Chapter 11: His Dream
"I might die?" Logan’s eyes narrowed, the sensation of being bogged down by a great weight encompassing his mind. His mind went black, reeling back into the furthest corners of his subconscious. He’d also felt it—understood it, even, but he refused to acknowledge it.
The succubus only sighed, nodding her head. "Correct. You must’ve noticed it too, given your increased perception."
"Yes, the massive outpouring of mana that my body did on its own when I assimilated your power."
She smiled. "Good, then you understand the dangers of replicating such a feat."
It was a basic principle—one that he’d been taught since grade school. How, without mana, no person could survive. Over eons, humans evolved to need mana to supplement their cells, a biological dependency referred to as Arcanic Convergence. With humans, they all possessed mana cores, essentially functioning as a secondary heart in the respect that it circulated nutrients all throughout the body.
Though, in the case of the Gifted, they could control this organ—arduous as it is to master it.
With solemnity, he resigned to the fate, letting a sigh escape his lips. "If I release too much mana and don’t immediately recover it, I may completely run down my core‚ as I almost did when absorbing you."
She didn’t respond, lowering herself to the same level as the bed to gently sit down on its soft material. Then, as carefree as ever, she rested her head on her two hands, completely supine with crossed legs.
Taking the moment of silence to wad through his thoughts, Logan closed his eyes, allowing a cruel smile to encroach upon his lips.
The cruel irony, for this new power he’d obtained to be so painfully hard to master. He understood just how lucky he’d gotten in his first encounter with the succubus, but to think that right when he saw the light at the end of the tunnel, there would be an additional set of obstacles along his path.
"Hey, I’ve gotta ask. Why didn’t you kill me when you saw me again in this form? I mean, I’m defenseless, and I did try to end your life not even minutes before."
Logan allowed light to peek through only his left eye, tilting his chin down with careful consideration. "I’m not like you, I don’t kill others that easily. And, for that matter, I didn’t really have a reason to kill you."
The succubus flinched like someone had hurled a punch in her direction. "N-not a reason to kill you? I literally tried to murder you, what are you—"
"Is that reason enough? Hm, I suppose it might be for someone like you. After all, you have to kill to live, it’s only natural."
Scratching her scalp, she calmed herself with a great inhale. "It’s not just me, idiot. Plenty of men—human and spiritual—murder for far less. I mean, I killed a guy once just for looking at me the wrong way."
Logan wasn’t particularly fond of how nonchalantly she mentioned murder, but he didn’t take it upon himself to be overly scrutinizing. "I see. Then may that be one of the first things I change once I actualize my dream."
"Your dream...?"
He stood up, a plain shadow looming just beneath his eyes, an affliction of the serious expression in his face. "Yes, to create a world where these dumb, false dichotomies such as the "weak" and "strong" stop existing; a world where my sister can live carefree, exempt from the horrible dangers of life without the Gift."
How childish! You believe that you can completely rid this world of discrimination—a problem that has existed long before you were born? Of all the outrageous claims I’ve heard throughout my years, that may just be—"
"Shut up!" Despite having no mana to support his voice, the guttural snarl in his tone was enough to snatch her attention. "What do you know? You’re just some succubus. The United Federation of America—this sick, territory-based country must change. And I’ll make that change, one way or another. Even if I must fight the entire world, even if I must retaliate against the gods. I will allow this world to reach its third renaissance—to support a world where social class is no more!"
Smugly, she sat up with crossed arms. "Oh yeah? And how will you do that?"
"By joining the Spirit Executioners and becoming the Emperor’s personal champion—First Chair of the Court of Paladins. That is the type of man I will become."
Closely, the succubus watched the way Logan’s fists spurned with youthful flare, shaking from how tightly they were gripped. "You remind me of another—an old friend of mine, who carried ambitions similar to yours—though the old fart was lucky enough to learn basic pragmatism with old age. I wonder if you’ll come to your wits before your undoing."
For a minute, Logan could only sharply glare into the succubus’ eyes, almost burning his vision into her own.
’What is that woman’s intentions?’ he contemplated, raising his index finger and thumb to his chin. Only once his vision settled on her tiny form—the way she struggled to maintain her balance, even when sitting down—did he realize that there was no point in understanding so trivialities.
"What, see something you like?" she joked, half-turning her ass in his direction. Obviously, she’d latched onto how long he was staring.
He scoffed. "In that little form of yours? Don’t kid yourself, I just find you wildly amusing in the same way I do a dog."
"Why, you...!"
"But, yes. I will bring my dream to fruition—to create a better world for my sister. And you’re going to help me."
With a raised brow, the succubus flew up in the air, occupying the space just inches from his face. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"
Smiling, Logan grabbed her by the wing—much to her frustration—before pulling her directing in front of his eye. "Of course, because of this small form of yours. You need mana to restore it, don’t you? Mana that you don’t currently possess—mana that you need me to accumulate inside my very core. It’s part of the contract, y’know."
With her eyes rapidly twitching, her only response was an unintentional croak, not knowing what to say. Still, Logan could infer what she was thinking. "Don’t worry, though. I’ll uphold my end of the deal, just as long as you help me master this power so that I may never hurt the ones I love again."
"Fine, then. I’m a brutal instructor, though. My first lesson might be impossible for someone—khhh, like you." Smiling, she pulled herself free of Logan’s grip, plopping down on the bed.
"Bring it on."