Remaining there, standing over the disfigured corpse while the crackling of the fire echoed in the background, screams and clamor resounded from outside the room. A dizzying flood of memories inundated his mind, like a deluge invading a city. Three hundred years of memories being rapidly absorbed by a traumatized and overloaded brain.
When he came to, he slowly raised his weary body. Trying not to look toward the fireplace, he left the room through the front door, his head low, his hair wet with blood and sweat. His arms swung limply as he walked clumsily, seeking to find the source of such clamor. Reaching the balustrade, his eyes took a brief moment to focus due to the difference in light between the spaces. His eyes widened, his mouth went dry, and he wished he had no eyes to see what lay before him.
The poor employees were being thrown to the ground, cut, slashed, and tortured before being cruelly murdered. There were already dozens of bodies, the beautiful wooden floor soaked in blood, the unbearable stench of metal, feces, and urine. That man's puppets were doing exactly what had been promised, and for a moment he laughed—laughed at the irony of all this shit. How could he have thought it would be any different? How?
— "Are you finished?" the butler's voice sounded from beside him.
Gantz turned his exhausted face, his eyes empty as tunnels.
— "Yes," he replied curtly. He longed to leap at this thing's throat and rip it apart! To kill every single one of those creatures! But he knew—he knew he was not capable. All the sacrifice, all the pain he had caused would be in vain; he would die here. A meaningless death.
— "Save that for later. Who knows, perhaps our paths will intertwine again," the butler pondered for a moment. — "Here." The butler handed him a purple vial, curving his hand and then holding the small object with two fingers. His smile was wide and abnormal, almost to the point of looking bizarre. — "They will die shortly after taking it. There is no antidote left, so be careful. This is the last one, and the material used to make it is extremely rare."
Gantz held the item, staring at it for a minute.
— "You can leave through the side. And if you're going to ask why you were left alive? Let's just say my master is very fond of works of art."
He didn't answer. He turned his tired body and descended the stairs, ignoring the cries around him and stepping through the scattered pieces and blood.
— "I don't need this," he muttered, tossing the vial to the side and then calling upon the ring, which devoured the object.
Stepping out the door, the starry sky and the cold wind brought a modicum of relief. Behind him, a fire was beginning to catch, and in a way, it seemed poetic—what began with fire, ended with fire.
He walked through the grass, appreciating its texture; however, he withheld any memory that came up regarding his family. He did not feel right thinking about them, not now.
He descended slowly through the tunnels. He walked, walked, and walked until he found a dark corner, a small space between two pillars where he managed to squeeze himself in. He pulled his legs to his chest and fell asleep—a dreamless sleep, devoid of Olete, devoid of his family. Just emptiness.
...
His eyes opened due to the noise and movement all around the place. Rising in a leap, he looked around and spotted a massive number of patrols passing by. Retreating into the hollow he occupied, he pulled a new set of clothes from the ring. While changing, he noticed his body still ached. His hands were swollen, stiff, and purple. His head throbbed from the gunshot, and blood trickled from the wound. His chest burned in several places where the bullets had hit.
Why am I not regenerating? Damn it, now this! he thought, clicking his tongue.
He slipped through the security, waiting for precise moments to scrape past the pairs of patrols, sometimes having to hang from the curved ceilings, taking advantage of the darkness. It took him twice as long to find an exit, and he had to wait even longer to find a gap amidst the absurd amount of men around.
Stepping out onto the street, he was met with a deserted, apocalyptic environment. There was no one anywhere. The sky was gray with heavy clouds, screaming tempest in their large, fluffy bodies. The air was cold and heavy with tension. He leaped onto the roofs, avoiding a group of military wagons that passed by patrolling.
Hopping from rooftop to rooftop, he observed the surroundings lined with soldiers looking like ants scurrying in every direction. Bright droplets began to fall. The smell of earth rose, bringing a certain nostalgia while the cold of the drops calmed his mind. Deciding on his route, Gantz climbed down via the brothel's veranda and spotted the young woman he had rescued some time ago.
She startled at him standing on the veranda. For a moment, her red lips opened to let out a scream, but then she recognized his face. She stood open-mouthed for a moment before sliding open the glass door.
— "I apologize for intruding like this, but I find myself in a complicated situation and cannot return home. May I stay with you for now?"
She took a few seconds to process the request before nodding, her face slightly flushed as she made space for him to enter the room.
He sat in a chair beside a rounded wooden table, his eyes scanning the entire environment as he realized he hadn't paid much attention to the place before—the beautifully adorned wooden walls, the soft-looking bed with white blankets, a white desk, and to the side, a rack with various types of clothes and a door that led to what must be the bathroom. His eyes returned to the young woman. Blonde hair flowed from her head, falling to her shoulders like a cascade. Her body was curved like a guitar, her legs long and wide, white as snow. Her breasts were ample and slightly heavy, lending her a beautiful charm; white shoulders like the peak of a snowy mountain highlighted her lovely collarbones and slender neck. He hadn't paid this much attention to her last time.
— "I didn't ask your name last time, did I?"
— "You were in a hurry, it's no problem. My name is Cecilia."
His lips widened into a smile. — "Beautiful name, Cecilia."
— "Thank you." She realized she had remained standing by the door for a long time, so she moved swiftly to the chair on the other side of the table, her white dress swaying as she passed. She sat down and rested her head on one hand, smiling at him. Her eyes drifted from his dark clothes down to his wounded hands.
— "What happened?!" She gasped, lunging forward to grab Gantz's hand while looking at his battered knuckles, feeling the weight of his fist and the heat of his skin as she ran her hands over it.
— "I had complications."
She released his hand gently and cupped his face, turning it slowly from side to side as she looked at each wound.
— "Let's take care of this! I'm going to run you a bath!"
Gantz stood up abruptly and placed a hand on her shoulder. — "I didn't come here for that."
She smiled as she looked at his arm, slowly removed his hand, and pushed him back down into the chair.
— "I know when a man is full of desire, and when another just needs a little care." She took a step forward before giving him a kiss on the cheek and scurrying on her tiptoes into the bathroom.
— "Just a minute!"
— "...Okay."