The silver ring she wore on her index finger glistened like always, catching the sunlight as it reflected off of it, right into his right eye.
As he stood there, the ambience of chatting in the apparel store was drowned out as a ringing filled his ears. He reached his hand out to accept the gift, unable to hold back from smiling himself as the glee of his sibling was too contagious.
"Alright, you don't have to pester me. I'll put it on right–" Jasper said as he grabbed the sleeve.
Before the last word could roll off his tongue, everything came down; a loud noise blared into his ears as the ceiling itself rained down in chunks. It was only for a split second that he witnessed the chaos before something landed on his head, bringing everything to black.
"...Ueaah...?" He groaned.
On his stomach, he felt a weight on his back, hardly able to open his eyes as his vision was left blurry. With his ears ringing, what sounded like popping and screaming was lightly heard until suddenly—his senses kicked in.
Gunshots rang through the city, screams of fear and agony filled the streets, and roars of bestial nature overwhelmed it all.
"What the...? Gale! Where are you?!" He called out, attempting to pick himself up.
The walls of the establishment he was in had crashed down, with the ceiling gone and the sky seen above; it held a blood-red complexion.
'What's going on...? What happened? I lost consciousness...?' Jasper wondered.
Again, he tried to pick himself up, though was brought right back down, "Hfff...! Gale!" He shouted.
All he could see ahead was the debris of the shop, with chunks of the walls stacking up. Against his back, he could only assume from the rigidness to be a chunk of the wall. He struggled to move, scraping his fingers against the tiles as he desperately tried to get up, hearing the chaos in the streets he couldn't even turn to see.
"Gale...!" He continued to shout until his throat was strained, doing everything in his power to try and stand, even as his back felt as though it began to fracture.
Through the sounds of chaos–screams, gunfire, roars and all–he struggled until a voice met his ears directly.
[...Assessing life experience...]
[Assessment Complete]
[Name: Jasper Fitzgerald]
[Age: 22]
[Designated Class: Knight]
"Ngh!--" He winced.
The heavy swings of its claws and snaps of its jaws smacked against his shield, bringing him on the backfoot before another step back caused his ankle to press against a piece of debris.
"Ah–"
He lost his balance, tripping over as he fell onto his back. The scaled beast wasted no chance as it pounced on him, forcing him to place his shield between himself and its claws. It weighed too much, causing his simple shield to press into his own chest.
Breathing became a struggle as only raspy breaths escaped his lungs, unable to draw any air in while the creature continued snapping its jaws at him, only held back by mere inches. Its saliva dripped onto his face, sliding down his cheek as he could smell its foul breath.
"Get off!--"
As he struggled to lift the shield from his chest, let alone push the beast off, its rampant flailing brought one of its claws to drag across his face, slicing right over his right eye. It brought a yell from his lips as blood sprayed out, though that moment filled him with the courage to lift his sword.
He felt the weight of the scaled monster press against his chest as he pushed the blade towards it from an awkward angle. It slid between its scales, piercing its exposed flesh through its neck. Sinking the blade deep enough, the erratic sounds made from the reptile's mouth settled into rugged breaths before it stopped moving.
As he slid the soaked sword out, the wound gushed with an abundance of scarlet fluid, splashing onto him.
["Lesser Newt defeated."] ["Anarch Token x15 obtained."]
[Experience Points: +950] [950/1000]
He laid there for a moment, catching his breath as the beast collapsed beside him. As he looked up at the crimson sky, helicopters passed overhead.
"Just what in bloody hell is going on?" Jasper quietly asked at the devastating scenery.
Some time was taken before he picked himself up, not rising to his feet as he crawled over to the section of rubble that left his heart aching. The whole world around him seemed to be crumbling; one look at the streets left a harrowing sight of countless dead.
"What do I do, Gale?...Without you, what's the point? I don't have anything," he asked with a tremble to his voice, inflected by tears.
As he sat there on his knees, squeezing the hand of the one dear to him, he laid his forehead against the flat, white brick of debris. The chaos was drowned out as he remembered; holding that hand, a moment so long ago resurfaced–
No older than eight years old, at the pale-white hospital, he stood there as his mother held the infant in her arms; small and delicate, as though a breeze could take her away. How happy he was, filled with glee as he held the hand much tinier than his own; the little fingers wrapped around his pinky with a gentle hold.
"...Gale..." The name left his lips with sorrow, though a warmth resounded in his chest.
Precious; life was precious–that's what he felt when remembering that core moment. If nothing else, it gave him enough meaning to stand up, even with weak steps, even if he stumbled; it was enough to walk forward.