Krain and Prota went down a few more levels, until they reached an empty room.

From what they had seen so far, the tower had a spiral staircase going down the entirety of its center. In this particular room, the staircase was covered by a hexagonal prism. It took some maneuvering to find out how to open the compartment, but Prota managed to crack it.

One wall of the center hexagon opened up, and Prota stepped through.

Krain tried to walk through the doorway, but he was zapped with blue bolts of electricity. 

“It’ll only let one of us through,” Krain surmised. “Be careful in there.”

“I will,” Prota said with a nod as he looked at his friend. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it out of this alive,” he looked up confidently, “so that all those suffering can rest in peace.” With that, the young man turned around and went down the stairs.

When Prota entered the next room, he knew that Anta must have been close by, since his heart was at peace. The one side of the hexagonal room was a laboratory, with a large machine of golden gears against the wall. “This must be it,” he assumed. He pulled his sword from its sheath and slammed it into the machine, denting its rectangular base.

“That’s your plan?” Anta scoffed from behind Prota’s back. 

Prota snarled as he turned to his enemy. “You gonna stop me?” He pointed his sword at the villain.

Anta pulled his own sword out from his cape.

“Oh, you’re actually going to fight me this time?” Prota asked, with a hint of skepticism.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Anta said, holding his sword out in self defense, expecting his intruder to attack at any moment. “Join me, Prota,” he pleaded.

“What?” Prota asked, angrily. “How dare you! You have the nerve to ask me to join your cause after what you did?”

“You’ve experienced the pain of losing a loved one firsthand,” Anta reminded him. “Let’s stop this pointless fighting. Please, let everyone keep on living.” His soft blue eyes looked sad and lonely. “Don’t take life away from them. Together, we can complete the resurrection machine and bring back those we’ve lost.”

Right when Prota was about to swing his sword, Anta’s words sunk in. “I… can bring Tiki back?”

“Yes,” Anta sighed, hoping that the man could see his point of view. “We can bring Tiki back, and no one will ever have to die again!”

Prota was speechless for a moment. Was this really his aim? “Why the hell should I believe you’d bring her back? What’s in it for you?” He pointed his sword at the taller man once again.

“I lost the love of my life,” Anta confessed. “He’s the reason I stopped death. I’m building a machine to bring him back. And if I can do that, I’d gladly bring Tiki back as well.”

“You used her to get to me,” Prota realized.

“Yes,” Anta admitted. “I had to. Would you have been willing to work with me if you hadn’t seen someone die?”

“The question is,” Prota spoke with deliberation, “would I be willing to work with someone who killed the one I love?” He glared at his nemesis, fury building in his eyes.

“I only killed her to show you the truth!” Anta yelled, his voice deep and stern. “Death hurts, Prota! It’s not something people want! Let them be rid of it!”

“If you don’t want death, don’t go around killing people!” Prota roared and slashed at Anta’s stomach. “Hnngh,” Prota looked down, thinking Anta had cut him. No, it was just from him cutting Anta. Not only could he feel it, but… blood spilled from a slit in his own stomach. “H-how?” He gasped, as he collapsed to the floor.

“Do you get it now?” Anta asked. “You and I are connected. If you could kill me, you’d kill yourself. But lucky for you, death is impossible.” Anta smiled sinisterly, as he lifted his blade slowly and cut deeply into his own left arm, making Prota bleed and scream in pain.

“What the hell!?” Prota exclaimed, after collapsing on the ground. “Doesn’t that hurt you?” He watched as blood gushed from Anta’s wound.

“Yes,” Anta said bluntly. He lowered the tip of his sword to dig into Prota’s side. “I’m just not as sensitive as you.”

As Prota screamed, a gash appeared in the side of Anta’s leather garment. The white haired man sighed as blood seeped from his wound. He could feel it more when he did it to Prota. He kind of liked it.

Anta crouched down by Prota’s side. Prota could see through his suit that he was getting aroused from the bloodshed. It sickened him. What was worse was that, despite his injuries, Prota could feel his own blood flowing down there too.

Anta’s cold white hand stroked Prota’s cheek and made him shiver.

“Don’t touch me, you sick bastard!” Prota looked like he was considering biting Anta’s hand, but he realized it would be a bad idea. “What the hell did you do to me?!”

“I think it’s fair,” Anta said, as he looked sinisterly down at the boy. “You came here to kill me, didn’t you? You can’t kill me regardless, but… You won’t attack if you know it will hurt you too.”

“Oh yeah?” Prota took that as a challenge. He picked up his sword, forced himself back up onto his feet, and lunged at his enemy.

Tiki, who was behind the curtain the entire time, couldn’t bare to let this happen. She ran out from her hiding place and rushed toward her beloved.

“Prota, NO!” She screamed as she reached for him.

But it was too late. Prota had rammed his sword through Anta.

The pain was so excruciating that Prota blacked out for a second. When he awoke, he felt Anta’s cold fingers on the back of his head, pulling him closer. Anta’s hand delicately wrapped around Prota’s, and he pulled the sword deeper into his body.

Blood gushed from their stomachs and mouths. The pain was unbearable. Tears poured from Prota’s eyes. He looked up at the other man’s expressionless face as he realized what was going on.

Anta wanted to die.

Prota’s lips quivered. He coughed up more blood as he grabbed the side of Anta’s head with one of his weakened hands. “P-please,” he struggled to speak. “Break the curse! Don’t you want to?” 

Anta stepped backwards, slowly freeing himself from the sword. Prota watched in agony as his blood-drenched sword emerged from the man’s body. Prota dropped it with a clatter and collapsed headfirst onto the hard floor of the lab. Anta fell backwards, his chest heaving, but his face devoid of emotion.

Tiki watched the scene in horror, cursing herself for letting such a thing happen. How could she let them hurt each other like Anta asked? How could she keep herself hidden, knowing how much it would hurt Prota?

But now wasn’t the time to ruminate. Anta had taught her what to do when this inevitably happened. She grabbed the medical supplies from his desk and went to the men’s aid. She staunched the blood and patched them up as best as she could. She prayed with all her might that the love of her life wouldn’t become a Lost.