Chương 42: THE HERO

The Seraph lifted its finger, once again showing off its devious stone smile. T'balt smiled back. He didn't know if he was deranged or not. He was smiling in the face of utter death. David was facing Goliath, and he was high on adrenaline. His pupils shrank from the brightness as he stared into the angel's light of death—the light the believers would say would present him to the pearly gates of God. It was God coming to claim him, to rip him from this world. But he was a Redeemer.

He held a power that was in direct defiance of death. He was no longer a man. No longer human. And so what else could he do but laugh in the face of it all? The light flashed, leading to the evisceration of the spot where T'balt stood. Though he wasn't there to be eviscerated with it. He avoided death by the bloody hair on his legs, but not of his own doing. He was suddenly being carried on the shoulders of a man, clad in silver armor. The man was racing him far away from the angel in the sky.

T'balt's vision was waxing and waning, but he was determined to keep it on that Seraph, almost annoyed that he was being taken away from his reset. The angel pursued them but could only maneuver itself so much between the large skyscrapers. It used its light magic to zip between buildings, but the armored man knew how to evade it. He ducked into small alleys, made several sharp turns, and cut through buildings. Eventually, the guardian lost sight of them.

Though it remained in search, not resting until it found the one that sullied it by damaging its skin, making it use its holy tome. It moved in silence, no different than if the moon itself had eyes and four angels' wings covered in eyeballs. The only sounds were the creaks in its neck as it turned, like someone dragging a stone over asphalt. The armored man finally dropped T'balt inside an abandoned restaurant. The place was still clean, somehow untouched by the apocalypse surrounding it.

It held neatly assorted chairs and tables, posh drapery, and paintings on the wall of famous people T'balt didn't know. But it was still dark. They could only see by the dusty, bluish glow of moonlight through the window. The silver armor evaporated from the man's skin, turning to smoke. Before T'balt could get a look at him, he ran to check the windows to see if they were still being followed.

T'balt dragged himself to lean against a wall and checked his body for all the places he was sure he was bleeding and bones he was sure he'd broken. There was nothing to be done about them anyway. He was still alive, and that bothered him.

"What do you want?" T'balt said, aggravated. When the man returned from his perimeter check, he lit a match and used it to light a candle he snatched from a dining table. T'balt searched the face behind the flickering of the flames before sighing.

"Of course it's you." Cannon Valkyr looked at him strangely.

"First off, are you alright, young man?"

"Why did you save me?" T'balt asked.

"You don't know me, do you?"

"Ehh... no. I just saw you fighting that beast. It's been stalking around this area for weeks. It kills randomly, so everyone's been scared shitless of going outside. So when I saw you fighting it… Well, you just looked too damn heroic for me to let that thing have you." T'balt frowned, pinpointing the word heroic. That was the opposite of what he felt. Fighting that thing was driven only by selfishness and a need to kill a man. That wasn't what heroes did. He had to slow his breathing way down.

Otherwise, he felt his lungs might collapse. As the adrenaline wore off, the pain started to set in, and it quickly became unbearable. He looked at his shaking hands, knowing that he had killed people. Not all the blood on him was his own. Most of it was not his own. He sank, covering his eyes.

"I killed her."

"What?" said Cannon, overhearing his murmurs.

"She forced me to... She… But I burned her. It was my hands that did it. I'm an animal. I could've just let her kill me. I should've. Then… I wouldn't have had to." He was still feeling the effects of the alcohol in his system. It worked to numb the pain only when others weren't around. Cannon sat next to him, placing the candlelight on the floor between them, casting the light under his chin.

"This world has taken much from us, no?" the large man said.

"And it will keep taking… that is, until we don't allow it to anymore. You've had to kill someone important. Someone you know you shouldn't have?" he asked. T'balt stayed silent.

"Even in the face of cruelty, you can't help but believe that there might've been another way."

"You killed the kid," T'balt said bluntly.

"How…" Cannon was shocked for a moment. But he turned his head, realizing that it was inevitable that the world would know his crime.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"He was cruel… Drunk off the loot. He was too strong, that kid, and everyone just had to do as he wanted. Otherwise, he started killing them without a second thought. A lot... of innocent people… are gone. That kid was a monster." T'balt had to turn his image of Acelin in his mind. Whenever he remembered the kid, he was typical. He liked video games, baseball, and was always looking to play. He would smile, get embarrassed, and look for a body to hug when he was anxious.

To know that that could turn into the thing that Cannon was describing was blasphemous in his mind. But when Nrv removed his mask, Acelin was there. He couldn't deny it. And Nrv, even if he didn't do it himself, was responsible for the death of Ellie and everyone in the church. No different than when Monan was.

"They were going to kill him anyway," Cannon said.

"I didn't want the kid to suffer. So I said it had to be me. I still lost a lot." Cannon removed his olive long coat, and the light of the candle flickered. That's when T'balt saw the truth of him, having never fully looked at him before now. His left arm was cut to a bloody stump, severed at the elbow. Thick bandages were wrapped around his head and right eye. He was in pitiful shape, like he had fallen on a land mine.

"Your arm…" T'balt said.

"Despite everything. The kid was a badass," Cannon rubbed his bandages.

"If it wasn't for my boys, I would be dead for sure. They sacrificed everything to win. Just like they did in the ring." He sighed.

"I'm sorry." It was all T'balt could say.

"Still, he was just a kid. When I was his age, I had idols to look up to. Legends that said never give up, no matter how tough things get. You didn't have to be a thug just because of your lot in life. Strive, persevere, overcome. They taught me what it looked like to be a hero. So when I grew up, I always wanted to be someone who would stand for the little guy. An inspiration to all. Like how the great wrestlers of old did for me.

If I didn't see them on TV when I was a kid, there's a world where I turned out no better than Nrv. I wished I could've helped him before it turned out like this." Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"He killed your friends, Cannon. He took your arm. And you still think he could've been helped?"

"I guess old habits die hard. I mean, I'm 43 years old. If the apocalypse can't change me, then I guess nothing can. There's a reason people end up the way they do. And it isn't always their fault. I think if only they had a helping hand…" T'balt was struck by memory. He saw Acelin riding on top of Cannon's shoulders as they bickered about how real wrestling was. He saw them practicing moves on each other, Cannon giving the tutorial on his famous Cannon Buster finisher. He remembered Ellie lecturing the kid.

He remembered their promise in the pantry. Never to leave one another behind.

"We should kill him." When the Bear was tied up, T'balt wondered what to do with him. That's what the boy said. That moment stuck out far more than the others now. Looking at Cannon now. He realized that though people acted differently from timeline to timeline, it didn't change who they were before Zero Day. That's how Monan could so easily get to Chosa. Because she held her disgust with T'balt before Zero Day began.

"No matter when I meet you, you're always protecting me one way or another," T'balt said to the wrestler.

"What? Have we met before?"

"In another life. Then everyone was alive, better than alive… they had a chance of living, beyond all this pain."

"Oh…" Cannon twisted his face, hardly understanding. T'balt rubbed his temple, letting his interior thoughts slip to the surface.

"I can't beat Monan on my own. But if I try to get help, he'll use them against me. I don't know what to do."

"Listen, friend. Sounds like you've been through the wringer. I don't know if I can help at all, but it might help to have another set of ears on it."

"You'll just forget when it matters."

"But it might be better than what you've been doing. You seem like the kind of guy to take it all on your own. No man is an island. Maybe that's been your problem."

"Yeah, but…"

"Just try it. What have you got to lose? That angel thing is still out there. We might be stuck hiding here for a while longer." T'balt supposed he was right. In the past, people knew he was a Redeemer, but they didn't know the extent of what he had gone through. Not even Chosa. The only person who really knew was Monan, and that was a friendship he didn't want. So reluctantly, he explained it all to Cannon.

From the day he woke up, to meeting Monan, to everything with Chosa, to meeting Cannon and his band, to Acelin… He spilled everything that had happened. And the man listened, never judging, never even showing a hint of doubt in T'balt's words. He hardly said a word at all. It was like dropping an entire weight off his shoulders. Letting everything go. It was something he'd never done before, or even thought to do. His whole life, holding in all of himself without letting it spill for others to see.

He felt vulnerable and unsafe as he was speaking... but when the words were finally all out, he felt relief.

"That's the wildest story I've ever heard," Cannon said.

"Yeah… It's crazy, I know."

"Maybe a month ago, I would've called it crazy, but we're taking refuge from a giant stone angel. I don't need to be convinced." T'balt emptied his breath. He didn't know why, but that made him feel better.

"So this Monan won't leave you alone unless you kill him. Otherwise, he'll keep killing and resetting you to day zero."

"Zero Day, but that's the gist."

"That's a tough break, T'balt. You got a bona fide stalker. And he's stronger than you, smarter than you, and knows way more about what's going on here than you."

"Thanks," T'balt said sarcastically. Though it was all true.

"Monan knows everything. He's experienced that life far before I did. He knows the ins and outs of the church; he knows about Nrv. He knows all the ways to get to me. And I don't know a thing about him. It feels like he's always got me checkmated before the game even starts."

"That's a major problem, indeed." Cannon scratched his head.

"So why not change the game?"

"What do you mean?"

"It sounds like each iteration, you always wait for him to show himself. You automatically assume the defensive. Because you're afraid of him."

"I'm afraid of him?"

"Yeah. He's living in your head rent-free. Even I can see that."

"Of course he is… If it wasn't for him, then none of us would have to live in fear, and I could protect everyone."

"I don't think he's as terrifying as you think he is."

"How's that?"

"Before all this happened. He was just a man. No different than you or I. Sure, even if it is true that he killed a god, so did you. And we're all lootless on Zero Day."

"Your point?"

"You both start off with the same resources. It's just a matter of how you use them. Growing up in the wrestling business, it's rare to get a guy that's jacked like me or can light up a mic like me, or guys that can work a crowd like me. So I was the grand slam. But I was so focused on being a showman that I forgot to learn how to wrestle. My matches were awful, and people started calling me a fraud. Of course, my pride was hurt. Cannon Valkyr could never be a fraud.

So one day, I showed up and had a five-star classic on the biggest stage of them all. Knocked the socks off of every candied ass in the building because I caught them so off guard, they had no choice but to respect me. But they didn't see me training every day for years. Working my ass off. I had saved all my new tricks for that one moment when I knew it would matter more than any other. And it was that match that launched me into superstardom…"

"So you want me to catch him off guard? I'll remind you that's impossible. Monan's seen everything. And he knows how to predict me."

"It doesn't matter what he's seen. He's got you pegged as a guy that can't wrestle. You don't gotta reinvent the wheel. You just gotta do something he doesn't expect YOU to do. That's how you yank his head out of his own ass."

"How though?"

"That's a good question… But I believe you can do it."

"You believe?"

"Yeah. Most people in this situation would've quit long before now. But in some past life, you might've been the strongest guy in the whole world. And you still care about people. You've got heart. There's a reason every time I see you, I can't help but want you on my team. I'm a great judge of character."

"Wow. Corny…" Cannon's face dropped for a moment, and then he laughed.

"Maybe a bit."

"But I appreciate it, Cannon."

"Every failure is a step closer to victory. And you're almost there, kid. I can feel it. Just make sure I'm there with you for the celebration. No one throws a party like Cannon Valkyr."

"Yeah." T'balt worked his way off the ground and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going? That thing's still out there."

"To get my perfect ending." Cannon looked perturbed.

"Right… It doesn't feel right that it has to be done that way."

"It isn't exactly fun, but I'm not salvaging much from this life." He looked out the window, sensing the giant shadow of the angel still looming.

"So when you go… they'll all be alive then?" There was a crack in Cannon's voice as he held what was left of his arm. T'balt looked back once he was out the door, holy light shining above him.

"It'll be alright. I'll make sure of it." T'balt turned and gave a thumbs-up.

"See you in the next life."

"You died." He was clean again, the blood free from his hands and the aches clear from his body. He felt himself again.

"Just once, I have to catch him off guard, huh?" he thought back in his home.

"I guess it's time I start playing then." But to do that, he first had to get rid of his greatest weakness. Take that piece off the board entirely. He picked up his phone, and the dial tone rang.

"Hello?" Chosa answered.

"Hey, Chosa."

"Hey, Tibby. Something the matter?"

"Listen. I need a huge favor."

"Now?" She sounded confused.

"No, in the morning. I need to pick something up from my mom's house. It's really important."

"Your mom lives like 3 hours away. You know I have class. Why can't you do it?"

"My mom wouldn't want to see me. But she'll let you in… It's really important, Chosa. We could lose the house if I don't get it." She groaned.

"Fine."

"Thanks, it's a box in my old room. I won't be home in the morning, but you should aim to get there right around noon," he said.

"Got it," she said.

"You know you owe me for this."

"A lot…" He hung up the phone. And that was that. Monan wouldn't know where his mom lived. That would cut off his access to Chosa and at least give her somewhere to stay that's out of the way. The key to this would be to think smarter. Brute-forcing things wasn't going to work. And so he began to work on his strategy.