Time Tangence

The last thing Bagwis Batumbangkaw remembered was the crushing weight of defeat and the glaring truth: he failed. 

His body was worn out by the years of struggle and had finally given in. The Legendary Lonewolf, Sitan—his master—could do nothing more for him.

The cold fingers of death slowly curled around him as his body slowly gave in to his mediocre fate. His master had warned him multiple times that the forbidden arts was not for the weak, more specifically, not for those who hadn't built the necessary foundations since childhood.

But Bagwis—like the drowning man he was, grasped at his only hope in sheer desperation.

His master, stood over him, breathing heavily, his face looking unreadable.

"Master... I'm dying, aren't I?"  Bagwis rasped, his voice weak but his mind was all too aware of the pitiful state that he was currently in. If the clan can see me now they would be laughing at me in mockery. He ironically thought.

The old man snorted, glaring down at him with the kind of disdain as if looking at a stubborn child. "What kind of useless question is that, you brat? Dying? Hah! If you were dying, I'd be rid of your whining by now." The old man's lip curled in disgust. "You're not that lucky you imbecile."

Bagwis let out a lighthearted laugh at his masters words. Ah, the charm of my old master. He can ask nothing more but to be insulted in my deathbed.

He knew better than to believe and take comfort at what his master said. His master's gruff words were meant to encourage him, but Bagwis—felt his very own life slowly slipping away.

He was much too old, too worn down from the arts he had learned. After all, it had been a gamble from the very start. Training in the forbidden arts in his thirties? Utterly ridiculous. 

His body had betrayed him, and no amount of bravado could change that fact no matter how hard he tries to fool himself.

If only he'd been younger, if only he'd started sooner. But alas, regret had always been his constant companion, hadn't it?

"You'll be fine," his master growled, more to himself than to Bagwis with his usual sound of annoyance but the cracks in his voice showed his true emotions.

Bagwis knew his own state best— he wasn't fine. He was far from it. 

If he had started learning the arts at an earlier time then things could've played out differently. But alas it wouldn't be his life if there was no flavor of irony.

He had lived an unremarkable life, and now he was about to die an equally unremarkable death. Bravo, truly. A standing ovation for this grand tragedy he calls life!

As he felt his tiny flicker of consciousness slowly fade into nothing he once again heard his master speak.

"Trust me. You'll be fine." Bagwis frowned feeling that there was something amiss his old master's tone, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine.

His master's voice had changed—less annoyed, more... urgent. He was far too aware of that tone. That was what his master sounded like when he was about to do something monumentally dumb and stupid. Bagwis' eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. 

"No, wait—" he coughed, blood splattering onto his lips, but he forced the words out anyway. "Master! You stupid old man! Don't even think about it! You can't use that technique!"

The old man's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping dangerously. "Pipe down you brat. You're in no position to tell me what I can or can't do." His master, per usual berated a man in his thirties like he was some snotty child.

"Don't give me that crap you old shitbag!"  Bagwis' heart pounded despite his weak body state. Panic began to replace his dull acceptance of his upcoming death. "Time Tangence— the cost is too great! You know that! You can't—"

"Shut up you shithead! You're years too early to be yelling at someone as great as me!" the Lonewolf barked, cutting him off, his fists clenched tight. "You're dying. If you don't go back, if you don't get a second shot at this, you'll stay dead. I'm not letting that happen. No disciple of mine is dying! Not on my watch! I wont allow it!"

Bagwis struggled to sit up, desperation clawing at his chest. "And what's it going to take, huh?! Your life?!" His voice cracked. "You think I don't know what that forbidden technique demands? Time Tangence—you're playing with time itself! You'll need to sacrifice something massive, something irreversible. Something you can't afford to give!"

The Lonewolf stared down at him, his jaw clenched so tight Bagwis could almost hear his teeth grinding in frustration. "I've lived a long enough life, Bagwis and I'm already contented."

Bagwis felt anger surge in his chest—anger at his own helplessness, anger at his master for being so damn stubborn. "You don't get to decide that!" he shouted, his voice ragged. "I'm not worth it! You'll be erasing yourself—don't you get it? Your entire existence! There's no returning from this!"

His master remained silent for a moment, looking at him with that familiar, stern expression—the one that told Bagwis he had already made up his mind.

"Whether I come back or not doesn't matter." The Lonewolf's voice softened, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through. "You have something more important to do. And I trust you to do it. As my sole disciple don't you dare bring me shame!"

Bagwis gritted his teeth, struggling to form words as his vision swam. "Old man...master please... don't do thi—"

Before he could finish, his master raised a hand.

Bagwis felt the air surrounding them shift, then a heavy and oppressive energy suddenly thickened the atmosphere. It was unmistakable. The forbidden arts—the one thing Bagwis had hoped his master would never use.

"Forbidden Arts: Time Tangence."

The world around them seemed to crackle and warp as those words left his master's lips. Bagwis could feel a strong pull—something unnatural, something ancient, reaching out to him, wrapping around him like invisible chains and slowly suffocating him—corrupted mana!

"No... don't..." Bagwis's voice was barely a whisper now as he glanced at his master with indignation. He could feel the life slipping from his master as the technique took hold. The price had already begun to be paid.

His master was fading—literally, the edges of his silhouette blurred as though he was being erased from reality itself.

No. No, no, no!

Bagwis attempted to reach out but his body refused to move according to his will. His heart pounded against his chest as his vision gradually turned blurry as the world around him started spinning faster and faster.

His last glimpse of his master was one of defiance—a small, sad smile on the old man's face as he vanished completely.

And the world went dark.