Author's Notes: First time writing a one-shot, so comments are very welcomed. Forgive me if it went a little bit OOC.
I do not own Digital Devil Saga.
The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed behind me, constantly reminding me of my impending doom. I didn't even need to turn around; I knew who -- or what it was.
- - -
For most of my adult life, I had known him. When I first participated in the activities of the Lokapala, I had always admired him. Under his leadership, the Lokapala had kept their loss to a minimal, during their rebellion against the Karma Society. The members had always looked up on him for orders; they trusted him. They didn't know what to do without him. He had a very energetic son; one that runs up and down in their underground headquarters, bringing joy and life to the residents.
All of these seemed to disappear when he was gone.
I didn't know what went wrong that night. Greg's plan seemed flawless, and he had always told us that we cannot afford any mistakes. The infiltration route to the Karma City was perfect. But when we appeared out from our route, there they are, a horde of demons, ready to devour food that came into their territory. It would seem that they have been expecting us.
What happened afterwards was beyond my imagination, or what I thought was, up until then. I never saw such massacre before. Greg and I were the last of the survivors. We faced a small army of monsters. He had sacrificed himself for me to escape. He had saved my life. All I ever did was run back to the headquarters, told them to defend the underground city. And what happened to the assault team.
After being proclaimed as the new leader of the Lokapala, Ididn't pay any attention to my job.I wasted a few years after my best friend's death in alcohol. Greg's son had grown since then, and had seemed to dislike me all the more everyday. I always thought that his son had the right to get angry at me. I, after all, caused the death of his beloved father.
Just a week ago, though, the Lokapala found a weirdly-accented and weirdly-dressed man – boy, to be precise – in the abandoned streets beyond the town. We also found a data disk from one of our spies in the Society. What I saw and read from the disk changed my life.
We kept the odd-boy confined in a room as a hostage, highly suspecting him to be a member of the Society. Fred, Greg's son, had ignored all of our orders that ask him to stay away from him. Through Fred's help, though, we found out more about that boy. He seemed to be one of those AI's that the data disk mentioned about.
His name was Cielo. His cheery attitude had brought smiles to Fred and his friends, whom visited him everyday, chit-chatting away as if they were old friends. I.. envied them. Cielo had always mentioned about his comrades, and how much fun he had with them; but suddenly, one day, he requested Fred and his friends to look for his lost comrades.
We tried to stop Fred and his friend. But they were long gone before we could ground them. When we thought all hopes were lost, though, Fred had returned. Safe and sound, along with his friend, and three new faces. They were oddly-dressed, just like Cielo. At one glance, I knew that they were Cielo's lost comrades. My initial idea was to use Cielo as hostage to force them to destroy the Society for us. I bent the information I've gotten from the disk to my advantage. I told them that I wanted the Cyber Shaman.
Their strategist struck back at me.
It was quite unexpected. I, a human, was being beaten verbally by an aritifical intelligence. I couldn't do anything but watch them go. Fred was angry that I experimented the virus on one of us. I felt as if I have just went back a few years behind, back to my frail self, back to when I couldn't do anything. It seemed the same, right now. As if I have never learnt anything for the past few years. Never changed.
Furious, I suddenly remembered what Greg had once told me. "If you do not want someone to doubt you, then spare them the benefit of doubt, first." On those words, I risked myself, and injected the virus into myself. It hurt, but it wasn't as painful as what agony I endured in the past.
I chased after Cielo's comrades, dragging the Jamaican-accented boy with me. Fred had seemed to have changed his view of me. I wished he didn't. I had offered my assistance to them. The Lokapala members followed me and Fred, and styled part of their outfit in orange – the Embryon Tribe's color.
- -
And now, all that seemed to be a distant past. Behind me, the great monster inches ever slowly towards me. The walkie-talkie, on the floor, was long forgotten. Fred's desperate cries can be heard from the bloodied tool, as well as others. I will do what Greg had done; save my new comrades, and not let me slow them down. This is the most I can do to redempt myself.
".. It's just my turn this time.. Right, Greg?"
END