Castle

"You should rest," Solas said. "Even just for a minute. You've been walking a lot, and I know the explosions are still on your mind."

"I'll be fine," Max replied, shaking his head. "Besides, you were the one who told me to move quick. Didn't exactly leave me much time to dwell on it."

His voice was steady, but his mind wasn't. The image of the bodies—the sheer suddenness of it all—clung to him like a stain that wouldn't wash away. He exhaled sharply. "Their heads though… Jeez. There was so much red on the sand. Everything they ever loved, hated, felt—just gone in an instant. Don't think I can ever forget that."

Solas was quiet for a moment, his presence flickering, as if weighing Max's words. Then, he spoke, voice calm but certain.

"You won't."

A pause. Not comforting, not dismissive—just the truth.

"That kind of thing sticks with you. The mind doesn't just erase it, no matter how much you want it to."

Max swallowed. He knew that already.

Solas continued, his tone shifting, quieter now—almost reflective. "But you'll get used to it."

Max let out a dry breath, more of a scoff than a laugh. "Yeah. Probably have to." His fingers curled slightly. "That's kinda scary though. Getting used to people dying."

Solas didn't hesitate. "It is."

Another pause, and then, softer, something more thoughtful. "The first time, it hits you like a hammer. The second, it lingers. After that… it fades. Not because you want it to, but because it has to."

There was something in his voice—something distant, like he was sifting through his own memories.

"Survival makes sure of that."

A moment of silence stretched between them before Solas spoke again, quieter now, less of a warning.

"Just be careful what you let yourself get used to."

"I don't think I'll have a choice in the future," Max said.

Solas's response was calm, steady. "Maybe not."

A pause. The weight of inevitability settled between them.

"But there's a difference between having no choice… and convincing yourself you don't."

His presence flickered—thoughtful.

Max exhaled sharply. "Easy for you to say. You don't know what's going to happen."

Solas didn't miss a beat. His voice remained steady, unaffected.

"Neither do you."

Silence stretched for a moment, just long enough for the thought to sink in. Then, a slight shift in his tone—something almost wry.

"That's the thing about the future. No one knows how it plays out—until it does."

Another beat of silence. Then, quieter, more measured:

"But I do know one thing. The moment you believe you have no control… is the moment you actually lose it."

Max clenched his jaw. He couldn't explain how he knew what was coming.

And he knew Solas wouldn't understand.

"Let's stop dwelling on it," Max said.

Solas didn't argue. His response was simple, steady.

"Alright."

A brief pause, then an observation—neutral, detached.

"Dwelling won't change anything, anyway."

And just like that, he let it go.

As Max cut down another low-level creature, its body crumbling into dust, Solas's voice broke the silence.

"Monotonous, isn't it?"

A pause—just long enough for the words to settle.

"You move forward, kill, collect… what? Experience? Resources? It all starts blending together after a while."

Another monster lunged. Max struck it down without a second thought. Solas continued, unfazed.

"So tell me, Max. What exactly are you working toward?"

"Money," Max said. "Then putting it in stocks."

Solas let out a low, amused hum.

"Practical. Cold. You've got the long game in mind."

A pause. Then, with the same even tone:

"But stocks? In this economy?"

A flicker of dry humor, but beneath it, something else—calculated interest.

"So you're not just thinking about surviving. You're thinking about stability. Future-proofing."

Another beat of silence as Max cut down another monster.

"And what happens if the market crashes? If the world changes faster than your investments can keep up?"

"I have a good feeling mine won't," Max said.

Solas gave a quiet, thoughtful hum.

"Confidence. Or intuition?"

A pause, as if weighing the distinction. Then, with measured curiosity:

"Alright. Say you're right. Say your investments hold. What then? What's the endgame?"

Another monster fell, its corpse vanishing into dust.

"You stacking money just to have it? Or is there something you actually want?"

"Always nice to have money, but yeah, there are some things I wish to buy," Max said, the weight of the words hanging in the air. "Like artifacts."

Solas didn't respond immediately, his silence stretching just long enough for Max to wonder if he had overstepped. But then, Solas's voice came through, steady and calculating as ever.

"Artifacts." A brief pause. "Now that's an investment with immediate returns."

Another beat of silence, then:

"Power, utility, leverage... depends on what you're looking for. So, what kind?"

Max could feel the subtle pressure in his words. It wasn't casual curiosity—it was a probe, a subtle challenge. Solas was testing something.

Max didn't hesitate. "Power."

The response was simple, to the point. Solas's tone didn't shift, but there was a flicker of something behind the words.

"Of course," he said. A thoughtful pause followed, then: "Power's a solid investment. Reliable. It doesn't crash like the market, doesn't vanish like gold."

"What's that in the distance?" Max asked.

Solas's voice shifted, no longer casual, but sharp with focus.

"A red castle... in the distance?" He trailed off, as if considering the sight before them. "That's... unusual."

Max and Solas continued their journey toward the castle, the landscape growing darker as they approached. The stone walls loomed ahead, jagged and worn with age, but still standing resolute. Max's fingers brushed lightly against the cool surface of the stone wall as they walked, feeling the texture beneath his hand, searching for any sign of an entrance.

His eyes scanned the area, focused but calm, until his hand slid across a weathered crack in the wall. A faint creak echoed in the still air as a heavy gate slowly shifted open. The faintest movement—almost imperceptible—was all it took for Max to notice.

He stepped forward, slipping through the gate with little more than a glance at Solas, who followed without a word. Max's steps were silent, steady, as he crossed the threshold into the castle itself.

The interior of the castle was dim, the walls lined with faded tapestries and shattered stone. Ancient columns stretched upward, reaching for the ceiling, which was nearly obscured by thick layers of dust and cobwebs. The air felt thick with history, like the stone itself was burdened by the weight of forgotten memories.

"Ah… another wanderer. You are far from home, aren't you? Alone, lost, or perhaps… hiding from something? Tell me, stranger, what drives you to step into my domain, uninvited and unknown?" The demon's voice held a cruel edge, trying to mask the amusement with an air of mockery, as if it found some twisted joy in the intrusion.

Max's gaze shifted downward, and there it was—sitting on a throne at the far end of the room, a demon. Unlike the monstrous beasts Max had encountered before, this demon resembled a human, though its features were slightly distorted, as if something ancient and cruel twisted beneath its skin.

The demon's skin was pale, almost ghostly white, but with an unnatural sheen that caught the faint light. Its eyes were the most striking feature—completely black, with no iris or pupil, just an endless void staring back. It was the kind of gaze that could pierce right through you, leaving an unsettling feeling in its wake.

The demon's long black hair cascaded down its back in waves, and its face was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. A cruel, knowing smile played on its lips, revealing pointed teeth that weren't quite human.

It wore dark, elegant robes—impeccably crafted, but far from ordinary. The fabric seemed to shimmer slightly, almost alive, as if woven from the very shadows that filled the room. It was a figure that radiated power, poised and confident in its unearthly presence.

Max felt a strange tension in the air, a weight that pressed on his chest as the demon's gaze locked onto him, its eyes unblinking, unreadable.

Solas's voice was low, almost a whisper, though there was a sharpness to it. "Didn't expect this."

Max's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his own thoughts pressing against his ribs. 'I'm not powerful enough to fight a demon. I probably can't even touch a demon,' he thought, his mind spiraling for a moment. Panic threatened to creep in, the crushing reality that this might be the end. 

'I might die here… Oh god, I can't die here.'

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his chest tightened with each inhale. His thoughts were sharp, frantic, like a blade bouncing between panic and denial.

The demon's gaze never wavered, its smile still stretched across its face, studying Max with amusement.

Max's hands clenched into fists at his sides. I have to move. I can't freeze now.

Every instinct screamed for him to act, to do something. Anything. But there was nothing—he was out of his depth.