A room surrounded by walls covered with cryptical paintings. The eerie atmosphere made the air feel heavy.
The beacons lit in the four corners of the room were the only source of light.
It was a place aptly described as âout of this worldâ.
ââŚshut up. You know Iâm using âHeart Scanâ right now. Any noise will disrupt the memories.â
The words came from a man wearing sunglasses, who was holding his right palm over the painted wall. His curt reply was directed at a man wearing a dark green uniform.
âYou say that every time, but how long is this going to take!? You arenât making fools out of us, are you!?â
A month had already passed since they arrived at the ruins. The initial plan was to stay about one week, but maybe because of their lack of ability, or because of unexpected obstacles, their stay was extended longer and longer. They had brought only one weekâs worth of supplies too, so they were forced to procure food and drink on site.
A situation that made the man in the uniform feel restless.
Concerned that they might attract outside interference.
ââŚancient relics canât be figured out so easily.â
No one knew how the man in sunglasses truly felt. But his words were brimming with cold anger.
ââŚone more week. We canât wait any longer.â
The man in uniform stated his ultimatum and turned around to leave.
âHow unusual.â
A voice echoed in the room.
ââŚwhat?â
âHow unusual, I said. The all-powerful, all-encompassing empireâŚseems to have rather timid men among its ranks.â
The man in uniform looked back over his shoulder.
The man with sunglasses seemed to be waiting for that. He was about to talk again, whenâ
âDonât.â
The man in uniform stopped him.
âYou were about to do your âHeart Scanâ on me, werenât you.â
ââŚ.maybe.â
âTch.â
The man in uniform seemed to want to say something else, but only clicked his tongue and left.
âPeople like that just donât get itâŚâ
âwhat a pain.
After the man mumbled this to himself, all stiffness left his expression and he turned again towards the wall painting.
The manâs name was Cohen Socaccio.
Self-proclaimed archeologist, he was also a âHeroâ better known by the name of his ability, âHeart Scanâ.
The man in uniform addressed him as âScannerâ, a nickname born from the same ability.
âAnger. Hate. Indignation. Resentment. Then â salvation and solitude.â
Cohen âHeart Scanâ Socaccio.
His ability was, literally, to scan or read hearts.
It could be used not only on living beings, however, but also on inanimate objects.
As soon as he placed a hand on the wall painting and performed âHeart Scanâ, a deluge of dark, oppressing negative feelings penetrated his head. In that mass of dark emotions, however, were also scattered cries for help.
Those faint cries, however, were immediately crushed by hate.
Destroyed without a trace.
ââŚthe worldâs rebirth.â
Cohen understood that there was a limit to the words he could extract and removed his hand from the wall painting. He retreated a couple steps.
He looked at the somewhat familiar monsters painted on the walls and whispered to himself.
âThose monsters areâŚthe same, arenât they.
Monster weapons that anyone close enough to the empireâs inner workings knew about.
Monsters like the ones painted on the wall, the result of human beings consuming certain substances. Cohen looked at the paintings and whispered in a flat tone.
Their bodies were being pierced by multiple sharp objects.
That was probably the source of the âresentmentâ he felt. The expressions of the painted monsters were twisted in pain.
âIt looks like they painted the extermination of those monstersâŚâ
There was a single painting of a swordsman.
As if it was fighting alone against the monsters.
âOne swordsman against those âthingsââŚlike a hero fighting against evil.â
Cohen then looked up at the ceiling.
The dimly lit room made it look like heavy, dark clouds covered the sky.
ââŚhistory repeats itself.â
Being an archaeologist, Cohenâs words held a particular weight. They felt real. He knew many instances of such repetitions.
âThat is the nature of the worldâŚits fate.â
If soâŚ
âIf we have given birth to those monsters, then we are on âthe side of evilââŚI suppose. HahaâŚhahaha.â
Cohen understood well how immoral those âthingsâ were. But it was too late. They couldnât shift back to the original âcourseâ anymore.
There was no turning back anymore. The die had been cast.
ââŚthese ruins are really exceptional.â
Cohen Socaccio was one of the greatest contributors to the rebirth of the mutated beings he called âmonstersâ. Needless to say, his ability to read memories, feelings and thoughts was the cause.
The ruins he was trying to read were so filled with dark emotions that it was hard to extract anything.
Corrupting, bewitching energy.
The ruins were filled with such unnatural energy, especially rich in resentful energy. Thus Cohen said they were exceptional.
Just like the object of such hateful emotions was right there.
Other than such feelings, there was little to no information to find. Even with âHeart Scanâ, to find one single piece of information from this mass was like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
âThere is something, however. I canât help but feeling like that, staying here.â
âThere definitely was.
Cohen did not say it out loud, but he was positive.
âI cannot turn my eyes away from this, or I canât call myself an archaeologist anymore. Even if it will turn into a storm or a hurricaneâŚâ
Cohen was fully focused on the wall paintings.
âHahaâŚhahahaâŚthis is so funâŚ!â
Cohenâs shoulders shook as he laughed.
âHistory is full of mysteriesâŚitâs exciting like nothing elseâŚ!â
Cohen calmly reached for his sunglasses. Slowly but surely, he took them off.
Cohenâs right eye had lost all light already.
A single sword slash ran down through the middle of his eye.
It was a wound and also a memory.
A wound he suffered in certain ruins.
âLet me knowâŚlet me hear. The soundsâŚthe voicesâŚof historyâŚ!â
Cohen spoke loudly.
His voice echoed throughout the room.
He pleaded to the mute walls and paintings.
âWho is that swordsman!? Who exterminated the âmonstersâ!? What happened in the past!? Tell me!! Speak to me â !!!â
He didnât stop.
Too many questions.
Overflowing curiosity.
âHa..haha!! Hahahahaha!!!â
For a long while, the room was filled with eerie laughter.