The Omnipotent System

Eren sat astride his pale horse, the beast's spectral mane shimmering like a flowing stream of light. His skeletal hand rested loosely on the reins, the edges of his cloak fluttering in the heated air, giving him an almost ghostly presence. He tilted his head slightly, his shadowed face turned toward Kael, though no features could be discerned beneath the hood. The quiet between them was heavy, broken only by the distant crackling of flames and the occasional groan of the wounded.

Kael pushed herself to her feet, her movements deliberate but unsteady. Her crimson eyes locked onto him, their once vivid glow dimming slightly, but the determination within them remained unshaken. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion and grief, but she carried herself upright, refusing to falter before the figure before her.

Eren's horse pawed the ground with a soft clink of its hooves, and his voice, low and steady, broke the silence.

"You are not human anymore," he said, his words measured but tinged with disbelief. His hidden gaze swept over her, taking in her soot-streaked face, her trembling hands, and the faint tendrils of shadow that still clung to her like living creatures. "What are you?"

Kael's lips curled into a scoff, her expression hardening as she straightened her posture. She crossed her arms over her chest, her crimson eyes narrowing as she looked him over. Despite his ominous appearance, the familiarity in his voice pulled at something deep inside her.

"You're also not human," she replied, her voice firm but laced with a sharp edge. "And I don't see myself asking you the same question."

Eren's grip on the reins tightened, the faint rasp of bone on leather audible. His head tilted ever so slightly as if to acknowledge her words. He let out a soft sigh, the sound carrying more weariness than he intended, before replying, "Maybe I'm not the weak, manaless Eren you remember, but I'm still Eren." His tone softened, almost pleading as he added, "And to me, you're still Kael."

Kael's jaw tightened, her expression flickering between frustration and something more vulnerable. She exhaled sharply through her nose and shook her head, her voice steady but carrying a hint of sadness. "You're right," she said, her gaze unwavering. "You're still Eren to me. But that doesn't mean things haven't changed—for either of us."

Eren shifted in the saddle, his bony hand brushing the mane of his horse as if to steady himself. For a long moment, he didn't speak, his hooded face turned toward the horizon. Then, with a flick of the reins, the pale horse began to move. He guided it past Kael, his figure imposing yet strangely fragile against the backdrop of devastation.

"I need to see the town," he said quietly, his voice heavy with a determination that belied his uncertainty.

Kael stepped forward, her hand darting out to grasp his skeletal arm. The coldness of the bone against her touch sent a shiver through her, but she didn't let go. Her crimson eyes burned as she met the shadow of his gaze.

"It's gone, Eren," she said, her voice low and steady. The weight of her words hung between them, slicing through the tension like a blade. "The town… it's no more."

Eren froze, the reins slipping slightly from his grasp. His head turned toward her, and though his expression was hidden, Kael could feel the shift in his presence—the hesitation, the unspoken denial. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned his gaze toward the town.

His hood tilted, his posture stiffening as he finally took in the scene before him. The faint, sickly glow of lingering flames danced on the horizon, and the acrid stench of death and ash filled the air. Eren's skeletal fingers curled into fists, the faint creak of bone audible as his grip tightened.

"No…" he whispered, the word barely audible but laced with a raw, unfiltered pain. His shoulders slumped, and the usually imposing figure seemed to shrink, his head bowing slightly as if under an invisible weight. "This… this can't be…"

Kael's grip on his arm tightened for a moment before she released him, stepping back to give him space. Her gaze softened, the hard edges of her demeanor melting into something gentler as she watched him struggle with the reality of what lay before him.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice carrying a sincerity that cut through the heavy air.

Eren didn't respond immediately. He remained motionless atop his horse, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths. Then, without looking at her, he finally spoke, his voice hollow.

"Who did this?"

Kael hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced back toward the shadows where the last of the mercenaries lay motionless. When she turned back to Eren, her crimson eyes burned with a quiet resolve.

"Mercenaries," she said. "Hired by someone. I don't know who yet, but I'll find out."

Eren nodded slowly, his skeletal hand lifting to pull back his hood. His face, pale and gaunt but unmistakably human, was etched with a mixture of grief and fury. His dark eyes, though sunken, gleamed with an intensity that matched Kael's.

Eren dismounted his spectral horse with a slow, deliberate motion, his skeletal feet touching the scorched earth without a sound. His cloak settled around him, brushing against the ground as he walked toward the nearest lifeless body. The soft clink of bone against armor echoed faintly in the stillness, each step purposeful, unwavering. His gaunt face, though pale and hollow, carried a grim determination as his dark eyes fixed on the corpse before him.

Kael watched him warily, her arms crossing over her chest. Her crimson eyes tracked his movements, narrowing as suspicion and disbelief warred within her. The faint tremor in her fingers betrayed her exhaustion, but her stance remained firm. She tilted her head slightly, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"What are you doing, Eren?" she demanded, her tone sharp but tinged with an edge of curiosity. "They're dead. What more could you possibly get from them?"

Eren paused briefly, turning his hollow gaze toward her. The faintest flicker of a smirk touched his thin lips—a grim, knowing expression that sent a shiver down her spine. "Getting answers," he said simply, his voice calm, as if stating an undeniable fact.

Kael's scoff was harsh, a bark of incredulity that she couldn't hold back. "Answers?" she repeated, her expression hardening. "Have you gone blind, or are you just senile? Look at them. They're beyond answering anything."

Eren didn't respond immediately. Instead, he knelt beside the body of a mercenary, his skeletal hand reaching out to brush the bloodied armor. The motion was slow, almost reverent, as if he were peeling back the veil between the living and the dead. He whispered something under his breath—words Kael couldn't make out but felt in the air around them, the atmosphere growing heavier, colder. Continue your journey at M-V-L

Before her, the corpse began to stir. Faint, sickly light seeped from the body, coalescing into an ethereal form. The soul of the mercenary—a translucent, wavering figure—rose from the lifeless shell. Its eyes, wide with terror and confusion, locked onto Eren, who stood over it with an unsettling calm.

Kael's breath hitched, her body stiffening as her mind scrambled to process what she was seeing. "What… the hell?" she muttered, her voice low but carrying a mix of awe and unease. She took an instinctive step back, her eyes flicking between the soul and Eren, who turned his gaze toward her.

"What do you think Horseman of Death means?" he asked, his voice low, steady, and almost teasing. The faintest shadow of amusement played at the corners of his sunken eyes, though his expression remained otherwise grim.

Kael's jaw tightened, her defiance reasserting itself even as her stomach churned. She met his gaze, her crimson eyes flashing with irritation. "You could've warned me," she snapped, her voice sharper than intended, though her unease still bled through.

Eren ignored her, his focus shifting back to the spirit. His dark eyes bore into the translucent figure, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Who sent you?" he asked, his words clipped and cold.

The soul writhed, its form flickering as though struggling to remain tethered. "I… I can't…" it stammered, its voice distorted, trembling with fear.

"You can," Eren countered, his voice as sharp as a blade. He raised a bony hand, and the air around the spirit grew colder, oppressive. "And you will."

The spirit's resistance faltered under the weight of his presence. Its trembling grew more pronounced, and Kael could see the desperation in its eyes. Her own unease deepened as she watched Eren—this wasn't the man she remembered. The man before her was someone, or something, far more formidable and far less merciful.

"You're scaring it," Kael said, her voice softer but still firm. She stepped closer, though she stopped just short of his reach. "If you want answers, maybe don't crush its soul in the process."

Eren's head tilted slightly toward her, his bony fingers twitching as if considering her words. For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and charged. Then, with a slow exhale, he relented, his hand dropping to his side. The oppressive cold receded, though his presence remained imposing.

The spirit sagged, its form stabilizing slightly. It looked at Eren with a mix of fear and reluctant obedience. "We… we were hired," it admitted, its voice a hollow echo. "By someone in the shadows. We never saw them… only received orders… payment…"

Eren's jaw tightened, his skeletal hand curling into a fist. "Describe the voice," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Kael crossed her arms, her sharp gaze fixed on the scene. She didn't trust this situation, but she couldn't deny the results. As the spirit began to stammer out details, her mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information while trying to reconcile the man before her with the Eren she once knew.