First time writing for Els... I wasn't very fond of this game until.. well now. Add came along... and he was interesting enough. I don't know much about this game and it doesn't have a reliable source like Grand Chase does... So I made some stuff up and interpreted. It's the first time writing Add... so I hope you forgive me if i made him too creepy.
I love reviews btw :3
He never cried. Not when they murdered his parents, not when they sold him into slavery. Not when he ran and not when he fell into the library. Never. He just laughed at it. Was that why they all said he was mad? He could do everything with his knowledge. Even going back in time. There was nothing that could stop him from that anyway. Who would? And Why would they? He only needed to return to the past and everything would take a different path. He could save his parents from getting murdered. He could do everything.
He couldn't remember his parents faces.
It was just a small thing, one that could be overlooked. Surely they would recognize him when they saw him. And his mind started spinning with countless of theories and possibilities of things going wrong. Everything could go wrong. But it wouldn't. Because he had calculated everything. Nothing would go wrong. Yet why where his hands shaking? He lacked sleep, that was probably why. He had sacrificed everything to make this possible, it wasn't strange that he was excited. Or was he scared?
Nothing would go wrong.
He scoffed at his own thoughts. And if he died he'd be released from this misery. So what was the big deal?
He didn't want to die.
His trembling hands dropped one of the dynamos he was working on. The small device fell to the floor, sizzling with electricity as it wasn't fully repaired yet. Why was he doing this anyway? What was he doing, and for what purpose? What would he gain from it?
Would he get his sanity back? Was that even possible?
A silent tirade of manic laughter escaped him at that. Nothing could save his sanity as it was long gone. He knew that. Would his parents accept that? If they recognized him. If they still cared about him. If they were alive.
He picked up the dynamo and placed it on the table. He had lost his sanity already. What was left to lose? He didn't have friends, and the people he traveled around with were mere tools for him to get closer to his goal. Even Eve. The Nasod was surely interesting and many secrets were still uncharted, but she girl would never reveal them to him. Why was she so selfish?
He slammed his fist onto the table, causing the dynamo and other devices to skip a bit. The laughing fit that followed could be heard outside, but there was no one present to hear it. He had always been alone. No one dared to come close to him after he escaped from the library. Humans were disgusting creatures, he didn't exclude himself from that.
But he just wanted to live. Like everyone else.
Curling his fingers around the still broken dynamo he kept laughing loudly. What was there for him? What had this world prepared for him? Was it really a life full of misery?
Aisha had asked questions, he never answered any of them. Raven threatened to punch him. Who cared about these humans? They would never understand him. They weren't like him. Nobody was, and nobody would ever understand him.
He could do it. Leave everything behind and never look back. This world hadn't done anything good for him, why would he want to stay? He had everything he needed, everything was prepared and calculated. Just this small repair and he could leave.
Grabbing a screwdriver he stared at the dynamo in front of him. These things truly were something different. And he had built them. He was a genius. Laughing at that he turned back to finish the repairs.
He could do everything and no one would stop him. Would they even try?
It seemed like Raven was suspecting something. He chuckled. So what? He'd be gone before any of them would even notice that he didn't show up. He didn't belong here, or with them.
The screwdriver slid off the dynamo, cutting the hand he was holding the device with. His chuckle turned into laughter again as he stood and wrapped a tissue over the wound. The moonlight was shining into the room, illuminating the clatter, the tools, the half finished devices. He should destroy everything before he left, so that no one could steal it.
But looking back he didn't want to destroy it. He had built most of it, countless hours of working, not sleeping and cursing the world for doing this to him. Should he tell the others? Tell them that he was about to leave? They would try to hold him back. He sat back down and continued the repairs. He would leave no matter what they said. But maybe it wasn't fair to leave without saying anything. They would look for him, forget about their mission.
He concluded that writing a letter would be more effective. That way he could leave without anyone noticing, and he could still inform them.
Placing the tools aside he pulled a crumpled paper out from under some devices he had built a while ago. What where they for? He couldn't remember. It didn't matter anyway. While he was hunting for a pen in this mess, he decided to clean up.
After everything was sorted he had found three pens, four pencils and twenty three and a half erasers. So many erasers, it made him laugh for a while. This just showed how much of a failure everything was.
What was he supposed to write? No matter how he started everything sounded as if he was going to kill himself. This wasn't right. He would leave this timeline, not his life. But what if something went wrong?
He shrugged at his own thoughts, ripped the paper to shreds and repaired his dynamo. After that was done he decided to talk to the others after all. The sun was rising again, he had worked the whole night and not accomplished anything.
It was pathetic.