Finally, Allies? (Part 2)

83 minutes had passed. Word of Alan's arrival traveled through the other members of the guild until a third of them reunited in the main hall, bringing alcohol and snacks, and forming a circle to act as a ring.

Alan could be seen in the center, fists in a defensive stance, his face all bloody. He dashed forward against his opponent to attempt what they had forced him to do: 'Get a clean hit on any of us, and you can go.'

The smirking Shooting Star in front of him twirled like a ballerina and made him trip. The crowd laughed and cheered as Alan stood up and turned around to try again. **Huh?! Where did he go?!**

"Hey, Ghost!" his opponent said at his back, before applying an arm lock on him. "Do you need a hand?!"

The collective laughter erupted after seeing Alan's detached limb on the ground. **What the hell is happening here?!** he thought seconds after reviving, glaring at his next opponent who was asking the crowd to cheer for him. **I refuse to believe that Astrid would approve of this!**

Although the damage to his body had been reset, his mind was starting to falter. Alan could be seen squinting and gasping for air, although he was breathing through newly rendered lungs.

"Hey, Ghost, you don't look so well!" his new opponent said, making a spear appear from his inventory. "Here, I'll give you an advantage. Take it."

Alan knew it was a bluff, but rushed to grab the weapon anyway until an invisible force prevented him from even touching it. **Alan, you idiot…**

+++You do not have the required

level to use this weapon!+++

The group burst with laughter, and the guild member kicked Alan in the jaw, making him fall backward. "Sorry, sorry! I couldn't resist," the man sneered. "Here, I'll give you a chance this time. No joking. I'll just stay still, I promise!"

Alan snickered and spat blood over the guy's boots.

The man remained silent, wincing, before furiously kicking Alan in the stomach, getting rid of some of the bloodstains. "How weak," he muttered while returning to his spot in the crowd, crossing eyes with a girl, drinking from a bottle of wine. "Amelia, why don't you try it?"

"Is it a good way to relieve stress?" she asked after gulping.

"A good way indeed!"

"Fine." She finished her bottle and strolled to Alan, who was still respawning.

He heard the sound of high heels stopping in front of him, but when he looked up, he could only see a blurred silhouette towering over him, and a small red glimmer coming from it as if it was the eye of a demon.

"Stand up," the young woman ordered, putting her hands on her hips, glaring.

Although Alan looked like collapsing at any moment, he instinctively took a fighting stance before his sight finally focused on the glimmering red jewel, encrusted in the choker necklace in front of him. His eyes then focused on the owner, a girl his age of curvy figure, wearing a long, black, thigh-high slit dress, with long fiery-red hair that reached her thighs.

"I have a question for you, Alan Warden," she whispered. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I…"

"I asked," she started saying, while her hand emanated a red aura. "Where the hell have you been this whole time?! Major Fire Crafting, Dragonbreath!"

Flames burst from her palm and scorched him in an instant, forcing a mage from the crowd to cast a force shield in a fraction of a second before the fire reached them. "Dammit, Amelia, watch it!"

As soon as Alan started regenerating, Amelia decapitated him with her open palm.

"While we were working our asses off making this guild a top ranker, what were you doing, huh?!" she shouted, not waiting for his silhouette to take human form, stabbing him in what seemed to be the chest. "And what do you do when you finally decide to show up?! Steal from Lord Marco?! Did you think you would get away with this?!"

"How many times has she killed him already?" A guild member asked another, who shrugged.

"I've lost count. Eight, nine times?"

"That's enough, Amelia," a thunderous voice made himself heard from the hall's entrance.

The crowd made way and saluted him. ++"Welcome back, Lord Marco."++

Amelia made a curtsy in front of him, grinning warmly. Her right hand was still stained with Alan's blood. "Hi, Marco."

The man grabbed her by the chin. "Were you punishing him on my behalf? How cute."

Amelia blushed brilliantly. "I could do it all night if you ordered me to."

"No, sweetheart, it's my turn to speak to this… man."

Alan's body was still covered in pixels when he had Marco in his field of vision. **Is this the guy whose name I've been hearing this whole time?**

Marco appeared to be in his mid-twenties. A man of pale skin, black short hair, and golden eyes, wearing an elegant black business suit. **Disgustingly handsome and irritatingly charismatic. I wonder how many times he has changed his features to look like that.**

"We finally met, Alan Warden. My name is Marco Souza, the true Co-Leader of Shooting Stars." Following his words, the surrounding people cheered and got silent once he made a gesture with his hand. "Or that's what I would like to say because, since this morning, someone has usurped my job."

Alan could barely sneer. "Are you saying I did it?"

"That's what opportunists do when given the chance," the man spoke in a soft tone of voice. "They usurp, lie, steal… Like what you did today. Not only did you snatch away my position in the guild, but you also stole my paycheck. 100,000 gold... Did you think you could get away with it? Did you think you could just walk through these halls and everyone would call you leader after all this time? That effortlessly, you'd take command when everyone else has paid in blood and sweat to rise through the ranks?"

++"Yeah, show him, Lord Marco!"

++"Make him pay!"

"Pal…" Alan said, returning to his boxing stance. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

Marco stared at Alan thoughtfully before shortening the distance in a second, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground. A cracking sound was heard.

"Huh, I broke his neck." Marco patiently waited for the system to respawn Alan while speaking. "I don't have proficiency in elemental magic, you see, I can only cast the most basic of spells, such as this... Minor Fire Crafting..." He started casting, as flames emanated from his palm. "Blaze." Alan's body got incinerated in a matter of seconds, barely leaving him time to scream. "What was the most basic ice spell called?" Marco asked his followers.

"That would be 'Chill', sir."

"Oh, right. Let me help you fight that heat, Alan. Minor Ice Crafting, Chill… And now something that will shock you. Minor Lightning Crafting, Zap."

Alan's body fumed before collapsing and being reborn again, while everyone present stood silent. Not a single member was amused by the punishment anymore, but they did not take their eyes off as if it was their duty.

"That son of a…" Amelia whispered after watching Alan stand up for the thirtieth time.

"Hey, Marco Souza!" Alan cried, displaying anger for the first time since the 'challenge' started. "I didn't steal from you. This is a mistake!"

Marco chuckled while staring deep into his eyes. "As I was saying, I'm not an elemental mage. I specialize in dark magic. I'm a warlock, you see. We like to mess with our opponents' minds and inflict them with pain that the best of armors can't stop. Allow me to show you..." Marco started channeling mana.

**That looks like it'll take him a long ass time!**

Alan pulled out the only weapon in his inventory, his rusty sword, and launched himself forward, but Marco got out of his sight.

The next thing Alan saw was Marco's palm.

"Mayor Dark Conjure..."

"Stop!"

"Slumbermare…"

*

*

*

A scene unraveled in Alan's mind. A picture of something he did not want to think through. **Please don't!**

The Santa Maria's white corridors, stained with blood... **I don't want to see it!** And small drone units mopping the floor, removing every trace of ruin. But the stench remained... **I refuse to believe it!**

Automatons carrying bodies... **Please, just stop!**

And throwing them into the dark coldness of space.

**Don't show me this! Did you think I hadn't thought about it?! Of course I did, I'm not stupid! But I refuse to believe that things developed in that way!**

Another vision of an automaton, engulfed in shadows, with red electronic eyes, entering the cryo-chambers. **No, no, no, no, no!** Standing in front of a sleeping pod, where a blonde teenager rested. Was that Astrid's pod?

**Marco, are you seeing this?!**

The automaton stepped into the light, carrying a knife, revealing it wore Ashley's face.

**Because I hope you're enjoying the show, asshole! That's what I've been dealing with for the last eight real-life months! So while you enjoyed your stay here, acting like a goddamn mafia boss, I was out there, making sure your asses remained glued to your backs, you prick!**

***

**

*

"MARCO, ARE YOU OKAY?!" Amelia cried out to the unconscious Warlock, who had suddenly collapsed.

Marco sat down slowly, still shaken, looking at the smirking, sweaty guy kneeling in front of him.

Alan sneered. "If what that cute redhead said is true, and Shooting Stars are at the top of the world, I don't believe even for a second that it was you who made it possible!"

"What?" Marco grunted, standing up.

Amelia watched as he clenched his fists. "Marco…"

"I bet it was all thanks to Astrid's effort, and you were only here for the ride!" Alan continued. "I bet that she whipped your lazy bums daily until shaping you all into elite warriors!"

Grunts of discontent and promises of making him suffer were heard, but Marco shut them all up after making a hand gesture, smirking.

"Do you know how we used to call you before meeting your stupid face? 'Alan, the Ghost'. We joked about you being invisible, or that you had died and your name was nothing but a glitch on the Guild's member list... So how could you know how we rose to the top if you've never been here?"

"To everyone gathered here!" Alan shouted, still too weak to stand up. "Your beloved Lord has told you all that I stole his paycheck, right? Do any of you have a 'pickpocket' ability? If so, use it and see how much you can get from me. Come on! Spoilers, I don't have it! Just think about it! How could I take money from him if I wasn't even here?! You called it a paycheck, right?! That means that there's someone in charge of the guild's vault! How could I, a pathetic level 5, steal it then, huh?! Think for yourselves for at least one second, you morons!"

Alan observed the crowd, desperately searching for someone nodding or sharing whispers, someone who was finally reflecting on his words. But all the guild members had their lips sealed, and their gaze remained unapologetically cold.

"Even if that's true," Amelia spoke aloud, "that wouldn't justify that you snatched away Lord Marco's position as Co-Leader!"

++"Yeah, even if you're the guild's founder, what makes you think you can come here and steal his rank after playing around somewhere else!"

++"We don't like deserters, and even less so those that weren't here during this guild's hard times!"

"Try to defend yourself from that, Ghost," Marco said, smirking.

**They know,** Alan thought, glancing at Amelia's mocking grin. **All these people should know Marco is wrong, they just don't care.** Alan gritted his teeth, glaring at the initiator of it all.

"After what you saw inside my mind, do you still want to continue with this charade?"

"What I saw doesn't concern me." Marco shrugged. "As I see it, those images were nothing more than the fractured psyche of a shadow of a man."

"Wow," Alan said, raising his eyebrows. "I can now see that Astrid didn't hire you for your wits..."

Marco chuckled, raising a hand and engulfing himself in a black aura. "Major Dark—"

An explosion shook the building.

Something crashed through the ceiling at high speed, cracking the tiled floor. In front of them stood a black lion, which folded its white wings to let its rider get down. Alan first heard heeled boots stroll towards them.

The moonlight entered through the breach in the ceiling and shone on a blonde girl wearing a blue formal military uniform. Her blue eyes looked like two orbs of dry ice.

**Wait… is that…?**

"A-Astrid…" Alan muttered as soon as he met her gaze. Seeing her familiar face was more than comforting "Wow…" He chuckled, as he gradually lost his balance. **You look damn good…** he thought, before blacking out.