We are Heavensfall...

  Aerin dreams of that scythe-wielding woman, her eerily beautiful features a sight he'll never forget...

  She sits alone amidst a battlefield of courses bathed in moonlight, cradling a greatsword close to her body as if it's all she has left...

  She looks so solemn and weary, but she steadily clutches that oddly familiar weapon...

  Her fingers bleed while she clutches the giant sword; she doesn't want to let go...

  And as he slips away from the depths of slumber into the waking world, he sees her crimson eyes open and look his way...

  She looks so...

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Aerin snaps awake and lurches forward from his bed, eventually shutting off the blaring alarm on the nightstand beside him with a drowsy yawn; he's in a nice and tidy bedroom rivaling the likes of a high-class hotel in every way. The young man takes a few extra seconds to gather his thoughts before glancing at the seams of light breaking past the edges of the blackout curtains near his bed. He hops out of bed after a few more seconds, half-dressed. His bare feet touch the soft carpeted floor, and he hops out of bed the same moment the motion-sensing night lights turn on until he reaches the main light across the room.

  The shirtless man's torso is toned and muscular, a byproduct of being a Remnant and living such a demanding lifestyle. The only scars marring his exposed flesh were the recent one across the side of his neck and a prominent one on the center of his solar plexus; the shape implies it's from a vicious stab wound. He glances at the clock atop the TV stand, lacking a television; it's almost noon. Aerin goes to put on some casual clothes from the closet until his travelling outfits are washed and returned, like Trinity promised, but there's a knock on the door. Instead of getting dressed first, the Remnant idly walks to the door while shirtless and unbothered. Cyril did say he'd send for Aerin.

  Aerin casually opens the door and locks eyes with a man a little older and larger than him. The stranger's a tall and solidly built man with short and choppy black hair accentuated by fair skin, light-blue eyes, and a clean-shaven face with a distinct, rugged, and tough look to it. He wears mostly black, save for the grey tank top, and his attire is reminiscent of an urban militia combatant. The moment the two lock eyes, the stranger gets right to business, his voice casual and easygoing, but still professional. As he talks, he hands Aerin a bundle of clothes; it's his cleaned and stitched-up outfit.

  "Aerin, yeah?" the man asks, slipping his hands into his pockets.

  "I'd hope so," Aerin calmly responds, and the stranger flashes a grin with a light chuckle; that was funny.

  "I'm Cyrus, Cyril's son. He sent me to come scoop you up and bring you to his office; I'm sure you've got a lot of questions for him," Cyrus introduces and explains, finally glancing at Aerin's shirtless form with a snort. "You probably want to put on a shirt, though," he chuckles, and Aerin nods before retreating into his room.

  "Be out in a sec," he says, and Cyrus nods. The latter posts up and leans against the wall after the door closes, waiting. The estate they're in is comparable to a mansion from the old days, where civilization prospered. This hallway alone has several bedrooms running down it; all of them, save Aerin's, were empty, though.

  Aerin exits his room after a few minutes, fully dressed and already tailing Cyrus as the latter immediately steps off. The two travel down a hall toward some steps, taking them into a large courtyard garden that's the centerpiece of the massive private estate. Aerin takes in the scenery with a looming awe: this garden has live flowers and trees, the bushes and shrubs are well-maintained, and the building exterior is far nicer than any building Aerin's seen in years. By all intents and purposes, this is the closest Aerin will likely ever get to experiencing the luxuries of a civilization long wiped out.

  "How's Trinity?" Aerin pops the question while walking beside Cyrus through the courtyard, stealing a glance at the working fountain in the center. The last time he saw her, she looked like the weight of the night hit her all over again, and she'd pass out. Cyrus' comforting words ease his mind.

  "She's doing great after getting some rest and medical attention," Cyrus calmly replies, pulling open the glass door and letting Aerin go inside first before continuing. "She's already in the office with Cyril; she wanted to be present for the conversation because she's nosey as fuck," he jokes, and Aerin suddenly laughs because that catches him off guard.

  "She's a character, for sure," Aerin acknowledges, stepping inside with Cyrus quickly shutting the door behind them. "She's pretty cool, though. I never saw a Remnant capable of reviving the dead like that..." he adds, and Cyrus suddenly taps his shoulder, stopping Aerin from walking to face him. The blue-eyed man looks a little more serious...

  "Try not to bring that up too much around her; it's a more sensitive topic than she lets on..." Cyrus politely informs, releasing Aerin's shoulder, and Aerin quietly nods; that's all he needs to hear. As the two turn to continue their journey, another question pops into Aerin's head while they're walking down a short hallway; Cyril's office is at the end of it.

  "How'd Trinity get involved with you guys, anyway?" the silver-haired Remnant inquires, and Cyrus glances his way with a dry chuckle.

  "The same way Cyril got his hands on you," the man chuckles in response, tapping his head and alluding to his father's craftiness. "My father's as good with words as he is smart. He's the smartest person I know, and I believe his interest in you and Trinity is paving a way for a future I'm a little excited to see," he says, causing Aerin's brow to furrow when he glances Cyrus' way.

  "You sure he's not manipulative?" Aerin bluntly questions, knowing it's stupid to ask a man's son this question, but he asks anyway. "The best liars tend to be the greatest smooth talkers," he elaborates, but Cyrus quickly dismisses his valid concerns with a head shake and hand wave.

  "My father is many things, but a liar isn't one of them," he assures, stopping a fair distance from the door so their words aren't heard when he whispers to Aerin. "He might not tell the entire truth when you want it, but he'll never intentionally put you in a position he doesn't believe you can handle, or will not benefit you." he straightens his posture and steps away from Aerin, nodding his final assurance.

  "Trust in my father, and he'll help you uncover everything you want to know about your visions and that sword," Cyrus affirms with sincerity, gesturing that they keep walking now. "Remnants have to stick together after all; we're all that's left to fight the Abyss..." he sighs, and Aerin falls quiet. The Abyss...

  He doesn't want to think about it.

  Knock. Knock. Knock!

  "Come in!" a gruff man's voice beckons beyond the dark oaken door.

  The door creaks open, and the two young men step into a nice and neat office with quite a lot of space to spare. The dark-colored furniture and decorations are neatly organized and placed in a min/max style design; it's already clear that Cyril does pay attention to detail. The windows are open, bathing most of the open space in a warm and cozy sunlight. Cyril sits atop his office table as the room's focal piece, and Trinity idles behind nearby in the shadow of a wall strip between the windows. Her expression rouses upon seeing the two while Cyril welcomes them.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "I'm glad to see you're up and healthy, Aerin," Cyril commends with a formal tone. He's a tall, middle-aged, and well-built man with greying black hair and a neatly trimmed beard, fair-hued skin, and aged, toughened features fitting all the stories Aerin's heard about him. The man's blue eyes settle on Aerin first before turning to Cyrus, his expression is stalwart, yet gentle.

  "I would've sent my son to accompany you both for added assurance, but given the circumstances, he was needed elsewhere..." the man explains while settling his arms over his lap, giving a small sigh of apology. "Still, I am aware that there's no excuse for sending you into a situation I didn't fully prepare for. For that, I sincerely apologize and will offer whatever you need in exchange for your services above our original agreement," he suddenly elaborates, and Aerin's face flashes with blatant surprise; he wasn't expecting that. Especially since he hasn't said a word to the man yet. Trinity notices Aerin's reaction and stifles a laugh, covering her mouth.

  "Is this sufficient?" Cyril asks Aerin, noting the man's surprise and possibly misinterpreting it. "Do remember that while I am somewhat stable in this dystopian economy, my funds must be carefully used-" Aerin cuts him off with a dismissive hand wave and a shake of his head.

  "Don't..." Aerin starts, lowering his hand a few seconds later. "Don't worry about that; I'm fine with you just keeping your end of our original deal," he assures with a soft exhale, glancing Trinity's way. As if on cue, she meets his eyes as well. Aerin furrows his brow before asking a question. "Why are you hiding in the shadows?" he asks, and Trinity sarcastically responds.

  "I want to maintain my dark and edgy image," she smiles, and Aerin eye rolls. Cyrus and Cyril chuckle, and the latter grabs the reins of the discussion again, gesturing to Aerin as he still stands by the door. The bearded man's voice is deep, baritone, and rugged; he's a man with a lot of experience.

  "So, I assume you want to skip all of the fluff and get right into the big questions, yeah?" Cyril asks, and Aerin nods before asking his first question. The most important one that's been on his mind ever since he saw Her.

  "Who is that red-eyed woman, and what's her connection to me?" the silver-haired Remnant asks, and Cyril answers without missing a moment.

  "She's called a Reflection; they're spiritual concepts capable of manifesting and maintaining physical form in the waking world," he answers, and it raises another question from Aerin.

  "So, she's not real?" he asks, and Cyril answers on cue again.

  "Oh, she's very real," he chuckles, gesturing toward Aerin. "She helped you kill that Abyssal Knight, didn't she?" he asks, and Trinity suddenly chimes in with a mildly irritated, but grudge-lacking tone.

  "She also killed me! Let's not fucking forget that..." the young woman eye rolls then closes them and lowers her head. She crosses her arms, muttering something else that's too low to be picked up, but it's likely she called that woman a slur. Cyril grunts in silence, knowing the severity of Trinity's words isn't downplayed by her ability. Trinity quickly absolves suspicion by clarifying to everyone and nobody in particular.

  "You've already apologized and made it up to me, though, so I'll let this rare incident slide," she brushes it off like it's no big deal before gesturing for the man to turn his attention to Aerin again, which Cyril promptly does when the Remnant asks another question.

  "That woman said that I'm a Reaper. What's that, and why is she my Reflection?" Aerin asks. Cyril suddenly pauses and looks aside in mild, deep thought; he's not sure how to explain this, but he tries his best when he finally answers.

  "It confirms my suspicions about you and that sword, if anything..." the man mentions in a serious tone, and the vibe of the room shifts toward something heavier and more foreboding; it doesn't feel like good news. Cyril eventually meets Aerin's gaze again, his expression intense and direct; what he's about to say needs to be taken to heart.

  "Are you familiar with an organization known as the Crusader Seven?" he asks, and Aerin tilts his head in thought for a second before shaking it. Cyril hums in thought; he's not surprised. "Makes sense, considering you said you have no memories beyond a couple of months back..." he reveals, and Trinity's eyes widen in shock.

  "You're an amnesiac!?" she asks, interrupting the discussion. Aerin casually affirms her inquiry with a nod, elaborating.

  "Not entirely..." he trails, pausing to figure out how to say this without it sounding stupid. "I remember basic stuff and have some common knowledge, but in terms of personal memories of events and places like home, friends, or even enemies?" he pauses again and shakes his head, shrugging with it. "Don't remember a thing. It's actually a very awkward experience. Honestly," he sighs like he's defeated, brushing it off afterward.

  "Regardless..." Cyril takes control of the conversation again and elaborates. "The Crusader Seven are responsible for the extinction of the last Reapers," he explains, leaning forward so that Aerin feels the weight behind his eyes and the next sentence out of his mouth. His words shake the room with their significance.

  "To make things simple, Aerin, you can change the world," Cyril bomb drops.

  Aerin's silent for a long time; he's lost in thought.

  Everyone lets him think.

  "... I can't say that's what I expected to hear," Aerin finally speaks, his voice full of hesitation and subtle anxiety; he's trying to keep his cool, but this might be a bit too much. "Let's say that I believe you when you say I can change the world. How?" he asks, and Cyril calmly elaborates after standing from his chair and pacing; he takes a few seconds to think before answering.

  "You can start by killing the Crusader Seven and restoring the Astral and Umbral balance," Cyril says, his blue eyes locking with Aerin's when Trinity suddenly chimes in with confusion; Cyril is speaking nonsense.

  "You can't kill a Revenant; they're immortal," she softly huffs, her tone irritated and tired when she crosses her arms and closes her eyes. "Not to mention that they're incredibly strong; it's why they run things and we don't," she snorts, and Cyril quickly retorts while pointing at Aerin.

  "He can kill them, though."

  "It's a little too early to even be talking about this," Cyrus butts in with a scoff, blowing off the entire suggestion. "We should be focusing on smaller and more immediate issues instead of dreaming big and setting ourselves up for failure. Because we're not getting close to Anelia anytime soon," he pauses, and his intensity shifts the entire vibe of the air from a growing hopefulness to a grim reminder of reality. His next statement is just as potent as his father's.

  "And if she finds out what Aerin is before we're ready, well..." he doesn't elaborate, but everyone gets his point.

  "Anelia?" Aerin asks with a furrowed brow, but Cyril waves off his inquiry after heeding his son's advice. The man changes the subject shortly after with a mild grunt.

  "We'll talk about them later. What's more important is that we help you regain your lost memories and unlock more of your power. However..." Cyril pauses again and approaches Aerin, stopping a short distance outside the silver-haired man's personal space to ask him a potent question. It catches the amnesiac off guard.

  "I intend to honor our deal as per our agreement, but to assist you any further, I must know your reasons for wanting to learn about your past?" he inquires, but Aerin's response is curt, likely not what he anticipated.

  "Because it's weird not having them," he shrugs as if the question is a little stupid. Trinity snorts, Cyril looks momentarily dumbfounded, and Cyrus cracks a grin as if that's the funniest thing he's seen all day. Aerin quickly stops joking around after a small chuckle and gets serious again, evident in his tone.

  "I have nightmares telling me not to fail at something. They frequently plague me," Aerin starts explaining and moves over to look out the window at the dystopian mess of a city he's likely exploring later. All eyes are on him as he talks.

  "Don't fail like she did..." the amnesiac repeats that phrase while thinking about that scythe-wielding woman. It couldn't be regarding her, could it? "I don't know who she is, but if what you're telling me is true..." he pauses and faces Trinity, who's a few feet from him now; their eyes meet before the young man looks at Cyril again.

  "Then finding out about my past is more of a necessity than a luxury, because something's going to happen in the future. I need to be ready for whatever it's going to be..." Aerin says with a reluctance in his voice; he wishes he didn't have to do this to begin with. "Fate is something we don't get to choose for ourselves, so I should prepare in advance instead of waiting around," he rests a hand on his waist with a heavy sigh and pinches his nose.

  "I'm likely going to have to kill the Crusader Seven one way or another. I'll need to learn all I can about them," he returns to the topic only for a moment before changing it again. "For now, I want to learn more about my Reflection and what a Reaper is. You got leads, don't you?" he inquires, and Cyril flashes a beaming smirk of approval. He's so glad this young man's easy to work with despite the circumstances.

  "I have to say it's a little shocking to see you so easily accept and pursue the role you've been given in this life..." Cyril chuckles, pleased beyond measure. "But remember that Fate is simply the final destination, and free will is the pathways toward it. I will not force you to make any choices should you press on with us..." he pauses and rests his hand on Aerin's shoulder, his next words something the younger man will remember for as long as he lives.

  "When it's time to make a choice, make sure it's one you won't regret."

  Aerin silently ponders those words for a little while before nodding, and Cyril pulls his hand away. The latter eyes his son next, gesturing toward him as he speaks. "Son, you said you had good news to share once we've all gathered?" he asks, and Cyrus nods and then pulls out a small slip of paper from his baggy pants pocket.

  "Yeah. We got approved to start the Guild like you wanted," he reveals, and Cyril suddenly breaks into a hearty and victorious laughter; he's elated. Trinity gives a small smile before stealing a glance at Aerin when he sees Cyril in confusion. The older man happily explains himself, his grin wider than ever.

  "Welcome to the Guild, Aerin. We are Heavensfall."

  And thus, the amnesiac's journey starts in earnest.

  One can only pray it ends differently...

  Next Chapter: Discordia