Chapter 1286. Blowing Up the Lake
All the humans, spirits, and creatures of the shelter were able to become a part of Saint Fan Emperor, reduced to a bulbous, fleshy mass whenever the wretched spirit desired the transformation.
Many of the elder people considered committing suicide to avoid such a ghastly fate. But they knew that if they tried, Saint Fan would have them resurrected and forced to endure a punishment far greater than any that a grueling death could deal them.
Rodman was more hopeless than ever, acknowledging the grizzly doom that might inevitably await him. Mustering the strength to march on as a slave, each and every day, with a wicked noose such as that above their heads was a monumental achievement; especially with the knowledge that not even the mercy of death could ever be obtained.
For the human residents of Saint Fan Shelter, hope was nothing more than a hazy memory of some ancient concept they were once familiar with. It was a distant stranger that never ventured there anymore.
Like he did every other day, Rodman went to fetch water for the flowers. The waters might as well have been prison walls, and he wished for nothing more than to view the sky above with perfect clarity. Having to see the sky through the dreamy current of the water made it seem unreal.
But then, all of a sudden, Rodman noticed the flicker of a foreign shadow. He could immediately tell it was a human; a young man, no less.
He recognized this because the young man was wearing a battlesuit that belonged to the Alliance.
Rodman had seen something similar to this two years ago, and it wasn’t exactly customary for spirits to don the garb of humans. But it was lovely to see, as it was a reminder of home.
“Has he come from another shelter? If he has, he needs to make himself scarce. If the spirits see him… he’s going to have a bad time.” As Rodman thought of this, more dark figures started to come into sight.