After running around in a dense fog for who knew how long, nothing had changed for Quinn. Since he was unable to use his powers as well, he was almost sure he was in some type of dream or the afterlife.
That was until he heard a voice.
"Who said that?" Quinn shouted back. It was a voice that was familiar to him but he couldn't quite pinpoint just who it was.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time. In fact, it's not just me; there are a lot of people waiting for you, but not all of them seem to be so kind."
Trying to track where the voice was coming from was almost impossible, even with Quinn's super hearing. It was echoing all over the place, but what was bugging him more than anything was the fact that the voice felt familiar to him.
The fog started to swirl around, gathering in a certain area, and a human figure was starting to appear. Finally, his full body was in view.
"That was a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"It's you," Quinn said with a twang in his voice, confused. "But aren't you dead? Does that mean I'm really dead?"
"If that's the case, then what about Layla? What about the others? What happened to them? Are they okay?"
There was no answer, infuriating Quinn and causing him to panic even more.
"Answer me, Paul!" Quinn shouted.
The figure that had appeared in front of Quinn was none other than Paul Sneallart. He was a person from Quinn's past but had played a large part in his life. In charge of one of the military bases where the students would go through, and one of those students being Quinn.
He had been then placed in charge of an assault on the Vampire settlement. It ended in failure as he was captured, striking a deal he had been turned into a vampire along with the soldiers he had brought with him.
Looking back at it, the soldiers were what had eventually become the vampire corps, but as for Paul himself, he had met his end, trying to protect Kazz from Laxmus.
"I don't know the current situation, Quinn!" Paul eventually answered. "For me, it has been the same since that day, the day I suffered from Laxmus's blood breath. It has felt as if only a few moments have passed since then. There is one thing that I can tell you for sure, you are not dead, I can feel it; your body is not present here."
The answer hadn't helped Quinn figure out where he was, but it did allow him to settle down a little.
'Is this something that Immortui has done, making me meet with the dead?' Quinn thought, since he was a celestial that was closely linked with death.
"I wanted to ask you, Quinn, did you figure out what it means to be a leader?" Paul asked. "In the past, you had criticized many of the decisions I had made. I had explained to you why I did what I did. I assume you've been through a lot since my passing."
The world that Quinn grew up in wasn't a great one at all. Those that had naturally weaker abilities were treated like trash, while those that were strong were glorified. The military seemed to care about nothing else at the time.
They would threaten with Jack Truedream's power and even held people captive that they deemed were too dangerous.
"I've lost a lot, in the position I'm in," Quinn answered. "I had to make difficult choices that resulted in the death of others. A lot of deaths, I feel like could have been prevented... but maybe more would have taken place if I didn't do those things.
"I learned that when you're in that position, you do what you think is right at the time, and as long as you are sticking to that, can we really say it was a bad decision? I understand why you did what you did back then. I might not approve of it, but I can see you did it with good intentions."
If Quinn's eyes weren't tricking him, he could have sworn he saw a smile on Paul's face.
"I don't regret what I have done either," Paul said. "Including sacrificing my life for that girl."
If Paul's current memories were of right when he died, then he would have had no clue that Kazz had died shortly after. Quinn decided to keep this to himself.
"You still have a promise to keep, young boy," Paul said.
The promise Quinn had made with not just Paul but the vampire soldiers that no longer existed, he remembered it well. It was something that he never forgot.
"I'm working on it, it might be the reason why I'm here," Quinn laughed.
Paul started to walk over to Quinn, and the two of them stood facing each other.
"I don't know why, Quinn, but I know what it is that I need to do next, and what is going to happen to you. Maybe it's because I'm the first in this world.
"For me to leave this place, I'm going to touch you, and when I do, all of the pain that I experienced from my last moments will be passed onto you. Are you ready?"
It was quite possible that Quinn was being tricked right now, but it felt like the real Paul was in front of him, and there was nothing else in the space. If this was the way to move forward, then he needed to make a decision.
Giving a nod, Paul placed his hands on Quinn's shoulder. Almost immediately, Quinn felt a searing pain all over his skin. It felt like he was being microwaved from the outside and inside.
"ARGHHH!!" Quinn screamed at the top of his lungs as his body was shaking violently. It wasn't just pain on the level where it would enter Quinn. This was exactly Paul's pain. It was the level of pain he felt when he was being incinerated by Immortui's power.
However, for Quinn, that wasn't the worst part. Tears were falling down his face and evaporating, flashes of anger were entering his mind, sorrow, and more. A mix and wave of different emotions were being bombarded into his head.
'This... this is everything that Paul felt at the end of his life... I wish... I wish I could have saved him.'
Eventually, the pain had come to an end, and when it did, he opened his eyes, and Paul's body was disappearing into mist to join the fog again.
"Quinn, it looks like there are a lot of people waiting on you, but I give you a warning. I lived a life without regret. I've seen how much you have grown, but there seem to be many that have grudges against you... it won't be as easy as this."
With Paul gone, the mist started to form into another figure once more, bringing on the question, who was he going to meet next?
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