The Harbinger's Children (Guardians Of The Arcane Chronicles Vol. 2)

Chapter 15: Cracking Point

Fun Fact: Despite living in the modern age, the magis of Surone value their traditional clothes highly. Robes are a common form of fashion, and come in many variations. Battle robes, Company robes, School robes, Class robes, just to name a few.

Casual attire such as the shirt and pants are usually reserved for homewear. It is considered rude and classless to dress in anything other than robes for almost any type of event. On the other hand, metas are not expected to wear robes. Those who choose it as their fashion statement are viewed as disrespectful and socially inept.

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Gaius felt eyes on him, although there was nothing but snow and rubble as far as the eye could see. Not like he cared, though. True Vision would give him sufficient warning if whoever those eyes belonged to were hostile. Orange lit his irises as he scanned the bunker in front of him.

"I make about twenty people hiding in their nest," he said, before glancing at a smoke vent. "And one other way in."

"Do you see Felix?" Kleopatra asked worriedly, hugging her coat closer to herself.

"I can't tell yet." Energy charged in his feet and propelled the boy to the vent in a single bound. Kleopatra landed a moment later, accompanied by the sound of a retracting grappling hook.

The duo got out of the short vent quickly enough. Gaius wasted no time, slamming a fully powered energy ball into the face of a solitary woman right after he landed. She collapsed to the ground immediately, blood leaking from her nose.

"Is... is she dead?" Kleopatra asked with a trembling voice, bending down to inspect the body sprawled on the floor.

"Don't know, don't care." Gaius looked around. A few pans hung sloppily from the walls, and the counter was smeared with brownish stains of unwiped cooking oil. He sighed in frustration. Of course that smoke vent was connected to a kitchen, not an armoury.

The door opened without warning.

A ball of ice flew towards the man entering the kitchen. Scalding oil followed it closely. Muffled groans punctuated the air as he tried to scream in pain, but the ice had already sealed his mouth shut. A fist swung his way, cracking his left cheekbone. Another hit slammed into his chin, knocking him back.

And another. And another. And another-

"Gaius, stop! He's already down!" Kleopatra pulled her friend back. The man slumped to the floor, blood smearing all over his badly swollen face.

"What's going on with you?" she exclaimed. "You're being uncharacteristically violent lately. That's not the Gaius I know-"

"Do you?" Gaius shook her hand off roughly. "Do you really know me? I try so hard to be a good guy, but what has that gotten me? Nothing but more death. My life is gone! My future is gone! And now I'm stuck here because more dimwits want to play God. So let a guy blow off a little steam, alright?"

"I get it; you're frustrated," Kleopatra said softly. "But you are a good guy. You've always sought to help people, even at the expense of yourself."

The boy scoffed. "Yeah, so what? I couldn't help them in the end, could I? They still get hurt; they still die. I'm sick of this. This world doesn't deserve heroes; it doesn't even deserve forgiveness."

His voice dropped to a guttural growl. "It should've been destroyed."

"Maybe the world doesn't deserve forgiveness, but you do!" Kleopatra rushed forward, pulling him into a hug. "Don't be so hard on yourself, please."

"Why do you care..." Gaius tried to push her away, but she held on tight. "Let me go, Kleo... You're better off without me-"

"Because I fell for you, dammit!"