Chapter 15: Angus's Tale.

The underground base was nothing like Yara had expected.

Carved beneath the ruins of an old printing press, the entrance had been cleverly hidden behind the remains of collapsed buildings. A rusted, half-buried door led them into a long, winding tunnel, its walls lined with flickering lanterns and old pipes dripping water. The scent of damp earth and oil filled the air, mixing with the faint, lingering smell of ink from a forgotten era.

Angus walked ahead, his sword still resting against his back, its worn leather sheath scraping against his coat. The tunnels stretched deep beneath the city, winding like a labyrinth before opening into a vast underground chamber.

The base was bustling with life.

Characters from all kinds of stories filled the cavern side characters, background extras, and even a few former villains who had abandoned their roles. Some wore tattered armor, remnants of battles they had long since abandoned. Others carried books, scrolls, or weapons, their expressions hardened from the struggles of surviving in a world that had twisted their narratives.

Yara remained silent, her black eyes scanning the scene with cold indifference.

Angus exhaled. "Home sweet home."

A few heads turned as they entered, some eyes filled with suspicion, others with recognition. A woman dressed in old-fashioned robes nodded at Angus before returning to her conversation. A young man, barely out of his teenage years, sat sharpening a dagger, his face marked by old scars.

No one approached them.

Angus gestured for Yara to follow as he led her deeper into the base, past makeshift tents and supply caches stacked against the walls. Eventually, they reached a quieter corner, where an old wooden bench sat against the stone wall.

Angus sat down with a grunt, rolling his shoulders. "Ye can sit if ye want, lass. I ain't gonna force ye."

Yara remained standing.

He smirked. "Aye, figured."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The distant chatter of the base filled the background, but neither of them spoke.

Then, Angus sighed, running a hand through his thick brown hair. "Ye know, even though ye ain't askin', I feel like tellin' ye a story."

Yara didn't react.

Still, he continued.

"I was a young lad, back in my world. A scrawny little thing, but full of dreams." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Back then, I had a hero. A real one. A warrior who didn't just fight for glory or revenge he fought because it was right."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "My village was small, tucked away in the highlands of ancient Scotland. We didn't have much just enough to live. But one day, that all changed."

His voice lowered, turning somber. "Then... The Stoor Worm came."

Even the mention of the name seemed to weigh heavy in the air.

"A beast of nightmares. A sea serpent so large, its breath alone could poison the land, rot the crops, and turn water to bile. Every Saturday at sunrise, it would yawn nine times, demandin' a meal of seven virgins. A cruel thing, aye? But the king of the land had no choice but to obey. It was either sacrifice, or the beast would swallow the entire kingdom whole."

His brown eyes darkened as he continued. "I was just a boy when it came near our village. My family was trapped, and there was no escape. The monster's breath choked the air, and the sky itself seemed to turn sickly and dark."

Yara listened in silence.

"Then he came. My hero."

A small, sad smile tugged at Angus's lips. "He wasn't a king or a noble knight. Just a man a warrior with a magic sword and a heart big enough to stand against the impossible."

He exhaled slowly, as if the memory pained him.

"The beast came, crawlin' out of the sea like a damn nightmare. Its breath turned the air foul, its eyes… gods, its eyes void of anythin' human, just hunger and death. The hero stood his ground, blade in hand, fearless."

Angus's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.

"He fought the Stoor Worm alone. He struck at its scales, cutting deep, wounding the beast in ways no one thought possible. But in the end… it wasn't enough."

Angus clenched his fists. "The serpent killed him. Right before my eyes. It crushed him in its jaws and tossed his broken body into the sea. But before he died… he made sure my family escaped."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if reliving the memory. "I cried that day. I was too young, too weak to do anything. But I swore I'd never be powerless again."

His fingers absentmindedly traced the hilt of his sword. "So I trained. Every single day. No rest. No excuses. I swung my sword until my hands bled, until my muscles screamed in agony. I wanted to be like him. To be strong enough to stand against monsters. 'Cause if I wasn't, then his death would've been for nothin'."

His voice lowered. "...But fate had other plans."

He gestured around them. "Now look where I am. Trapped in a world where stories collide, where everything's twisted beyond recognition. My hero? Forgotten. His sacrifice? Meaningless in a place like this."

A bitter chuckle escaped him. "And yet, here I am, still tryin' to be like him. A crazy fool, aye?"

Yara did not respond.

Angus sighed, leaning back against the bench. "Maybe I tell ye this because I see a bit of myself in ye, lass. A fighter with no place left to go."

Still, Yara remained motionless, her expression unreadable.

Angus smirked. "Aye, figured ye wouldn't say much."

A voice suddenly called from the distance.

"Angus! We need you at the eastern tunnels!"

He groaned, stretching his arms before standing. "Guess duty calls."

He glanced at Yara one last time. "Ye can stay if ye want. Ain't like anyone here's got the energy to kick ye out. Or ye can follow. Up to ye."

The memory burned in his mind. The hero's blood spilling near the seas.. The way he whispered his very last final words:

"...Keep swingin' that sword alright..?"

"So.. Never stop."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked off toward the tunnels, his long sword clanking softly against his back.

Yara watched him disappear into the crowd.

For the first time in a long while, she wasn't entirely sure what to do next.