8. A Worthwhile Reality

Sam fiddled with the huge chunk of metal weaponry in his hands. It felt unwieldy and heavy, far beyond what he had expected. The long barrel extended well past his index finger, and the broad grip accommodated two hefty magazine clips. The weapon seemed more like a small cannon than a sidearm.

Alex, the quiet Officer, had taken the time to explain how their weapons worked and Sam couldn't shake the creeping feeling that perhaps he's actually in a coma dreaming this all up. The pistol worked with two different bullet types; normal bullets and 'Holy' bullets.

The Holy bullets were of course made with bits and pieces of Belua nuclei or core, Alex explained that fighting fire with fire had been the most reliable way to counterattack the Doom Towers. Sam could only take her at her word, the thing felt too heavy for him to shoot and the three times that he did in the impromptu practise with her, it nearly knocked him flat on his ass.

There was an easy switch between normal and Holy bullets so he could still fire the weapon. There were several precautions and mechanisms but the only ones Alex bothered with were that the pistol will automatically switch to normal or Holy bullets if one runs out before the other.

Just in case he found himself without any bullets, Alex equipped him with a short blade, a dagger of sorts, though one with a whole lot of girth. It's edge and tip were crafted with Belua nuclei and would rend through just about anything in the natural world and do just fine damage against the Belua she was driving him off to face now.

It was a difficult image to digest, all of third avenue cast in a perpetual silence reminiscent of a ghost town. The bars shutter up, fast food joints devoid of parked cars and impatient drivers, the pharmacy's broken lights flickering on and off as they zoomed by.

It was especially difficult to reconcile the facts that it was only like this because everyone had been evacuated and that if not for the DSF, it's likely swats of the city, not just fifth avenue and down, would be a ghost town in every sense of the word.

But he swallowed his shivering doubts, fears and anger, replacing it with a pint of gratitude. Whatever the case maybe right now, Sam couldn't deny that the DSF were and had saved lives by merely existing.

"Hey! What are you thinking!" Alex, speed demon that she was, had to scream over her own trailing winds for her voice to be heard. The vehicle was a military-brown convertible jeep and she abused its eager engine with daring manoeuvres on the empty freeway without the slightest hesitation.

Sam sat beside her, taking in the sudden boisterous and chaotic energy of the otherwise reserved DSF agent. She's had a lot more personality than the cardboard of lore dumps she was with General Sir around. Locks of hair flowed freely in the wind, whipping in her scarred face as she drove like a madwoman across the ghost town. She had a grin all the while but was now glancing over at Sam expectantly.

"Thinking about how you all might be simulations! Or products of an over active imagination or some fucked up subconscious!"

She laughed heartily, slowing down a bit if only so thieir words weren't carried away in the wind. She grinned and said, "I felt that way too when General Sir recruited me, told me about the Doom Towers and his eternal crusade on them."

Sam had a shocking thought, "How old is he anyway? He said he was there for the incident during the wars, that was over a hundred years ago!"

Alex shrugged and turned down a corner, her eyes glinted at the free slope the road dipped into and her foot was on the pedal before another word could be uttered.

Slammed back against his seat Sam watched the DSF agent court death with her speeds. Strangely he wasn't worried for himself as much as he was for her and that had little to do with being a Regalia Wielder.

Alex whoo'd and hoo'd all the way down and then up the slope, screaming for joy when the jeep went airborne for around four seconds before violently smashing against the asphalt.

"We're almost there!" She said, kicking it back into gear and down the road.

"Where? Heaven?"

Again she laughed, in the short time he'd known her she'd laughed more than she spoke, and Sam supposed that was one way to live but at the same time, he couldn't detach the woman having the time of her life from the one who owned a long, heavy ass rifle and rocket launcher for Belua fighting.

"I know it doesn't seem real, I felt…weird about reality, about people after meeting General Sir but after actually having to do the job he recruited me for, seeing those monsters pour out of the Tower and how the only thing between us and them were the walls of preparation General Sir had endeavoured for…I had to appreciate what I actually had left, yknow?"

Sam couldn't help but feel this was another pitch meeting even though he felt how genuine she sounded. Alex was a pretty woman in her late twenties-ish he determined and besides the scar across her cheek and the intense vibes she gave when she was in DSF agent mode, she was just like him, like a normal average, unwitting person.

She reached over and patted his shoulder, "What I'm saying Sam is…don't stress over this too much, I know this is probably going in one ear and out the next, but you have to focus on what you can still control in your life. Even if we hadn't come across you, somehow, one day, you'd still end up right at the centre of Regalia events, you're a Regalia Wielder after all."

That did make sense, except, "What do I have control over? I can't even go get my cat."

Alex pulled a billowed strand of hair from her face as she smirked at him, "You mean the Bombay cat? I think we got it."

"You did?" Shock, hope and a measure of peace ran through Sam at the revelation.

"Haha, yes, you kept asking and bothering about it so much we sent someone to your apartment. She really doesn't like strangers though."

That was true, Nyx was a particular kind of cat, choosy but friendly. The best companion he'd had for some years now. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem."

They drove in relative silence for a moment, but Sam could feel and see Alex stealing glances still, "What is it?"

"Nothing, just wondering if you'll find out what you want from this."

Sam sighed, leaned into his seat, "I don't want anything from it, I want to go home and not deal with it."

"But…"

"Yeah, I know, it's out of my control, isn't it?"

"There are worse fates, don't look at me like that, there are. You could be one of our researchers or their unfortunate assistants who have to transport and dissect monsters and their parts or you could be on the outside for real, watching on the side-lines as your home, your country is being destroyed with nothing you could do about it. You could be a lot worse, but you can also be a lot better."

When she put it like that, Sam felt like an entitled and privileged kid pouting at life rather than living it. It could be worse, he could be back at home, alone with a cat that loves him but doesn't speak and a job that pays him but doesn't think he's valuable.

He breathed, "Okay, what do you think I should do then?"

Alex gave a rueful smile, "Nothing specific, actually! I'm not suggesting you need to act beyond following General Sir's orders, but I am saying you've found yourself in a unique position. The DSF is an ancient and powerful organization, isn't there anything more than your cat you want? Isn't there anything that can make living this life bearable?"

Sam thought for a moment. There were a lot of things he could ask for; his first instinct was to demand a house in the Maldives but that's redundant considering he'll be living here by the looks of things. He thought about getting all the game consoles he'd ever dreamed of owning, premium cat food for Nyx and all other luxuries but he couldn't attach any meaning or worth to any of that right now. It all felt…hollow.

Sam was about to ask Alex what made her own life as a monster hunter worthwhile when she suddenly pointed ahead with excitement. "Look! We're almost there. It might look ugly and imposing up close, but from here, it doesn't immediately scream 'Doom Tower,' does it?"

Ahead of them, just tipping through the horizon was the Doom Tower that had fallen to the city almost a month ago. Its peak was fitted like a crown and the preceding levels to its body and architecture spoke of magnitudes Sam had yet to understand. He recognized the tower, not just as a Doom Tower but as the Doom Tower, specifically the one his phone had chosen as a wallpaper.

This was where the Regalia wanted him to be.