Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Like a beacon in the dark.

What the hell is it doing here?!

That was the only thought Gil had time to process as the specter finished pulling itself out of the puddle on the floor.

Almost by reflex, he summoned his sphere around himself and placed his body directly between the thing and his allies. But far from being cautious or backing away, the apparition—seemingly stimulated by the manifestation of the sphere—charged straight at him.

It slammed against his barrier, slashing relentlessly without stopping, as if it had lost all sense of reason.

Deciding it was a terrible idea to stay there with the others trapped behind him, Gil transmitted through their link: « Guys, get out from behind me. Go find cover somewhere quickly. But try not to draw too much attention to yourselves! »

Despite how contradictory the instructions sounded, Gil sent them anyway. Seeing him tense and fighting against empty air, the others obeyed—even if they were confused, they understood, they had to leave him.

A brief glint flashed in Orphée's eyes as he led the rest away. Greg, who seemed to have some idea of the danger, muttered a quick "Be careful!" before retreating with the group into one of the designated resting areas.

As they were going,Gil prepared himself for the specter to shift its focus and attack them—he was even ready to charge blindly forward to draw its aggro—but it turned out he had overthought things.

The specter continued its frantic, ceaseless slashes against his sphere, completely ignoring Greg and the others.

In fact, it wasn't just them.

The creature seemed entirely oblivious to the rest of the captives as well, locking its focus solely onto Gil while hurling a barrage of its limb-like appendages straight into his shield.

It really had energy to spare. He couldn't help but smile coldly. Looks like everyone takes me for a punching bag around here.

Feeling his rage rising over everything that had happened so far—a frustration he hadn't found an outlet for until one showed up right on his doorstep—he weighed his options. What should he do? For now, his barrier was holding, but he didn't know for how long.

Furthermore, checking on his remaining reserves, he realized he was running dangerously low, and every blow the shadow dealt to his barrier drained him a little more. Granted, it consumed far less than maintaining the telepathic link between him and the others, but even so, he was on a ticking clock.

All right.

Yet he wasn't particularly afraid. Now calmer he remembered from his experiences in the arena and later in the sanctuary, he had realized that these creatures apparently couldn't affect the others—only him. Besides, as long as he stayed behind his barrier and it held, he was theoretically safe.

Deciding to end this as quickly as possible, he materialized a mid-sized, blood-red shard and launched it directly into the shadow in front of him.

*Swoosh*

After a short flight the attack embedded itself in the shade.

For the first time, the shadow—which seemed entirely mindless and capable of nothing but attacking—froze mid-strike. After a tremor, it dissolved into clumps of red light, leaving nothing behind.

Gil looked on coldly as it disappeared,

Hmm... I don't get it. Is it because we're outside this time, or is it just one of those that don't leave anything behind? he couldn't help but wonder.

Truth be told, aside from the initial fright, he had handled the strange apparition rather well.

It was more a scare than actual damage. After all, this was already his third encounter with those things.

How do they say it? First time, a acquaintance; second time, accustomed; third time, you master it—or something like that.

Anyway, despite having disposed of the shade, he looked at where the puddle had been. Gil realized it had vanished at some point without him even noticing.

Although all the dangerous elements seemed to have disappeared, Gil couldn't help but frown even harder after this brief exchange.

Why did it appear? The question echoed back into his head.

Lifting his head, he looked at the red dot in his sight and couldn't help letting his expression turn even grimmer. Deep in thought, he kept a firm eye on the ceiling just in case there was another change.

On the first night, he hadn't run into this problem though. Remembering the very first time he had found himself in this room, he had heard voices—he had even unlocked and used his sight for the first time right here.

But apart from the ominous red color tinting the ceiling, there was nothing remarkable, nothing special. As for the rising smell of blood... sure, he had heard voices and the stench of blood had grown stronger and stronger, but once again, it hadn't escalated to this point.

And even on the second night he had spent here, when he was wounded and had to pass the night in his sanctuary trying out a bunch of things, he hadn't had this problem either.

So what was it? What had drawn them here?

He couldn't leave this question unanswered, because if he didn't figure out what had driven these creatures to attack him tonight, he would never know peace again.

He would have to be on guard constantly, at the mercy of sudden attacks from creatures that weren't even his fellows captives or jailers.

As if having to watch my back and stay on guard because of those masked bastards wasn't enough already... he couldn't help thinking with frustration.

Gritting his teeth, he began pacing back and forth, keeping the ceiling in view as he thought...

While he was alone with his thoughts, Gil heard Greg's voice.

Looking around, thinking they had come back, he realized Greg was speaking through their link.

« Is everything all right on your end, Gil? »Greg asked.

<<I am fine and on your side?>>

« Everything's fine, but it would be better if you could tell us what we were supposed to be watching out for in the first place, » Orphée chimed in, his voice half-joking, half-serious.

Hugo spoke up as well: « Yeah. What happened, Gil? I... I felt something—a chill running up my spine when you started acting weird, but I didn't see anything, » he said in a serious tone.

Apparently, he had felt the danger even if he couldn't see it.

That reassured Gil a little. Kuro remained silent, but he could sense through the mental link that she was listening intently to whatever he was going to say next.

However, Gil sighed and stayed quiet for a moment. That means even when those things show up here, they still can't see them.

Why me, specifically? he couldn't help muttering to himself. Is it because I'm the only one who can see them?

Though I doubt pretending not to notice them would change a damn thing. No... I must have done something. Something that drew them to me twice in a row. Once in the arena, and once right now.

Suddenly remembering something, Gil froze dead in his tracks.

He recalled what that deceitful shade had told him.

Something about him had attracted them.

And more specifically... as all these thoughts became clearer and clearer, he realized that the moment they were drawn to him—the moment they sensed that thing—was when he had unconsciously used the shards for the first time to kill Lucius's beast in the arena.

So it's the use of my abilities that draws them in ?

Gil then told himself no.

If that were the case, they would have attacked me the night I used my sight—and I didn't even have a way to defend myself back then. If they had attacked me...

A chill ran down his spine, but then he calmed himself down.

« Gil! »

« Not now, Guys. Give me a second, I'm thinking. »

Setting everything else aside, he continued his train of thought.

If it isn't specifically the use of one of my abilities that draws them, then there's only one thing left.

Gil thought, looking at the chains extending from his arm to the others. They glinted softly under his Sight, slowly but continuously drawing trickles and threads of energy to maintain the network binding them together.

Could it be this energy? Gil couldn't help speculating.

Catching hold of this thread of thought, Gil re-established the connection and asked Hugo in an urgent voice: « Hugo, tell me—among those on the Way of the Anima, does using their abilities draw strange or ghostly creatures? »

Hugo, initially caught off guard, replied: « Uh... I don't know. That kind of stuff isn't really my field, so I couldn't really tell you. »

Despite not getting a direct confirmation, Gil became more and more convinced that he was on the right track—that this was the answer.

And as if to prove him right, while the others kept using the network to talk and guess what was wrong on his end...

drip, drip, drip.

Droplets fell once again, but this time directly in front of Gil. Since the others were still inside one of the sleeping quarters, they couldn't be directly ruled out as the source of what was happening.

And the fact that a new puddle seemed to be forming right here, right now, was the final confirmation he needed.

« Dammit! » he couldn't help but curse.