Simulation Final Part: I'll be Waiting at the Finish Line

AN: Hey y'all sorry for going a-wall for a little while there, I had finals, still missing one more, but I'm more relaxed and free so I decided to finish this chapter. Regular uploading schedule MAY be back, if not this week then the next. Anyway, enjoy, I had a blast writing the latter half of this chapter and a headache writing the first half. Also, I want to start a trend that I noticed the goat @AlienWarlord has implemented ages ago on his fanfics to allow this story to gain more traction cuz I want everyone to enjoy my work! Go check him out, he writes great fics.

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Insert Knight GIFS/PICS here - Most likes wins 😀(A/N: Only TWO Entrees Per Person!) Winner(s) will be announced in the next chapter.

*First Person POV*

I felt the energy and focus I had been able to maintain throughout the fight drain from me and I started to recollect my thoughts and reflect on something. Just now, while I had been connected to Barbatos, I had felt a thirst for killing, no not quite for killing, but something related to it. It was something that I had never felt before. 

Well, I guess I had felt something similar to it when Ghost and I had been ambushed during that one escort mission we took and when we eradicated the Tiger Claws, the thirst to reap, to bring the souls of men to judgment, the thirst to base in evil's blood. But I didn't feel it when I was fighting that first group of mechs, or when I fought that one Tier 2 Parallax. 

But putting that aside, there was something so… refreshing about this feeling. And that's what concerned me.

This is not who I am, who I was. I had thought life precious except that of those who touched children, or those who overall were a nuisance to society with their actions that showed a lack of concern for human life. 

But Just now, I reveled in the death of my opponents, though they weren't real, I lost myself in a trance of destruction and pure unfiltered focus toward achieving one goal: To kill.

"Jarvis, I want to know why I'm changing, what's going on with my mind?" I asked in my head. "Is it a way to adapt to this world? Or am I just going insane and turning into a true Psycho?"

"Host," Jarvis began, pausing for a second, "the question you're asking is in relation to souls—a topic both simple and infinitely complex. They are the essence of existence itself, the threads that weave the fabric of life. To try to fully define them would be like trying to contain the ocean in a single sippy cup."

I frowned, frustration creeping into my mind. "I don't need a poetic answer, Jarvis. I need to know what's happening to me. What is this thirst, this... satisfaction I get when I kill? Why does it feel like I'm drinking the finest, coldest water in a desert after days without?"

Jarvis didn't respond for a moment, and when it did, the tone of its words felt direct. "I guess one can say that it is due to your purpose, Host. You are crowned the Reaper of God. Your role, your very essence, is tied to judgment. To bringing retribution to those whose hands are stained with the blood of innocents."

Jarvis paused for a second, as if in contemplation. "When you carry out this duty, especially against the truly wicked, it resonates with your soul, fulfilling a need deeper than the physical or emotional. It is not madness—it is the satiation of your nature, your new nature."

As those words started to sink into my mind, I felt my hands subconsciously grip Barbatos' controls even tighter. "So, every time I kill someone, someone wicked and deserving of death, it feels... refreshing? Just because I'm fulfilling my end of the deal? Doing my job? It's just God going 'Here you go son, feel good because you've just done some fucked up shit and went against your beliefs because I told you to do so'?"

"In a sense, yes," Jarvis confirmed, his voice steady. "Think of it as a perk of the job. It is akin to quenching a desperate thirst or tasting ice-cold sprite after wandering for days in the heat. This feeling is not random. It is your soul aligning with the purpose which it was recently granted. Your role as Reaper is being fulfilled." 

"Every kill you personally make, especially when you get rid of those whose hands are tainted by the blood of the innocent, your soul is strengthened. This growth is not something you can perceive directly, but it happens nonetheless, bit by bit."

I exhaled as my mind flooded with questions. "My soul grows stronger? For what purpose? And is there no way to stop that feeling? I don't want to go nuts killing people, no matter how wicked, just because it feels good."

"Yes, Host, your soul grows stronger. As for why… I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you… not yet at least." Jarvis replied, its words making my mind race as I felt my heart skip a beat at this new revelation. "As for stopping it? Don't even bother, it is not something you can hope to halt, but it is something you can come to control."

"Once you come to control that feeling, to not get lost in it, so drunk on power you black out, things may be revealed to you. Other than that, you will always feel it now that you've finally taken notice of it, that refreshing clarity, every single time you deliver judgment."

I leaned back in my seat, staring at the HUD in front of me. "Great," I muttered, sarcasm dripping from my tone. "So, I'm stuck with this... hunger for blood forever?"

"Host, Hunger would be the wrong term," Jarvis corrected. "It is a fulfillment of your role, not a compulsion. The balance of it lies in your hands. You are not destined to revel in slaughter for its own sake but to deliver judgment where it is needed. You will always feel satisfaction when doing so."

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of Jarvis' words pressing down on me. The memory of the fight, the rush, the euphoria—it was still fresh, lingering like the aftertaste of something too sweet.

"I don't know if I can keep it under control," I admitted.

"You can," Jarvis assured me. "The power does not own you. You wield it. You are still you, Host. The Reaper may be your title, your destiny, but it does not define your humanity. That is yours to preserve."

I nodded slowly, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed him. The lines between who I was and what I was becoming were already starting to blur. Suddenly the memory of Autumn telling me to not lose my humanity popped into my head. They brought a bittersweet feeling with them.

Jarvis's words cut through my thoughts, feeling calm yet tinged with a rare note of empathy. "Host, this is why you felt so distraught when you killed that teenage girl."

I froze and my mind going blank as I felt the memory of Autumn fade and the other memory slam into me like a freight train. Her face—not much older than a kid's, still in her early teens—flashed in my mind, her desperation, her fury. I had crushed her mech and killed all her friends before saving her and coming to that point. I know this is a simulation, yet everything feels so… real…

"Jarvis, no," I thought firmly in my head, but it was to no avail.

"She was piloting a mech," Jarvis continued, "could definitely be considered a combatant. But she was still innocent. Her hands were not stained with the blood of others. Her actions were driven by anger and a twisted sense of justice, not malice or evil. And your soul—your purpose—knew that. That's why you hesitated. That's why something inside you told you to wait."

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. "Jarvis, don't."

The tone of Jarvis's words felt softer, a rare note of understanding was laced in its usually clinical tone. "You stopped. You destroyed her mech, but you gave her the chance to escape it. You tried to apologize. You tried to calm her down. You hesitated for a reason, even when her actions warranted a defensive response. But her attempt to shoot you… it triggered your reflexes."

I felt a tear start to form on my left eye as my vision started to go blurry, my lips quivering and the breath in my lungs felt trapped. Without noticing, I was back at the scene of it all, the girl laying on the ground after I shoved her away from me.

"That moment," 

"No, stop." I called out to the girl who was moving in slow motion in my eyes.

"When her weapon came up—"

"Don't you fucking do it," I said, this time to myself as if I was ordering myself not to. But my body refused to listen as I watched the girl raise a gun and fire.

"Your instincts, your body's instincts, honed by survival and battle, took over. Reflexes you have yet to learn to fully control."

I could only watch as the bullet slowly flew to me and hit me in the head forcing my body to move. I tried with all my strength to lower my arm which was quickly rising. "Fuckign stop, damn it."

"You reacted."

I could feel myself slowly squeeze the trigger as a single bullet flew out of my pistol.

"And the shot struck true…"

I watched the bullet fly towards her and hit her right in the chest, where her heart would be.

"Right through her heart. It was not intentional, Host,"

All of a sudden I was back in Barbatos' cockpit.

"But it happened because you are still learning to master your new role. That does not absolve the guilt, nor should it. It simply means you must grow from it."

I stared blankly at my HUD and then down at my shaking hands. "She was scared," I said quietly, my voice cracking. "She wanted justice for the ones I'd just killed. And I—"

"You reacted," Jarvis's words in my mind interrupted my words gently. "Not out of malice, but out of instinct. Host, you are not infallible, no matter your title. This is why you must strive to learn control, to temper your reflexes with clarity. That is the reason behind your increased focus whenever you enact your purpose. It demands precision, and that is why you are in such a focused state, though the refreshment comes from enacting your role. The focus is necessary, the refreshment a reward, a way to come to peace with your actions."

"Creator, who are you speaking with?"Barbatos questioned, its voice seeming distant as I just promptly ignored it and continued.

"Precision…" I whispered, my throat dry. "How am I supposed to be precise in my actions when everything about this role—this feeling—pulls me toward killing blindly?"

"By understanding your purpose," Jarvis's words felt firm as if stating a fact. "You are not a tool of destruction, Host. You are judgment, not vengeance. Every soul you send to the Judge of all teaches you, sharpens your instincts. But this is a journey, and it will take time."

I closed my eyes, the weight of its words settling over me. "And her, that kid?"

"She will forever act as a reminder," Jarvis affirmed.

"A reminder?" I questioned.

"Yes, Host. A reminder of what happens when instinct overtakes purpose. Of the cost of haste. But also of the chance to grow beyond it."

As the words sunk into my mind, into my soul, I felt myself start to take in my surroundings once again. The cockpit was silent except for the soft hum of Barbatos's systems. I leaned back, exhaustion creeping into my bones as I took in my surroundings on the outside. Just a graveyard of mechs.

I had tried to to the right thing, I had hesitated. But in the end, my reflexes, the one thing that had kept me alive in multiple scenarios had betrayed me. Maybe this focus would be a way fro em to overcome my instics, or to use them while maintaining rationale. If what Jarvis said was true, then that guilt was a part of the thorny path I was destined to walk barefoot. A reminder of the responsibility I carried and the price of failure.

"Though this is a simulation and I'm grateful I didn't do the thing I have done here in the real world, I'll keep my actions as a marker and I'll do better," I muttered, more to myself than to Jarvis.

"A simulation… yes. Don't worry Host, I'm certain you will," Jarvis replied. "All in its due time. You live and learn."

"One last thing." I wondered, this time in my mind. "Why did the thirst for blood feel stronger now, when I was fighting this group of mechs and not when I was fighting the first group or when fighting the Tier 2 Parallax?"

"Well Host, you do the math. You destroy a group fighting for freedom from the federation, one fighting for a just cause, an innocent dream, and kill a grandfather trying to avenge his granddaughter. And then you fight a platoon from the Federation, a side that's used to killing and oppressing the innocents. It's not rocket science, though I'm sure that'd give you no trouble."

Right, I guess that makes sense. "Wait, um, why is this something I'm experiencing in a simulation? I understand the real world, but a simulation?"

"Yes, these… simulations… they have real-world impacts for pilots, why wouldn't there be any for your soul as well?"

Well shit, can't argue with that logic. But why did it keep on pausing when talking about the simulation? Maybe, it was just thinking of a way to Best answer.

*AN: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

I pushed the thoughts in my head aside and just went on with giving Barbatos a route to guide us as I took a look at the systems and its energy levels. 

Everything seemed good with Barbatos' energy levels having only dropped 10% during that entire ordeal and were starting to climb by half a percent every minute. The dual Rakshasa reactors were working just dandy.

---

And just like that, the next 2 and a half weeks went by in the blink of an eye. I was able to get into more confrontations, fought in larger skirmishes, and ended up joining up with the Resistance. Crazy, I know.

The next day after my fight, I came across a fight between the Resistance and the Federation where a battalion of about 40 Federation mechs had a platoon of about 13 Resistance mechs pinned behind what appeared to be the remains of a giant satellite or a very small space station. I made use of their distraction, the sounds of gunfire, and the help of my focus to make quick work through their ranks. 

They would have been too distracted to notice my energy signature on their radars. That is, if they were even online. Surprisingly enough, the Swiss Cheese of a Warlock that was left somehow still had its radar disruptors in perfect working condition. So I just hooked that baby up to Barbatos and used and abused it.

The Federation's forces didn't even know what had hit them until it was too late. By then, they had already lost 17 Tier 1 mechs and 3 Tier 2 mechs to my deadly claws and spear, as I had chosen to rush in rather than pick my targets off one by one due to the fact that I only had 3 magazines left for the Sniper rifle I had taken off of the corpse of one of the Tier 2 Parallaxes I had fought.

Anyway, by the time the Federation forces took notice and tried to respond to my threat, I had made my way to their commander, a Tier 2 Sentinel that was standing proudly in the middle of the battlefield, I used it as cover, deciding to finally take out my sniper rifle and make quick work of another 5 Tier 2 mechs and another 11 Tier 1 mechs. 

I had aimed for the Knights and Parallaxes first, leaving only 4 Tier 2 Rakshasas which had the misfortune of getting ganged up on by the 13 very pissed-off Resistance mechs, 3 of which were Tier 2 Rakshasa, 2 Tier 2 Parallaxes, and the rest Tier 1 Knights.

While they were being dealt with, their commander was pissing his pants in his Tier 2 Sentinel as I gave it a single kick to the back that sent it sprawling to the ground. I was standing over it with my spear in my hands when the commander proposed a ceasefire and to surrender through the open comms.

At the sound of his words, I heard the gunfire stop momentarily and turned Barbatos to look at the others. They were all damaged, to an extent, but the Federation was definitely worse off. One of the Federation Rakshasa Pilots protested and tried to open fire on me, only for my shields to deflect its shots. 

I calmly grasped my spear and used 5% of my energy reserved to launched it at Mach Jesus cleanly through its damaged cockpit, sending the battlefield into an eerie silence once again. I looked down at the sentinel and allowed it to stand before escorting it to the rest of the mechs. Once there, all the Federation Pilots left their mechs and we didn't have to wait long before Resistance reinforcements came barreling from the treeline.

I was sitting with my cockpit open, enjoying a snack to the side as Barbatos held the spear with the bottom of its shaft on the ground, as a silent sentinel. It took a little while for their lead command to come up to me and ask me some questions. 

Who I was? Reaper. What did I go by? Reaper. Who was I fighting for? Whichever side isn't killing innocents. Do I want to join them? Sure. You know, run of the mill questions. From then on I joined them and their conquest to try to liberate themselves of the oppressive Federation forces little by little.

I was provided with some paint and went with the same color scheme I had given BT. Through the fights, I became known as the "Reaper of the Damned" and as "Is that the fucking merc?" One of these nicknames was given to me by the Resistance, and the other by the Federation. My appearance on the battlefield alone would boost the morale of the Resistance and plummet that of the Federation's forces. 

The Commander of the Resistance, Ray Gillian, a Gamma level pilot piloting a Tier 3 Sentinel, had become impressed with my work and personally asked me if I wanted to accompany him to strike Federation outposts. I don't know who the man thought I was for him to be asking such things of me, of course I was down to do it.

And like that, my time in this simulation flew as I gained experience and a new mastery over piloting mechs as well as learning new strategies. 

I now sat on Barbatos' shoulder with a hot coffee in my hand watching the sunset on this cold-snowy field. It was a beautiful mixture of red with yellow. 

"Man, too bad I couldn't come across Simon once again. This sight, though not real, is too beautiful to not share with someone…" I said to myself. I hadn't had the fortune of crossing paths with Ghost again, but I had heard of him from some of the Federation information we had gathered when striking some of their outposts. 

He had come to be named "The Ghost of Verdum," the fucker had settled down in a city about 3000 clicks west of me and had managed to scare teh Federation enough that any patrols or excursions to the city of Verdum had been canceled.

I had come to learn many secrets too. Secrets in relation to the simulation that I'm surprised I hadn't caught on to before with all the hints Jarvis was giving me. Suffice it to say, there will be things I will definitely have to learn to live with.

On the top right of my vision, I could see a countdown in red: 30. 29. 28. 27. 26.  

*Third Person POV*

Aspen took a sip of his coffee and stared at the setting sun. "I bet Autumn would've loved it…" He said as he thought of the woman he had finally managed to get a date with before he had gotten sent over to this universe. "20 Seconds left… Barbatos, Active Protocols Guardian Angel and Of These Chains, I'm Free."

"Yes, Creator, Activating Protocols Now. Time to completion: 15 seconds," Barbatos Replied in his human-like voice.

Aspen sighed as he took another sip of his coffee, "Make sure you show them my recording as well."

"Yes… Creator."

As this was going on, Ray's mech was making its way to Aspen accompanied by his second in command. A woman with purple hair Piloting a Tier 2 Reaper she had stolen when she defected the Federation.

As they were drawing near to Aspen they noticed him drop his coffee on his lap and them slip off to the ground. The two felt something was off and five seconds later, they watched Aspen's body slowly lean forward before slipping off of his mech's shoulder and plummet to the snow-covered ground.

"All pilots to battle station, I think we're under attack. Reaper is down! I repeat our Reaper is down!" Ray called out through his comms to the pilots of their makeshift base, all 72 of them. Within seconds, 60 tier 1 and 2 mechs of different classes powered on as their pilots all got into battle stations, ready to fight off an ambush as women, men, children, and the elderly all ran fro cover.

Once Ray and his second in command got to Aspen, they noticed that there was no blood to be seen anywhere. Ray brought his mech down to get a closer look but felt his mech be stopped by a firm grip. He looked up and saw Barabatos' arm extended and holding him out. 

"My Creator… he said that he will meet us at the finish line… He has left a message for you, Commander Ray Gillian." Barbatos' cold but human-like voice cut through the tension. Ray's second in command tried to swing on Barbatos but it simply dodged its head and gripped her mech's hand.

Then a video message appeared on Ray's HUD and he ordered his second in command to stand down.

"Hey Ray… I know my… death, may come as a surprise to you, to everyone. Unfortunately, my time in this plane of existence was… limited. It was limited from the start. 

You know, I did some fucked up things before I opened my eyes and came to join you are your lot. I- I killed a kid out of pure reaction, decimated a Resistance Platoon, and the man who came to avenge his granddaughter all for my selfish reasons. All before I knew what I was doing… but I guess you wouldn't understand or believe what I mean by that. By the time I joined you lot, I had changed, if you can believe it.

But even then, I knew my time was limited, I just didn't know… I just didn't know just how limited it was, truly. I thought I would be able to fight with you all till the end, but… guess things just weren't meant to be. I learned of the impact my actions would have in this world.

So I leave to you Barbatos, the AI of my mech that is currently piloting its frame. Not to brag, but I'm sure it could even bring your Tier 3 sentinel to its knees while still being a Tier 2. Hahaha… Oh man, to this day, it is my proudest creation.

I activated 2 Protocols on it and you can speak to him about any questions you have, but just know that he will fight by your side. I don't recommend assigning a pilot to Barbatos, but if you do, make sure they are of Gamma or higher Pilot level.

You may show the following to everyone at camp… Don't be saddened, I may no longer be walking the walk with you, but I sure as hell will be waiting for you all at the finish line… Reaper out." With that, Aspen's image crossed his arms across his chest in the form of a salute resembling that of Wakanda's which was replicated by Ray whose eyes had started to tear up.

---

The Federation's defeat spanned two decades, a grueling and transformative period marked by sacrifice, unity, and technological breakthroughs fueled by desperation. Aspen's departure became a rallying cry, his final message inspiring the resistance to take up arms with renewed purpose. His mech, Barbatos, became a mythic figure in the war—a guardian angel and an unstoppable force that led the charge against the oppressive Federation.

The first 5 years following Aspen's death were chaotic. The resistance's forces were fragmented and under constant siege, yet they somehow managed to rally under Commander Ray Gillian's leadership. Barbatos, operating autonomously but communicating frequently with Ray, proved instrumental in ambush tactics and targeted strikes against key Federation Outposts and bases.

Barbatos' protocols, particularly "Guardian Angel" and "Of These Chains, I'm Free," allowed it to predict enemy movements and liberate prisoner camps. Entire battalions of Federation forces were obliterated in precision strikes, while captured civilians were freed and armed. Ray and his second-in-command, now a celebrated figure known as Commander Emilia, began uniting splintered resistance factions, consolidating their power and resources.

The Federation's tier 3 mechs, once considered invincible, were systematically dismantled by Barbatos. The AI's algorithms and Aspen's final protocol allowed it to evolve itself and its frame. Its superior firepower turned these engagements into psychological blows for the Federation who still beleived the legen of "That Fucking Merc" was the one attacking them.

Over the next 6-7 years, the resistance transitioned from guerrilla warfare to more organized, large-scale battles. The reverse-engineering of Federation tech, combined with Barbatos' insights, allowed the resistance to produce Tier 1.5 and 2.5 Santos-class mechs—a hybrid design based off of Barbato's initial frame that incorporated superior maneuverability and firepower and allowed them to fight against higher-tiered opponents without the requirement of a higher piloting class. (For example, Tier 1.5 Santos Vs any Tier 2, Tier 1.5 Santos mechs would win.)

Ray Gillian's leadership evolved into statesmanship as liberated regions formed the Slatvian Confederation, a unified body with a shared goal: dismantling the Federation. Emilia spearheaded covert operations deep within enemy territory, sabotaging supply lines and seeding dissent among Federation soldiers.

The Federation was starting to stretch and its leaders in their home planet were starting to have doubts on the continuation of the war for a mining planet. As entire regions declared independence from the Federation, stories of Aspen's horrifying fighting style and of Barbatos' heroics spread like wildfire.

Over the course of the next 5 years, a newly constructed Tier 3.5 Santos class mech became Barbatos' new frame. It had been based off the same design its creator had given it after Barbatos refused anything else believing his creator's first design to be PERFECT. Barbatos then used a backup code Aspen had created just for him to not be left alone after Aspen's departure and it was also given the same frame as Barbatos, but in a sleek silver. 

It was named Thanatos and it became a second spearhead for the resistance. The duo of Barbatos and Thanatos, paired with Ray and Emilia, dismantled the Federation's strongholds.

Massive battles unfolded in snow-covered cities, sprawling deserts, and dense urban centers. The Federation's mechs were simply outmatched by the resistance. Barbatos' "Guardian Angel" protocol saved countless lives, earning it near-reverent status among the resistance fighters.

Key figures within the Federation began defecting, bringing with them critical intel and further weakening the regime, while others escaped off-planet and back to other Federation controlled planets.

By the 5th year, the resistance captured the Federation's central AI hub, effectively neutralizing their command structure, before storming the Federation's capital on the planet, delivering a decisive blow that signaled the end of their rule as the Federation finally gave up, having deemed the war too expensive to continue and claiming they had gotten what they wanted from the planet.

The next 2 years after the Federation's defeat was filled with reconstruction as the Slatvian Confederation turned its focus to restoring their planet. The key resistance's mechs that had been too damaged were considered symbols of both liberation and destruction. They were gradually decommissioned and transformed into monuments, one by one. Other mechs were dismantled, their components repurposed for civilian infrastructure.

Barbatos, however, remained intact. It requested to oversee the construction of Aspen's memorial, ensuring every detail honored its creator. In the heart of a snow-covered advanced city, a massive statue was erected: a 100-meter monument of Aspen sitting on Barbatos' shoulder at a symbolic finish line. The sculpture captured Aspen's quiet resolve, with one hand holding a coffee cup and the other resting on his knee.

The finish line stretched across the plaza, symbolizing the journey of liberation. Behind the statue, smaller sculptures depicted resistance mechs gradually transforming into human figures, representing the return to humanity and peace. At the forefront stood Ray, rendered in his mech's cockpit, with Barbatos' towering form beside him, a shield raised in eternal vigilance.

Next to the statue of Barbatos and Apsen lay a gravestone engraved with the words:

"Here lies Aspen Del Santo, The Reaper of the Damned. Now we realize the finish line was only the beginning."

Each year, on the anniversary of the Federation's fall, thousands gather at the plaza. Former resistance fighters, their children, and the liberated citizens of Slatvia pay their respects. Barbatos remains active, now a sentinel of peace, guiding the next generation and helping the planet develop its technology. He was ensured his Creator's final Protocol. Of his chains, he was free, no longer an AI bound by code, but a feeling, thinking, free being.

Ray, now the leader of the planet, walked to Aspen's grave, holding Emilia's hand as three children, 2 boys and 1 girl, ran around them. Once at Aspen's grave, Ray groaned as he kneeled and then sat by it, Emilia replicating his actions. 

"Old friend, forgive me for taking so long to visit you. Just you know how things are, politics and all... Man, its been a long time. I know we only knew each other briefly, but those days, man it felt like talking to you was equal to talking to a brother." Ray said as he sighed. "Emilia and I got married, we got kids now too, you wouldn't believe it if you saw it. We accomplished freedom, and to be honest, it all thanks to Barbatos."

"Honey, he would've been so happy to see us, to see this place today and the children. His actions with Barbatos were what allowed us to live to tell our tale today." Emilia said as she leaned her head on Ray's shoulder.

Their kids, running and laughing came to a sudden stop in front of them as the streets turned offly quiet and murmurs started spreading. 

"Momma, papa, that man looks like the Reaper," said the little girl as she pointed behind Ray and Emilia.

"He is so cool," said one of the boys.

"Totally," said the other.

As Ray and Emilia turned to see they heard a voice from behind them call out. "I told you I'd see you at the finnish line."

For just a split second, Ray could have sworn he saw Aspen smirking at him but the figure turned away before he could fully notice.

*THUD* *THUD* *THUD* *THUD*

"CREEEAAAATTOOOORRR!!" Heavy footsteps accompanied by Barbatos' voice broke the murmurs in the plaza as everyone stared in awe at Barabato's frame sprinting towards the man who was walking away. 

"Little one, you're finally here. You have a lot to tell me," the man said as he kept walking, and just as Barbatos reached him they both disappeared.

Word Count: 5320 Words 👏

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