start a conversation, Bob would send a spear at him. They switched positions along the way. While Bob was standing near the end of the clearing, the White Star found himself near Cale, who was still safely hidden and forgotten beneath the surprisingly still-standing table.
The brick was secured in one of his hands as he watched the enemy near him. Bob kept him successfully distracted and no other enemy was nearby, they were either swallowed by the rifts or closed off behind a wall of earth.
Cale crawled out beneath the table. His back was covered in sweat and dirt. The brick felt far heavier than it should be and the coarse material agitated his skin. Clenching his hand around it, he stood up and clumsily sneaked toward the enemy.
Fortunately, Bob was successful in keeping the White Star in check. Upon seeing Cale appearing, He threw a collection of stone spears at the other, nailing them all into the floor near his feet. Only narrowly missing, yet the White Star never moved.
“Who are you?” The White Star asked again through gritted teeth.
“Bob!” He cheerfully replied.
With the enemy successfully distracted, Cale stood directly behind him. The brick was lifted high above his head, and with murder in his eyes, he brought it down. A satisfying crunch was heard as the brick connected with the backside of the White Star’s head.
Furiously whirling around and with blood dripping down his nape, the White Star snarled like an angry beast.
“How dare you? You worthless vermin-“
He got interrupted by Cale, who took a page out of Bob’s actions.
“Trash, if you please.”
“Scum!” The White Star snarled yet he was distracted by another wave of spears descending toward him with a more calculated aim. He created a wall of earth otherwise the spears would have pierced his legs and lower body.
Cale chose that moment to swing a second time. Once again the brick connected with a crunch, making Cale giddily lift it upwards only to bring it downwards again. And again.
The White Star fell to the floor, his eyes hazy with pain. Waving his hand, the previously impressive walls fell in one swoop, inviting the Arm members and bears into the fray. Suddenly ridiculously outnumbered, Cale ran to Bob, who created a wall of earth around them.
“You will flee toward the border while I keep them distracted,” Bob instructed with a level voice. His breathing was heavy and the cough that followed sounded oddly wet.
“You will die!” Cale hissed back.
Shaking his head, Bob said, “No, I have a way out. You are the one who will die if you don’t get moving.”
“Will we ever meet again?”
“Naturally.”
Their goodbye felt wrong. Just a few days passed since their first meeting yet both were attached to the other’s manners and quirks. Cale didn’t want to leave Bob behind. The Roan Kingdom needed the information, desperately even. He had to return.
“Go,” Bob mouthed.
Cale ran. He didn’t look back because he knew he would hesitate, maybe even turn around and remain at Bob’s side. The sprint through the woods stole his breath. With a fast-beating heart, he ran as he never had run before.
Footsteps behind him alerted him to people following. He picked up his pace, almost stumbling as he continued sprinting.
The edge of the forest and where he knew a large Roan camp came closer. Just a few more steps. The last step before he was blinded by light was accompanied by people shouting from both sides. Enemies from behind halted while allied soldiers charged past Cale to intercept the people hunting him.
Cale collapsed. He survived another day.
Meanwhile, Bob was still facing off against the White Star. His back was drenched and some blood he previously coughed up dripped onto the floor.
“Now,” he whispered to the God of Death.
The air around him started to shimmer.
“Running away?” The White Star mocked.
Bob scoffed.
“Don’t praise yourself too much. You will get your due.”
He vanished in shimmery particles. The light blinded him for a second and once Cale opened his eyes, he was back in his room. The only signs of his adventure were the dirty clothes he was wearing and the blood still merrily dripping down his chin.
Just when he got up to clean himself up. Ron opened the door.
Both just stared at each other. Cale was scared witless at the menacing smile that formed on Ron’s face. The door closed with a soft click, sealing Cale’s fate completely.
He survived the White Star but would die at Ron’s hands. Made sense.
As days passed and Cale shared what happened with the rest of his family and friends, thoughts about the original Cale, now known as Kim Rok Soo, didn't leave his mind. Any free moment was occupied by Kim Rok Soo. Was he fine now? Living well? How was his mother-turned-niece? Was he finally happy?
Choi Han and Beacrox were off to the nearby temple of the God of Death to beat him up with a broom of all things. Cale didn’t want to ask. The malevolent glint in Choi Han’s eyes was enough to scare him off.
Laying down for a nap, Cale panicked when he woke up yet he couldn’t recognize his surroundings. Again.
“It’s just a dream before you join the others in beating up the God of Death. Great job by the way. I saved the video of him getting summoned and then beaten by a broom on seven different devices.”
A voice spoke from behind Cale, startlingly familiar yet weirdly different with the permanently added drawl that turned a previously boring and stoic voice into the work of the devil.
Whirling around, Cale gazed at Kim Rok Soo.
The other was leisurely sitting wrong-sided on a chair, his arms languidly lying on top of the armrest. His long legs crossed underneath the chair in a pose Cale would never have done.
“Rok Soo,” Cale greeted with an honest smile.
“Bob,” the other cheekily returned. Upon receiving a pouting glare, he jokingly waved him off. “Sorry, but I had to hold back when we first met since time was dire and all. You don’t know how badly I wanted to call you Bob while making fun of your name choices.”
Cale wanted to defend himself.
“Crown Prince Alberu also used Bob as an alias,” he pointed out, not wanting to name the other options since they wouldn’t help his case. Toonka and the God of Death were many things, but definitely not well received by Rok Soo.
The blank stare he received in return was ignored. Coughing softly, Cale inched closer, suddenly quite shy.
“How are you?”
Kim Rok Soo knew he was stalling, nonetheless, he answered.
“Fine, thanks to you. My niece named her pet hamster after you.” The proud grin on his face was brighter than the sun. Cale felt content, he dragged over another chair and invaded the personal space of Kim Rok Soo. Their shoulders touched teasingly, highlighting the changes their past bodies went through after switching.
Where Cale left most of his muscles behind and allowed the hair to grow longer, Kim Rok Soo did the opposite. Not only did he maintain past Kim Rok Soo’s work out but even brought it up a notch. Impressive arms and thigh muscles did their best to escape the clothes they were stuffed in while his abdominal muscles were as compact as a washboard.
Various new scars joined Kim Rok Soo’s body while Cale was startlingly clear of any, with the sole exception being the one near his heart where he went stab-happy.
“Cale,” Kim Rok Soo called him, “You don’t know how much your words and actions meant to me. I was able to power through four more years, always repeating your actions and words inside my mind when I was at my lowest, most depressed. You were my hero, just like you told me I was yours.”
This time it was Cale who had to blink away wayward tears. Kim Rok Soo offered his hand to Cale, who took it gracefully. Both enjoyed the moment, resting side by side with connected hands and their fingers intertwined.
“I don’t want to leave,” Cale muttered.
Kim Rok Soo laughed. “We will meet again when we both sleep. This is a permanent reward from the God of Death. He offers this as a way to get you to stop your guard dog from chasing him down further with a broom.”
Sweatdropping, Cale wondered what kind of expression Choi Han made that even the God of Death was scared witless by him. The power of a protagonist, he decided after mulling over it for a long second.
“Then, see you soon?” He asked, hesitantly.
“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” Kim Rok Soo promised and it was the greatest sentence Cale heard in a long while.
“See you soon.”
They both left through different doors. Cale took the actual door, slowly twisting the knob and walking out unhurriedly, while Kim Rok Soo jumped heroically out of the window. This time, he turned around, knowing he would get to see Cale again.
“See you soon,” he whispered with a gentle smile before jumping.