The Puppeteer

Under the unhindered moonlight, the Edarin house lay bare—exposed and vulnerable. It was loud, filled with the clashing voices of a family fractured by fear.

"I will not just sleep not knowing what happened!" The words rang out again, desperate, insistent. It was Karl Edarin.

Beside him, his mother turned to his father, voice trembling. "Ed, you said he was seen at the Institute. W–we can ask Leon about Leia's whereabouts."

Edward clenched his jaw, regretting his words. Yes, Leon had reappeared. But it was only hours after the invasion.

"It's not certain that she's with him. Ley could just be hiding somewhere," Edward argued, his voice firmer now, defensive. The presence of Tipun's tribesmen in Fenros made the situation precarious. Returning wasn't an option.

"We were invaded by the delegates of Tipun. There are many of the tribesmen within Fenros, we can not return right now." He said firmly, not accepting any more backtalk.

His wife's face twisted with worry. With the only other Enlightened of Oran missing, they had only Stella Venti to protect them. 'Find your path outside the storm.' She prayed for Leia's safety.

But Karl was far from acceding to staying put. Despite his exhaustion, he began walking with his gear, "I will find her myself."

He didn't make another step before Edward knocked him unconscious.

Holding his son in his arms, Edward felt tears sting his eyes. 'My son has become brave... but still foolish.'

Looking up, he saw the Sentinels in the distance. He had seen Leon walking there—his once bright, curious eyes dulled, replaced by something lifeless.

White eyes that now belonged to the dead.

Leon, who had always been close to Leia, stood there, just within reach. Edward could have called out, could have asked the boy where his daughter was. But the moment his gaze landed on those hollow, lightless eyes, his voice died in his throat.

A cold weight pressed against his chest, the same weight he felt when facing a truth too terrible to name. He knew—he knew—that whatever answer Leon gave, it would change everything. And so, Edward did nothing. He only watched, paralyzed by the fear that the truth would be worse than his silence.

As Edward stared at the calm, dark sky—his son unconscious, his back turned to his wife—tears finally fell.

His lips quivered, but he quickly silenced them.

His hands trembled, but he clenched them into fists.

'How dare they.'

'Malrik the Puppeteer.' Edward closed his eyes.

'You will pay.'

* * *

Leon was falling, undecided if he should stop resisting, or try to survive. His eyes on Hallen, one of his past teachers.

'What if...'

A doubt slithered into his mind. He considered the possibility that perhaps, everyone has hidden their true intentions.

'No, that is... impossible.'

He clung to his cherished memories, to certainty. He remembered the faces of those who raised him. Those he grew up with.

Selia, the worrywart, the first face he had ever seen—her brown hair always at shoulder-length, her concern never wavering. 'Why would she change?'

Garthem, whose voice carried the weight of command, had always been a pillar in their home. He never faltered, never showed uncertainty. 'Father... Would even he change?'

Tanya had given him his first dozen or so names. And he remembered each one. 'Tanya had never stopped showering me with her joy, infecting me with it despite the pain she hides. Would she change now?'

And Felix—the one who once kept his distance, but then accepted him. His first triumph. 'Would he change?'

Leon tried to convince himself that they would be different. That his family would always be supporting him. But the doubt still clawed at him, tearing his fragile mind apart.

'I will see them first. And then... I will pick to stay or if I—if I leave.' Even his thoughts were fragmented. The fear of them turning on him numbing.

And then he reached the ground.

Almost—Thump

So quickly he was dazed, the bipedal one was faster than the small one and stronger than the first one. Its right hands reached him before he reached the ground.

'I will live until I see them.' He quickly gathered himself.

The bipedal one used both right arms to drive its fingers in the right of his abdomen.

Leon grabbed both of its hands, twisting despite the pain. And pulled himself away before getting hit by the left side of the beast.

He landed but didn't even take an instant to shoot at the slow one. He easily moved past both its limbs and reached its face.

'You will die first.' Leon grabbed the beast's head, put his right foot forward and pointed his left knee back—mimicking Hallen's stance.

And then punched with all the strength gathered from his feet up to his left fist.

The beast exploded apart, black tar evaporating into nothing.

For a moment, silence.

Even under Malrik's thrall, the vile beasts felt fear.

Leon was subconsciously using his Will. Because that is natural, every desire a person has is also their will.

But each time he wielded it, something was lost. Something precious.

He didn't know.

He wouldn't care.

He quickly dashed to the first beast, seamlessly evading its remaining limbs and imagined a sword in his hands.

He reached the beast and put his fists out, as if readying for a vertical slash. His entire body primed to cut, he swung.

No sword appeared, but a line that followed the motion of his hands drew across the beast, past the vile beast, the line reached the massive tree behind it—the tree where Malrik and Hallen were perched.

Leon quickly had to use his hands to block towards his right. The bipedal beast was behind him, now fearless.

He ducked and then leapt forward, towards the floating Hallen.

Leon willed his legs to reach him, and sprung. Hallen was wreathed in flames that burned brightly, attracting the attention of a boy high above.

The flames expanded further and spun, it was beginning to resemble a spherical tornado.

Leon ignored the burns, and avoided a blast of hot air that would have sent him down, willing it to disappear.

Panicking, Hallen tried blasted himself back, but that energy soon disappeared as well.

His throat was held in Leon's hand. Who took the time they had in the air to consider what to do.

'He is a betrayer. Not only to me but the Academy.'

His decision was made as he looked towards the fast approaching bipedal.

He crushed the throat, and then ripped it from his neck mid air. Blood rained on him for he had to twist to perform the brutality.

While the flames faded away, he reached the ground.

In front of him was the small beast, and behind was the bipedal.

He ducked first and then jumped forward to the right—the bipedal always struck in sequence horizontally; right limbs first, then left.

Dodging without looking back, Leon hardened his palm, treating it like a blade. The palm pierced the small beast's midsection. Leon didn't mind the small wounds he received to kill it.

Malrik left at this moment, he had used a majority of his animations in the invasion. Now they are all either dead or useless in battle.

He now rode on a six legged one, quickly moving south. 'I have to live.'

Leon noticed this and rapidly sprinted towards them. Every part of him was in terrible shape. Multiple holes in his abdomen, burn marks, and wounds scattered around his body.

When he leapt to kill Hallen, it left his legs numb. He was now only moving them through grit. The bipedal on the other hand, was unharmed. It quickly reached Leon, and swung again.

Leon jumped to avoid the rights, but didn't attempt to dodge the left strike. He angled himself to be propelled instead, then kicked at the fists the same time he was struck.

It broke his ankles but he was just behind Malrik now. Once again he imagined a sword in his hands, and this time swung horizontally.

The slash only cut three legs off and wounded another, for he rushed to perform it. But Malrik fell to the ground—or didn't.

In his place was a terribly wounded vile beast, with no limbs and half alive.

The revelation froze Leon, his immobility had caused him to be struck. The bipedal finally learned, and this time, used both lower fists.

Leon was sent flying by the double uppercut, but he only thought of the encounter within that cave.

'He killed them.'

'And he killed me.'

Malrik was the attacker of the Academy. As well as his own, and his friends' killer.

Fueled by his anger, he greeted the bipedal below him with the same energy-annihilating move he used against Hallen's flames. It took the most toll on him, causing his mind to feel numb, almost forgetting his rage.

Calm once again, he grabbed the head of the bipedal, his own reach now longer because it was left without arms.

Then crushed it. Black bone fragments and liquid darkness flowed down his palms.

Covered in blood and thick tar, he turned towards where his instincts pointed. He took a step forward–

–and fell.