Chapter 8: Remorse
Isaac and Elias emerged from the portal into a chaos of light and cold air. The stark contrast between the suffocating atmosphere of the dungeon and the outside took their breath away. Isaac staggered, his legs wobbling, his body numb with exhaustion and pain. Elias, exhausted, collapsed to his knees, panting loudly.
Ahead of them, a single figure awaited them.
A lone man in a long black cloak stood a few yards from the dying gate. He watched them in silence, his hands deep in his pockets. His face was partly hidden by the half-light.
Isaac immediately recognized the emblem sewn on his shoulder: the symbol of the Hunter's Bureau.
The portal behind them shook one last time, then collapsed on itself in a flash of violet. A thud echoed through the air, and silence fell immediately, heavy, irrevocable.
They were outside. Alone.
- There were six of you, where are the others?
The man's interrogative voice crackled in the icy air.
Isaac felt his stomach twist. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Elias, still kneeling, clenched his fists.
- The others couldn't get out.
The man didn't react immediately. He detailed them for a moment, no doubt gauging their pitiful state. Then, slowly, he sighed and pulled a telephone from his pocket.
- Identify yourself.
Isaac hesitated before answering, still stunned.
- Isaac Mordred. Rank F. Porter.
- Elias Moreau. Rank F. Porter
The man jotted down this information on his phone, then put it away and stared at them again.
- My name is Anton Masson. I'm with the Hunter's Bureau. I was just circling the nearby portals to check for anything unusual, when I noticed that this one was becoming unstable due to a nearby closure, so I decided to wait for your exit. It seems I did the right thing.
His gaze shifted for a moment to where the portal had been a few moments earlier.
- You're going to follow me.
The journey to the Bureau des Chasseurs headquarters in Paris was a silent nightmare.
They were led to an official vehicle, a black sedan with tinted windows, and Anton Masson took the wheel without a word.
In the back, Isaac and Elias remained silent, crushed by the weight of what they had just experienced.
The atmosphere inside the car was oppressive.
Isaac stared at the cityscape from behind the window, but his mind remained in the dungeon. In that final stretch where he'd abandoned the others.
He could still hear the Hobgoblin's rumbling. The weight of the unconscious bodies they'd dropped.
He closed his eyes.
"Did we make the right choice? Did we really have another option?"
Elias's breathing was irregular. He kept his head down, his forehead pressed against his trembling hand.
No one was talking.
The Bureau des Chasseurs HQ was an austere building, a monster of glass and metal in the heart of Paris. Massive, intimidating, it stood like an unshakeable bastion of order and control.
As soon as they arrived, Isaac and Elias were escorted inside, passing several high-ranking hunters, some in uniform, others in civilian clothes, all displaying a poise that contrasted with their pitiful state.
They were led through a series of corridors lit by dim artificial light, to a minimalist interrogation room.
One desk. Three chairs. A camera fixed to a corner of the ceiling.
- Be seated. Masson ordered.
They obeyed without protest.
The man sat down opposite them and placed a voice recorder on the table. He activated it with a touch.
- Interrogation of February 18. Present: Anton Masson, agent for the Bureau des Chasseurs, as well as Isaac Mordred, awakened, rank F, and Elias Moreau, awakened, rank f.
He crossed his fingers and gazed at them.
- Tell me all about it.
Isaac felt his throat tighten.
Elias took a deep breath before beginning.
- The dungeon was supposed to be rated "weak". But as soon as he entered, something was wrong.
His voice was hoarse, tired, but steady.
He told all.
The abnormal number of goblins. The appearance of the Hobgoblin, far too powerful for a dungeon of this level. The desperate battle. The dungeon's collapse.
Then, finally, the decision they'd had to make.
Isaac felt his heart pounding in his chest as they reached the inevitable conclusion of their tale.
- We were lucky that Grant and Daryl had wounded the boss enough before they died, otherwise we'd never have been able to finish him off with our feeble strength. said Elias in a weaker voice.
Isaac nodded at Elias's words: if Anton didn't buy their lie, it would be the end of their careers and off to prison they'd go.
Masson listened uninterrupted, impassive.
Then, slowly, he leaned forward.
- I find it hard to believe what you're saying.
Silence fell like a blade.
- A dungeon boss, slaughtering a team of 5 awakened ones who've already completed quite a few dungeons, and as soon as you two join them, he suddenly dies.
Isaac flinched.
Masson didn't raise his voice. His gaze remained neutral. But his words weighed like stones.
Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Anton could bury them with his guess, but he had nothing.
The portal was gone.
Their group was dead.
Only he and Elias had returned.
Masson watched them a moment longer, then sighed and turned off the recorder.
- An investigation will be launched. But without tangible proof... it risks being classified.
He stood up and put his things away.
- That's all for today. Please go home.
Isaac didn't move immediately, but he soon recovered and he and Elias went outside.
Isaac and Elias left the Hunter Bureau HQ without a word.
The night air was frigid, charged with an oppressive heaviness that contrasted with the din inside them. They walked in silence along the deserted sidewalk, their footsteps echoing faintly on the asphalt.
Finally, Elias stopped and turned to Isaac.
- We're not telling anyone about this.
His voice was firm, but Isaac detected a note of fatigue, of doubt.
He nodded slowly.
- Yeah.
Silence stretched between them, disturbed only by the distant rumble of a car passing at the end of the street.
Elias ran a hand through his hair, looking lost.
- We did what we could," he murmured, as if to convince himself.
Isaac wasn't sure he believed it.
- Yeah," he repeated simply.
Nothing more was exchanged.
A black car with tinted windows pulled up beside them, the same one that had brought them here. A driver got out and opened the doors.
- We'll give you a lift.
They got in without a word.
The journey was silent.
When the car stopped in front of Isaac's dilapidated apartment building, he took one last look at Elias, whose gaze was lost in emptiness.
- See you later," said Isaac, opening the door.
Elias turned his head towards him.
- Yeah... See ya.
Isaac got out, and the car drove off into the night.
The dilapidated building stood before him, massive, eaten away by time and abandonment.
Isaac pushed open the creaking door and shuffled up the stairs.
He arrived in front of his apartment and inserted the key into the lock.
As soon as he opened the door, the smell of warm soup and stale bread greeted him.
- You're home at last...
The voice of Léna, his elder sister, echoed through the room.
She was sitting at the table, a bowl of soup in front of her, and raised her head to stare at him. Her long brown hair framed her tired face, and her hazel eyes immediately detailed his condition.
Isaac closed the door behind him and leaned against it, the weight of the day crushing his shoulders.
- Yeah.
Léna raised an eyebrow, then sighed as she stood up.
- You look like shit.
- Thanks, Léna.
She disappeared into the tiny kitchen and returned with a steaming bowl, which she placed on the table.
- Here, eat.
Isaac hesitated for a second, then walked over and sat down opposite her.
The soup was bland, the bread hard. But it was warm. It was... comforting.
Léna watched him eat for a moment, then crossed her arms.
- Do you want to tell me about it?
Isaac slowly swallowed a mouthful.
Then he put down his spoon and looked into her eyes.
- No, I don't.
Léna didn't seem surprised.
She simply sighed and stood up, putting her own plate away.
- Take care, little brother," she murmured as she passed behind him.
He didn't reply.
After finishing his meager meal, Isaac got up, dragged his feet to his room and collapsed on his bed.
In total darkness, he stared at the cracked ceiling.
His eyelids were heavy. His body was in tatters.
But his mind was still trapped in this dungeon.
In the screams. In the choices he'd made.
In the choices he'd left behind.
His breath became slower.
And finally, he drifted off to sleep.
And that's when the nightmare began.