Light (3)

"You are not human," Kael said.

He chose this as his opening line, which, frankly, was not a good choice—in fact, it was a terrible one.

However, his tone remained calm, as if he were merely stating a fact.

"Then, neither are you," The Emperor replied.

He returned the same level of composure.

"This means we have begun a formal exchange."

Kael nodded calmly. "So, what is it that you had to send them away to discuss with me?"

"Many things," The Emperor said.

He did not deny the implication of having "sent them away."

The giant then took another step forward and extended his right hand.

That hand, encased in golden armor, hovered in mid-air, held perfectly steady. The relief of the double-headed eagle gleamed on his vambrace; even the darkness could not obscure such brilliant splendor.

In fact, the darkness feared him.

Before he had even appeared, the beasts of the wasteland had all fled. Their inferior intellects could not comprehend what was happening, but their instincts could.

Leave, or die. That was what their instincts told them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kael asked, his pace slow.

"A greeting, a necessary formality, or a covenant. It all depends on how you choose."

Kael laughed.

"I don't think you've given me the chance to choose—besides, we have already shaken hands once."

"That time was for the sake of salvation."

"But you didn't mention the price."

"The price is not important right now."

"Is that so? I would like to hear it."

The giant among giants slowly lowered his noble head, his eyes radiating a brilliant golden light, the laurel wreath shining upon his brow.

Yet Kael remained unmoved.

He was completely indifferent to this god-like visage—or mask. Something was even churning in the depths of those pitch-black eyes.

"You wish to know the truth," The Emperor said slowly. "But this truth may not be to your liking."

Kael Lohars stared into his eyes, the golden radiance failing to change the darkness in the slightest.

Then, he took a step forward and grasped the hand that was far too large for him.

"I have nothing left to fear," he said.

The world spun.

Reason was torn apart, then stitched back together.

Memories far too ancient rushed forward, and the countless darknesses buried within them struck like choking dust. Their fingers were wrapped in bandages, their bodies hollowed of organs, and the scent of a peculiar herbal concoction began to permeate Kael's nostrils.

He breathed.

Then he breathed again—a deep, steady breath.

"A mummy?" he asked.

"Yes," a man in white robes, standing barefoot on the stone floor, answered Kael's question.

The exhaustion on his face was the same as it had been last time. He no longer wore the laurel wreath, nor was he clad in golden armor; he simply stood there like an ordinary man.

"Egypt?" Kael asked again.

"Yes."

"So, you were once a pharaoh?"

"Yes," the man said.

Kael shook his head, pacing through the pyramid where flames burned, his voice still calm: "When we last met, the location you showed me was a primitive tribe, and you said it was located at the junction of Eurasia."

"That is correct."

"So, you went from being a barbarian to an Egyptian pharaoh?"

"No, more than that. I have held many identities, many names."

The man paused, a trance-like look crossing his weary face. He seemed to realize something and said, "You may call me Neos."

"I wouldn't dare address you by your name—your armor reveals something, and if I am not mistaken, you must be an emperor."

"The Emperor." Neos corrected. "I have designed many identities for myself, and then played them out. Usually, I would not do so, unless humanity were on the brink of catastrophe."

Kael chuckled, turning to lean his arms against the pharaoh's tomb. "How many?"

"Countless."

"What kinds?"

"Gods, men, madmen, kings, prophets. Men, women, the elderly, children. Every life you have ever known, I have experienced."

"Immortality?" Kael asked.

Neos did not answer; he knew Kael already had his answer—the ghost from the distant past was staring into his eyes, and at this moment, he wore no mask.

The man named Kael Lohars was not blind, so he could see clearly.

"Immortality." Kael nodded. "A truly cruel punishment. Was it innate, or a penalty?"

Neos smiled; it was the first time he had shown any emotional fluctuation.

"I am glad you can call it a punishment—but I fear humanity lacks the capacity to punish a man in such a way."

"Perhaps it was not humanity that punished you." Kael said calmly. "Perhaps it was them."

"They are incapable of such things. Besides, you seem to have known of me before we even met. Did they tell you?"

"Prometheus." Kael slowly spat out the ancient name. "God of gods, a name meaning foresight, the Titan who stole the sacred fire to bring flame to the earth and to mankind."

He narrowed his eyes, looking at the ordinary and weary man before him, and shook his head.

"What have you been through?" Kael asked softly. "And what has humanity been through?"

"Disaster." Neos answered briefly, a deep furrow appearing between his brows. "A great disaster."

Kael shook his head.

"A riddle-like exchange. And you seem to enjoy it?"

"Some things are destined to be buried, so yes, I do enjoy letting you reach the truth while sparing you the contact with the dust of that history."

Kael laughed again.

"Let's talk business." He said curtly. "What is going on with my body?"

"It has to do with your essence." Neos responded to his query in a calmer tone; he was focused, his eyes revealing as much.

"Essence?"

"You and I both know well that a ghost drifting behind that veil is unlikely to be human."

Neos said in a low voice, his words echoing between the ancient walls. "As for your body, I merely brought it back to life and made a few small adjustments. What truly changed it was your essence."

Kael nodded noncommittally. "And what is my essence, Mr. Neos?"

"I cannot answer that question." Neos said.

He was not refusing; he was merely stating a fact. His eyes were so sorrowful at this moment, as if pitying the future of the one who asked.

Kael waited calmly.

Just as he had said—he had nothing left to fear.

"Words have power, and I have already signed a contract with your body to bring it back from the dead. If I speak, your spirit will be altered by the flesh—they are already tightly bound, Kael Lohars. You can no longer be that ghost."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Kael said. "That was not a pleasant experience."

Neos smiled again. "Do you loathe that feeling?"

"If I still consider myself human, I could not possibly like it."

"Then, what of immortality?"

Kael also smiled, his expression holding a visible trace of contempt—Neos was not angry; he knew who that contempt was directed toward.

"If this is a test, then your ability to communicate is truly terrifying."

"Perhaps, perhaps this really is just a test, or perhaps it is just an idle question of mine—but none of that is the point."

Pitch-black pupils met a pair of weary, ancient eyes; neither retreated, both attempting to excavate the emotions and buried answers within the other's heart.

Like two people gripping the same dagger, locked in a struggle, trying to slice open the other's heart to see what lay inside.

"The point is." Neos stood up slowly, his form shifting.

He became tall, god-like; thunder and lightning swirled around him, flames bowed at his feet, and the darkness retreated in an instant, shivering as it turned into dust in the air.

The scene within the pyramid dissipated in a heartbeat, transforming into a winding river. They stood within this river, staring at one another.

"The point is what, Emperor?" Kael asked calmly.

"Whether you are willing to sign this covenant."

The Emperor answered ruthlessly and indifferently. "The eighth tool has come to view you as his father in every practical sense; therefore, if I require him as a blade, I must obtain your consent."

Kael did not answer immediately, remaining silent. He gazed at that ruthless face, a trace of pity actually flickering in his dark eyes.

"First of all, he is a person."

He said slowly. "Secondly, I will not dictate any of his actions, at most offering only suggestions. His future should be decided by himself."

"He is a Primarch," The Emperor declared coldly. "He is one of the futures I have forged, and therefore, he must abide by certain rules."

"The rules are his to set, Emperor."

"You cannot truly leave his future to his own choosing; you know as well as I do what hides in the dark."

Kael merely offered a faint smile. "Indeed, which is why I do not believe the Night Haunter—or Konrad Curze—will fall to them."

He burst into laughter, his voice filled with nothing but scorn and coldness.

"Those wretched, twisted monsters dare not even face the light; they cannot fool him."

In the silence, The Emperor nodded.

"Then," he spoke slowly, "welcome, Kael Lohars."

"No need," Kael said.

He gazed at the god-like figure, then slowly shook his head. "This ruthless mask of yours is hurting you. You are bleeding; can you not see it?"

"I know," The Emperor said. "But I must wound myself so that humanity may survive."

"Sooner or later, it will wound others as well, Emperor," Kael said softly.