Chapter 145: A fight
"Aziel, I told you a million times—I’m not going!"
The words hung heavy in the cramped apartment air, thick with the tension that had been building for weeks. Arthur’s voice carried the weariness of someone who had repeated the same argument countless times, each iteration more exhausting than the last.
Aziel’s response was immediate and explosive. His fist crashed down onto the wooden table with such force that their shared dinner dishes rattled, the sound echoing through their modest living space like a gunshot. His eyes blazed with frustration as his lips curved into that familiar pouting expression.
"Come on!" Aziel’s voice cracked with barely contained excitement, his hands gesturing wildly as he leaned forward across the table. "It’s perfect! Just think about it for one second, Arthur. Imagine all the void creatures we’ll get to kill! We’ll fill up our cores in no time!"
The enthusiasm radiating from Aziel was almost palpable, his entire body practically vibrating with anticipation. His hair fell across his forehead as he spoke, and Arthur could see that manic gleam in his friend’s eyes.
Arthur slowly shook his head, he had learned long ago that matching Aziel’s energy only led to bigger explosions, and right now, what they needed was calm reasoning, not more fuel for the fire.
"Aziel, you’re really underestimating the situation in the 3rd district right now," Arthur said, his voice steady despite the frustration building in his chest. "It’s not going to be as easy as you think. Chosen are dying there every day—experienced ones, powerful ones. This isn’t some training ground."
The weight of those words settled between them. Arthur had been following the reports, reading between the lines of the official government statements. The casualty rates were staggering, even if they weren’t being publicized. Every day brought news of more chosen and civilians decimated, another group of promising young Chosen who had ventured into the chaos and never returned.
Aziel let out a wild sigh, the sound somewhere between exasperation and desperate pleading. He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled than before. When he looked up again, his expression had shifted slightly—still determined, but now tinged with something that might have been genuine concern.