4 A Bitter Reality

"Eck!" I gasped in pain as I covered my torn thighs with both of my hands. But, it was not enough to suppress the large bleed even for a margin. 

My breathing became ragged while my gaze became blurry. As I tried to maintain eye contact with the man sitting in the hallway, behind the position where the wall used to be at.

"Trombe, " I softly whispered. Gazing at the man with hazy eyes. 

He wore a long tattered grey coloured trench coat that Lou covers from his torso until his wrists and feet. With grey long wavy hair which reaches the back of his neck. If he were to stand up, he might be taller than me. 

There is no evidence needed to prove that this man here, might have the intention of taking my life. My torn left lower leg explained more than enough for someone else to understand. 

"Drats... Trombe didn't form..., " I dread at the thought. 

So, I could not relax at the moment because the doorstep to hell is near. Yet, there is only little of what I could do for this situation. 

There is no other choice than to force myself to manifest my companion, Trombe. 

"Tuack!" I suddenly vomited the water I drank. The hideous liquid mixed with red liquid. 

I feel weak from blood loss...

The man approaches with slow steps. Taking his time on his way to me with his humanoid figure following behind. 

His blue eyes exuding a mysterious hue. I could not vaguely discern his real intention behind his glare. But, I know for sure he seems to be unfriendly in a bunch. 

His right-hand balls into a fist before he reels it. In an attempt to deliver a punch. 

My guts forced my left arm in a reflex to block it, but the unexpected happened.

"You're forcing yourself too much, " The man said with a monotone voice as he grabs onto my wrist. It was a soft grip as if the punch was just a feint. 

I was in a daze. His words do not match my first grim impression of him, "could you repeat that for me?"

"I dislike it when someone asks me to repeat the same stuff. " He sighs before grabbing my other wrist and pulls it away from my torn thighs. 

His humanoid figure moves both of its slimy looking hands and applied pressure on my large injury. It was not rough, instead, it felt soft. 

"I said 'You're pushing yourself too much'... The same goes for other people these days. Working so much with only little in return. " 

"Did you come to help me? If so, why did you cut off my lower leg?" I asked. Confused about his previous actions. 

"Don't misunderstand me... " 

"I came here to kill you, " He continued with no changes in his tone. Seeming to be expert in controlling his emotions. Which shook my spine in fear. 

"Why don't you kill me now? This is the perfect timing to do so, " I continued to ask while shoving the fear down in my throat. Gambling with my own life on the line. 

The man chuckled in response. 

"Ah, I forgot to mention that I hate fighting dying people... and you reminded me of someone, " His eyes narrowed in reminiscent of something for a moment. But he shook it off by shaking his head. 

The last bits of his words are inaudible. I could only hear the word 'someone'. 

Someone? Does he have someone waiting for him? Best I ask later. Now, I should be sating my deep curiosity. 

"Then, what about my leg?"

"It's to show you how far you are from the truth. The fact that you're still weak even though you have a 'Spectrum'. "

I looked away from his gaze with a sour expression. His words were the equivalent of a slap on the face. But, I could deny the fact and accept it with denial. 

It took me a few seconds to notice a new word he spoke. Specifically, the word 'Spectrum'.

"Spectrum? What is that?" 

"It is the extension of one's consciousness and will which manifests from the heart of an individual. This ability, only the Spectra race can perform it. For example, like my friend 'Dirty Eyes' here, " He explained and pointed to his humanoid figure. While I tried to wrap my head around the new information. 

That clears things up with the matter of my heart rate related to Trombe. 

"That means, you're from the Spectra race too? Like me?" I asked with surprise. 

"As a matter of fact, no. I have one horn on my forehead and a tall body, I'm from the Oni Race. "

I was bewildered. One of his answers contradicts with the other. This felt idiotic, or is it I do not understand it? Or is it his intention to make me feel more curious than before? 

"Then, what is my origin? Other than Spectra race..., " Impatient to over my voice. The need for an explanation, growing inside my mind. 

"That, I cannot answer, nor you're qualified in knowing so. "

"I'm not weak..."

"Oh? Then, try to bring out your Spectrum 'Trombe'. The name you kept shouting, " He said and released my wrists. 

I grit my teeth in frustrations. This man knew that I could not manifest Trombe, and yet, he told me to do so. As if he was mocking me for my weakness. 

"..... "

"And no, I'm not mocking you. I want you to be able to develop a strong mind to swallow the bitterness of truth..., " He clarified, as I glance back to him with distrust. 

"When you're strong enough then, you could survive all that fate can throw at you, except death. No one could escape death. "

The major side effects of heavy blood loss took place. I could feel my gaze becoming hazy. My body became heavier than before. 

The man stood up and walked away into the hallway. Turning his back on me and recalls 'Dirty Eyes' back to himself, "The name is Luka... If you want more answers... Then, find me, and defeat me. "

I held onto my head. My body became too weak to support my weight as I lied on the floor. Trying to reach out to the man, Luka. As if I was a lost child in a park, left by his parents.

"Then, who am I?" I asked one last question while grabbing to a thin thread of my consciousness. As lights flickering over my vision. 

"That is... If you survive this death game. "