Chapter 415 For Tomorrow (1/2)
CHAPTER 415
FOR TOMORROW
Silence dominated the open field for a long while after Lino's voice phased out into the destitute wind. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody attacked; thousands of eyes peered into the temporary abyss, seemingly at odds with themselves. It wasn't merely a choice for today to make – but one that would come to define the rest of their lives. If they took a step back today, they would never be able to return, and would forever remain marked as the people who bent to the Empyrean.
Lino didn't seem impatient, standing still by Hannah's side in silence and waiting. He also knew that it wasn't an easy choice to make, which is why he didn't push for it. In the end, it didn't matter to him; he did not doubt that if just a few fell, others would follow as the fear of death far eclipsed the fear of authority.
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”… can you swear to protect us?” a voice hollered out of the masses, its bearer hiding away behind the others, unwilling to step forward.
”I'll swear to do my best,” Lino replied. ”And not to use you as paper-thin shields like he did today.”
”…” there was no reply, but Lino realized he had won – at least however much of a victory this was.
The first splinter soon occurred as those in front of him withdrew their weapons, lowered their heads and slithered sideways, opening up a path. Lino could see bounds of shame and guilt in their eyes and in their expressions. There was no need to question why; after all, every single soul had its own shred of dignity and pride. Selling over from fear of dying was never easy, and it came with its own cost.
It was like the sea splitting open, as though a massive sword descended from heavens and cleaned open a path in the ocean of people. One by one, they began moving sideways, stretching. It was a deafening scene, one that left even Lino somewhat flabbergasted; after all, he was beyond certain there'd still be an occasional drifter, someone unwilling to bend over and surrender. Yet… there was no one. Of the thousands still alive, no one stepped forward to meet him as he and Hannah began walking through the open path.
He dragged the Slayer over the ground, leaving behind a tepid trail, strands of his still-wet hair fluttering in the faintly cold wind. Looking left and right, he searched for the defiant eyes, for the defiant soul to step forward and attack him – but all he got in reply were thousands of hung heads looking at the floor, their bodies quivering. He had no doubt in his mind that some perhaps wished to step forward, to elevate themselves above the tired junction, but, in the end, they didn't. What held them back, he couldn't quite say; fear, perhaps, or guilt, or simply unwillingness to be the first… whatever it was, the path from where he took off to Eight was clear. Empty. Soulless.
Stepping in front of the man, he spotted that he was surrounded by four figures that ascended with him to the sky to meet Lino and Hannah. They all had ugly expressions, their eyes casting gazes of judgment over the masses. Eight, however, didn't. His eyes never left Lino, meeting the latter's gaze squarely. They were oddly hollow, Lino mused; dull, empty, emotionless.
”… you won.” Eight said after a short silence, suddenly taking his mask off. A young, boyish face peered through, a pair of jovial, twilight-eyes seemingly mourning the loss of a beloved one. He held the mask tightly for a moment before letting it go as it fell and crashed onto the ground, cracking and breaking into hundreds of pieces. ”Happy?”
”… happy?” Lino crackled oddly for a moment, pulling the Slayer over and heaving it over his shoulder. ”I'm only happy they came to their senses, rather than upholding the thin veil of loyalty to their graves.”
”So you'd be fine with your own doing the same if the situation is reversed?” Eight asked.
”Whatever flag you uphold, and whatever dream you fight for… in the end, it doesn't matter. You do. Your life does. I can only hope those fighting in my name right now would have made the same choice, rather than throw their life away for an empty cause.”
”… you're a vile creature, Lyonel,” Eight suddenly said, sighing lowly. ”There's no one more dangerous than you, the ascertained soul of chaos emboldened by the fact that the entire world is against him, and everyone is plotting against him, and all the while you only want to coexist peacefully. There's nothing more dangerous than a paranoid mind thinking everything and everyone orbits it.”
”… of course I'm vile.” Lino said emptily. ”I just mowed my way through a herd of innocent to come face to face with you. I could have arrived here just the same without hurting anyone, but I made a conscious choice to vent on them. What does that tell you about me, huh?”
”….” Eight remained silent, his expression growing somewhat angrier.
”It tells me one thing,” Lino continued, slowly beginning to walk forward. ”And it's that I'm willing to do anything and everything, consequences be damned, if I feel like it. I've abandoned my moral inhibitions a long time ago, Eight,” he added as he stopped in front Eight, merely a few inches away. ”I've merely upheld a façade so long as it brought people over to my side. But, well, that can no longer happen, now can it?” he cracked a smile, placing his free hand over onto Eight's shoulder, pressing it tightly till the bone cracked. Eight cried lowly for a moment, yet remained standing. ”If I were you, I'd die smiling. After all, at the very least you won't have to die witnessing me carving out this world's innards and creating a mountain of corpses while at it.”