Who Are You?

Arc 3.3 - Luther Abravel

This is what we call torture by water boarding.

Luther has been inflicted with it on a regular basis now. Since then the torture methods have been steadily getting worse. Broken fingers, ripping off his nails. And even worse, they branded his skin with the emblem of Vraignia to make him marked for life in shame. Like he gives two shits about either kingdom. His kidneys had gotten so many hits that he's even been pissing blood...

In fact, it's surprising Luther hasn't gotten any psychological scars yet.

'...God it hurts...'

[Bear through it, Host!] °(ಗдಗ。)°.

Dirt and grime stuck to the unmoving body chained to the wall. His head hung down, dry blood on his chopped white hair.

They had chopped off the hosts hair before Rhea had entered the world. The hair still laid scattered on the dungeon floor, dark with mud, blood and other substances.

[the original Luther got out! You can too Host!]

'...you think I can get out when I'm like this?... heh, funny. Where's the rescue team?'

[Host... Im sorry but no one is coming to save you. The original Luther Abravel was a soldier.... An easily expendable soldier. No matter how talented he was, they won't waste resources on an expendable who got himself captured during a recon mission. There can always be another Luther...]

A dark silence wafted over the air. If the reality hadn't set in before it certainly had now. Luther was all by himself right now, with nothing to rely on. Weak, injured, and starving. Life wasn't looking too good right now.

'How cruel.' His tone went low, quiet. Solemn.

[they are cruel!]

'But...that's true... you're right. No one's coming. I'm going to die here now. Fuck the mission.'

...maybe Luther did get a few phycological scars after all... (-人-。)

'It won't be long before they end up just chopping my limbs off and leaving me to die.'

[...]

Luther's dead eyes glinted with a spark, 'fuck the missions. I don't care about it right now. First priority: live.'

Parasite sighed in relief. He really thought his host gave up for good for a second there.

'we need to do something.'

Right after that thought, footsteps approached his cell. But they didn't stop, they walked further, stopping at the cell right next to Luther's. The door opened with the shriek of metal against metal. Cries yelped out as two figures were harshly thrown into the cell.

Slowly, Luther raised his blank eyes and saw two small kids huddled up together, trembling in terror as the soldier man locked up the cell and walked away.

Luther's eyes went cold.

'We need to find a way out soon.'

Luther lowered his head and closed his dry eyes to keep from straining himself for too long. He truly felt exhausted and weak. He wouldn't be able to fight for very long even if they let go of his chains.

The two kids started sobbing with such raw emotion Luther wanted to plug his ears. The original host was a man who kept emotions on a tight leash, so hearing those two scrawny kids crying and failing at suppressing their tears was clawing at Luther's weakened heart after having to suffer so much torture alone. The feeling almost risked him breaking his character just to say or do something.