Re: Timeless Apocalypse-Chapter 91: Blood-Heaven Massacre

"Have you heard of the Blood-Heaven Massacre?"

Amon’s brow arched. "The what? No, why? How is that relevant to—"

"My father was a General of renown in the army. After years of service, he retired and got a seat at the council of the federation." She began, interrupting him, her voice laced with sharp intent, her previous shrewdness gone.

Amon wanted to interrupt, but for some reason, he felt his interest and curiosity piqued.

"More specifically, he was put in charge of all matters related to convicts and rehabilitation processes."

She then paused. Slowly, she turned toward Uriel, who was silent and stoic, looking at her with an expression as neutral as it had previously been.

Yet as she met his cold ivory gaze, a shiver couldn’t help but run down her spine. Not of fear, but of pure excitement.

A mad smile threatened to creep back onto her face, but she suppressed it.

"The Headless Saint Church is a faction he was repeatedly forced to deal with and take into consideration when in congress and at the council."

"In fact, in general, the church was seen as the highest threat to the world. And that has been the case for the past century."

Amon nodded slowly.

He’d heard of the church before.

A strange group of lunatics that went around the world committing terrorist attacks, known to carry out the most heinous massacres in all recorded history.

Yet simultaneously, they were one of the world’s biggest benefactors. It could be said that thanks to the church, there practically wasn’t any real difference between the lower and middle class.

They provided food and education, built housing and shelters, clothes and jobs and security, among a dozen other things that shaped all facets of an enclosed society.

They were even stranger for the simple fact that not only did no one know where they truly resided, but also because it was simply impossible to join the church.

You either were born in the church, or you weren’t.

"Evidently, they are a threat, how could they not be? A faction of human traffickers that trains children from birth as weapons to be sold off to the wealthy; can it truly get any worse than that?"

Amon’s eyes widened.

Lady Emmet’s gaze had never left Uriel the entire time she spoke, and neither did he react. He almost seemed not to hear her words, nor what she so subtly implied with them.

"The Blood-Heaven Massacre was committed by one of these children, sent out on a suicide mission. From what reports say, the child was alone."

"He had a blade, and a box. The child somehow got to a city known as Kaelim, in the north, unnoticed by any, even without documentation."

"With his blade, in his wake, he left dead bodies. So many of them. Fathers, mothers, children, elders; he killed, and he killed some more until he reached Kaelim’s city centre."

Lady Emmet’s face flushed, becoming red, her breaths almost feral as she stared at Uriel, almost unable to hold herself back, almost slobbering as she looked at him.

Amon didn’t understand why she was acting the way she did, but he didn’t seem to care. All his eyes did as she spoke was widen more and more.

He clung to her every word, heart palpitating.

"The child got to the tallest building in the city. Of course, in his wake, all were left dead. And then, he lit the place on fire."

"He lit the building on fire and opened the box he had with him—a biological weapon. It wiped the entire city clean."

"Somehow, a simple fire consumed an entire population, but of course, that was after all of them died from the horrifying virus the weapon inflicted."

"It was said they all died in less than a minute, all in excruciating pain."

Shaking, Lady Emmet finally tore her gaze free from Uriel and turned to Amon. Summoning a handkerchief from her abode mark, she wiped the slobber from her mouth.

Slowly, she regained her calm.

"The child was found hung at the tallest peak of the city, nearly dead, burnt and broken."

"The child had white hair. The child had eyes as gold as the sun. And the child had the face of an angel, they said."

"He also apparently had the name of one."

Amon looked at Lady Emmet, then at Uriel, and back to her. He didn’t really know what to think.

Was he dreaming?

Why was she telling him this? What were the odds that of all people in the settlement, Uriel would have the misfortune of ending up with the one person who knew of his past? Or was it a truth all knew except him?

Was it even true?

And if it was... why was she telling him?

Amon’s mind nearly burst from the sheer amount of confusion he was under.

"I’m sure there’s an arrest warrant for him in other settlements. And I’m sure many people would like to see him burned for his crimes."

"He’s not a hero; he’s a groomed bastard with a soul as rotten as hell is. To die for us, painfully, would’ve been the greatest honor he’d receive."

"I tried to kill him to fulfil my obligations as a loyal and honest citizen of Ithurial."

She pointed at Uriel. "Is this the kind of man you’d like to ally with? This kind of scum?"

...

Amon didn’t answer Lady Emmet’s words.

The room fell silent.

Minutes trickled into hours.

Uriel had eventually closed his eyes, his heartbeat slow and steady, back straight and expression just as soft and calm as it always was.

At no point did he speak to either of them, nor did he try to justify himself, explain things, or anything of the like.

It was as usual, detached.

As if he wasn’t in the room, as if he hadn’t heard Lady Emmet.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes.

[Quota has been reached!]

The room they were in shook and the aether within became chaotic, its flows clashing and banging so violently they were all immediately forced to shield themselves with their individual protective means.

BANG!

Then, the room shattered.