System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]

Chapter 162: Monsters aren’t only under your bed

Blake spent the rest of the day examining the remaining samples.

Every single one behaved differently.

Some reacted violently to heat, others barely reacted to anything at all. Certain strands twisted into intricate spirals under the microscope, while others stayed unnervingly rigid, as if resisting observation itself.

He couldn’t keep referring to them as Sample A or Unknown Four.

They needed names.

The pattern he believed belonged to the Traflen received the simplest one, which was Trafly.

The one whose structure closely resembled the Muliertensias samples became Muli.

The rest...

He had no idea what they were.

One sample constantly branched into thinner filaments before knitting itself back together, like the limbs of a growing tree.

So he called it branch.

Another refused to settle into a stable shape, shifting every few seconds into a completely different arrangement.

So he called it fluxy.

One formed dense, layered rings that reminded him of growth rings inside old trees.

Core it was.

The final sample remained almost perfectly inactive until another specimen was brought nearby. Only then would it suddenly become active, as though responding to its surroundings.

Echo.

The names were temporary, just enough to organize his notes until he learned where they truly belonged.

There was still one comparison he desperately wanted to make.

Myles, but for that, he needed his blood.

’As if, getting even a single strand of Myles’ hair had already borders on impossible. Blood isn’t something I can casually obtain...’

Still, one way or another, he would have to compare it eventually.

He leaned back in his chair until several joints cracked.

His neck ached.

His shoulders felt stiff.

His eyes burned from hours spent staring through microscope lenses.

His stomach answered with a loud growl.

"...Guess that’s enough."

He wandered into the kitchen, threw together a simple pot of soup, and quietly ate while watching the steam disappear into the ceiling.

It wasn’t particularly filling.

It didn’t matter.

When the bowl was empty, he rinsed it, turned off the lights, and made his way to bed.

The mattress sank beneath him.

Within minutes, he fell asleep.

***

Someone stood ahead.

It was Blake.

It wasn’t a reflection of his new self, but instead it was the real thing.

’What is he saying? Ugh, I can’t tell...’

His lips moved, so he was definetly speaking, but he struggled to even try and read his lips.

’...Ah, what to do? I have to get closer.’

He did just that, but then, suddenly, a dull pressure settled behind his eyes.

The figure kept talking as he tried getting closer, however, the pressure that was trying to pull him away sharpened into pain.

His skull felt as though it were slowly being squeezed shut.

Still, he couldn’t hear anything, and forced himself to continue forward.

A faint murmur finally reached him.

It was broken and distant, like someone speaking through several walls.

"Do... you... have to do this...?"

The words barely reached him.

The Blake standing ahead wasn’t looking at him.

His eyes remained fixed on something far beyond.

’Ah, it hurts to look at this face... is that how I look when I’m sad?’

There was exhaustion, regret, a grief so deep it barely resembled emotion anymore.

Suddenly, something immediately threw him to the side, and again, he was a little far from Blake.

But fortunately, he seemed to have no issue hearing now.

A hand seized Blake’s arm quite hard, fingers digging painfully into his sleeve.

’What the? Who is that? I can’t see...’

A voice spoke beside his ear.

"I told you to just go."

Silence.

"You are stubborn, I’ll give you that."

Blake looked back at that shadow in front of him, his vision blurring, knees weakening.

"...Why are you so determined...?"

His voice cracked as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Let’s just—"

The hand of that shadow suddenly covered his mouth and slowly leaned closer to his face, until it disappeared.

At that very moment, everything broke apart.

’Ack!’

It was like a strong wave pushing him around, until he finally found a sense of balance.

The thing was, he was not in a much different place.

Just like before, Blake was standing there, looking now much more calm.

Rattle.

That until something came closer to him.

’Ah... is that the same shadow as before?’

However, the vibe was much more different, so much so that it made him assume that wasn’t the case. As Blake turned around, he looked so incredibly scared he started running.

Simultaneously, he felt his heartbeat pounding against his ribs.

His lungs burned.

’What the? I’m not the one running, why am I feeling so tired for no reason? Ah, whatever. Who is he running from?’

What bothered him the most was that he just couldn’t tell why, why did that expression hat face twisted by despair feel so familiar?

Bang!

Suddenly, Blake’s body hit the ground.

No, it was already there.

’Ah...’

He looked down.

There was blood absolutely everywhere.

It spread beneath him in a dark pool, soaking into the earth, creeping farther and farther.

He could feel that familiar texture. It was so warm, sticky... and absolutely endless.

’NO!’

He couldn’t even blink while looking at Blake’s motionless body. Then, he heard footsteps nearby.

They were slow and steady. It was the shadow who spoke before, approaching the motionless body.

"Ack!"

Blake woke up but, for some reason, he couldn’t open his eyes properly.

His lungs also burned, while his heart was hammering wildly.

For some reason, he could feel everything that was going on inside his body.

Every heartbeat.

Every pulse.

Every stream of blood coursing beneath his skin.

Through his neck.

His arms.

His fingertips.

His legs.

It was as though every vein inside him had suddenly become visible from the inside.

The sensation made his stomach lurch.

He wanted it to stop, so he forced his his eyes open.

Something stood beside the bed.

More specifically, it wasn’t only one thing, but many.

Tall silhouettes crowded every corner of the room.

Some bent low enough for their heads to brush the ceiling.

Others crouched against the walls, their limbs folded at impossible angles.

One hung above him, its outline pressed against the ceiling like a spider waiting to drop.

None of them moved or even blinked, they were simply staring at him.

Blake tried to move, to at least sit up. However, nothing happened.

He tried to raise a hand, but it stayed exactly where it was.

His chest barely rose with each breath, as though something heavy had settled across it.

His throat tightened.

He tried to scream, but only silence answered.

Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, warm against his temples.

The figures never looked away, instead, they even started smiling at him.

Time lost meaning, and every second stretched until it felt unbearable.

Then...

Ring!

Ring!!

Ring!!!

His alarm erupted across the room, and the weight suddenly disappeared.

Air flooded into his lungs.

His fingers jerked.

His arms obeyed again.

More importantly, the room finally stood empty.

He remained frozen for another few breaths before slowly sitting up.

His cheeks were wet.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"..."

Without saying anything, he dragged himself into the kitchen.

He made a sandwich with ham and cheese, even if he wasn’t really into salty stuff in the morning.

Slowly, he bit into it, chewing and swallowing as if he was about to chocke.

As he got up, he already couldn’t remember what it tasted like.

His eyes rested somewhere beyond the wall in front of him.

Not focused.

Not unfocused.

Just, there.

The room felt strangely flat.

His own hands seemed to belong to whoever happened to be making the sandwich.

He watched them move with quiet curiosity, as if observing someone else’s routine from a few steps behind.

Only when the sandwich disappeared did he realize he’d finished eating.

He got dressed, then slipped his backpack over one shoulder.

The straps pressed against his healing back, making him grimace.

Inside rested his incentive spirometer.

He’d use it later, just like the doctor said.

Locking the apartment behind him, Blake stepped outside.

Morning drifted around him.

Cars passed.

People chatted.

Somewhere nearby, a bicycle bell rang.

Everything sounded distant and muted, like hearing the world through thick glass.

He kept his head lowered the entire walk, eyes fixed on the cracks running through the pavement.

One step, then another, then another...

He was merely walking straight, without moving, so, many brushed past him.

That was until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

It was cold, so much so that it made Blake flinch, his head lifting almost automatically.

The sounds around him sharpened.

The colors returned.

The weight pressing against his thoughts dissolved like mist.

His breathing hitched.

Standing before him was Myles.

A smile appeared on Blake’s face before he even realized he was smiling.

He stepped forward without a word and rested his forehead against Myles’ chest, closing his eyes for just a moment, as though finally convincing himself that something in front of him was real.