Melmarc eyes shot open. He woke up gasping for air with a sharp pain in his eyes. He heaved, turned to the side, threw up. Then he threw up again.

Broken bones and torn flesh flashed in his mind. Crushed organs and terrible bleeding. Pain was a phantom in his mind. It demanded his attention.

He would be crippled for a while. With a shattered spine he would be unable to move. Brain fluids leaking from skull fractures, he would be a vegetable. A piece of his spine somehow making his way to stab through his neck, he would be unable to speak. Nothing would ever go through his throat again.

Propping himself up from the ground with his forearm, he threw up again. Vomit splashed all over his arm. It didn't matter. He didn't care. His throat was tight, constricted.

Everything hurt. He was crippled, paralyzed. Movement would be impossible for the rest of his life. It was nothing but luck that he wasn't dead. Nothing but…

He paused.

The first thing he took notice of was his forearm propped against the ground. He wasn't paralyzed.

It's the pain, he thought, only a moment before realizing that he actually wasn't in pain.

A tired groan slipped from his lips. He turned back and laid down on the ground. The air smelled of vomit.

His breathing still came heavy. His body still felt sore and broken even if it was. Phantoms of pain clawed at his mind trying to tell him that he was broken and paralyzed, nothing but a stain of something that had once been human on the floor.

Melmarc tried to push past it.

Pushing past it brought memories. What had brought him to this point. He felt nauseous. Bile rose to the back of his throat but didn't quite complete the trip to becoming vomit to be thrown up. It went back down. It was disgusting.

Still, the memories came rushing. First came fire, hot and scorching. Heat that boiled liquid, evaporated tears and shriveled the eyes. Then came panic. It was followed by a demand to crush someone's balls. Melmarc shook that desire from his mind, wincing at the idea. Then came the pain of being kicked in the groin. He'd been kicked in the groin.

He gagged.

'Become an amazing Delver, Mel,'

The words echoed in his mind, strong and hard. Final words.

"Ark!" Melmarc scrambled up, forcing himself to move.

All he'd done was turn while lying down. The movement was a little too fast, harsh on his already existing disorientation. Vertigo hit him like a freight train. His stomach complained, rebelled, revolted.

Its contents came up in anger.

Melmarc threw up again.

His breaths came fast now. He heaved like a man taking on a heavy strain while trying to move as fast as possible. It was like rowing a boat, but instead of going through water, he was going through concrete.

He struggled to get his breathing in order as his vision blurred and the world spun. He focused. He needed to…

He shook his head, banishing his confusion.

Ark.

"That's a lot of vomit," a voice called out. "I only had to throw up three times. You're on your fourth."

Melmarc focused on the voice. He knew it. It was one of the oldest voices he knew. A voice that had spent years stressing him while also reassuring him. A voice that had played pranks on him as a child.

He bit down on his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. He managed to get to a sitting position before faltering once. It took him a moment to realize that getting up would be a test of his mettle.

He was no longer in pain. But the phantom of it hovered there, rested on his shoulder like weights. Like reliving a trauma.

Melmarc forced himself to stay seated while propping himself up with one hand firmly on the ground.

He waited there, just like that.

"It will probably take a while," the voice told him.

Nodding absently, he didn't look at the owner. Instead, he paid attention to the ground. It was sandy. Packed dirt. Hardened but natural.

Would've been worse if it was a tarred road.

Pain continued to claw at his mind, at least the sensation of it. As if it was unsatisfied with being nothing more than a phantom, a whisper of itself. It wanted to be real. It wanted to be felt. It wanted him to feel it.

Melmarc refused it, forced it to hover at the corner. Even the phantom pain of a collapsed lung with too many ribs running through it was disorienting enough.

"Why?" Melmarc found himself asking.

"Well… it was quite a fall."

Melmarc frowned, his mind focusing on the faux nonchalance in the voice. It angered him and saddened him at the same time. Tears welled in his eyes once more. It was enough to push through the disorientation.

He forced himself to his feet and staggered once.

"Why?" His hand reached out and stabilized him as it rested on a wall. "Why?"

He didn't look at the wall. He didn't know if it belonged to a building or if it was a fence. He still hadn't looked at the owner of the voice.

"Definitely took me longer than this to finally get to my feet," the voice answered, intrigue coveting its tone. "That's very impressive."

Melmarc's sadness grew. So did his anger.

Become an amazing Delver, Mel.

The words haunted him. He took a step forward.

"Death answers nothing," he said, taking a step forward.

"Everybody dies, Mel."

Melmarc finally looked up. His gaze met the owner of the voice. He looked his only older brother in the eye. "You don't get to die."

Ark's smile was sad. "Everybody dies, Mel."

"Not us." Melmarc shook his head. "Not you! You heard Uncle Dorthna. We get to live forever."

Ark's smile didn't waver. "You don't want to live forever. You just don't want me to die."

"You…" Melmarc shook his head. "You don't get to die."

Ark nodded slowly. "And yet," he said. "Everybody dies."

Taking in a very deep breath, Melmarc looked down at the ground and braced himself for what he was about to do.

When he let the breath out, he looked up at Ark. "I'm going to fucking hit you now."

He pushed himself off the wall and dragged himself the remaining distance between and a standing Ark.

Ark had a cocky smile on his face now. He stood in tattered clothes that bared his torso and revealed a little too much of his legs.

Ark flinched as Melmarc threw a punch for his face. Melmarc stopped short, the feint successful, and punched Ark in the stomach.

Ark doubled over, falling on his knees.

"YOU!" Melmarc roared at him. "DON'T GET TO DIE!"

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He demanded it, declared it.

He willed it.

[Increase in Optimum Existence detected.]

[Optimum Existence 33.26% > 39.00%]

[Optimum Existence is now 39.00%]

Melmarc couldn't bring himself to care about the notification. His eyes remained fixed on his brother, sharp and angry.

"I hate you," he muttered.

Ark nodded as if he understood, picking himself back up.

"I know, baby brother," he said, raising a hand riddled with burn marks. "I know."

Melmarc took the hand carefully and helped Ark up.

Ark looked down at him even thought the difference in height wasn't enough to warrant it.

"I won't die," Ark told him. "Not anytime soon, at least."

Melmarc watched him, searched for the lie in his eyes. He sensed no dissonance, but he had learnt that there were times when it didn't pick out the lies. He wasn't entirely sure why it happened, but there had been people. With Uncle Dorthna, he just attributed it to how powerful he was.

As for Ark, there were moments. Sometimes those moments had something to do with him joking. It hadn't worked on Ariadne perfectly, though. He knew the trait wasn't about lies. It was about dissonance. Maybe it didn't work well on only liars that were really good at it.

That Ark never lied to him didn't mean that Ark wasn't good at lying, though.

Melmarc held his gaze. "Promise," he demanded.

Ark cocked a surprised brow. "You want me to promise to always defy death?" he asked. "That's kind of taking it a little too far, don't you think?"

Melmarc reached out to grab him by his shirt but stopped short. There was barely anything left to grab him by.

His hands hovered in front of his brother. "I am an [August Intruder], and you are a [Demon King]. Defying everything is what we are doomed to do. Promise."

Ark took a deep breath like an adult dealing with the unreasonable demands of a child. "Alright," he said at last. "I promise."

There was no dissonance, so Melmarc looked into his eyes, searched for the lie. He was being a child right now, petulant. But he didn't care. When your brother tried to kill himself in front of you for whatever reason, you did what you could to keep him alive. How you did it did not matter.

Seeing no lie, he dropped the subject.

The sudden release of tension hit him. He felt the vertigo again and he put his hand on the wall to stabilize himself.

Ark didn't move to grab him or help. He stood there and watched.

"You good?" he asked.

Melmarc shook his head. "Not really." When he had regained a modicum of order, he asked, "How long was I out?"

"No idea," his brother answered, looking around. "I was out for a while too, but it's been roughly thirty-two minutes since I woke up."

"How do you know that?" Melmarc asked.

Ark slipped his hand into the remnant of his pants' pocket and brought out his phone. It was unharmed, in perfect condition.

Melmarc gave it a very surprised look.

"I checked the time," Ark answered, laughing when he saw Melmarc's expression. "You gotta love Uncle D's enchantments, don't you." He patted the pocket. "Kept the entire pocket safe. My wallet too."

Melmarc's hand moved to where his pocket was supposed to be. He felt the bulge of his phone there. The pocket was intact.

He sighed. "What now?"

Melmarc finally took some time to look around. They were stuck between two buildings, landing perfectly in the alley between them. It was a wonder they hadn't fallen into the building.

"Have you ever tried spitting a gum between two bars to just get rid of it?" Ark asked, reading his expression.

Melmarc nodded. "What about it?"

"Ever notice how the space between both bars can be real wide and you aim for it, then boom, you somehow still hit the bar?"

Melmarc thought about it. That was a thing he experienced often. He nodded.

Ark gestured at both buildings. "I'd like to think of this like that. The universe threw us and missed. Imagine how much explaining we would've had to do if we'd gone through any of these houses."

As interesting as that was, Melmarc was more concerned with a different subject.

"How are you so calm about this?" he asked. "You almost died."

Ark shrugged. "I had a thirty-minute head start on you. I've already had my crash out."

Dissonant.

"You really aren't bothered about almost dying," Melmarc challenged.

Ark sighed. "That thing you do can be annoying sometimes. You know its harder to console and comfort a person when they can tell that you're lying, right?"

"Ark," Melmarc chided.

"Oh, get off your high horse," Ark snapped. "You aren't bothered either."

"I'm livid!"

"No!"

Ark's words cut through everything like an overly sharpened sword. The silence that fell was heavy, and he took a calming breath.

"You," he said, after a while, "are not bothered. You are livid that I almost died, terrified even. But you almost died, Mel." Anger was bright in his eyes now. "You almost die, and you have the audacity to lecture me about not caring that I almost died when you haven't even batted an eye at the fact that you threw yourself off a plane and almost died. You haven't even cracked a worried expression about it."

Melmarc paused.

It was true.

"I get it, Mel," Ark continued. "I really do. But I almost died for a reason. I accepted my fate on the way down. You threw yourself off when you could've stayed there and survived. There is a thin line between bravery and stupidity brother. Some would argue that they are the same thing. Two of us going off the plane when only one of us sufficed was stupidity, not bravery."

Melmarc said nothing. If he removed emotions from it and looked at it from only a logical point of view, it made sense. Ark had chosen to sacrifice himself because it was either one person dies or the both of them die.

But Ark could not expect him to remove emotions from the equation. Even his insane Oath quirks had not expected it of him. They had all been in agreement of it. He could still remember it. An understanding. A single command.

Jump.

He could've no sooner disobeyed it than he could will himself to stop breathing until death.

Ark placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention back to him.

"Don't get me wrong, Mel," he said with a smile. "I appreciate your stupidity. Sometimes stupidity is what matters. I'm happy you were stupid because of me. It says a lot when a smart person does something stupid because of you. But please let's do less stupid and more reasonable."

Melmarc didn't have to think about it before shaking his head. "Can't promise that."

Ark snorted in amusement. "Can't promise to protect yourself but you make me promise to defy death." He shook his head. "But Mel."

Melmarc looked down and away. "What?"

"You almost died. Think about that. Really think about it." Ark bent his head to look him in the eye. "You threw yourself off a plane, fell maybe thirty thousand feet down. Yet you haven't even thought about it. You did the same thing when you were negotiating with Uncle Dorthna. You made sure Ninra was taken care of, then you made sure that mom and dad were taken care of. You did nothing for your care. We're important, Mel. But so are you. You matter."

Melmarc took a calming breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ark asked.

Melmarc nodded. "Okay."

He had almost died. He'd thrown himself off a plane and had almost died. And all he'd been worried about was how Ark had almost died.

Wasn't it normal?

Didn't people fear the death of their loved ones more than their own death? Or was something wrong with him?

He shook his head. No. He was right. People feared the deaths of their loved ones over their own deaths. That was why parents died for their children. That was why Ark had sacrificed himself so willingly.

There was nothing wrong with him. What mattered if he died protecting those he loved?

Everybody dies.

What was important was that those who mattered did not. For his family, he was expendable.

[New feat detected!]

[Dear August Intruder, you have done that which nobody should. You looked certain death in the eye and did not flinch. Where you should've died, you have lived. You have come to understand that none is above death. Not even you. Yet you still choose to defy it. You have learnt to walk where death lives.]

[You have gained August Intruder skill Where Death Lives]

Death is the epitome of life. Everybody dies. The August Intruder gains a temporary increase in stats around the dying.

[Where Death Lives (Mastery 00.00%)]

Every nearby sentient being on the verge of death grants +0.5 to all stats.

Sapient beings on the verge of dying nearby grant +2 to all stats.

Conclusion of sentient life takes away stat increase.

Conclusion of Sapient life takes away stat increase.

Conclusion of sentient life grants 2% mastery increase to all skills for 00:02:00

Conclusion of Sapient life grants 6% mastery increase to all skills for 00:02:00

Melmarc stared at his interface, understanding what the notification meant.

"What was the guy's rank?" Ark asked suddenly.

"What?" Melmarc asked, only barely following the conversation.

"The [Pyromancer]."

"S," Melmarc answered, then his attention was back on the conversation. "What happened to him? Do you think he fell somewhere else?"

Had they killed him?

Ark shook his head. "I lost hold of him after we fell off the plane. I watched him kind of gutter out as he fell. Then he had quick bursts of… explosions? They lifted him up."

"He can fly?" Melmarc asked, shocked.

"Not really fly," Ark corrected. "He'd fall a bit, then use the blast to push himself up or to the side. He was breaking his fall. Wherever he lands, I think it will be a comfortable landing."

"Oh."

Melmarc was happy that Ark hadn't ended up killing the guy, but he wasn't happy that they hadn't defeated the man. They'd stopped him from blowing the plane up. But they hadn't defeated him.

Ark snickered a little.

Melmarc looked at him. "What?"

"We gave an S-rank a run for his money." Ark grinned from ear to ear. "And a combat Gifted at that."

The man hadn't been trying to fight them, not really. He'd been looking for a chance to blow the plane up. Still, they had given him a run for his money. And he was an S-rank.

"We're badasses," Ark laughed. "Real badasses."

Melmarc shook his head, unable to suppress a smile of his own. He shook it aside. "Alright, badass, we need to find out how to get home or to school. First, we need to find out where we are."

"Already got that covered." Ark held his phone up, showing Melmarc the display of a map with directions.

"Is that a ride app?" he asked, confused.

Ark nodded. "I checked the cost of a ride to Fallen High, then the cost from here to the airport."

"And how far is it?"

"Not very," Ark shrugged. "Turns out that we're already in Tatelat. Welcome, Mel, to the city of the Gifted."

Melmarc leaned against the wall. It was good to know that they were not lost.

"Book us a ride to the airport, let's get our things," he said.

"Just like that," Ark grumbled. "We sort of save the day and return to our normal lives. Wait, is this going to be our normal lives? Will this be like our Tuesdays now?"

Melmarc thought about it before shaking his head. "Maybe in the distant future. definitely not now."

"Oh." Ark paused. "I can see myself getting used to it."

"Please book the ride, Ark," Melmarc pleaded. "I just want to find a bed and lie down."

Ark booked the ride without further delay.

As they stayed, waiting for the ride, Melmarc read the notification for his new skill again. [Where Death Lives] was not a skill he liked. Still, it was a skill that he would not reject.

War. Madness. Fear. Pain.

They were growing alongside [Optimum Existence].

Today, he had gained another aspect he did not like.

The aspect of Death.

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