activa-t Chapter 537: Love Letters IV
Chapter 537: Love Letters IV
Chapter 537: Love Letters IV
{Too Angry To Die}
Pain.
That was the first thing he felt.
Not fear. Not hesitation. Just rage.
He got up, his body screaming, his wounds tearing open again.
The monster was still alive.
Emir dragged himself forward, step by agonizing step.
Then—he punched.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Fists raining down like a storm.
Bones cracked—his or the monster's, he couldn't tell.
His vision blurred. Blood poured from his wounds.
Still, he fought.
Still, he refused to die.
His fingers clawed at the ground, pulling himself up.
He got out a minigun.
The weapon was too heavy for him in this state. His arms trembled as he lifted it.
But he fired anyway.
Bullets shredded into the monster's skull.
Click.
Out of ammo.
He tossed the weapon aside, yanked another from the bag.
Bang.
Click.
Another one.
Bang.
Click.
Over and over until every bullet he had was gone.
And the monster was still breathing.
But now—so was he.
Aether flooded his veins, his body absorbing what little energy he had left.
It wasn't enough to heal him.
But it was enough to kill.
Emir forced every ounce of Aether in his body outward.
A blast of raw power tore through the monster.
It let out a final, ear-splitting cry...
Thud.
And collapsed.
Emir barely had time to smile.
Darkness.
{The Crawl}
He woke up in agony.
Every muscle in his body screamed.
He couldn't move his legs.
He couldn't move his arms.
But—he was alive.
His family?
Still unconscious.
His cohort?
Still out.
If he wanted to survive—he had to move.
He crawled.
Like a snail.
Like a dying man chasing the last flicker of light.
Blood smeared the ground behind him.
His body ached.
He took out his old-world medicine.
The best kind.
The kind only the rich and powerful could afford.
A few doses barely kept him from passing out again.
But something was wrong.
His reflection was older.
A few wrinkles.
A few white strands in his hair.
His lifespan—burned away.
The price of almost turning hollow.
By the time he reached the others, he barely had the strength to lift his arms.
But he did.
And in his hands—
He offered them Valora.
An exchange.
Because a life saved without reason was a life wasted.
They took it.
Then they followed the trail of his blood.
And they realized.
How long he had crawled.
How much he had suffered.
How much he had bled.
Then—they ran.
To heal the ones he couldn't save on his own.
{Tomb of Rock and Dust}
Three days.
It had been three days since Emir and his family disappeared.
Lily and Laura stood where they were last seen.
The battlefield was still a graveyard.
People were dying everywhere.
No one had the time to search for the presumed dead.
But they did.
They chased after his last known location.
And when they got there all they saw was rock and dust.
Rubble. Crushed earth.
A tomb.
Without hesitation, they dug.
Meter after meter, stone after stone.
Their fingers tore open.
Blood painted the rocks they touched.
But they didn't stop.
They couldn't.
Lily's voice was a whisper.
{It Was Heads}
"Arthur... do you believe in reincarnation?"
A question.
A taunt.
A predator's smile.
A spear pierced.
Arthur screamed, his voice raw with fear, as Emir's grin stretched unnaturally wide.
He was about to die.
And he did.
Again.
And again.
And again.
But each time—just before death—Arthur used a rune.
A rune that sent him back.
A rune so impossibly impossible that its success rate was a statistical anomaly.
But Arthur was a Blessed. A heaven's chosen.
It would be his Last Wish, to live.
And he, as a member of that clan, had luck to do his bidding.
The fortune's wheel hit that number every time.
Each time, he died by Emir's hands.
Each time, he learned more about his abilities.
At first, Emir didn't notice.
By the fifth regression—he did.
"What do you know?"
By the seventh—his suspicion grew.
"How do you know?"
By the eighth—
"Can you see the future?"
By the tenth—
"Is a god helping you?"
And on the twelfth—Arthur slipped.
"You can't be here already... goddammit!"
Emir's eyes sharpened.
"Can't? Already? Do you know the—no, you don't just know... you've experienced it."
Arthur tried everything.
He took hostages.
In some loops, he even hurt Lily.
That was a mistake.
"ARTHUR!"
The world twisted, bent, broke itself for Arthur.
Was he destined?
Or was he simply an error?
Either way. He died. Always.
{Dancing With The Devil}
777 loops.
Every single one—Emir caught on quicker.
Was he regaining his memories too?
Arthur stared at him, chest tight with panic.
"What are you?"
God?
Demon?
His head pounded.
His vision blurred.
His head left his shoulders.
He looked up at the sky—
At the moon.
Ugly.
It was so ugly that night.
{Pride of The Pure}
Arthur was out of options.
Desperate.
So he involved Judas.
They fought where nothing worked.
No neural networks.
No Oracle.
Just skill against skill.
Judas was truly insane.
Laughing, grinning—butchering innocents for fun.
"This is so fun, Emir!"
But not much for longer.
Emir ranked up.
Two requirements were met.
The requirements of his corruption.
He felt it—deep in his core.
And like any stereotypical shonen protagonist, he powered up mid-fight.
Emir killed Judas.
Finally.
{Headless Sun}
Arthur's head rolled into Emir's hands.
He held it, staring.
And then, he spoke to it.
"You know, if we pulled a random guy off the street and told him about our lives, he might wonder why I was so obsessed with killing you."
"Or maybe he'd get it. Maybe he'd see that I was just—letting out my frustrations."
"Because I was made for your story, Arthur."
"But not anymore."
"You fucked up. You gave me a real reason to kill you."
"Thanks."
But then—
A new voice.
A voice made of many.
"I am Solis."
A man with blue eyes.
{Lost From Light}
Ah.
It was him.
Johnson.
The third player.
And just like that—
"Fuck."
It was all over.
{End Of Volume 3: Heads Bathe in the Rising Dusk}@@@@