The Last Primal

"You don't need to worry. They are all fine. Both Aiden and Lily… and them." She gave a slight push in her tone at the end of her sentence. Added with the smug smile she was giving to her, Number 3 looked at her for a moment longer before slowly closing her eyes as she nodded whilst releasing a sigh.

"So you knew?" Without averting her attention from the slowly dissipating scene in the distance, she asked with a weak tone. "When did you realize?"

The old lady stepped to her right side, following her gaze. Her eyes however retained their calm, even her smug smile eased up, into a kinder, gentler one as she continued to look at the dark red field.

"Ever since you gave that talisman to Lily." Granny responded as she glanced at the masked mature woman at her side for a moment before returning her focus to the calming storm in the distance. "Considering you know some of my history, you shouldn't be too surprised. Even though you humans have your secrets, you are known about your tendency to show off, after all."

Number 3 didn't comment on her words any further. She merely released a soft sigh, before returning her gaze at the scenery quite a distance from the city. Still, her tightly clenched hands betrayed her feelings once more.

—

At the upper regions of the city, at the top of the tallest tower inside the Academy Grounds a pudgy figure, wearing an ornate, golden-threaded purple robe, jumped up as the passing shockwave shook his office.

The glass wall at the side vibrated as it had to withstood the passing surge of energy. A huge pile of the stacked, rolled-up sheets of the paper pyramid wasn't as sturdy as the glass frame. The small paper mountain crumbled as the energy passed through it, rolling down from the desk, all over the floor.

The huge, pudgy figure jumped up from her chair in fright as he felt a shiver pass his body.

"W-what is g-going on?!" He cried out with a startled tone. Rushing towards the transparent window wall, only to gasp as he saw the emerging dark, oddly shaped cloud in the far distance.

"What is that?!" He asked, albeit there was no answer. After all, he was alone in the room, nobody could listen to his words or commands.

A couple of seconds later however, his shock turned into annoyance, slowly transcending into a helpless, angering emotion. He was annoyed. In recent days nothing was going how he wanted to. His trusted aide, the man that he managed to plant into the highest ranks in the local Adventurer's Guild after so much pain and effort suddenly vanished without a trace.

After he was sent to grab a helpless pair of an elderly cripple and her halfling adopted granddaughter, he vanished without a word. The weirdest in the whole situation was that when he sent some guys to investigate the scene, there were no signs of struggle in the wooden hut.

All the signs were pointing that the men and his trained team, that he groomed with painstaking time and effort betrayed him and escaped. This while infuriated him and hurt his ego, also caused him to be confused. Why would they run away? He treated them exceptionally well, giving them everything they needed as long as they completed their assignments.

Many of that team were already implanted in key positions, which would have been very beneficial in the upcoming war games. Now, all of these plans have gone to the drain, he had to come up with some new measures.

That's when he contacted one of the local leaders of the local gangs he had under his control, and have given him a task to contact that eerie group of monsters. Luckily he was just informed this morning that the assignment was completed successfully and that he was given an audience…

Still, there was a strange feeling inside his heart… Something he couldn't understand, but it kept him unsettled. It continued to keep him on edge.

"Haaah… A storm is coming…" He sighed, his eyes were fixated on the distant scenery.

—

Somewhere unknown

In a dark chamber, with only a couple of braziers hanging from sides providing only a faint light, a dark-robed humanoid-shaped figure sat atop a throne made of what looked like a grand collection of bones.

Even more, the only uncovered part of the figure, its skeletal hands were resting on a pair of small skulls. The figure sat motionless as if it was a lifeless statue rather than a being that was still animated.

Its chamber had no entrances, no holes, no windows. A tight, airless, underground prison, that kept this unfathomable existence locked away for all eternity.

However, this tranquil serenity was put to an abrupt pause, when suddenly the shadow at the far right corner started to unnaturally twist, only for a silhouette to appear in the next moment.

Matching the robed figure situated atop its throne, this figure also wore a matching dark brown-like aged gown. This one however had a huge scythe in his right, black leather gloved hand.

A pair of vermilion dots glowed eerily from under the robe, a chaotic torment, deathly cold air surged around its body continuously as it slowly shuffled in front of the resting statuesque skeletal figure.

As it arrived at the designated spot, it bent his legs and knelt down in front of the leader-like figure. His hooded head was plastered on the dirty ground.

There were no words spoken, no voices heard for over a minute, however, it steadily kept its subservient posture.

Eventually, a cold, emotionless tone of voice could be heard ringing in the small closed chamber.

"Number 0, my right hand. What is it that caught your attention?" The unnatural voice asked. Its supposed owner, the situated leader had no motion, from an outside view it was impossible to tell if it was truly the one that had just released that thunderous, unnatural crackle or it had came from somewhere else.

Still, the kneeling figure showed no signs of surprise, it was as if it was already accustomed to such a scene.

"Yes, Master." It answered with a matching coldness. Just like the leader, this figure also had no vibrations in its tone, it was insipid, devoid of any of the emotions of the living.

"It's starting." The strange sourceless voice thundered again, his volume trailing at the end as if its owner was in deep thought.

The kneeling figure didn't respond, it waited for the voice to continue patiently.

Silence ensued in the small underground chamber once again. Minutes passed before the same voice crackled again.

"It's fine. You can go but stay in the background. He is protected by the other one. Besides, if needed we still have the forsaken one close to him."

"As you command, Master." The kneeling figure responded to the (un)holy command and stood up. Before turning around, however, it remembered something and asked out once more. This time, his cold tone had a slight taint of a strange mixture of emotions under it. Still, the most dominant trait was the reverence towards this somber skeletal statue.

"What should we do with the candidate? After all, he is still planning to-"

"Ignore him. There is no need to contact him. His current mission is still ongoing. If he can't finish by himself, he is worthless to us and will be discarded."

"Understood, Master." The scythe-wielding figure gave a slight bow at the leader, before turning towards the same, dark corner as before, and walking towards it. As the darkness wrapped itself around its silhouette once more, the figure soundlessly vanished from the room a moment later.

The situated figure remained motionless, as the figure, the Primary Executor of Its indomitable will left, the dark, underground chamber returned to its tranquil, silent state.

—

The stench of blood permeated the silent battlefield. As the cloud slowly began to fade, and dissipate into the air, the incomplete dead bodies scattered everywhere could be seen in the ominous battlefield, bathed with the color of dark red.

A few seconds later, amidst the mutilated monster carcasses, the small movement could be made out. One by one, Drake's group slowly sat up, coughing and spitting out the grime, blood, and gore that filled their nostrils and mouths.

Slowly they stood up, pushing away the mountains of bodies off of from them. They all involuntarily shivered as their eyes scanned across the carnage that just happened.

Seared, charred, and burnt bodies of the fish-men covered the field for probably several miles around them. Torn limbs, spilled intestines… the smell, the stench was unbearable, almost vomit-inducing. Not just Drake, Scarlet, and Lily, but even the dogs, Sam and Biggy were trying to cover their noses.

Still, as their attention turned towards the direction of where this uncanny disaster came from, their flinching, sour gazes turned into a look of worry and dread.

They could see no silhouette standing, waiting in the still thick smoke…