Inherited Will

"ALGRON!!!" I scream before firing at one of the Darken Stones. The recoil knocks me away. Although I destroyed it, I have no time to aim and fire another shot. The one I destroyed has regenerated already. This isn't going to work! And more importantly, Algron is bleeding on the ground!

My insides are trembling, out of fear or mourning? I don't know! Without him, I'm good as dead! And I'm afraid for his life! He's still alive, fighting but then another strike on his face ends it.

*Gasp*

I want to scream in horror but "NOOO!!!" Nisha screams it for both of us.

She's right there at the entrance of the throne room. She cries hard until it makes her kneel. Her tears dampen the dust and rubble. Her cry fills the place. Carmilla is walking there towards her. Is she concerned? Why would she?

And Algron, I'm sorry if I couldn't be of any help. I'm. . . too weak, just as you said. Now you're here on the rubble, dead and in pieces. I couldn't even bear to look at you. I'm a coward!

But you could be like Carmilla that can regenerate. Tell me you can! Or this is gonna be awkward between us. We're. . . in tears, you know. . .

"PLEASE, ALGRON!!!" I shout, trying to wake him up. Nothing is happening. Who am I kidding? He is mortal just like the rest of us. He's dead. "No. . ." I pull my hair, bearing all of the guilt that is suffocating me.

That bitch! I'll make her pay! I'm sorry for this Algron but I need your help one last time.

I take his corpse as a Frame and see his life in his own memory. He's over two thousand years old and born to two Atasaia parents. However, his mother died after having him. His father raised him but treated him like a punching bag to express his resentment towards life. It was because Algron was born that the woman he loved died. But even his hunger became Algron's fault. Everything bad that has happened to him was Algron's fault.

Gone mad, the father tried to kill his own son. But Algron fought back against, compared to him, was a fully-grown man. Algron was a thin boy that has been lying on the ground for years to save his energy.

He crawled on the ground as his father's purpose was to stab him with a long knife. His father misses when Algron unexpectedly kicked his leg and ran away.

"Get back here, you wicked child!"

"You're the one who's wicked!" he answers, crying while running weakly.

He was so slow that his father caught up in no time, grabbed him by the wrist, and lunged with the knife. Algron was struggling so his father missed his chest and instead stabbed his left shoulder.

Argh! Although this is only a memory, I can feel the pain as if they were my own. Then his father let go of him, and probably regretted what he has done.

On the ground, Algron was bleeding. His blood is black and thick and dry. A hatred grows inside of him. It gives him the strength to stand. I don't like what he's thinking. I want him to snap out of it but this is only a memory. There is nothing I can do to stop him.

He opened a secret shelf on the wall. Guns of different kinds were mounted inside but he grabbed a handgun and loaded it full of bullets. Once done, he came out of the house. His father sat on a rock not far from their door.

The mood of the father was sorrowful as if he didn't even need to be killed. That face of his, stayed the same as Algron takes aim at his head at point-blank range. The father nodded, forwarding his forehead until it touched the muzzle. He wanted him to get done with it. There was no reason for him to live, after all. He would just suffer more.

Without exchanges of words, Algron pulls the trigger. The blood scattered all over his face. He was in shock as well as in tears. Then he realized what he had done. He let go of the gun and sat on the ground. His eyes were open wide for hours and hours. Voices of malice told him that he was a murderer, a murderer of fathers. And those voices were his own.

Then Darick came to play with him and found out about this grotesque scene. Instead of paying his condolences, he laughed.

"Now you've done it!" Darick cheered, patting Algron's head. "Now we can play all we want!"

"I. . . killed. . . my. . . own father. . ."

"Yup, sure, you did." Darick was kicking the body to see if he was really dead. "His brain must be small. There isn't much matter spread all around. Well, that's that. Wanna eat him?"

Darick helped himself by starting with the arm. Soon, he gave some to Algron. The taste was unbearable but because of his hunger, he devoured it.

His father's flesh was the last thing he ate and spent most of his time in his coffin. Then a voice woke him up. Coming out of his coffin, and eventually out of his home was not of his will. This is the first time he witnessed Carmilla's call.

As they row their way to that island, Darick says, "Hey, I've heard about this chick called, Carmilla. They said she was the one who called us. The old folks said that she was the most beautiful woman that has ever lived."

Not interested, Algron just rowed in silence. When they got there, they fell in love with Carmilla's beauty and became slaves. It was their job to battle and kidnap Daemons to bring back to the castle for the feasts.

For a time, it was an onrush of feelings for Algron as he finally found his purpose. But the feelings of guilt eventually got to him. His heart was drowning.

It was when Carmilla appointed him as a spy to watch the movements of Zaori—the new ruler of the scattered Daemons at that time. Because under her rule, the Daemons gathered in one civilization and under her protection.

He was caught and could've been executed but Zaori's face, when she smirked at him, meant that she had something in mind. So instead, he was imprisoned for several hundred years. The only food he was given was the staple food of Daemons. That's how he learned to eat other than the flesh and blood of people. In his time there, he made use of it working out. That explained his big muscles.

And eventually, Zaori came down into the dungeon to meet him. They talked a lot and quickly hooked up. He knew little about the weapon "seduction" so it was an easy game for Zaori.

Like what she did to me. . .

. . .

Anyway, moving on!

All this time, he is one of her husbands. And that's not all. She used him to spy on Carmilla as they have been sabotaging each other for a long time but none of them would risk all-out war. Zaori was and maybe until now, dealing with a more powerful enemy next door. One sign of weakness, and her kingdom will be attacked.

Then things get nearer the present now. She told him about the Phantom of the Rave and he helped all he can but it was never resolved. And then probably the most important part of his memory: His time looking out for Nisha. He found her wandering aimlessly in the alleys of the Rave Metropolis. He wondered why he hadn't seen her before. Later, he discovered that she was born right before Carmilla woke up. So, Nisha has never been to the castle.

Carmilla went to a deep slumber again and their kind was free to do as they please. Algron, however, was still pretending to be spying on the Rave Kingdom. He used that as an excuse to watch over Nisha and help her. And I already know that he wasn't successful.

The inner metropolis was too crowded, too bright, and too noisy for him so he lived in the slums. Seeing his neighbors struggling for food, he took the matter into his own hands and became a sea monster hunter. He became their hero but he didn't let that get into his head.

Oh, I'm in this memory now. I already know what happened next.

"I tried everything," he thought to himself when we were around the fire at the beach. "but I would never lock her up again. She would rather die than take anything other than Anthropa Blood. Maybe we're just too different. I can't expect anyone who could stomach terrible deeds like me. Not to mention, I killed my own father. All I could do now is watch over her and this boy. At last, there is a chance for our race to be revived. It will all start with Nisha. "

While he was shooting Carmilla, in his mind, he said, "This is no doubt, the end of me. If I die, this boy will die too. And Nisha will starve. Who knows when Queen Zaori brings another Anthropa that is willing to take care of Nisha? This boy—who I don't even know his name, could be the one to save her."

That's right, I never told you. . . I regret forgetting.

"It was not me, after all. All I was for her was a nuisance. I never helped her."

That's not true, Algron.

"I hope he'll do a better job. No, I 'believe' that he will do a better job. He's all she needs."

"Boy," he said to me

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Take care of Nisha."

"What?"

*Ping* He's out of bullets and impaled by Carmilla.

Carmilla's roars and grunts were the last noise he heard before she finished him with a strike that crushed his face.

<>

**

Carmilla is standing in front of Nisha—whose hands are on the rubble and tears pouring.

"What are you doing, Nisha?" she asks, licking her arm full of blood. "Stand up. That man is nothing to you. I'm the only one who you must care about. I'm the only one who can make you live forever. I'm the only one who will free you from the grasp of hunger!"

"Why did you kill him?" she asks, sobbing and sniffling.

"Why, you ask? LOOK AT WHAT HE'S DONE!!!" she screams. It echoes across the ruins of her throne room.

"But it's just a thing that can be rebuilt. . .," Nisha mutters.

"Rebuilt?" Carmilla laughs. Her sanity has abandoned her as she grabs a handful of rubble and throws it into the air. "Thousands of years of history—the murals, invaluable chandeliers, all turned into dust! His life isn't even enough as payment! He is worthless!"

Her head explodes with the sound of gunfire.

**

<>

That ugly broken jar of rotten flesh sitting on her shoulders regenerates again and turns to me glaring. That was enough to get her attention. This handgun is so powerful although it shrunk in size. This Frame even is slimmer than Algron. He was a 3-meter guy and probably hundreds of levels. Now it's level 70—the same level as my Frame User Level.

I thought this wouldn't work. Zaori told me I can't use a Frame if it is more than my level. But here I am, using Algron as my Frame with a few bullets and grenades to spare.

"Algron?" Nisha asks from afar.

"Don't worry, Nisha!" I yell. "His will lives in me!"

"You took him as your Frame?" Carmilla bursts out laughing. "You're gonna die as well, but this time, I will do it slowly!" She bares her fangs and spreads her wide wings.

I aim the gun at her and "We'll see about that!" I answer.