Blind Judgment, Part Four.

Alex escaped. He burst through the impenetrable glass surrounding Retly's capital, transitioning to roll as the Giant landed upon the ground. Resuming his sprint after recollecting his posture with kicking legs and moving arms, the Giant stomped, leaving hissing footprints. Any insect would cauterize and steam as they were crushed under the weight of his gigantic foot, but he kept pushing. Forward, forward, no matter what—for the sake of himself, for the sake of his children. To not only them again but feel the warmth of their smiles like the sunlight shining against him.

The thought of Katie's permanent grin and Ace's irritating impudence sent Alex's lips to an upturn, forming a smile. The flashes of their faces lit a fire in his heart that continued to burn without signs of halting. He seemed like he'd been running for miles under the sun's domain, and eventually, he fell to one knee, then collapsing into the other.

The curtain of night had already descended.

His Giant's steaming skeleton gradually disintegrating as he limped from its head, Alex noticed a cliff in the distance. Gentle breaths controlled by a cycling pattern of inhalation and exhalation—surely, there was only so much he could take. He'd reached his limit however long ago, he was only running on fumes now. Standing at the verge of a cliff, he stared down and rubbed his eyes. Was his sight mistaking him? He rubbed his eyes again. Nope, his sight wasn't. At the bottom of the ravine under the dark blue starry night sky laid a civilization. A town. Whatever would be there?

He could only cross his fingers and pray that more of Relty's forces weren't positioned down there, awaiting his arrival. But there was only so much the human mind could fatefully predict. Whether they'd threaten his exasperated being further or tend to his exhaustion was up for fate to decide, as he started to slip at the edge of the cliff… and fell through the air. His conscience left at that moment, consciousness engulfed by a black void. He drifted away into vast fantastical sceneries, leaving his fate to whatever Gods orchestrated the unseen strings of the New World's intricacies.

Eventually, he would crash into the town's streets, a dusty wave rebounding from his impact, pebbles smashing against townsfolk's windows. Immediately, the civilians ran out of their homes, their eyes locked onto his still form. One of the townsfolk turned his head to the cliff above, raising their eyebrows, murmuring under his breath,

"How did he…?"

He pushed away from the gossiping crowd so he could slide to his knees, grabbing Alex by his nape while uplifting his head. There was no mistaking it, for as he recognized this man's face, as did everyone else—and it was like a scenery plucked from a fairy tale scribbled onto ancient paper. That unforgettable vision engraved into their thoughts, an oracle that preordained the fate of the world, however distant the future may be.

The student of a Reaper and second son of the Allfather.

Brown swaying stands flowing with the chilled wind's direction, retinas the same holy shade as heaven's glow and tanned skin akin to caramel's hue. The promised time had undoubtedly arrived. On this day, in this place, had he Incarnated.

"Get me a doctor!" The townsman demanded loudly, "He's not hurt but he needs food and water!"

And so, through the embers of hazy consciousness, Alex could witness that bearded man's grizzly features.

The next thing he saw was an unrecognizable ceiling riddled with lines layered across one another. Scratching his head, he slid apart the blanket shielding his body, peering his muscular shape--his abs littered across his chest. Shaking his head while sleepily groaning, Alex turned his head, peering out the window beside him. The darkness was overtaken by light's dominance, the sun's shine forming dusty particles through the air, sprinkling onto the sheet before him.

"This is...?" Alex asked quizzically while his eyes examined his environment.

A door opened, and his head jerked at the female body entering, leaving Amara's hand to momentarily glow as he hid it behind his back. Holding a metal tray with multiple breakfast foods strewn across the platter, the brunette turned her head and smiled. That grin... reminded him of his white-haired mother.

"So you're finally awake, huh?" Asked the older woman, stepping closer, "It's an honor to meet someone like you, y'know. A peasant Retlyian graced with the presence of one of the three Requiem Saviors."

Alex's eyebrow upturned at that title, rubbing his temples with two fingers, slipping his legs from the bed's parameters.

"I don't know where you got the 's' from but there are no other Requiems in existence anymore. I'm the only one... 'less you mean Rivers or something," Alex corrected tiredly, speech slurring.

"No, no! Last month, everyone had a dream, but it didn't feel like a dream... it was more like a vision," Dazzled by the distant memory of her mind's fantasy, the girl smiled, garnering Alex's worried face.

"The future was carved out before us, so clear and sharp. His white hair was identical to Angelic wings with a green eye that ignited hope in the hearts of man. Another red destined to obliterate all with a diverging wave of absolute dominance. But, all that, somehow, originating somewhere within us Retlyians, we were assured of that truth: he is the savior of this world. The Requiem Reaper. Augustus Rivera."

His heart started to pound, rapidly beating within his chest, Alex's eyes now widened... bloodshot veins popping out the eyeballs' corners. To think such a lie could be told to his face and not a shade of skin could alter from the speaker. Chills appeared over her skin, goosebumps popping out her back.

"What... did you say?" Grimaced Alex through clenched teeth, "August's been dead for years. So what the hell are you talking about?"

The door behind the woman opened, revealing the same bearded man, donning a buttoned-up shirt hiding his hairy chest. Head perking up, he smiled,

"Oh, you're awake, I see. Come, then. After you eat I have something to show you. Let's go, dear."

The man tapped his wife's arm. Al witnessed the sight of her lingering eye worriedly gazing upon his features before the door ultimately shut.

Following their retreat, Alex cracked his back and slid off the mattress. Scraping the wooden floors with his tanned bare feet, he noticed the hair surrounding his crotch and felt his shoulders subconsciously fall.

"I need to shave."

He exited the house, momentarily blinded by the overwhelming sunlight. Palm hovering over both eyes, Alex was guided through the dirtied streets by that same bearded man. Clad in the same hoodie he'd fought in earlier, now cleansed, his hood moved in tandem with the erratic flow of the late winter's chilly winds. Swatting away the sweeping dust making his eyes itch as it blew onto his face, he cleared his throat into the air.

"I heard that wife of yours say something about y'all bein' peasant Retlyians. What's the history there?" Alex asked, exiting the dusty cloud after his guide.

"You dunno? Someone of your stature—I thought my wife'd tell you," The man replied without turning his head.

"Ah, well…" Al scratched his nape, "What can I say, I like my reveals dramatic and lengthy."

"Haha! I understand the sentiment."

The haziness settled, revealing the shiny bronze shade of that iconic statue. White strands tinted a snowy temperature, in reality, stood muted in brown metal. Like a page torn out a fairy tale, that sculpture penetrated the clouds and reach the Heavens. To think he truly felt the ground beneath his feet and the air flowing between his hair. That this far into the future would he be reminded of a time so forgettable as that past.

Granted such luxuries from his friendship with Rose, they rid to the Academy in a limo's back. And in that center, next to Central Park, there was that iconic statue shining against the early summer's blistering heat. To think it'd persisted onward across the nonlinear seas of time to incarnate alongside him in this New World. Memories of that ignorant past came flying through his mind's forefront, where he believed his family to be 'righteous.'

"Not too long ago, Retly was constructed under the Jester's authorization after he slaughtered the government superpowers overseeing the initial organization. It was hidden in a desert devoid of water and around the secret Capital, there was an impenetrable glass bubble surrounding the city. For a while, despite our ruler's controversial history... it was peaceful," The man recounted.

Alex stepped forward, brushing his fingers along the bronze figure, and exhaling as he withdrew his cuticles... extremities tips cocooned in the dusty excrements. Rubbing his fingers together, he sighed. Nothing ever did stop at simply 'peaceful,' did it?

"Until sometime last year. The Jester... changed. Nothing subtle or slight, more obvious than ever before. Perhaps he was intrigued by the limit of humanity's potential or maybe it was something else. Either way, I've come to believe that the truth is that he's simply a monster. Icarus Chrollo, the Jester King, never cared for us. He simply deemed us as experiments, guinea pigs to be tested for his amusement," The man explained, causing Al's head to turn.

"What'd he do to you all?"

"Exactly what I said. Experimentation with demonic energies. Altered on a genetic scale to expand humanity's chaotic nature to a higher limit than before. But it wasn't carefully analyzed. Instead, it was random. Some chosen were random civilians, others were billionaires. Long story short, it didn't matter who you were before the experimentation as long as it was a success," Said the man, shrugging his shoulders.

"And lemme guess, he threw away the failures to some already-established base in case the need for them ever arose again in the future. Right?" Asked Alex, curiously clarifying.

"Right you are. Long story short, we ended up here, and now we're peasant Retlyians. Bunch of half-demon Hybrids who don't belong anywhere who could so much as turn into monsters with a single scream," The man replied.

"Mm," Alex grumbled, "Well, I know I can't stay here much longer. Thanks for the history lesson and treatin' me."

The Judge and the man shared a firm handshake, leading the latter of the two to vent a modest chuckle.

"Haha, it's my pleasure, sir! After all this time hoping y'all were real, to have it confirmed like this is... rather humbling. We need more saviors like you, y'know?"

Alex seemed puzzled at first, but upon further inspection, as he looked at his hand, he chuckled. How was he so blind to realize? The color of his skin he so casually ignored as part of himself. While they weren't the same tone, the man before him had brown skin.

"Heh, I get what you mean. I've been ignorant of who I am for so long. Thanks for reminding me," Alex gifted his helper with a shoulder pat before quickly turning away, throwing his hood over his hair.

Taking some steps forward, he hesitated. Instead of persisting, his waist spun and his bearded features could be seen by the dark-skinned man. Parting his lips after taking some time to find the correct words, he shifted his weight, raising his hand from its cover in the pocket.

"What's your name?" He asked, increasing his voice's volume.

"Oh! Josh, sir! My name is Josh!" He replied with a wave to the predestined savior.

"Josh…" He whispered, "Alright! I'll be sure to remember you when the time comes!"

Alex finally turned away, the indistinct thanks of the townsfolk echoing in his mind, fading to the background—allowing for his thoughts to replace the silence. Breathing carefully, he turned back one last time. He was possibly lost in the intricacies of that spell, trancing him so easily, a breath followed. From that point on, he never looked back, and within an instant, he vanished without a trace.

The townsman turned away, retracting his arms from behind his back as a crunch entered his ears. The sound of a boot sinking into the sand, surely, it was him. Spinning toward him and forwarding into a kneel, a raspy voice spoke to him.

"So? What do you think?" Asked the raspy voice.

"You were right, sir. His aura is unsurpassed, no one else compares to his glory. How did you know… Mr. Rivers?" Asked Josh without a head hung, gazing into his soft stare seeping off that sole red eye.

"Ah, well—call it a hunch."

To Be Continued.