an unfortunate change in genre

Part 55

The flickering light above was the first clue that something quite strange was going on.

Roksu hadn't seen a light like that in a long time. Although, he'd also seen a lot of them recently. Did reliving a memory count as recently? Considering the lethal reality of those dreams and the tangible nature of them he supposed they had to count.

It still struck him as out of place.

Was he still in his memories?

That didn't make sense either. Roksu certainly had no memory of sitting in this particular office or any recollection of meeting the chestnut skinned man seated across from him.

He looked awkward, like a person who wasn't quite sure what to say.

Roksu fixed him with a deadpan look. He probably would have been scared if he wasn't so exhausted, there wasn't a single aspect of his being that didn't ache after what he'd been through. "What do you want?"

The damn punk had the audacity to look taken aback by how Roksu was talking to him. Roksu didn't have the patience to talk respectfully to whoever this was with his body and soul just...

...actually, was he alive...?

Roksu reflected that what he'd gone through wasn't something he ought to survive through. He didn't have a complete understanding of the course of events but through the shattered memories of his sloppily pasted together soul he had a rather broad and uncomfortable understanding of what had happened to him.

"You're speaking so informally to me. I suppose that makes sense, you don't know who I am."

"I don't really care who you are." Roksu said in a clipped tone. But the growing panic over his circumstances was causing chaos inside of his heart.

"...that's fair, all things considered." The man said and there was that awkwardness that bothered Roksu. It bordered on guilt and looked all too uncomfortably like a person about to deliver bad news.

"Am I dead?" He asked outright. He had the slightest suspicion who this person could be but now actual evidence.

There was that cringing awkward look. "Not... quite."

"Explain."

"I called you here to let you know what I can. Unfortunately there's a limit to what I can tell you."

Roksu frowned. He was already feeling a headache coming from whatever fuckery was about to be explained.

His recent experiences had rather soured him on the concept of gods.

"What can you tell me?"

"Your soul has been ripped apart. If not for the efforts of your friends, you would already be dead. As it is they've bought you time but not a solution. In your current state, you'll only be able to live about a year longer."

Roksu laughed.

It was a sudden burst of hair that came straight from the chest.

It wasn't a good laugh or a long laugh.

He'd always considered that he was alive because he hadn't died yet. And after that, he'd just strove towards a slacker life where he'd finally be able to rest.

He'd already died once so it wasn't necessarily that he feared death.

He just had a lot to live for at the moment. A lot of people who wouldn't take his terminal status all that well. A lot of things he still wanted to do. And in all of that, he couldn't help but think what a shitty joke it was.