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Chapter Text

This was it. Prota and his friends’ journey was finally coming to an end. The party stood on a giant sundial, which served as the roof of a tall tower made of gears that rose up from the ocean. Tumultuous waves and jagged rocks threatened to catch them if they fell. Prota stood there, holding onto his orange bandana as his black hair blew fervently in the harsh winds. He looked to the center of the sundial, where a man with long white hair and a black cape stood. This was Anta: the man they’d been searching for all this time, the one who started this catastrophe. All the endless pain and suffering and starvation… was because of him.

Prota felt his blood boil as he looked at the mysterious stranger. He knew the second he showed up that this was the man they were looking for. But beneath the fury, there was something else, something Prota couldn’t quite place. He felt a pull towards this man, and something told him it wasn’t just the wind.

“Is this him?” Tiki asked, as she looked at her friend and leader. The wind caused a few strands of blonde hair to escape from her ponytails and tickle her bronze face. “The cause of immortality?”

Prota nodded solemnly. His brown eyes stayed locked onto his enemy. “That’s him, alright.”

“What do you suggest?” Krain asked, as his black boots sidestepped over to his teammates, trying not to trip as his ragged olive green cloak pushed against him. The long tendrils of his headband followed the gusts and flew in waves towards the opponent. Shaggy dark brown hair partially covered Krain’s olive eyes and skin as he glanced from friend to foe.

“What else?” Prota asked, knowing his friends knew the drill. “We do what we always do. We fight.”

Before he had even finished that thought, Tiki had pulled out her tonfa blades, and Krain pulled his massive sword from the holster on his back.

“Hmph,” Anta scoffed. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’ve achieved humanity’s greatest dream.”

“As if!” Prota roared, as he unsheathed his holy sword and ran towards the man with all his might. He swung violently. The man dodged blow after blow. Prota kept missing by a fraction of an inch. “You’re…” Prota spoke between swings, “just prolonging people’s suffering!” The man ducked as the boy went for his neck. “What kind of dream is that?”

“Suffering is better than death,” Anta claimed. Strands of silken white hair were severed by the sharp sword as he continued to evade.

“Is it?” Prota got tired of all this dodging. He wanted the man to fight. “Even if it’s causing pain to those who could live full lives?”

Anta elbowed the boy and effortlessly sent him flying.

Prota fell to the hard ground with a thud. He picked himself up, doing his best to ignore the pain. He knew the others were suffering way more than he ever has. “The people of Respiria,” he said, as he got back onto his feet, “have to live with terminal illnesses. Their bodies rot as their loved ones watch. Those who have been horribly injured in accidents,” he slowly stepped forward, dragging the sword on the ground with a hair-raising screech, “those who were crushed or decapitated,” tears filled his eyes, “have to live on with this agony!” He looked up at the villain, with fire in his eyes. “Do you understand this?!” Prota’s voice cracked and grew hoarse. “Have you any idea what you have caused?!”

Anta stood there, callously unaffected by the boy’s words.

Krain put a hand on Prota’s shoulder to calm him down. “Cool it, kid,” he said, snapping the boy out of his blind rage. “A little bit of anger is good, but too much and we can’t think straight. We want to get out of this in one piece… without becoming one of them.”

The Lost was what they called them: The people who are too far gone to be called alive, but aren’t really dead. The ones who can feel everything, even though they’re living corpses.

Tiki ran in, not unlike Prota. But her moves were agile and skilled. She was particularly light-footed and could jump to great heights. She managed to confuse Anta by somersaulting over his head and slashing at his shoulder blade ever so slightly.

Prota flinched.

“How did you do it?” Krain asked, while swinging his sword widely. “How did you manage to stop death?”

His heavy sword was too slow for their enemy. The man dodged with ease, leaving the sword to crash into the stone, sending chunks flying.

“It’s a machine, isn’t it?” Prota asked while inadvertently rubbing his shoulder. He had his own magic-imbued gadgets to use against this guy, but he suddenly felt hesitant.

“Indeed,” Anta replied, as he continued dodging Tiki and Krain’s attacks. The girl’s fast moves were proving to be a little challenging. “I created a powerful magical mechanism that will keep people from dying, as long as I’m around to keep it running. And as long as it’s running, I’ll be alive to keep it that way.”

Tiki attacked relentlessly, not letting up no matter how much Anta evaded. She tried from every angle. The man didn’t even have a sword, but she knew he must have some magic up his sleeve. 

Krain swung at Anta from behind, giving Tiki an opening. But when Prota saw that she was about to get a hit in…

“TIKI, STOP!” Prota roared in panic. He had a bad feeling…

Tiki gaped at him. “Are you crazy?!”

“I just,” Prota stuttered nervously, as he looked between friend and foe, “let’s regroup and come up with a plan. We’ll never beat him like this.”

Anta’s clear blue eye that wasn’t covered by his hair looked directly into Prota’s soul.

Prota found himself breathing heavily as his party members retreated with him and left the villain to his own devices. They watched as Anta knelt down and traced the letters in the center of the sundial. A passageway opened up and he stepped down into his tower, the top of the sundial closing above him.

Chapter Text

“What the hell?!” Tiki yelled, as she followed Prota back to the cliff-face they came from. She sped up and got in front of him. “What was that about? I had him!”

“I,” Prota stuttered, uncharacteristically, “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Something felt off. I want to make sure we think this thr…” His sentence was cut short as he felt a stabbing pain in his heart. His hand clenched his chest as he fell to his knees, trying his best to breathe through the pain.

“It’s happening again,” Tiki muttered. “Krain!”

“On it,” he said, handing Tiki the jug of healing water that they had obtained from the sacred spring.

“Here,” she said. Her aggressive demeanor was replaced with concern for her dear friend. She rubbed his back gently as he drank the water. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he lied.

“Let’s call it a day and set up camp,” the older man suggested. 

Prota nodded in agreement. His chest pains never truly subsided… At least, they hadn’t, prior to that encounter with Anta. When he was standing on that sundial, in front of that mysterious man, the pain he’d felt his entire life disappeared. His body had never felt so pain-free before. But once Anta went back down into his lair, Prota’s pain returned. At first, he thought it was just the heat of the moment, that his rage towards that man distracted him from his agony… But when he had cooled down and watched his friends battle, he noticed that the pain really wasn’t there.

Once they set up camp in the cave, Tiki went off to bathe in a crystal clear pond she had spotted on the way in.

“What’s up?” Krain asked, when he and Prota had a moment alone. “You aren’t usually nervous when we fight an enemy, especially not one you’ve been hyped for.”

“Um, it’s hard to explain but,” Prota began, trying to bring up the courage. 

“Take your time,” Krain said, his usual patient self. He clasped his rugged hands together, with his knees resting on his elbows, as he set his attention to his troubled friend.

“I,” Prota swallowed nervously, “feel something when I’m around that guy. “Like a,” Prota paused, as he tried to find the right word. “A pull. As if there’s a magnetic force drawing me to him.”

Krain was a little surprised. This definitely wasn’t what he had expected. But he was also relieved. “Ah,” he said calmly. A smile spread on his chiseled, stubbled face. “It sounds like you’re attracted to him.”

“No, I don’t think,” Prota was flustered for a moment as Krain gave him a knowing look, but then he looked down to the cave floor, with his hands in fists on his lap. “Actually, I’m not sure. You could be right.” He felt his face get hot, and he could tell it wasn’t just from the campfire. Was it just sexual attraction? He’s felt that way for women before… for Tiki… But it felt different than this. Was it possible for a crush to make his chronic pain disappear like that? And when Tiki cut Anta’s shoulder…

“Look, Prota,” Krain’s heavy hand landed on Prota’s shoulder, bringing him back to reality. “I understand that you must be feeling confused right now. You weren’t expecting the enemy to make you question your sexuality. Granted, it wasn’t the most convenient time for you to make this discovery about yourself,” Krain said with a shrug, “but I just want you to know… It’s okay,” he said with a gentle smile. “Tiki and I are your friends. We aren’t going to judge you for that. I especially can’t,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d been with my fair share of guys before I met Maria.” As he laughed, his white teeth showed against his tan skin. 

Prota got even redder, which made Krain crack up with laughter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Krain said as he took his hand away to give the boy some space. “All I’m saying is, it’s okay to think the guy’s hot, but don’t let that cloud your judgement, alright? We have a job to do. I know you know that, but if you feel like your feelings are making it hard for you to get the job done, talk to us about it… ‘Kay?”

“Yeah,” Prota said, as he smiled at his friend. Krain meant well, but as Prota felt the pain in his heart flaring up once again, he couldn’t help but feel like there was more to this than met the eye. His mind was more than willing to kill Anta to save the world… but his heart seemed to disagree.

Chapter Text

Prota took off his burnt-sienna leather vest. In his cream colored cotton shirt, he nestled into his makeshift sleeping bag. He took a moment to recollect himself by looking at the familiar bandages on his right arm.

He didn’t know where he came from. He had no memories earlier than a few years prior to setting out on his journey. He estimated that he was in his early to mid twenties, but in truth, he had no clue when or where he was born. The earliest thing he could remember was waking up in the rain, in the middle of the muddy streets of the seaside village. The townspeople found him, took him in, and treated him like one of their own.

They got a lot of vagrants in that town. It wasn’t unusual in this day and age. Nowhere had enough space to house everyone. Thus, many people came and went from town to town in search of a place to call home. The townspeople figured he was another product of these troubled times, simply trying to find his way.

But there was one thing about Prota that was unquestionably weird… something that didn’t sit right with him. Running up his right forearm… was a zipper. It didn’t have a tab to slide it open with, but no matter how one looked at it, it was undoubtedly a metal zipper embedded in his arm.

At first, the old woman who found him sent him to a doctor to figure out this abnormality, but unsurprisingly, the doctor didn’t have the slightest clue what it was. Not wanting to be invasive, the doctor declined operating on it, out of fear that it might be vital to Prota’s wellbeing, perhaps from a previous medical operation. Thus, after that, Prota settled for keeping it covered at all times, hoping to keep the unsettling feelings that it caused at bay.

He laid his arm over his ribcage and looked up at the cave ceiling. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce. He needed to think ahead and figure out how to deal with their enemy.

Prota was an inventor who fused magic with machinery. This meant that he had an arsenal of numerous weapons, gadgets with a variety of magical capabilities. He determined that the holy sword, which had previously been incredibly useful, wasn’t the best match for this opponent. He decided he would take a different approach and focus on magic abilities that inhibit the opponent. He collected his paralysis gun, electric drone, and time-slowing watch. Since he wasn’t fast enough, he deduced that his best bet would be to stand back and let his drones fly in and slow down his target, by stunning him or freezing time, while his friends continued to attack.

He was up all night thinking about the strange phenomenon that he experienced when Tiki attacked Anta’s shoulder. It could’ve been a fluke. Prota could’ve just had a sudden pain in his shoulder at the same time that Anta was hit. …But he didn’t want to take any chances. If Anta put some sort of enchantment on him, which seemed highly likely, after taking into consideration the “attraction” that he mentioned to Krain the night before, this meant that any attacks done to Anta could also affect Prota. So, Prota would come prepared by setting up a continuous healing spell. He would have to be strong and take the hits, but at least the spell would heal him each time.

As they prepared to leave the cave once more, Tiki approached Prota. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Prota said.

“Your heart…”

“It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m used to it. It’s as normal as breathing for me. Not like it can kill me.”

“But it can hurt you,” Tiki reminded him. “If it makes you incapacitated like that during…”

“It won’t,” he said, with certainty. “Actually, there’s something I haven’t told you. It might’ve been a coincidence, but… When we were up on the sundial, I… My heart wasn’t hurting.”

Tiki’s turquoise eyes grew wide.

“It always hurts,” he continued. “Not always as bad as yesterday… Sometimes it’s just a dull ache or a subtle throb, but… it always hurts. Even now. But on the sundial, for a moment, I was free.”

“Prota…”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Prota concluded. “Maybe, if we stop that man, I’ll finally… finally be free of this constant pain.”

Tiki looked into his brown eyes. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.

He basked in her warmth for a moment, but he knew it was too early to relax. His heart reminded him of that every moment. It reminded him that his pain was nothing compared to all the people out there, back home, and through all the places they’ve traveled… All those people, who were suffering unimaginable horrors. Those who bled to death but are still alive… those with excruciating, untreatable ailments… They’re doing this for them. So that they can finally rest in peace and move on from this awful world.

“We got this!” Tiki said, encouragingly, as she held him at arm’s length and gripped his shoulders tightly. “That bastard is going down!”

“Yeah,” Prota nodded, confidently.

“From the sound of it,” Krain chimed in, sword on his back, “his anti-death machine should be inside the gear tower. So all we have to do is beat him up, get in there, and destroy the thing!”

“Yeah!” Tiki cheered. “Piece of cake!”

A weird mix of emotions swirled around within Prota. This whole time, he had one goal: to bring death back to the world. He still wanted this for all of The Lost, but… He thought he had wanted it for himself as well. But now, after having felt a moment without pain, life felt a little more worth living. He wondered what it would be like to rest in Tiki’s arms when all of this was over, without this nagging pain in his heart.

Chapter Text

Here they were once again, caught in the midst of battle with this mysterious man who goes by Anta. He admitted to being the one who caused this calamity called immortality, and he didn’t seem to mind that he was tormenting the whole world in a living Hell.

Anta battled like he was dancing, easily evading with twirls and sidesteps. His black cape and long white braid flowed behind him. He didn’t seem to think anything was a threat. And in a world where no one can die, that was an understandable mindset. 

But this wasn’t about killing Anta. This was about destroying his machine. So as long as they could somehow get down there and get to the device, victory was theirs.

Anta began fighting back, even though it didn’t seem necessary. He shot balls of light at Prota’s party as he dodged.

Prota followed his plan. He froze Anta, for the few seconds that his invention would allow, which enabled his friends to get a couple hits on him.

Prota did his best to not cry out in pain. His assumption was right. Any attacks against Anta hurt him. Thankfully, they seemed to be hurting Anta as well. And Prota’s automatic healing spell made him feel better in a jiffy. He was thankful that his friends were too busy fighting to notice their attacks being inflicted on him. They might feel bad and stop attacking if they knew. Besides, Prota still found this charm or whatever it was rather eerie. He’d never had a sorcerer cast this kind of spell on him before, not one that made him feel his pain, and especially not one that made him want to get close to him.

That was another reason for Prota’s tactic of using his gadgets to stall Anta from afar. If this guy wanted Prota to get close to him, that must mean he had a trick up his sleeve. Maybe he had some sort of bomb set to detonate when he came within 5 feet of him. Prota couldn’t take that chance.

The battle continued, with Prota bravely toughing it out. But eventually, it became too much for him. Tiki saw that something was hurting him. She turned around, concerned for her beloved friend.

And that’s when it happened.

A beam of light shot straight through Tiki’s chest. Her turquoise eyes opened wide as she realized she got hit by Anta’s magic. Prota looked on in horror… A horror that grew as he watched his friend dissipate into little particles of light. She was disappearing. Disintegrating. Dying.

It wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t have been. But no matter how immortal they were, Prota couldn’t convince himself that anyone could survive being dispersed into trillions of tiny particles.

Krain looked on, horrified, as the golden particles faded into nothingness.

Prota and Krain stood there, defeated.

Anta looked proud. 

Prota was beyond furious. He gripped his sword and ran in roaring. “YOU BASTARD!!” He jumped up into the sky and slammed his sword down at his enemy.

But as usual, Anta dodged with ease. His hand gracefully showed itself from beneath his cloak, and he just barely touched Prota. A shockwave of magic sent the boy flying, all the way to the edge of the disk.

Krain’s efforts were equally useless, as he was quickly laid flat on his back.

Anta looked down at them and scoffed. He turned his back on them, deeming them too weak to be a threat. He once again kneeled down and traced the sigils in the center of the stone. Before Prota could find the strength to rise again, Anta was gone.