A luminary, An Angel

"Life is truly unfair."

Murphy muttered and rolled over on the cold stone floor, his leg throbbing like a war drum.

"I die mysteriously, come back in a blind body, and before I can even figure out shit, I'm rushed to death's door once more!"

He balled his fists, his jaw tight with frustration, and internally complained.

"And right now, even when I want to scream, to curse, to spit poison at the face of the world, I can't. Because the last time I opened my mouth, I got verbally mauled by a one-armed mother protecting her daughter. Meanwhile, that bastard Derrion gets to curse freely in front of a Chimera."

He had forgotten the foul language he had spoken when the chimera attacked him, just a few minutes earlier. But with a long and low sound whispering through the cave, he uttered.

"Truly unfair."

The irony of it all made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. Instead, he tilted his head slightly toward the man beside him.

"You know"

He told him.

"We've talked for a while now. We've shared pain, blood, and existential dread. I think we can call ourselves friends at this point. But I don't even know your name."

George laughed a full, big-hearted laugh, the kind that rolls deep down in the belly and rattles the ribs.

"Good, good! Indeed, we can be called friends now."

He added, offering his hand.

"Name's George. George Williams. Nice to meet you, friend."

Murphy reached out, gripping the offered hand with a firm shake.

"Murphy Morroni is honored to be your friend."

But as they shook, the effort unbalanced Murphy, causing him to bump into George's wounded shoulder inadvertently. At the same moment, his broken leg erupted in agony.

"Ouch—ouch—ouch!" Murphy hissed.

George grunted, then winced. 

And then, despite the pain, they both burst into laughter, raw, unfiltered, and oddly healing.

"You know."

George said between laughs,

"Sometimes I truly forget you're blind. Then little things like this remind me."

Murphy grinned.

"I'll consider that a compliment."

George nodded.

"Come on. You're doing better. Now let's get you to your sister's side. I'll help."

With George's help, Murphy limped across to May, who was lying down, her breathing faint but soft. Her bark-like arms twitched faintly, still drowning under their accursed mutation.

"How long until she is fully recovered?"

Murphy asked, kneeling beside her.

George rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Based on her injuries and her talent… anywhere from one to three hours."

Murphy blinked.

"That fast?"

George nodded.

"To gain the attention of the higher-ups in the Liora Foundation, your sister is anything but ordinary."

A strange warmth bloomed in Murphy's chest—pride. It was unfamiliar, but beautiful. He touched May's cursed arms and caressed the bark-line texture.

"This… is the manifestation of her gift?" he asked.

George's face darkened slightly.

"You could say that. It's her Cursed Mark—the price she pays for surviving what should've killed her. That texture? It's the Crimson energy slowly corroding her body."

"Her gift comes from her hands, yes, but they're also the first part of her to decay. The supplements and potions she receives slow the progression. When her mark isn't active, you'd hardly know she's Cursed."

"Only those who have been cursed for a long time will have an outward manifestation of their cursed marks, even without actively drawing their powers."

He paused, eyes lingering on May's arms with a mixture of respect and regret.

Murphy sat in silence, taking it in. Despite being able to share Murphy's memories, May had obviously withheld parts of the truth from him. Supernatural lore-wise, he was still an amateur, just knew enough like the common man.

He looked in the direction where he believed Derrion was, then turned his head to the man in front of him and asked.

"If both of you were assigned to protect my sister, then why is he coming off as very hostile?"

"Why doesn't he have any respect at all, not even basic decency?"

George let out a sigh, eyes tracking Murphy's blind ones.

"He's a proud hunter. Never wanted to become a bodyguard, not for a mere pharmacist, anyway, at the time. But he couldn't say no to the higher-ups. So, he damned well took it out on Miss May. Not directly, at first. But after the recent events…"

He paused

Murphy frowned.

"You mean the Silent Night?"

George nodded grimly.

"This wave of Crimson beasts is too overwhelming. Within hours, one of the three great cities, Skyfall, with a population of one hundred million, was completely overrun. Perhaps something on the order of a few thousand Favourites have survived, the intelligence says."

Murphy's blood ran cold.

"A 100 million… gone?"

George's voice was low.

"And Avarock, with 150 million, was barely holding when we were taken prisoner. By now… who knows?"

With a gulp, Murphy's head spun. He had just died. Just been reincarnated. Now he was in a world where cities could be obliterated overnight. Could he really survive this?

George must have felt his spiraling thoughts and eased his friend's worry.

"Despite the overwhelming onslaught, Storm Cloud won't fall."

Murphy snapped back to reality.

"Why?"

George's voice swelled with pride.

"Because Storm Cloud is not only the biggest in economy and population. It also has the strongest military. More than 50 million of our 370 million citizens are Cursed. Of that total, 33 million are hunters. The others have different specialities, like your sister.

"And we have 3 million Favourites within our walls."

Murphy's eyes widened.

"Three million?"

"Most of them aren't high rank."

George conceded.

"But they are still more powerful than the average Cursed or Crimson creature. The bulk of the present wave are Newborns. Only several thousand Infant Wretches have been observed."

He stopped and went on.

"After Skyfall fell, the authorities pleaded with the Favourites to seek aid from their ancestral clans."

Murphy, who remained suspicious, asked.

"How many of them are coming to help?"

George smiled.

"No need to worry. Storm Cloud can hold until support arrives."

Murphy narrowed his eyes.

"How many are coming?"

George chuckled.

"Two."

Murphy blinked, having a terrible feeling, he asked.

"Two… what?"

"Two Favourites," George replied.

Murphy's jaw dropped.

"Two?! A hundred million monsters?!"

George clapped him on the back.

"Worry not, my friend."

"One is a Luminary. The other… is an Angel."