Luqe clumsily stumbled down the wooden stairs, using the loose railing for support on one side and Will's shoulder on the other. The main floor was a messy shop. Metal plating torn off of enchanted mecha-golems, jewelry, and assorted weapons of both ranged and melee combat were scattered everywhere on both the walls, the floor, and hanging from the ceiling.
"Sorry 'bout the mess, pal." Rusty said. "I know it ain't much but it's home." He ducked behind a desk covered with old maps and quills and ink bottles of many varieties and began to shuffle through one of the desk drawers.
"The boss has been in the salvaged goods biz since he was 16." Will said quietly to Luqe. "His father was a blacksmith for the royal guards, at least until more efficient methods of weapon and armor creation were found."
"Tis a shame too! Better a blade that was created through the heart and soul of the creator than one made by an indifferent snap of one God's fingers." Rusty added. "Ah ha! Found them!" Rusty was now holding a pair of slightly foggy goggles and a red neckerchief in his hands. He tossed them to Luqe, who clumsily caught them.
"What are these for?" Luqe asked.
"To cover you up silly!" Rusty stated. Luqe was now even more confused.
"Your eyes, for one, are terrifying. You'll if anything scare off paying customers." Will explained. "In addition to this, there's a chance that you might be relatively well known by nobles. Wouldn't want them finding out who you are?"
"Why not?" Luqe asked as he put on the disguise. "Wouldn't it be better to find out who I am?"
"Ah. But you see bud, the problem with that is that not all nobles are in favour of the rule of Authora and his council. Many believe him to be just an over glorified figurehead. That he's actually a powerless, normal, mortal man that uses more advanced technology to make himself seem as though he is a God." Rusty flipped over the sign(fashioned from metal label off of a gun powder storage barrel) that said the shop was open. "If said nobles see you...well...that might be bad news for all of us."
"Meaning?" Luqe asked.
Will made a disturbing gesture that looked as if he was being hung.
"Oh..." Luqe all of a sudden felt a great amount of emotional weight on his shoulders.
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It was a slow day apparently. The bronze wall clock above the desk struck 12:00. So they'd been open for 3 hours and not a single customer. Luqe was leaned back casually against the wall. By instinct, he began twirling his dagger between his fingers. He realized how familiar it felt to be doing so. He pulled the golden badge from his pocket and studied it. 'Why...' He thought. 'Why did I come back? Was it all just an accident...or was it fate?'
The tiny bell that hung above the door rang, notifying that someone had just walked in. Luqe quickly put away the badge and sheathed his dagger. He watched through the shelves he hid behind as a man dressed in a black coat walked in. Something seemed...off...about him. A hood cast a deep shadow over his face. The bottom of his cloak was torn. Upon closer inspection, it appeared as though it were dripping some kind of black liquid that seemed to turn to gas before it hit the ground.
"G'day sir! How can I help ya?" Rusty said cheerfully, though with a hint of fear on his voice.
"I need a sword." The black-cloaked man stated. His voice was scratchy as if he were speaking through a thin sheet of tin.
Rusty looked surprised. "Well I'll be! Very few folk ask for swords nowadays. With all that magic weapon forging stuff that the council does, nobody appreciates fine--"
"Just get me a weapon." The figure interrupted.
Luqe felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped a bit from suprise before realizing it was just Will.
"Something's not quite right about that gent." Will whispered to Luqe as the figure closely studied the swords Rusty had laid out on the desk.
"Agreed." Luqe said back quietly. "Something tells me he's not really here for a sword..."
"You think the boss knows?" Will asked. He sounded scared.
Luqe turned around to meet Will's gaze. He looked terrified. Luqe sighed. "Listen Will, if something goes wrong, I vow that I'll protect the two of you. Kay'?" Will nodded rapidly.
The figure slowly brushed his hand on one of the blades. Will squeaked. Luqe quickly covered his mouth. He removed his hand.
"B-But...Luqe..." He whined quietly. "That...That's one of the swords I found on the same battlefield I found you on."
"This one...where did you get it?" The figure asked.
"Not sure pal. 'Tis my coworker who found it." Rusty stated.
"Call him. I wish to know." He demanded calmly.
"Alright." Rusty said. "WILL! SOME CUSTOMER WANTS YA!"
Will jumped up from behind the shelf. "G-Good afternoon sir." He said nervously.
The figure grabbed the sword by it's hilt and held it up. "Where did you find this blade?"
"U-Um..." Will managed.
"I said..." the figure slammed the sword back down onto the desk angrily. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS DAMN BLADE!"
"Does it matter that much, gent?" Luqe said coolly. He was now on the opposite side of the shop, leaning against a shelf and twirling his dagger.
"And who the hell are are you?" The figure asked.
"My name is...Spectre." Luqe said. " And I'd be careful how you treat my pals here bud."
The figure narrowed his gaze. "If you really must know, I need to find out what happened to one of the personal guards of Authora."
"You're with Authora?" Rusty asked surprised.
The figure laughed. "AS IF I'D EVER WORK FOR THAT FAKE GOD!" He responded loudly. "Ha. No. I'm afraid I'm trying to find a guard who might be able to get me into the hall of Creators for some...personal business between Authora and I."
"Personal business?" Luqe asked. "Meaning?"
"That does not concern you I'm afraid." The figure stated turning back to the desk.
"And it concerns you?" Luqe said under his breath.
The figure whipped his head back towards Luqe. He stomped over to him until they were about only a person and a half apart. "You...you think you know what I've been through? You think that I'm just some kind of...lowly assassin with a grudge on a so-called God? You wanna know what he did to me? Do you? WELL!? DO YOU!?" The figure through his hood back, revealing his face.
...
Or what was left of it anyways.
Across half of his face was a huge, pitch black mark that seemed to be more of a void than a solid object. The edge of the void was lined with a glowing, purple, crystal-like substance that seemed to pulse whenever he breathed his unsteady and inconsistant breaths. The skin that was still intact was pale with a very slight purple tinge. His left eye was pitch black with a small, glowing, purple dot in the center of it that must have been a pupil of some kind. A grin that screamed insanity stretched across his ruined face.
"E-E-Evening gents!" Said a voice as cold as the depths of a black hole.
"The name's Blackout."

YOU ARE READING
UNsight
FantasyNathan Spectre doesn't remember his past life, but he sure as hell knows it's better than his current one. Having woken up in the middle of an abandoned battlefield, he struggles to find out where he came from and how he got on the battlefield, all...