Day 4 - The Gunsmith's Gamble

[Corporal Light]

Everything was blurry. He was on his stomach, and his eyes were slowly opening. It took more than several minutes before he could even find the strength to turn his head and open his eyes fully. He noticed... green. No, not green. A light shade of brown. On the walls, on the ground, and on the floor. He looked to his right, seeing a single, long bed set up next to a set of black bars. Next to it was a white toilet set up near the brown walls, which the soldier was starting to suspect was painted, as it also appeared to be made of cave stone.

Ballad brought his head to his left, flinching a bit upon noticing the body a few feet away. He was particularly stout, but he could not see what he looked like as his head was turned away from him. He did not hear him breathing either, yet he did not look as if he was killed. In fact, he didn't have any outward injuries at all. He looked just as well as he ever had, or as well as a deceased man could look like.

"Fuck... what the fuck happened.." The soldier muttered to himself, gritting his teeth behind his crimson scarf as he planted his right hand onto the ground. He felt his lips cut across something jagged within his scarf. Teeth... he thought to himself as his arm started to wobble, pushing his right side up above the ground, followed by his left. His left, however, refused to move, instead sending a shockwave of pain through his limb. He screamed, flopping back down onto the ground. He glanced down his left, staring at his completely straight limb. His elbow was locked in place, jutted out slightly from where it normally was. His shoulder was the same way. Each minute movement he made regarding either part resulted in a deep, intense burn bursting through his limb, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't possibly move them.

He was no doctor, but it was obvious whatever that... THING was had fucked him up bad. Was his arm broken? It might've been. He had heard that one way of knowing that your arm was broken was when your arm felt like it had been crushed by large blocks of ice. Or if someone smacked the area in question with a large hammer. Regardless of where or how, the best option was just not to move it. He didn't want to stand such agonizing torment if he could get away with it.

However, he was in a predicament. He was obviously in a jail cell, his arm was potentially broken, and he was fairly certain he had no weapons. His head hurt, bruised to all hell from the merciless beating the giant had given him, which disrupted whatever concentration he could've had. He couldn't think, and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to form a coherent plan of escape.

This was something he could not resolve in the ways he always had, and that made him shudder and squirm on the ground.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a cell with your... friend, Ballad." A familiar voice said, stepping from the other side of the room.

The gunsmith bent his right elbow, leaning onto it as he peered towards his left. Agern stepped from the entrance of the jail room and started walking towards him. Ballad noticed that his voice no longer held a sense of confidence. Instead, his lips were pursed in an unfavorable manner, and his eyebrows were bent downwards diagonally with his forehead creased. As he moved towards the door of the cell, his eyes started moving around, never directly looking at his quarry.

"Thanks." Ballad growled, his right hand clenching. The black knight knelt down onto his knee, frowning a bit as he looked in the general direction of the prisoner.

"Be glad you're even in here, gre- my friend. I had to literally drag Moe off of you so he didn't literally beat you to death. Have you seen a bear before, Ballad?"

The green man instinctively shrugged, causing him to jolt as aches shot up his shoulder. He quietly said "No.." as his right arm started wobbling.

Agern sighed, setting his left hand on his bent knee. "Most female bears have a deep connection to their kin. So much so that even getting close to them is a death sentence in and of itself, much less charging at them and killing them. Some primal urge kicks in that forces the mother to go on a rampage, and god help you if you're around when that happens."

"Let me guess... I pissed off mom, so I got the claws as a result?"

"Again, you should be thankful. The behemoth was half-crying by the time we calmed him down, and he protested A LOT. So please, be a little bit helpful and try to prove to me you can at least be a good prisoner without screwing things up for everyone, will you?"

The green gunner set the top of his head on the ground, letting his arm collapse back onto the wooden ground. He clenched his eyes shut, taking in long, deep breathes. Every part of his body felt drained, and he could hardly move anything. His left arm was so battered that it took every bit of power remaining to keep it from overloading his senses. Eventually, just as Agern started to leave, he said one word.

"Why?"

The leader looked back over his shoulder just as he got to the adjacent cell, responding with "Because after everything you have done, I at least deserve a day of rest. A day where I don't have to worry about you." in a callous tone of voice.

"Not that... I mean why? Why... why hunt me? Of all the people you could've hunted, you chose me. Why?"

Rublek closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He slid his hands behind his back, curling his fingers together before moving back towards Ballad's cage-like room. He opened his mouth again, speaking in a quiet, albeit stern tone of voice.

"Because, of all the targets we could've chosen, you set yourself up as the most rewarding one for Camelot. We saw the video of you yelling at La'Seer, which is fine. I understand if you don't want to help the war effort. I find that rather silly and unpatriotic in every way, but it's something I can make sense of. What DIDN'T make sense, and thus was... hard to watch, was when you went up and accused US of starting it to begin with. CAMELOT, of all people, started this war. That's what you said, right?"

Ballad skimmed the top of his head off of the floor, staring at the man as he continued his speech. As he kept going, his eyes started to dim and look down towards the floor.

"It was infuriating, to say the least, that someone who didn't know what the hell they were talking about can bash a country they were in for, what, a few days? I've lived here for years, Ballad. I know far more about this place than you could ever to grasp yourself. So I will enlighten you on some ACTUAL knowledge: We did not start this war, and even if we did, it hardly matters now, does it? What matters is that it's still going on, and SOMEONE has to stop it."

By this point, the gunner's forehead was firmly set onto the cold, hard flooring, grinding what teeth he had left incessantly.

"And that's why I'm here, Ballad. That's why WE are here. We're here because we love our country. We love Camelot, and none of us want to stand by and see this war continue on any longer than it has to. That's why we hunted you, Ballad. It wasn't personal, but your Omnillium is valuable. Every single bit of it could mean the difference between us winning and us losing. And all of us, absolutely all of us, are willing to put our lives on the line for that. We risk them every day finding and banishing people like you. Because we care. Because we want to save our country, and damn all those who hate it! DAMN THEM ALL TO A FIERY, AGONIZING HELL, EXECUTIONER!!"

Agern grabbed the two bars in front of him, his voice loud and angry as he shouted. His voice rang around the room, leaving an eerie silence as he murmured. "We will go to hell and back for this country, greenie. You can't understand what that feels like. To fight for so long for something worthwhile. Because in the end, even if times are hard and things look bleak, it will all be worth it. In the end, we will win, and the Empire will lose. We will no longer have to fight, and we can go back to our normal, every day lives. Just as it should be....."

"You're wrong..." The gunsmith muttered, still gazing at the floor like he was certain some ghost was gonna pop out of it at any moment.

The black knight frowned, loosening his grip on the bars. He went silent, allowing the man to speak.

"I do know what that's like. I've seen it all before, bandit. All of this.... it's too familiar. Familiar in a lot of ways. I thought you were all just a bunch of stupid douchebags who were taking me down because Camelot was paying good hard cash for my death. That would've made things simple. Made it all easy, you know? If you were all just like that.."

The executioner took a moment to inhale, gradually bringing his head off of the ground. As he talked, he started to glare towards the general direction of the leader. Of the man who had put him in that place. Of the man who, despite everything he tried to do, had reminded him of them. He once thought no one would figure it out. That no one would be able to dig up an old wound like this. But he was wrong.

"But you aren't. You're just like them, aren't you? Those... scientists who debated every moment of their lives to figure out the existence of an element instead of using it for greater things. Those church people who hated the scientists because they thought said element was of religious value to them, and anyone who disagreed with that was clearly in the wrong. They quarreled and quarreled for years, bickering non-stop over this... wick. This... thing that had helped us for so long, and we could've done so much more if they just stopped to use it. Everything would've been so much better if they just stopped... if they all just stopped.."

Ballad's voice started to crack as he recounted his experience, quivering a bit as he started to lift himself into a plank position with his right hand.

"But they never did. They kept going, and it got worse and worse from there. Then I made a gun. The first of its kind. Everyone got a gun, and then suddenly, someone used it to blow up an entire building. It was a scientist. A Wicker Man. After that, every single church member swore revenge and started massacring them. Then the Wicker Men started massacring them back, and on and on and on and on and.... on... and all I ever did was... sit back.. and watch it happen from the sidelines. Just spectated the entire damn thing. Tried to ignore it and act like it wasn't even a thing. Like it was some dream that would eventually end."

The gunner continued trying to stand up, surprising even himself when he mustered enough strength to get onto his knees. As he ranted, a spark ignited in his brain. Even though he felt delirious, that spark was bright and lively enough to give him some semblance of rationality. He was able to concentrate on it... and an idea sprouted. After all this time, and after all that happened, he felt so stupid for not thinking of it before. He was in a new world, with new people, and new opportunities. In his foolish attempt to forget the entire thing, he had been ignoring all that was wrong with the universe. The war was just the start. What if there were more realms? Ones that were also at war? What about ones with bandits and other criminals in it? All this time, he had brushed it aside.

But he couldn't no more. After all that he had seen, with betrayal, being hunted, and seeing what two countries wanted to do to each other, he couldn't sit back anymore. He knew what he had to do. Everything that had happened back then could not happen again, and in this place, this world beyond, he had another chance. He could MAKE SURE that it never happened. And he knew exactly how.

"But it was all real, and it's still real. I'm a Prime, whatever that means, but I know it's one thing: It makes me powerful. And the people with power are the ones that can change things. To bring change and make it permanent. To ensure everything that had once happened would not happen again. Do you want to know what happened back then, my 'FRIEND?'"

The gunsmith was now firmly on his feet, his right hand trying its best to keep his left arm from moving. He was hobbling directly towards the bandit, who was now backing away from the cell, his hands slithering down towards the hilt of his sword.

"They slaughtered each other, Agern. Probably until no one was left. All because people like me stood by and allowed it to happen. People like me who ignored it because they didn't want to have any part of it. To live in peace unhindered."

The executioner chuckled, continuing. "Hehehe. What a stupid thing to think, do you agree? But I'm not making that mistake again, Agern. I was sent here, to this place, and taken away from my home. At first, I thought I was trapped here for good, with assholes like you. But now I see what this really is: A second chance. A chance to redo all of that. To stop it immediately, and start all over again. To make everything better than it used to be."

"What are you talking about?" Rublek questioned, his eyes widened in fear as the man rambled.

"I am doing what you're doing, Agern. Hunting. I will hunt down everyone in the Omniverse who endorses these conflicts and makes them themselves. I will kill every bandit. I will remove every faction there is. I will destroy every single man, woman, and potentially child who so much as insinuates that they support people like Camelot and the Empire until there is no more Camelot and Empire. Until there are no children, men, or women to support them. Until there is literally nothing left."

The leader's jaw dropped straight down to the floor as the gunner pressed his face through the bars, muttering "Then, and only then, will peace be restored. When that happens, we can start over, where there will be no more war. Only peace and the people who want it. Every bandit, every criminal, every faction at war with another, every faction that supports conflict and subjugates others for not liking that, and every single person out there who supports any or all of the above. Starting with your people, Agern."

The red-haired man's hand trembled around the hilt of his sword. The man's words reverberated around his mind. Whatever they had done, it had struck something, and now whatever sanity he probably had left was gone. And he felt odd. No, not odd. He felt like he was up against the biggest, most dangerous monster ever known to man. He felt like an insignificant ant all of a sudden.

He couldn't let what this man planned to do happen. He HAD to hold him off until the circles arrived.

"You will NOT get out of this cell." He commanded, thrusting his hand towards the gunner's throat. His body emitted smoke as his eyes glowed white. Mental images planted themselves deep into the psycho's brain. Images of burning fire, massacres, and snow.

By the end of it, the prisoner was on the ground, having landed next to the bartender. He was whimpering slightly, and still was by the time Agern walked out. Before he left though, he turned towards Jensen, who was waiting at the door.

"Jensen, get what remains of our men to guard the armory. Do NOT let anyone near this building until the circles arrive."

"Wh-Wh-Why, sir?" Jensen stuttered, his voice laden with fear.

"This man is exactly what we all feared, my friend. Get EVERYONE in there. I will move to my quarters to concentrate on holding them off."