The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 57: Hazel eyes

Within the confines of a small room, a boy’s fingers twitched.

His crimson hair clung against his forehead in light sweat, and his breathing was even.

His eyelids fluttered, then squeezed shut as dim light assaulted his senses. Despite the faint glow, it felt overwhelming, like needles pricking at his retinas.

A dull ache throbbed through his body, though his brain had yet to fully register the pain.

Too many sensations bombarded him at once, and his mind struggled to process them all, slowing the transmission to prevent an overload.

Everything felt sluggish. Even his thoughts lagged behind... if he could even have any at this moment. It was like a broken clock trying to catch up to time.

With great effort, he lifted his arms, unaware of how much strength it took. His fingers fumbled, instinctively pushing away the white blanket draped over him.

He pressed his hands against the side of his head, trying to soothe the dull, persistent ache that was only now making itself known.

A groan formed in his throat but came out muffled, and suppressed. He felt something was obstructing his face.

He clawed at it in agitation. His fingers curled around a tube, yanking it with annoyance as the gas mask tore free, hissing as it detached.

Air rushed into his lungs and he gasped, heaving for breath.

After a few moments, his breathing stabilized, but he remained lying on the bed, trying to organize his thoughts.

His mind slowly caught up with the load of information; his vision adjusted to the dim light, and he could process everything clearly.

However, his thinking was still sluggish and frustratingly slow, as if his brain was wading through thick molasses.

With a deep breath, he sat up. Pain flared through his body that made him grit his teeth, concentrated in his knees, legs, and hips.

He took a moment to adjust before swinging his legs off the bed. The instant his feet touched the ground, he stumbled—his legs tangled in the white blanket.

He lurched forward, crashing against the bedside table with a loud bang.

Pain exploded in his chest and arms, with which he had instinctively used to brace his fall.

He gritted his teeth, gripping the table to keep himself from collapsing completely.

For a few seconds, he just stood there, muscles tense, breathing heavy. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he untangled himself from the blanket and pushed upright.

His gaze flickered around the room; metallic walls, smooth surfaces, dim artificial lights. There was nothing particularly notable, nothing that gave him a clue about where he was.

His head was throbbing, and his body felt unbearably heavy.

Still, he forced himself to move, dragging his legs toward the only door.

Each step sent sharp, tingling pain through his feet, like thousands of tiny needles stabbing into his skin.

He felt like he could hear his knees groaning in pain, and he had to press a heavy hand against the wall for support, alternating between them just to keep from falling.

As he neared the door, it slid open with a soft hiss before he could even reach for it.

He stepped out.

The corridor outside was just as metallic, just as dimly lit. The walls occasionally trembled, sending a faint vibration through his unsteady legs.

_’Are we moving?’_

He glanced around. The space was eerily empty, save for two other doors small doors like his’; both sealed shut.

_’Compartment... Am I in a ship?’_

The thought made him frown in confusion. Was he not supposed to be in the Crimson estate?

He pushed himself forward, barely managing to keep upright. He struggled with each step, forcing him to use the walls for support.

At the end of the corridor, he reached a set of double doors. They slid open as he approached, revealing an even larger, emptier space.

_’The interior of this ship is strange.’_

There was only one other door ahead.

He moved toward it, but this time, it didn’t open.

Frowning, he let out a frustrated sigh. Where was he? How was he supposed to figure anything out when nothing made sense?

Tired, he leaned against the door for support, and it unexpectedly gave way... With a force no one was expecting.

He tumbled forward and fell face first, his skull slamming against the hard floor.

A sharp, ringing pain burst through his head. His vision blurred. He barely managed to squint through the brighter lightening, his thoughts scattering like shattered glass.

Smacking his head against the ground seemed to trigger a traumatic reaction and response to the incident some days ago. His consciousness wavered, darkness creeping at the edges of his mind.

Through the disorienting blur, he saw the movement of a silhouette, by the control pit.

The figure turned.

Before unconsciousness claimed him, his hazy gaze locked onto a pair of steely, beautiful hazel-green eyes.

----

When he woke up again, everything was dark.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he had his eyes open or closed.

The silence was in blend with the monotonous noise of night creepers that it felt unnatural.

It was even possible to think there was no sound at all, and that the silence was absolute.

He didn’t know if this was a dream or reality, and just laid there, thinking until the void swallowed him.

Ten minutes passed; maybe more, maybe less.

Time seem to loose all meaning when one was too idle to keep a track on it.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled him under once again.

---

The next time he woke, things were different.

The darkness was gone, replaced by the soft glow of artificial lights. The air smelled cleaner, warmer, and the faint creak of wood beneath footsteps told him they were no longer in the metallic confines of a ship.

A house.

Kallen’s gaze flickered around weakly, his body still sluggish. Across the room, the man with hazel-green eyes was occupied with some sort of apparatus, his back turned to Kallen’s lying figure.

Even so, the moment Kallen stirred, the man noticed. He turned, his sharp eyes locking onto Kallen’s. Then he smiled, walking over before settling on the edge of the bed.

Kallen tried to speak only to realize the gas mask was once again strapped to his face.

He became frustrated, reaching up to yank it off.

But before his fingers could grip the tubing, his strength suddenly drained away, his hands falling limp against his chest.

His eyelids grew unbearably heavy.

Confusion clouded his thoughts. His gaze drifted to the man beside him, who’s hazel eyes were still fixed on Kallen, unreadable.

In his hand, a syringe glinted under the light.

He didn’t get the chance to even formulate a thought again, before darkness claimed him once more.

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