Death Clock

A few words coming from the depths of his soul, full of panic, despair, and true desire forced Morbia to hush, silence took over the whole place, as if the world itself decided to stop.

But...

Click.

The watch hand moved, emitting a clear click, they only had ten, short seconds left.

"You want to be happy? Fine, I hear you!"

Morbia exclaimed in a hoarse voice while Tron's hands gripped her neck tightly.

"We will be partners until I break the seal on my powers, and you become a human. Do you agree?!"

Only five seconds remained on the clock.

"FUCK! Idiot just say YES, or we'll both die!"

The black clots almost completely engulfed Tron's body, approaching his empty, pain-filled eyes.

"I agree..." Tron muttered in the last three seconds.

Normally, a handshake was necessary to make a contract, but any physical contact was enough, even that wild and rough.

The watch hand was about to move on, the last second was running out.

Then, before their time was up, a wave of purple light swept through, stopping everything in its tracks.

The black hand of the Eye, opened its palm, something slowly began to emerge, stretching the dry skin.

The sharp tip cut through the flesh, revealing a long sword with a wide purple blade, cascades of lightning passed over the edges while seven bloodshot eyes positioned along the sword moved vigorously in a frenzy.

Tron and Morbia were totally immobilized, they could only watch as the sword pierced through Tron, exited through his stomach to travel the exact same path over Morbia.

The seven eyes stopped and shone brightly with scarlet light as an ancient law. In the air between Morbia and Tron, symbols in an unknown language appeared under their frozen gazes, forming a contract.

The finished contract turned into two red flashes, with the speed of light they entered their chests, at the same time, the Eye pulled its sword from their bodies and disappeared into the void without a trace.

[Contract #000000161914 has been concluded.]

[The contract was placed in the 'Special' category.]

[The Eye of the Kyrexo Loop will personally oversee the contract.]

[The contract will be terminated when Morbia La Doux breaks the seal and Tron becomes a human.]

[If the contract is terminated before both conditions are met, The Eye of the Kyrexo Loop will kill both of them.]

A mechanical voice filled Tron's head, then he looked at his chest, running his hands over it to make sure he wasn't hurt.

Morbia's eyes went wide, full of disbelief. Then, she slowly crawled out under the Tron towering over her.

"Special category?!"

This was definitely not good news, just not for her.

"Fuck! It's all because of you!"

Without hesitation, she kicked Tron in the face not holding back the force, the sole of her shoe flew right into his nose, throwing him backwards.

Tron fell to the floor, two trickles of blood quickly reached his lips, and a few crimson drops fell on his tongue through his ajar mouth.

A metallic taste with a strong, distinct scent filled Tron's mind.

"Oh... Is that the taste of blood? Curious, but not at all as delicious as sugar."

Tron wiped the blood from his mouth, slowly rising and looking around. His gaze traveled to the broken cups and sugar scattered on the floor.

'How strange. I can't even figure out what that emotion was that I felt at that moment. I've never experienced myself like... like what?'

Step. Step. Another Step.

For a while, Morbia walked in circles, trying to calm herself down. Her original plan didn't work, she couldn't make Tron her servant, but at least she was alive, and Tron's Incarnation had been averted.

After a moment, she stopped, raising her gaze to him.

"Fine, now we are partners, our goals are defined, we need a plan. First, stand in front of me, I want to test how freely I can use your energy."

Tron raised an eyebrow, baffled.

"My energy? I don't know what you've got in mind, but as you said yourself I'm the Black One, not even a human. You, a Harbinger or whatever it's called. I have no idea how to use that flaming cross like that man did."

"Hahaha, a flaming cross?"

The corners of Morbia's lips curved up, forming a mocking smirk.

"It's called the Spark, it's a weapon of the Harbingers, our power. You should start getting used to how the real world works by now."

With that, Morbia glanced at her wrist with expectation in her gaze.

"My powers are sealed, but I'm not deprived of them. I just can't use my energy, but since you and I are bound by contract and we are partners, I can borrow your energy. I wanted to make you my servant to control your actions as well, but... you ruined it."

Tron shrugged nonchalantly. He beat for himself the best conditions. And, he didn't mind letting Morbia use his energy.

'That man's ability looked powerful. If Morbia is capable of the same, then I'm willing to give her my energy. After all, until I become a human she'll be obligated to help me, right? You can't break the contract, but... why is the contract number so strange? Ah, never mind.'

At a wave of his hand, Tron stood in front of her.

Morbia confidently extended her arm, with a satisfied smirk on her face. Even if it didn't equal breaking the seal, it was a confident step forward.

Soon, her lips parted:

"Blossom - the Grief Flower."

The words flew off Morbia's sweet smile, while her gaze filled with thirst for power and authority.

For a moment, a spectral red thread formed between them, connecting their fate as well as their energies, allowing Morbia to use Tron. It should have.

Disbelief covered Morbia's face.

"Agh...?"

Her wide-eyed eyes started running down her hand and Tron - nothing happened.

Curiosity reflected in Tron's black eyes.

"Hmm? Where's your flaming cross, oh the Spark, right, where's your Spark? Perhaps you said something wrong?"

Tron tilted his head, he figured Moriba's phrase was some sort of incantation.

The realization came slowly, Morbia clutched her head, her eyes were nervous, she was trying to figure out what was wrong.

"I could not make a mistake! Those words are burned into my mind! I know them better than my own fucking name! What's more, I don't feel like I have access to your energy at all!"

Itches. Itches. Itches.

A slight, repetitive noise caught Morbia's attention, causing her to look at Tron, his face a frown, he was trying to get rid of an unpleasant burning sting.

"Wait... Why are you scratching your wrist...?"

Tron scowled, starting to scratch even harder.

"I don't. I just felt like it, it's like there's something stuck there. It's weird..."

"Partners, right...?"

Morbia whispered with a shaky look, her skin turning as pale as a piece of paper and the will to live reaching the lowest depths experienced by her as she realized what had happened.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Fucking the Eye!" 

Enraged, Morbia smashed her hideout with a savage grimace, both dishes thrown on the floor and old furniture coming under attack.

"FUCK! Why did everything go so wrong!!!"

A desperate scream ripped from her throat, bringing the chair crashing to the floor. Splinters flew off to the sides as a sign of her righteous anger.

Tron tilted his head, curiously watching as Morbia ripped her hair, pulling the crimson locks from her head.

'Are all real people so emotional? It looks dangerous, but it's also interesting...'

Step. Step. Step.

With a fiery stride, Morbia approached Tron and grabbed him by the collar.

Their gazes met, her green eyes, bloodshot with anger, trembled.

''Because you didn't want to be my servant, the Eye made a contract in which we are partners, equals. I can't use your energy, but it's certainly possible, which means... of the two of us, only you have access to our energy..."

Morbia clenched Tron's collar even tighter, gritting her teeth, it looked like sparks were about to fly, her veins bulging from the rage brewing inside her.

"Argh! Shit, letting you use your energy... what a shame. Not only are you not a Harbinger, you're not even human!"

Looking at her hands, swollen veins trembling and fingers tense, Tron glared at Morbia.

"So... What can I do?"

"Well... Listen, I haven't told you this yet, but now I just have to admit it. Even though you're the Blank, you're special."

Tron pointed at himself, as if not believing her words.

Special? In his gray world, in the Outer Loop, such a thing simply did not exist. In the gray world, there could be no colorful patches of difference.

Morbia nodded.

"You're a Black One. That's the name of the extremely rare Blanks that were able to regain consciousness and leave the Outer Loop. Although... Technically, you are now a Half-Blank. As you begin to feel the emotions of the real world, the Incarnation process has begun in you."

Excitement filled his eyes. He was closer to real life than ever, now he didn't want to part with it for anything.

"But the contract stopped my transformation, I won't be a monster anymore, right?"

All he saw in response was a sly smirk.

"Not exactly. The contract temporarily stopped your transformation because the Eye interfered, and you got my energy. You'll see it all soon enough, first, you should have a better understanding of who you are."

"That man on the bridge, he wanted to absorb you since the Black Ones have an enormous amount of energy. However, that doesn't mean you have any special power like me or that man. Right now, you're nothing more than an active core that didn't awaken its powers."

Morbia took a deep breath, staring away with a calm gaze.

"At the same time, your status is lower than a human, yet higher, because ordinary humans don't have energy like you. Close your eyes and think about the burning in your wrist to stop. That's how you get into the Void. You're not a Harbinger, so normally you wouldn't be able to do this, but since you're a Black One, with my energy you can."

'I am the Black One...? Alright, I'll have to give it a try.' Tron thought for a moment.

He decided to do as she said. It was unclear to him what exactly she was talking about, the real world was new to him and full of mystery, but now at least he could feel .

The darkness in front of his eyes was faint, unstable because of the light in the room. A few dim lamps in the far corners did their job.

But, as soon as Tron took a deep breath, the red thread appeared between them again, bringing impenetrable darkness with it into Tron's mind. Even if the sun were in front of him, he wouldn't see a speck of light.

The Void was where the power of the Harbinger was concentrated, but... for Half-Blanks going to become Black Ones. It was also possible to enter the Void if there was a power source.

Click. Click. Click.

Deafening clicking sounds rang out, slow and oppressive.

Tron opened his eyes only to see a massive object, a black piece of monolith, scraped granite from fallen rock, emitting only an ominous emptiness.

A round clock, perfect and distinctive as time itself, nested in the center of the monolith, the white hands standing out brightly against the all-black dial.

Unlike a normal clock, this one didn't have 12 divisions, but 72.

"72? Wait... What happens when my time is up?"

Tron opened his eyes, exalted and fearful...

A heavy sigh.

"That means that in three days, the process of the Incarnation will begin again, to turn you into a monster." 

A familiar shiver ran down Tron's back.

"Is it possible to stop it somehow?"

Before answering, Morbia took a few steps forward while a mad grin grew on her face.

"Sure, the Death Clock will only disappear when you become human, otherwise, it will haunt you forever, wanting to make you into a most powerful Ghost."

Her fingertips trembled, the flames of righteous vengeance flaring in her eyes.

"You need to kill, kill, and kill again! To become a human, you need to take the lives of others! To feel emotions, you must make others forget about them forever!"

Morbia waved her arms in different directions.

"Isn't that beautiful?!"

Tron didn't have any thoughts about murder, he had never done it, but he was curious about the emotion Morbia was feeling right now.

Click.

The death clock struck its first hour, giving the countdown for the two creatures to begin their journey. One was driven by a desire for revenge and power, and the other a lost soul in this complex and unknown world that for others was an arriving calamity.