Joy [ II ]

Lucas stood there, panting heavily, blood still coating his hands, his legs trembling with fatigue. "Who the hell are you?" he finally asked, his voice shaky.

Nyx didn't bother with a long explanation. "Talk later." His tone was calm, almost indifferent. He turned, walking away from the chaos. "For now, let's go."

Lucas hesitated, glancing back at the screams and panic. "What about everyone else?" he asked, unsure.

Nyx's response was ice-cold. "What do you want to do about them?"

Stunned by the harshness in Nyx's words, Lucas stammered, "No… nothing." He swallowed the knot in his throat and followed.

A short while later, the two were far from the crowd, the sounds of destruction fading behind them. Lucas kept a cautious distance, his mind racing. 'He doesn't care about anyone. How can I be sure I'm not walking into my own grave with this guy?'

He looked at Nyx's back, his expression tense. 'Screw it. I'd be dead if it weren't for him. If I'm going to die, it's better to die later than now.' He puffed his chest, trying to feel more confident.

Nyx, without turning, spoke in a low voice. "Wise choice."

Lucas froze. 'Wait… what? Can he read my mind?' A cold sweat ran down his back. 'This is like someone seeing my search history…'

They continued in silence until they met up with Viktor. Nyx, still wearing his mask of emptiness, turned to Lucas. "What do you think, Lucas?"

"Think of what? Wait… how do you know my name!?" Lucas responded, eyes wide.

Nyx's tone was flat. "Think about what happened at the shelter."

Lucas swallowed hard. 'If he can read my mind, he must already know what I'm thinking. There's got to be limits, but what are they?' He thought for a moment, then decided, 'I should probably just tell the truth, in case he figures it out.'

He smirked slightly, despite the tension. "I thought it was fun."

Nyx paused, his cold eyes staring through his mask. "Fun… huh..." He seemed to be reminded of something—his own enjoyment of the chaos in this ruined world. "Join me, Lucas."

Lucas scratched the back of his head, closing his eyes. "Well, you saved my life, so I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Nyx's voice cut in, sharp. "Not because I saved you. Join me for the fun of it. Your whole self."

Lucas opened his eyes, shocked. "Well… now I can't refuse, can I?" He looked at Nyx, then the sky, the scarlet sun setting in the distance. 'Life as a janitor is over. I wonder what kind of fun is waiting for me now.' He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"I greet you, Master." Lucas said with a playful bow.

Before Nyx could respond, Viktor cut in. "Not Master. Lord!" His tone was stern, irritated by Lucas's casualness.

Lucas turned to Viktor, squinting as if trying to peer through the demon mask. "And what's your name?"

"It's Viktor," Viktor responded flatly.

"And what should I call the Lord?" Lucas asked with a teasing grin.

Nyx, tired of the theatrics, slowly removed his mask, revealing his face. "It's Nyx," he said calmly.

Lucas blinked in surprise. "Oh… you're young!" He rubbed his chin, impressed. "So should I call you Young Lord Nyx?"

Before Nyx could respond, Viktor barked, "It's Lord! Just Lord!" His irritation grew.

Nyx waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay, Viktor."

Viktor nodded, briefly humbled, but still visibly annoyed.

As the trio began walking away into the distance, Lucas, ever the joker, glanced at Viktor. "By the way, how do you look under the mask, Viky?" He smirked, clearly teasing.

Viktor scowled. "It's Viktor."

Quick as lightning, Lucas snatched Viktor's mask off his face.

"What the—!" Viktor growled, but before he could react, Lucas burst out laughing.

"You're an old man!" Lucas howled, unable to contain himself.

Viktor, his face stern and weathered, crossed his arms and smirked back. "Look who's talking." He scoffed, clearly unimpressed by Lucas's teasing.

"Hey, I'm only 27," Lucas shot back with mock indignation, grinning.

And as the banter continued, the trio—Nyx, Viktor, and Lucas—walked further into the fading light, the chaos of the world behind them, yet somehow waiting for them just ahead.