We Meet Again (2)

BOOM!

The wall shattered with a booming sound. Glass, stone, and wood, all bounced off the surfaces like rain as the ominous figure shot forward. 

'What…'

The dust filled the air like smoke. Through its midst, that same annoying Awakened stood and directed his gaze at Hope, his sword gleaming with an unnatural sheen—in which Hope had barely dodged in time for the crash. Of course, without being unscathed first.

'...the hell?'

"Cough! Cough!"

Hope coughed as he crouched on the other side of the room.

He narrowed his eyes as he recognized the white mask and hood.

There was no doubt about it.

'This damn guy.'

Memories quickly flashed from the fight they had toward each other…and then together up against the Awakened Demon. From enemies to short-term comrades, to enemies again. 

"Tsk!"

This was certainly a stubborn Awakened. 

'Fucking hell–' 

Hope couldn't figure this guy out!

First, how the hell did this guy dodge all the traps out there? If he met the tech Awakened then maybe he was shown a map of the traps around here that Hope could only assume. But what damn Aspect did the guy even have to track him so easily? Was it really to see through walls? Whatever the case may be, why come after Hope with a sudden bang?!

Annoyance pulled at Hope as he stood, tightening his grip on the [Ashen Shield], its battered surface reflecting the light seeping through the cracked walls.

One thing Hope had to question, whether the Awakened sensed him from afar or not, did Hope's damn Attributes play a role for the Awakened to act this murderously towards him?

'Are my odds that fucking bad?'

What was the correct response to this anyway?

'Attack…' 

!!!

Swssh!

As if in synchronized thought, without any further questioning, both lunged towards each other.

Kwang!

And with the Awakened striking first, a downward slash hissed through the air before Hope blocked it with his shield. And from it, their battle ring sang out.

At that moment, the room was bathed in the last glow of sunset, the shadows stretching like clawed hands over the cracked walls and splintered furniture. Dust swirled in the air with each of their movements, catching faint glints of light from blade and shield.

Hope then quickly dropped to one knee.

The blade sliced through the empty space above him. Hope tried to take the opportunity to thrust his shield, but the Awakened parried.

Hope wasn't fast enough.

This confined setting left no room for fancy footwork either. Every movement crashed against overturned furniture and jagged remnants on the walls. Hope had to acknowledge that fact. He had to acknowledge all obstacles before him.

What did it matter if things seemed impossible? There was no room for faltering either.

Tang! Tang! Tang!

The clash of steel rang out.

Metal screeching against the other. 

The Awakened swung again, a feint turning into a stabbing lunge.

Hope raised his shield, and sparks flew as the blade scraped the surface.

'Adapt…'

Kwang! Kwa–

'Adapt. Adapt. Adapt.'

The masked figure slid to Hope's right and suddenly charged forward. Hope braced himself, but the force of the attack drove him back into a crumbling wall, leaving his breath labored.

"Huff! Huff…!"

Hope could slightly catch up, but the strength wasn't matched. Obviously. Maybe if he could pull a surprise attack, but Hope couldn't find the opening for that.

Kwang!

The confined space grew more chaotic than it was before—glass shards from the remaining windows crunched beneath their feet. The floor groaning under their weight. 

The familiar ache returning in Hope's arms from each reverberation and strike with each parry. 

Fwssh!

The Awakened's sword then came down, an arc aiming for Hope's shoulder.

Hope sidestepped. The whisper of the blade blew past him before Hope followed with a jab of his own. 

But whether the Awakened was surprised or not under the mask, Hope heard a faint grunt before the Awakened twisted with uncanny speed and made another counter.

Kwangangang!

With each passing moment, Hope's eyes glazed over the longer they fought. Which seemed to be long, but likely not even a whole minute or two had passed.

Hope supposed training that night with his memories paid off. It wasn't only because he relived the training times with his high-ranking officers and Master, but he relived the memory of fighting this particular Awakened. And now a part of this Awakened's patterns was known to Hope.

Part of it. Not entirely. And not enough either. 

Tang! Tang!

Against the dying light, their figures swept across the room like phantoms.

Hope brought the shield up to his chest just as the sword thrusted towards it.

Kwang!

Hope slid back—the rubble piling at his heels.

Hope clenched his teeth before coming to a stop.

A broken table splintered further beneath Hope's boots as he advanced.

Now how the hell was he going to escape this time? 'Out of sight, out of mind' apparently didn't work on the guy. Or maybe Hope wasn't far enough? Would he have to attempt his ability on him again?

Kwang!

'Do I?'

Kwang—

Hope's shield repelled an overhead slash, and the sound rang out like a bell. 

Hope's eyes slightly widened.

'There–'

Hope caught sight of it. 

Just as Hope pulled back, a clear pattern flashed through his mind as the Awakened countered—a flicker of predictability in the opponent's attack, a priceless glimpse of it.

Just as the enemy's blade darted out...

As its teeth grazed Hope's sleeve...

It happened…

It was as if Hope snapped, a switch flipped as he found a clear opening.

His body moved, reacting without conscious thought—following through with a chilling calmness. 

Fwsshh!

Hope advanced once more unwavering—stepping forward and angling his shield low.

Then with a sweeping upward calculated force—

Krack!

The shield's rim clipped the side of the Awakened's mask, sending it spinning through the air.

'Face…' His instinct darkly hummed.

Hope continued through the motion as he reached with his free hand.

Of course. The face—

!!!

But just as Hope was going to deliver the blow, time seemed to slow.

The last ray of sunlight piercing through the grimy window fell directly on the figure's face.

The Awakened's hood finally slipped back. And to Hope's surprise, revealed a hair that gleamed golden in the light as if the sun itself had woven it. And beneath it, dark eyes framed by youth stared widely back.

But Hope had seen this face before…

But not from this world.

'What the—'

Hope froze, his grip on his shield loosening. 

And for a moment, which seemed almost infinite, he didn't see the man in front of him but someone else.

The knight from his First Nightmare.

***

Hundreds of images flooded Hope's eyes.

Series of voices shouted in his ears.

The sunset's last rays that striped through the room molded into the First Nightmare's fiery flames. The familiar choking smell of burnt flesh and smoke returned, as did the heat tingling his skin. Hope pressed his hands to the side of his head as if seeking to push the visions from his mind. All of these past events resurfaced like a forbidden veil.

And that knight…reached across it.

And Hope saw the knight's face reflected in the Awakened's eyes.

'Don't you know…in dreams, they look a lot like the living…'

'I've buried enough to know they all stay down—'

'Priest, don't do it! You can't give up like this!'

'Can you just–'

'No!'

'Let–'

'There's still a chance!'

'It can't be.' Hope's heart pulsed like a loud drum in his throat. 

'You have no right to speak of honor.'

'Of course. Pity they left you to defend the church on your own…'

Hope stepped back. A dizzying rush flowing through him.

'We…the Knights Templar focused more on our physical upbringing than our education.'

Hope took another step.

Listening to all the voices only he could hear.

Hope couldn't properly see anymore—his vision torn by reality and muddled layers of memories that distorted everything.

A different coldness filled him as even the Awakened paused in confusion.

'This doesn't make sense…'

The Spell. No. The First Nightmare. What was it? He was told it was like a dream, an illusion of some sort…But was it from pure fabrication of a ploy or from told histories from the Dream Realm itself? Hope knew it wasn't possible to take First Nightmares together. That wasn't his assumption. But if tailored to a person in soul and appearance, then what were the chances that people could embody a person within close relations from another person's trials? 

'Wait. That's not…You're not…'

Hope's lips stretched into a straight line.

The only thing he could logically do now was to curse silently at all the people from his supervisor, commanding officer Master, and every other damn high-ranking official for not explaining the Spell and Nightmares properly to him.

But before him right now—

'That is not him.'

It couldn't be.

But that damn face...

The Awakened hesitated, his stance faltering as if sensing Hope's confusion. Even when he had the advantage, he didn't attack either. Maybe Hope looked pitiful enough for the Awakened not to attack. There seemed to be some resolve passing those dark eyes as Hope studied him.

'No. Can't be him. It just can't.' It wasn't possible.

There was no recognition in the Awakened's eyes anyway.

But just as Hope recalled his First Nightmare's character's hands looking similar to his own, the knight looked similar to this Awakened. Not a spitting image. But close.

'Too damn close.'

"..."

"..." 

The Awakened stepped back. A weird…concern formed in his expression. As if he wasn't sure how to read his enemy out. Hope couldn't blame him. He didn't know how to react either if he were in his shoes. But…

'Can this guy seriously not talk?'

This guy never spoke once around him.

So was he mute?

'Seriously?'

Before Hope continued with that thought, the past continued to claw at him from all sides like pervasive spirits. Mocking and teasing him of all that came to pass in that cathedral, the tunnels, and the Tears of the Heart God.

"Sigh. Fucking hell."

"...?!"

The Awakened's mouth dropped as Hope reached up to touch the wounds on his chest.

Pain spiked as Hope gripped the scratched flesh. At once the memories hushed to their soft volume and melted away from sight.

Hope supposed what he did was a little strange.

But when the world cleared again, the sun finally drowned below the horizon, and shadows enveloped the space like its own den.

And what remained was like a haunting ghost, carrying a stolen face that Hope didn't know whether he'd wanted to tear off or not.