Chương 112: 25 - DEATH BY ROUTINE

It had been around two months since T'balt had last seen the bloody red-lettered text on his TV screen. He stared at it, but all he could see was Corlander smashing Uriel's smiling face to bits. No wonder the guy was smiling. No wonder he didn't care. Uriel Grace was a Redeemer. That much he was certain. His initial instinct that the Bestower was the Redeemer they were looking for was correct. He supposed he just forgot when he ran into Vienna, never imagining that two of them would be in the same city.

Two out of the total five. That meant four Redeemers were now accounted for. What luck. But based on what he saw, neither of them seemed the type to be on a mission to save the world. Vienna cared only about saving Tyene, and Uriel was content to let everything be destroyed with some masochistic enjoyment. No. They weren't the hero types, that was for sure. That left the last one. He wondered if they were in the city too, and he just missed them.

That was a question he figured he'd ask Uriel the next time he saw him. He doubted Vienna would be there again this iteration. But at least that might leave room for a civilized conversation… that was if Uriel was still there too. Though it took T'balt a few tries to get inside Graceland, and each time it was still there, so Uriel probably was too. But that idea pissed him off more. Every iteration, Uriel built the city from the ground up in that same spot, knowing that Corlander would come to destroy it all.

Putting all his people in harm's way with no intention of doing anything about it. He sighed.

"So it is true. All the Redeemers are insane. So much for me finally getting to die of old age." The twelve hours before Zero Day were probably the only good thing about resetting. It left him some time to decompress. Every now and then, he'd pick up his controller and have a go at that boss battle. Just for old times' sake, in memory of a time when character stats and parry mechanics were his biggest problems. He played for about an hour.

This was usually the longest he could put off his Zero Day routine before he'd lose his window to gather up his allies. But before he picked up the phone, he took a sip of an ice-cold beer and ate the lasagna in the fridge.

"Hello?" It was a woman's voice on the other end.

"Hey, Chosa," T'balt answered.

"Hey, Tibby. What's up?"

"She still sounds the same," He thought. He hated that thought. But this Chosa was someone else. She was guilty of crimes that were to him ages ago, but to her in a future she would never know. He probably would've been justified to let her come home and be eaten by the Crimson Deer King, but it was never in him. The least he felt he had to do was give her a chance.

"I need a pretty huge favor. There's something at my mom's house that I need you to grab. It's pretty important, and I need it by tomorrow afternoon. I know you have class, but it's important. Otherwise, I could lose the house. Okay?"

"Seriously. I mean, I guess it's fine. But you owe me for this. What is it?"

"Just go talk to my mom. I'm sure you'll find it. Thanks."

"Hey, wait." She suddenly said. That was different.

"You sound… different. Is everything okay?" He knew he should've just hung up the phone, but he didn't.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not a bad thing. You just sound more assertive. I kinda like it." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Bye, Chosa." As soon as he felt himself smiling, he knew he had to drop the phone like a bad habit.

"Remember who she is. Never forget," he said to himself. He held the box with her choker and wrapped it around his neck. That was the first. It was always the hardest. The second was Cannon. With him, T'balt became the stereotypical mysterious caller who knows everything about you and warns you that the bad guys are right around the corner. Despite Cannon's popularity, he took it surprisingly seriously.

Once when he and T'balt talked about it, he said he felt like he was in The Matrix and T'balt was the one pulling him out. Regardless, the forewarning ensured that Cannon would show up at the church two weeks early, which meant expediting his loot hunting, defenses, and overall morale of the church with his band of wrestlers. T'balt held the phone to his ear for a while.

"No answer." he looked at it, sure he remembered the number correctly.

"Did I wait too long?... He's probably asleep on that bus already." It wasn't a big deal. He'd still come on his own in a couple of weeks. T'balt wondered if a voicemail would have the same effect, but didn't want to risk it since he'd never tried before. He grabbed his notebook, which he'd recreate into the Redeemer's Tome, as the people of the church called it. Then he got in the car and drove towards downtown. The next part, he hated to admit, but he somewhat enjoyed: Cracking Acelin's dad across the jaw.

That old deadbeat deserved it, and T'balt got to remind him every time he forgot. It helped that it was a necessary part of the process, too. Once T'balt tried the civilized way. Well, more civilized than an assault on top of a break-in. But he found a way to sneak Acelin out of the house without a confrontation. But when he did that, Acelin was harder to control, giving in to his more violent and rebellious nature. It was seeing the monster fall. That's what changed him.

That's what gave him the power to be a normal kid. He had to be shown that his monster was just a normal man and that someone out there cared enough to stand up for him. T'balt parked outside the Tinkers' rundown old flat, cracking his knuckles. He got out of the car and… there was no one inside. It looked like the house had already been broken into. The living room TV was still on, and the front door had been broken open.

"Acelin? You in here?" he called. There was no response.

"Shit." He got a bad feeling. So bad that he rushed back to the car and floored the gas, the whole hour-long drive to the Acron church. The car skidded loudly into the parking lot when it suddenly came to a stop right in front of the back door. He ran to knock on the door, breathing heavily.

"Come on." He knocked again. And the door opened. He dropped his head, trying to hide the sudden relief on his face when Ellie answered the door. But he couldn't stop his breath from leaking out the words, "Thank God, Ellie. You're all right." He mentally beat himself for that. Usually, he started with being a stranger in need of help, seeking out the church.

That would get him inside, and he'd have to explain the rest to her, slowly up till noon, having to carefully avoid her, Arthur, and Martha giving him the prophet label. He'd supposed he'd just have to start there this time. Laughing to himself, he said nervously, "You're probably wondering how I know your name."

"Your name's T'balt, right?" She asked curiously.

"What?" T'balt paused. She wasn't supposed to know who he was yet. On Zero Day, Ellie was a stranger. He'd spent so long beating that idea into his head. And now hearing her say that filled his heart with a strange hopefulness.

"Do you… Do you remember me?"

"Oh. No." Ellie said flatly, watching his wide eyes turn back to bewilderment.

"Your friend got here already and told us you'd be coming."

"My friend? Us?" She showed him inside, and sure enough, Cannon was already here… somehow.

"What?"

"Oh, hey!" Cannon waved with a big smile on his face.

"You must be the big man." He reached out to shake T'balt's hand, but all T'balt could say back was, "How are you already here?"

"A really convincing phone call." The big man laughed, rubbing his hand across his bleached blonde hair. Acelin then came running in across the corner, looking like he'd already been cleaned up. He wasn't watching where he was going and ran right into Cannon's oversized leg.

"Is that the guy?" he said, holding his nose.

"Yes, this is the guy," Ellie said behind him.

"Oh.. I thought you'd be bigger," Acelin said.

"Acelin, don't be rude." She said.

"He's not even as big as the first guy," the kid went on.

"You should've seen him when he showed up at my house. He made my dad run down the street in his boxers, shouting, 'I'm an asshat.' It was so funny." T'balt couldn't look anything but starstruck. Even though all his friends were alive and well, his bad feeling was far from gone.

"Who is this friend?" he asked, teeth grinding. They could all see on his face that he was starting to seethe. They heard the bathroom flush in the corner of the room as a man hobbled out, still holding onto his belt. Long dark hair, tattoos up to his neck.

"Hey, buddy." Monan Ryker sneered at him.

"Heard you met Uri."