Castor stared at the monitor screen with a meaningless smile on his face. It twitched occasionally, threatening to turn into a grimace of disgust, pain, and rejection of the situation that had occurred. His team of four had just taken their winning game and sent it into the abyss to Chthon. The words in the chat did nothing to help his teammates become smarter or even more obedient. And his chat, where viewers laughed at his lost games, did not make the situation any better.
"I'm surrounded by incompetent, stupid, and illogical creatures.
"I'm the exception, right?" came Ddraig's voice from the metal glove on his left hand. Brinel, whose camera was showing his face to the people, shifted his gaze from the losing screen to the lizard.
"Was there any mention of exceptions?"
"You're an asshole, but you know that very well.
"I don't understand why you're insulting me, but the fact that we're stuck in Grandmaster is depressing," the mage looked at the camera and raised his finger. "And my gameplay shows that I rarely cause us to lose.
"Enough with the League for today. Tomorrow we're streaming Baldur's Gate," the archmage said after a couple of seconds, narrowing his eyes as the chat sped up again, sending a flurry of messages. "Mintara... Karla... Who are they?"
"Women.
"Thanks for explaining the obvious," Castor shook his head. "But tomorrow is tomorrow. Good luck, happiness, and joy to all of you.
Brineal turned off the broadcast and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't understand how people with such low intelligence had survived to the point of playing this game created by a god of madness from some dark universe without starlight. It was just... Castor couldn't even begin to guess why people of such high rank refused to cooperate and play to win. They had enough brain cells and connections to get this far, right? So where was it going? Or was it some kind of spell that made players lose their intelligence? Just...
"I'm starting to lose my mind in this game," Brinel rubbed his nose. "Soon I'll become...
"The most sane player in the League of Legends. Just like Tyler or Dantes."
"Yeah..." The mage smiled more cheerfully at the dragon's silly joke. "I've been missing mental disorders so much.
"Speaking of disorders...
Brinel glanced at the glove and shrugged. His inability to find a normal team in the solo queue bothered the mage much more than his teammates, who were more like fallen angels and demons than humans. And, to be honest, the mage didn't see them as a direct and dangerous threat to his existence. Their power levels were not comparable. Yes, his body would not withstand Sazex's destruction, but what had changed? In the Grim Dawn, he could have been disintegrated instantly, even his clothes would have been caught. And sneak up on him? Well, then it would be a test of both his Night Blade skills and his Mysticism. The entire house, except for his room, is enchanted to protect against unauthorised transfer from inside and outside. His room is a trap designed to catch and execute insolent uninvited guests, as well as interrogate them. Before or after death is another question.
"You're not a necromancer."
"True. But I have some knowledge of all schools of magic. The most useful to me and my work," explained Castor, recalling how he had ransacked the Inquisition's library during the Dark Dawn for knowledge of the Runes. The most valuable thing in the order, apart from the artefacts.
"Of course, I need rituals for this, not just simple movements of my hands and thoughts.
Often too complicated. Especially the occult ones. After all, he is too "far" from the abyss. Runes and necromancy come much easier to him. Although the latter is extremely... unpleasant.
"Then you should visit Asgard. Scandinavian runes are powerful and can give even a weak mage a good boost. There's a lot to learn, of course, but don't let that scare you," suggested Ddraig, and Castor frowned slightly, lost in thought. Of course, it was difficult to think about that now, with a fallen woman hanging over his head, who was taking him on dates for some reason (not bad dates, by the way. He really needed... something like that. Even if it was an illusion and a lie). Why? To lull him into a false sense of security? Too much time had passed. To kill him? Too many opportunities had already been missed? To recruit him? Too little activity in that area.
"How many threats will it take to gain access to this Asgard's library?"
"I don't think that's necessary. Although the northerners value strength and skill in battle, so you could challenge someone and defeat them."
"I can work with that.
Brindel sighed slowly and looked at the computer screen. His life, apart from a few flaws, had become normal. He plays games, reads books, watches films and TV series, streams, earns some money, goes to the shop for food, orders delivery... Castor allowed himself a warmer smile, which quickly turned into a straight line. Was this the life he had been striving for all this time? Yes. Did he want it? Yes. But did he deserve it? That question always bothered Castor, and the answer was always no. Pathetic and weak, unable to save himself or his family — the most precious thing he had in his life.
"I'll catch up with you, and we'll win together. But now you have to run. Quickly! And don't worry about your sister — she's a dangerous woman!
The mage sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears that had appeared. It was a lie to spare him at that moment. After all... She hadn't caught up with him even after three years, and he had found her himself...
... In a place cursed by all forces.
"What kind of worthless brother am I...
***
The plan must be carried out. Reynal knew the punishment for failure: Kokabiel had personally demonstrated what happened to those who failed. Even by their standards, it was not a sight for the faint of heart. But... The woman couldn't just go and kill this guy. He was too strange, too incomprehensible, and too... attractive. Yes, what was there to hide, Castor attracted her with his mystery. A veil of secrets and dark gloom that hovered around him.
"You're not yourself today," Reynal asked with a hint of concern, looking at Brinel sitting in front of her. His usual smile was still on his face, but it lacked its usual cheerfulness and calmness.
"I've once again encountered a manifestation of degradation and mental inferiority," the guy slowly stirred his coffee, looking straight at her through the dark lenses of his glasses. She could feel his penetrating gaze even through the barrier.
"You always say that when someone is being stupid," the woman smiled, taking a sip of her cocktail. Brinel may have seemed like a nice guy, but his tongue was sharper than any dagger.
"No.
"Yes.
"No.
"Need I remind you of that incident in the park?" Reynal raised an eyebrow and giggled when the guy fell silent, silently drinking his coffee. Honestly, she liked this toxicity and sharpness that you wouldn't expect from a calm and peaceful guy who loved philosophy and complex sentences.
"Checkmate," Castor raised his head and looked straight at her. The woman smiled with interest.
"I have a couple of questions for you that I've been thinking about for several days. And I'd like to discuss them privately.
"My measurements? Fetishes?" The fallen woman smirked insolently, receiving only a questioning arch of an eyebrow in response. She liked that. Brinel didn't blush or stammer, but only looked silently and replied sharply.
"Maybe I should keep him around? People like him are rare these days."
They slowly left the café where they had been sitting, chatting about silly things (in Castor's opinion). Reynal tried to get to know the guy better. What he did for a living, who his parents were, what he liked to eat, and so on. Why? Why not? It was easy for her, he enjoyed it (although Brinel always looked satisfied), and it was additional information she could use to pressure him. But he either didn't answer, evaded the question, or asked her not to ask such things because of deep scars. This came up especially often when the topic turned to family.
"Well, are you going to rape me?" Reynal smiled slyly, sitting down on a park bench. The same one where they had their first date. There were hardly any people around because of the time: the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon.
"Um... I'm sorry..." The fallen angel couldn't look at the guy for long, who was staring at her with almost palpable condemnation and a request not to touch on the subject. Even his aura had changed to a colder and more distant one. She had never felt anything like this before. It was indescribable. And frightening.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Reynal decided to change the subject so she wouldn't have to feel that skin-prickling coldness and soul-searching gaze anymore.
"What do you want from me? All this hanging around me and trying to find out as much as possible," Reynal looked at Castor in surprise as he slowly took off his glasses and looked straight at her. His slightly glowing, icy eyes stared directly into hers, riveting her to the spot. It was as if... as if the enraged Kokabiel was looking at you. Your breath catches, cold sweat breaks out on your forehead, and your hands begin to tremble. But you can't look away.
"Tell me, fallen angel.
"Did you know..." It took all her strength to keep her voice from shaking. That look did not belong to a normal person. And not because of the glow or the colour, but... Something otherworldly inside. Something that could crush you like an insect and not even notice.
"From the very beginning of our acquaintance. And since then, I've been haunted by questions: why, how, and most importantly, what is the point of all these games?" Castor continued to smile, his tone unchanged, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity and interest.
"There was an order to eliminate you," Reynal felt with her sixth sense that lying or withholding information was forbidden. Otherwise, she would quickly be turned into a bloody puddle that would be cleaned up in an instant. Cocabiel was dangerous, of course, but Brinel was sitting right in front of her, studying her with an unhealthy interest.
"And for what sins?"
"You are the bearer of the Sacred Mechanism, which makes you a threat to the fallen angels and Kokabiel in particular.
Castor was surprised. For the first time, she saw his eyes widen, his face stretch out, and his gaze fill with complete incomprehension. It was as if Reina had said something completely out of the ordinary, throwing the young man into astonishment.
"Your answer only raised more questions.
"I don't know how you were found. There was only an order.
"How interesting..." Brinel leaned back on the bench, taking his eyes off her. The fallen angel breathed a sigh of relief, but froze. She slowly turned her head to look at what she never expected to see...
...Castor was laughing. And his loud laughter, tinged with madness, did not make the situation any better.
***
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