Lord Of Beasts

”They really do have it easy,” Kaela muttered.

Ethan followed her gaze, looking down at the city that had already burst back to life after receiving the all-clear.

”But I wouldn’t trade places with them,” he responded.

’I would much rather die than go back to how I was living.’

As much as they had to endure, it was better than feeling insignificant and lost. If not for receiving a Title, he likely would have ended up back in a life of crime, either getting himself killed or locked up again.

That was if a Gate Break didn’t claim him first.

The woman beside him nodded.

”Cheers to that.”

She took another swig of her bottle of hard liquor, drinking it effortlessly like it was water. As she did, Ethan flicked the cigarette he had just finished off the roof before lighting another using a small flame from the tip of his finger.

Using Minor Assimilation momentarily just to light a cigarette was a waste of mana, but that didn’t stop him.

”Now that’s a useful ability,” she commented.

Kaela still didn’t understand the extent of his abilities, but she knew much more than she did before the Gate.

”So those tattoos of yours are the source of your power?”

Ethan nodded, since she wasn’t entirely wrong and he didn’t feel like explaining any further than that.

”They make you look like a weirdo with an identity crisis.”

He laughed and couldn’t argue with that.

”But I’d be lying if I said they weren’t pretty cool.”

She was especially fascinated by the engraving linked to the Lightning Dragonfly she had faced, which was also the only tattoo visible to her. The others were under Ethan’s clothes and the cast on his arm.

But she could see that he didn’t want to talk about his Title and wasn’t as open about it as she was. Both of them just wanted some time to clear their minds, and she didn’t feel like prying any further.

Though there was one thing she was curious about.

”So...”

She glanced sideways.

”What was your nightmare?”

Ethan shrugged casually.

”I spent a couple of months back in prison.”

She blinked.

”That’s it?”

He nodded.

”Pretty much.”

His tone remained completely nonchalant, almost dismissive, but Kaela could see from the look in his eyes that it hadn’t been that simple. It was that of someone who had been through hell and came out of it worse than the devils he had been trapped with.

She quietly decided not to tease him any further.

Instead, Ethan looked over.

”What about you?”

Kaela took another swig before answering.

”I got locked inside a completely silent, white room.”

Ethan stared.

”That’s your nightmare?”

”Yep.”

”No monsters?”

”Nope.”

”No torture?”

”Nope.”

”No pain?”

”Nope.”

Ethan burst into loud, genuine laughter.

”Kaela...”

He struggled to breathe.

”That sounds like a holiday.”

She stared at him in disbelief, thinking back to the torturous lack of stimulation where the only entertainment she had was her own heartbeat.

”You serious?”

He laughed even harder.

”I would’ve loved that.”

”And I’d have taken prison over mine. It was a breeze when I was in the can. No, it was fucking great.”

Ethan didn’t know she’d been incarcerated before, but then again, looking at her, it would be more surprising if she hadn’t.

”What were you locked up for?”

She shrugged casually.

”Not much, just some assault and battery charges. You know how it gets. I lived like a queen in there, none of those bitches had nothing on me.”

”I’m sure you did,” he laughed.

She didn’t bother asking him the same question, already having snooped at his record and having an idea of the life he had lived. The two of them laughed together, each convinced the other had gotten the better deal.

It was clear that the Golden Flutterer had crafted nightmares perfectly suited to torment each of them. They then began guessing what the others experienced, laughing uncontrollably as they did.

But as the amusement slowly faded, they exchanged a knowing glance.

”We’re both just bad people trying to be good.”

”Hey, speak for yourself. I’m actually a great person,” Kaela refuted jokingly.

Though as good as they were trying to be, they were both still unsure if it would be enough to save the world crumbling under pressure in real time.

All they could do was strap in for the journey...

-

It wasn’t long before a giant aircraft descended from the clouds.

Unlike the standard Association transport, this one dwarfed everything else on the runway.

Its sleek black hull gleamed beneath the afternoon sun, the Association’s silver crest emblazoned across its side. Four enormous turbines hummed quietly, stabilising the giant jet as it settled onto the landing pad with surprising grace for something of its size.

Even Kaela let out a low whistle.

They had all been gathered by black suits as they watched the rear ramp lower slowly. Several Association personnel stepped out first, quickly forming two orderly lines before saluting.

Only then did the man of the hour emerge from the aircraft.

”The Association Head...”

Darius muttered under his breath.

Harold descended the ramp with his usual composed expression, dressed impeccably and radiating vitality despite his age and the stress of his role. Even after travelling across the country on such short notice, he looked as though he’d simply stepped out of his office.

The survivors straightened instinctively.

Harold gave them each a brief nod.

”Good work.”

It was only two words.

Yet coming from the Association Head, they carried considerable weight.

”I’ve already received the preliminary report,” he continued. ”The details can wait until we’re airborne. You’ll all be returning to New York with me.”

No one objected.

Quite frankly, none of them had the energy to, and they were all based in the city anyway.

One by one, they boarded the enormous jet.

The interior looked less like an aircraft and more like a flying command centre, with large briefing tables, private medical rooms, and communication stations. It was like a small portable association base.

Comfortable seating that immediately tempted everyone into falling asleep, especially after the treatment they had received. They all looked much better thanks to the Association’s medicine, technology, and healing abilities, which were leagues above those of ordinary hospitals.

But even that couldn’t take away the mental fatigue.

That would take time.

Though they were more than well enough to be questioned...

-

There was one survivor of what they had dubbed the Insect Gate who was missing. The same man whom they hadn’t seen the entire time, yet had somehow come out unscathed.

After returning to Earth, the strange C Rank wandered around until discovering an industrial dumping site filled with wrecked vehicles, scrap metal, and discarded machinery. He entered it and immediately started doing the only thing he seemed to enjoy doing.

Punching.

Car doors, steel beams, concrete slabs - he slammed his fists into anything within reach, crushing everything with ease. The scrapyard owner was naturally startled at first, but he didn’t even try to stop him.

Quite the opposite.

The man had accidentally become the world’s most efficient demolition worker, and the owner was all for it. He didn’t have to pay him, he didn’t speak, and he was doing his job for him.

What was there to complain about?

The black suits showed up not long after, offering to get rid of him if he was causing a disturbance, but the man was very adamant that he stay. And after checking in with the Association Head, they did exactly that.

Harold’s order had been to leave him be since he wasn’t causing any harm, and as such, the insane C Rank claimed the scrapyard as his new home. There was someone else that he was much more interested in...

-

Ethan did not doubt that he was going to be questioned, but he never expected to see who he did.

’You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

Despite also being one of the busiest people in the country, he’d personally boarded the flight, which meant whatever was about to happen was important enough to demand both of their attention.

And it was clear what had drawn them here.

The Gate, the Takeovers, the impossible sequence of events surrounding the blue-eyed man, it was becoming harder and harder to dismiss them as a coincidence. Harold’s sharp eyes settled on Ethan for a brief moment before gesturing toward the conference table.

”We have much to discuss.”

His tone was polite and professional, but Ethan felt like he had no choice and could feel that this wasn’t going to be a casual conversation. It was finally time to answer the question that had been hanging over him since the first Gate he entered.

Why did every impossible incident somehow seem to involve Ethan Crowe?