Roll of Honor: Chane

It wasn't enough.

Years of research, suffering, and sacrifice... and it still wasn't enough. Chane flung the stack of notes from his desk, showering the dark laboratory with faintly glowing leaves of parchment. He had failed. Again.

Solana still reigned unopposed, blinding the feeble minded with pious nonsense so they would never see the ugly truth. Chane slumped forward, rubbing his aching temples. There had to be another way, it couldn't all be for nothing. It was unacceptable.


He froze, ears pricking at the sound. The laboratory was as silent as the grave, save for muffled shrieks emanating from some dark corridor elsewhere in the Demonastery. He didn't dare move a muscle, straining to hear that ominous rasp again.


He whirled around, hoping to catch whatever was breathing down his neck red-clawed. But the room was empty. Chane scowled. He was too intelligent to allow his own mind to play tricks on him. Something wasn't right.

"...Thhh... gaaate..."

The blood instantly drained from his face. The whisper was silent yet deafening. Harsh yet melodious. Everywhere yet nowhere. In a single moment those two words alone told Chane everything he needed to know. This was the answer. He could feel it in his blackened soul.

"What... what do you need me to do?" He cautiously asked the empty air, digging his fingers deep into the marred wood of the desk until blood spurted from underneath his nails.

"Find... me..."