Chương 151: Hercules

I had never seen darkness like this in my entire life. Well, that made sense, since my life was over. I burned myself out. Couldn't fucking listen to anyone who had warned me this would happen. All of my training was just skipping the important steps and stumbling head-first into the closest copy of getting it right. Even in that tree I was still letting myself fall apart, I just thought the flames from burning myself out would wash away all the threats before it took me. I forgot that fire burns the center first.

I wasn't even sure how I was processing this right now. I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't hear or see or smell anything. Was this what being dead was like? Your mind just trapped in blackness, forever? Stuck ruminating on what you had done wrong? Well, I had a list. I… … What was it? I was just talking about something I had done wrong just a second ago. What was a second? Why did I use that? Why couldn't I remember any of what I was talking about? What was talking? What was remember? Why was I here?

What even is "I?" Why do I keep using it? Start there. What is "I?" I is… I is the self. Me. I am me. But what is me? What am I? I would have to start from the… what was it… the thing. I was a thing. A… person. A human. What was a human? I couldn't remember. What was remember? Remember. That was… make memories. What are memories? … Things I did. Things I've been around or thought. Those were memories. Those were in my head. I lost them. I lost a lot of them. Almost all of them. But here, where there's nothing.

Maybe I could make something. What was nothing? This. The black. Was it even black? Was I just imagining? I couldn't imagine. There was no way to imagine. But this must be how I could see nothing. Right. There was the thing. Start from the beginning. I start from the beginning. If I could start from the beginning, I could make something. If I tried to remember enough things, maybe I could remember what I am. Who I am. What happened. I am a human. So that means I was… b… born. I was born. Who made me born?

I don't know. I don't think I ever knew. What could be the first thing I could know, if I didn't know that? I wasn't born from nothing. Nothing can't make anything. Only something could make something even in nothing. That's how I knew I wasn't nothing. In the nothing, I could see something. A thing that was born. A… baby. But whoever made me born. They must have not been around. Either they did not want to be around, or they could not be around. So I would have to be taken care of by someone else.

Otherwise, I think I would not be here. I think I would not have got to here. Okay. Who could take me? People who are born, not with the people who are made them born. What are people who make you born? Birthed. Who are the people who birth you? P… Parents. Two shapes cradled the baby. I do not have parents. I was born, but my parents did not keep me. The shapes were gone. They put me in an… O… … Orphanage. I was put in an orphanage. An orphanage is a place people without parents live in when they are… children.

That was the word. In the nothing, the baby shifted and lengthened in limbs just a little bit. Able to stand. Behind him, stood a red structure, made of things called bricks. It felt familiar. So I was a children, at one point. A child. That would be where I would… grow up. Those were the words. The baby's limbs lengthened further, turning from what was considered an infant into a child. Who did I grow up with? I had friends, I think. Faces formed, shifting and pulsing in the nothing.

Like Sam, and Chris, and May, and Jairo. Whose names were those? Those weren't at the orphanage. The faces vanished. But they sounded important. I would hold onto those names. The impressions of their faces remained, sitting just out of view. What kind of person was I? It's starting to make more sense now. Start to put itself together faster. The child took to form beyond just shapes. Pale skin. Thin limbs. Bags under eyes. A tired smile. I was a child, with friends.

Shapes of other children surrounded the child, whom he ran and danced and leapt with. He would retrieve things for them or stand in the way of others, stumbling over in fatigue. I was a sickly child. The child found himself in his bed often. Two larger shapes looking over him. Sick was when your body was weak. It is how you nearly d… die. I died. That's why I'm here. I died. The child suddenly was curled on the ground. There was nothing surrounding him. This recent time wasn't the first.

What was in front of me, that was when I died for the first time. Behind the child, a shifting, pulling force. Invisible but unignorable. In front of him, a small wooden ball that he crawled for. This was the first time I died. My body was fighting to stay alive. I remembered the reason why I did it. Because I was always helping the other kids. Even when I was too sick to justify it, there were kids more sick than me. Who ate less than me.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The child kept crawling towards the ball. No one else would notice them at times. They were stuck trying to help themselves. Just like me. I had to help myself all the time. I hated how it felt, being by myself, having no one else to help me. So I helped them. The day prior to this. There were a few kids like that, who didn't have help, who thanked me for helping them.

Even though I was doing it by myself, even though I was sick, I didn't let that stop me. Because I promised them that I was going to help anyone who was in my reach. The child continued to crawl, hand stretching out for the ball. And that's what I reminded myself in that moment.

"I can't die! I promised to help everyone! If I die, I can't help anyone!" The boy cried out. WHY?

"Because!" WHY?" Because!" WHY?" Because I want to be a hero!" The boy gripped the ball with enough force to shatter, and it all came to me. Floods of memories of lives I never lived. IF YOU PROMISE TO BE HERO, THEN LIVE NOW THE LIVES OF HEROES. Memories of innocent men and women fearing the legacy of their home, for those who enter were slain by a monster they could not defeat with any weapon that hated and devoured mankind. I charged the halls, where I rested with my closest companions to await the beast.

After he makes an example of my first ally, I let him pretend to ambush me, before I wrestled and dismembered him. I let him flee in terror, never to return after he bled out. And after him, I found and killed his mother too. This was not me. But he was like me. How we would not hesitate to avenge our closest friends and allies, and use our greatest strength to tear evil asunder without fear or regret.

He died as he lived, waging war against monsters beyond comprehension, sacrificing himself to slay the dragon who destroyed his kingdom and his home. In his dying breath, he reached out to his dagger to lay the fatal blow on the dragon. I saw my hand reaching for the ball imposed over his hand groping at a final act. Memories of armies of men at my back as steel was in my hand, clenched tight. Battles waged with a blade that could destroy all armor. In my last battle, I was focused on saving my comrades and allies.

With a horn blow so great and powerful it ruptured the blood vessels in my head, I could feel my dying steps. I knew my weapon would be stolen from me by my enemies, and in one last act of spite I dashed my blade against the rocks to leave them unarmed. The force of my blow cleft a mountain in twain. This was not me. But he was like me. How we were willing to destroy ourselves to save those we wished to protect, in the only way we could as the strongest and the most violent.

He reached towards the sky, towards Who he believed in and to Whom he owed the debt of a life unforgettable and unrepeatable. I saw my hand reaching for the ball imposed over his hand palm to sun. Memories of the woodlands of me looking over the bodies of my wife and child. Blood in my hands. The draining rage in my heart deafened by realization of what horrible atrocities I had committed. My pursuit of redemption as I faced horrors impossible and unimaginable.

An unkillable man, wild beasts who ruled the seas, the lands, and even Hell itself, all for the attempt to prove that I was sorry for the deaths undeserved that I had caused. This was not me. But he was like me. How we both were poisoned with a rage that if we did not temper, if we did not focus, would be the death of those we loved, and how we sought atonement.

He reached out towards his wife and children, fingers tensed and curled in regret of never getting to feel them stroke through the hair of those he loved ever again. I saw my hand reaching for the ball imposed over his hand as it sought a touch it would never have again. Our hands clenched. And in that moment it flooded me. While I was not these people, I was what they could be, what they represented. I could protect my loved ones and live. I could atone for my deepest sins.

I could prove that my strength would always lend service to those who did not have it. I am Beowulf. I am Roland. I am Heracles. I am hero. My senses flooded back to me, there in that moment, toppled on the ground at the peak of the Platanos. I didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe seconds. But with the senses came my memories. All of them. The children I assisted, the monster I had slain, the lonely trip to Richmond. It was all there and it was fresh and it was alive.

I was so scared that remembering all of this meant it would no longer be me. But I still remembered everything after all of that as well. The friends and choices I made, the lives I've saved. My fears and regrets were still there. All the pain was still there. But so were the things I knew to be proud of. I was still me. All the good and bad. There was, for once in my life, hope. I pushed myself to my feet, and the lions pounced. But it was not just my memories of the life I lived that returned.

I remembered my power. I remembered all of its intricacies. Not perfectly, I would have to get the rust off. But this would be the best time for it. It wasn't like I was consciously controlling it. More that as I thought of and suggested things to gravity itself, it worked with me. The lions stayed suspended in the air, weightless and inertialess.

"That's enough of that," I taunted, simply walking past the flailing lions, towards the thing I needed most if I was going to engage in this final battle. Through the smoke and steam in the wood, I could see it.

"What is this!?" The large lion claimed. Nemea. It all pieced itself together at that moment. This was the thing that was luring Gleditsia and Sequoia, and all of the ADU. She wanted payback. I was going to give it to her. I found it, through the smoke. My mask. Lifting it up, I slipped the accessory on as I turned to face her, looking up.

"This is where it all ends." Imposing weight was the easiest thing I could do. All of those smaller lions shattered from the sudden increase in pressure all around them, loose splinters flying in all directions. Nemea roared, rushing towards me. More weight slowed her down, but it seemed there were magical qualities to her. Ones that let her resist some of my power, but not all of it. I didn't need to move my hands, but if I was going to play hero, I might as well be theatrical.

I brought a hand up, fingers limp as the loose splinters of all the shattered lions hung in the air. I extended my digits as I imposed weight horizontally on them. Gravity sent them flying like a shotgun blast at Nemea, shattering off pieces of her. Around the two children she tried to use as hostages, I focused on the opposite directions. Nothing could touch them. They were able to just watch as I tore her bit by bit. This didn't stop her charge.

She seemed to go for a different strategy as vines and roots coiled and wrapped around me, attempting to constrict me. I still knew how to use gravity for strength. It felt so much more natural than before, now that I knew what I wanted was for gravity to assist me instead of me forcing it. Putting more weight in my arms, I spanned them out and tore the constricting vines apart. She kept charging, regardless. At this point, it was likely suicidal rage. I was more than happy to supply that inevitable ending. To her.

To Sequoia. To Gleditsia. However, I needed to make sure the kids were safe. In her sprint, she wasn't keeping them in precarious places. They simply hung overhead, trailing behind her. There was plenty of space between her and them, where those roots were most visible. I thanked Casney for teaching me Savate. Chris and Jairo for teaching me precision. I focused on my leg. I wanted to replicate what I did to Technofiend, but smaller. Thinner. Just enough to shear the vines.

I whipped up a bent leg forward, snapping my shin out. The force cleaved through the air, severing the vines and causing Sam and Sam's wooden cages to flop away. I had them floating in the air. Low gravity. Then I pointed gravity for them behind me, causing them to careen towards me, landing just at my feet as I turned and stepped forward. The kick had ripped apart the canopy, and through it I could see sunlight. No more hazy skies. I thanked Chris, and Jairo, and May, and Sam for their work.

They must've gotten Agent Richmond taken care of while I died. That meant I could take these kids home. Nemea grew closer, finally pouncing towards me. I imagined a wall of gravity, starting at me, pointing towards Nemea. I didn't want any backblast for this. In my arm, I coerced out the image of as much weight as possible. Like I was carrying the moon in my fist. And with that, I reared my hand back. As she finally came within arm's reach, I thrust my fist forward- BOOM Like a bomb went off.

The force of the blow didn't just shatter Nemea, it tore apart half of the Platanos' peak, fully exposing us to the sky above. Sunlight kissed my body as splinters were flung into the air. I knew that wasn't enough for Nemea, I could see vines and roots reaching out from each splinter to try and pull herself back together. But so separated like this, I knew she wasn't strong enough. So I focused on compaction.

Bringing them all together but putting on so much gravity that they couldn't actually take on a leonine form again. There was only one leo allowed around here. Reaching out towards the sky, I pointed towards the sun.

"Send her." Back before I had my memories back, I think I would've called this using about a hundred percent. Maybe a hundred and ten. Nemea's remains didn't even make a noise as they hurtled into the atmosphere, flying off to the one place they'd burn forever. I turned my focus to Sam and Sam as the tension died down, ripping open their containers and yanking them both out, to the shrieks and yells of joy from both of them.

"Are you two okay?"

"Just hungry-" Samara admitted, her stomach audibly growling. She looked like she hadn't eaten in days. Neither did her brother. A voice overcame my ear. I never took the damn thing out. I was surprised at how durable it was.

"Testing connection." Tancred.

"Leo- Hercules, can you hear me?" Letting both kids sit on my shoulders, gravity keeping them from falling off, I touched my earpiece.

"I hear you Tancred. It's over. Gleditsia, Sequoia, they're gone. Never coming back, either. I did it."

"Oh thank God. I'll send a message to your teammates. You can meet them in the middle. They managed to take out Richmond and Hidalgo, but that burn-the-tree plan Dr. Way had didn't work. Just made a bunch of smoke but the Wyrdwood itself wouldn't burn." If only he knew. But I'd tell him later. For now, I wanted to spook him a little.

"I'll meet them at the base of the tree. I want to show these kids a real high jump."

"Leo, don't you fucking dare-!" I leapt, gravity carrying us slowly down. Back to base. Back to my team.