The Mirror of Lethe
Inside the dark warehouse, only the steady beep-beep-beep of a computer hummed through the silence. Everyone standing there held their breath.
The disarmed mercenaries swallowed dryly, their eyes flicking between Roque ahead of them, the rifles clinging to the ceiling, and their boss, Bites.
They were waiting for a signal. These were seasoned fighters; losing their rifles didn't mean they were defenseless. The moment Bites gave the word, they'd draw their sidearms and swarm Roque.
But Bites signaled hold, not attack.
He raised both hands high, showing they were empty, and stepped forward.
"Talk, you said? I like talking too. Best when things wrap up without blood. Mind if I turn on some lights, then?"
Roque stared at the glint of his electronic eyes in the dark, then flicked his left fist sideways. The rifles stuck to the ceiling whipped through the air behind him, slamming into the warehouse wall and clattering to the floor. The quiet space erupted in noise.
Bites flinched at the flying guns but smirked at Roque's calm. He nodded toward a vehicle parked inside, signaling his men.
Glancing warily at Roque, they approached and flipped on the headlights. The pitch-black warehouse lit up enough to make out faces.
Bites clapped once, grinning wide.
"You're the Ronin. Midland's Aura Master mercenary."
"Call me that if you want."
"Pleasure. George Bites. Just Bites is fine."
"Roque."
Bites nodded amiably at the curt reply.
"Right, Roque. One thing first."
Roque's eyebrow twitched. Bites spread his palms innocently.
"How'd you respond so fast? Looks like you've got a mage too. Backed by another firm?"
"I work alone."
Bites's eyes narrowed.
"Our mage got hacked minutes ago. Not buying it. Keeping your backers secret? Fair. Good mercenaries keep secrets."
Roque didn't bother denying it. Let them think he had backup—it might make them hesitate. Fine by him.
Instead, he cut to the chase.
"Call off the hunt. This was an accident."
Bites blinked, stunned. He snorted.
"...You came here just to say that? An accident? After billions in damages?"
"Midland could've been wiped out. Then damages wouldn't matter—the corps would've vanished."
Bites let out a hollow laugh.
"Fine. Explain the accident, then. We've got footage: a lizard and steel giant shooting a kaiju flick in Cyber Space. Spill the details, and maybe we drop it."
Roque stayed silent. Explaining meant revealing Elizabeth, the dragons slumbering in her eyes. Half-assed lies wouldn't fly—they'd never believe without cracking open his and her skulls.
His silence hardened Bites's face.
"No explanation, but drop the chase? You think that's reasonable?"
Roque agreed. Megacorps didn't fold easy. Truth was, he hadn't come to talk him down.
He opened his right hand. The Aura Blade handle on his belt flew to his palm. Bites saw it clear.
"Hah, threaten to kill us all if we don't stop? Pointless. The corp sends more. Think you can take a megacorp alone? They're like small nations. Even an Aura Master can't solo thousands."
"Wanna bet?"
"...What?"
Roque's eyes were steady. Bites's face tightened as they met. Slowly, gray blade light crept from the handle.
"No damage costs more than lives."
Bites grimaced. True enough. But mercenaries traded lives for cash anyway.
"Fair. Numbers mean nothing against death..."
In a flash, he reached into his coat—lightning-fast for a pro.
But not fast enough for Roque's focused will.
"Gah!"
Bites's arms and legs splayed wide by force. His body even lifted slightly off the ground.
"Boss!"
"Fuck, what the—"
The waiting mercs jolted, drawing pistols and shotguns. Roque's gaze shifted to them.
Foam flecked Bites's lips as he yelled.
"Gotcha!"
His chest ripped open with a crack. Torn fabric revealed split ribs, writhing lungs, an artificial heart.
And in the center, a small mirror.
Roque instinctively focused his will on the surging energy. Smash it before it triggered. A crack spiderwebbed the glass.
But then, his eyes met his own reflection in the fractured mirror.
* * *
Rock blared from the radio.
Elizabeth bobbed her head in the passenger seat, hair swaying. Bini rocked along beside her.
The guitar solo kicked in. Elizabeth air-guitared like a pro, the riff filling the Black Knight.
While Roque handled business, she waited outside.
Blasting AC and pumping tunes had her in a trance. Bini danced with mechanical clanks.
Then, tap-tap on the passenger window.
Elizabeth froze, turning. A man peered in with a weird look. Oni race—horns, brutal face.
He clutched a paper bag, pistol in left hand. He'd tapped with the gun.
He waggled it at her. Roll down the window. She did.
"What're you?"
"Who're you, mister?"
"I asked first."
He pressed the barrel to her forehead. Bini crouched behind her. The man smirked at it, jagged teeth flashing.
"Think I won't shoot a kid? Ten years as a merc. Seen every shitshow."
"Mister has no time for Elizabeth."
He tilted his head.
"Why?"
"Worry about me instead."
The voice from behind made him whirl. He didn't see the face before a jaw-cracking hook dropped him. The bag spilled beer cans and snacks.
Kayla dusted her hands and spat on him.
"Filthy hands are your pride, asshole."
Elizabeth waved.
"Hi, Kayla."
Kayla's cold glare softened into a grin.
"Hey, Elizabeth. Good to see you."
"Elizabeth happy too."
Dusting off with a chuckle, Kayla planted hands on hips.
"Alright, you called, I came. But really negotiating with X-Techno?"
"No price beats life cost."
"...Huh?"
"Roque said."
Kayla clutched her forehead, dazed.
"...Don't tell me his 'plan' is threatening them: drop the probe or die?"
"Don't wanna die, they'll listen."
Kayla yanked off her goggles, covering her face.
"...We could've been on a boat from Midland docks by now."
"Don't worry too much. Roque won't really kill them all."
Elizabeth propped elbows on the doorframe, chin on hands, calm. Kayla peeked.
"Then?"
"Real fight means too many dead. Roque won't die, they can't kill him. He's showing them that."
Kayla blinked, then sighed and nodded.
"Yeah... guy's survived Midland merc life for years. He's got something. He's inside?"
"Yeah."
Kayla eyed the warehouse oddly. Dim light from windows, no shots or crashes. Actual negotiation-extortion?
"Huh. If that guy showed at corp HQ waving a lightsaber... I'd negotiate too."
Recalling Roque mowing down armed goons, she nodded. Aura Blade cleaved anything; even megacorp lords bowed.
Plus, he did weird shit: telekinesis, Cyber Space dives. Couldn't box him as just Aura Master.
Suddenly, Elizabeth lifted her head, face stiffening.
"What?"
"...Dragon relic."
"What? Again?"
Kayla, relic-traumatized from Hugo, sounded baffled. Elizabeth bolted out, racing to the warehouse. Kayla chased; Bini followed late.
"Wait! Alone's dangerous!"
Catching up, Kayla scooped her up. Elizabeth blinked at the soft expanse against her head.
"This way. Piggyback."
Shifting Elizabeth to her back, Kayla veered from the door to a ladder beside. Better support from high ground.
Climbing fast, she asked:
"Dragon relic—what's it matter? Last time Roque shredded 'em all."
Arms around Kayla's neck, Elizabeth whispered:
"Feels different. Not like that mage's junk pile. Proper spell activated."
Kayla shrugged internally but reached the roof. A downed, armored merc lay there—Roque's pre-entry work. She snatched his rifle. Late Bini kicked the body.
Glass skylight ahead. They peered in.
"...What the hell?"
"Elizabeth doesn't know."
Simple scene: Roque alone at entrance, mercs aiming at him, Bites writhing between.
Kayla eased open the lock, listening. Bites's voice:
"...Keh, damn it, Roque! The relic's busted!"
Bites sat up gingerly, checking his chest. Shattered implant-mirror shards pierced guts. Men extracted glass, patched him.
Roque stood motionless.
Bites glared through pain, teeth gritted, eyeing the Aura Blade handle—now a plain wood stump, no light.
Roque stared blankly, holding it.
"Heh... caught me off-guard earlier. Knew you Aura Master, but telekinesis? If not for the blade, I'd say bad intel."
Patched up, Bites rose slowly, approaching.
"I get your confidence now. Not your average Aura Master. Next level? Super? Grand? Whatever."
He stopped—dozen paces away.
"...But like others, no mods. Know what you smashed? Dragon relic from my homeland. Complex spell."
He eyed men; they circled Roque, guns steady.
"Family tomes cracked it: Mirror of Lethe. Old magic, weird effect: 'Sends target's mind to the past.' Useless? Nah, I found the trick."
Bites watched Roque ramble-test. Weird powers might resist.
Roque dropped the handle with a thud. Bites smirked.
"...Mind to the past. Odd spell. But why dragons made it? Probably for Aura Masters. Victims never summoned blades before death. Like you now."
Aura Blade bloomed from extreme training, at conscious-unconscious edge. Calling it defied words—experience only.
Erase that, blade stays but can't be summoned. Forgotten entirely.
More time might differ, but Bites wanted kills, not tests. He'd gutted himself for implants and relic to slay Aura Masters.
He signaled encircling men.
"Last one this works on, since you smashed it. We'll take your corpse. Telekinetic Aura Master—gonna dissect that brain. Clean kill."
Last to approaching merc with hidden greatsword—for ribs to heart.
Roque's blank eyes flickered focus. Bites tensed.
Spell victims: daze, confusion, futile barehanded fight. Then death.
Bites wanted intact body:
"He's stirring. Finish before rampage."
Merc lunged sword-first, precise heart stab.
"Huh?"
Wrist halted mid-thrust. Roque gripped it. Merc met his eyes.
Deep in black pupils, crimson flames roared.
Something slashed the merc's throat. He choked, staggering back.
"...Johnny?"
Johnny turned slowly. Eyes widened: throat shredded. Blood gushed; he crumpled.
Gazes snapped to Roque.
He dropped the throat-chunk from his left hand.
Bites saw bloodied hand, icy face, killing eyes—lips quivered.
"...Salmun... Salmun Master—"
Bang! A nearby merc's head exploded. Eyes to ceiling: Kayla with rifle. Guns swung her way.
Bites panicked.
"No! The killer first—"
Too late. Roque had already twisted another's neck full circle.