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"My blade, you are my blade"
Ash had never met anyone so similar to himself in his life.
Words were unnecessary to understand the other person. His heart pounded as he plunged his sword into the heart of another victim, blood filling his vision. It pounded as new plans for the destruction of this world formed in his mind. The words weren't even a metaphor. If Ewron ordered him to plunge his sword into his heart right now, he would. For a moment, a silence lingered between them, easing the tension. Ash questioned killing or kidnapping a comrade who was too perfect. He would interrogate him to see if one of his old enemies had hired an actor to undermine him. But what if this perfection turned out to be true?
Watching him at every turn had become routine. The way he walked, spoke, laughed, and even his facial expressions became increasingly familiar. Sometimes he disappeared from his sight—it impressed him. Whenever the assassin was awake and Ash didn't have an important meeting, he was impossible to find. Why? Because he was always in the former's shadow. Others' conversations with Ewron were often joyful, but the sense of murderous intent quickly ended them.
The turning point came with the death of Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz, Ewron's panda. His behavior changed; he disappeared more and more often, sat by the grave for hours, and later talked to himself while gazing at the sunset.
The time had come for their reunion, unbeknownst to either of them. Ash arrived a little late at their agreed-upon meeting place, curious about what they were going to discuss this time.
"Someone stole Grzegorz's body," Ewron said slowly.
"Who, say the name" He didn't even realize he was saying anything. The whole thing shocked him far more than it should have. The panda, who had been nothing more than another earthly parasite to him, had now become more important than the Regime.
"Foolish, at least that's what I suspect," he said, a tear forming in his eye. It quickly disappeared, just as Ash's boat, along with himself, did.
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Their first meeting wasn't the usual "Do you wanna help me kill everyone?" He never forgot that sentence, couldn't. It etched itself into his heart like a tattoo. A gaze that was as empty as his own. He felt as if he could become the other's God, guiding him to his goal.
When he heard about the change in plans, he was disappointed. He knew he had to fulfill the original purpose for the story to be complete. He would do so with or without Ash's knowledge. He wasn't averse to being followed by another, but there were times when he needed to be alone, so he disappeared. Ash's ego deceived him; he had never been the best manipulator—Ewron was.
The panda's death wasn't intentional, it wasn't planned. It destroyed its owner's entire world, and now the only meaning of existence was a promise.
"I will fulfill my promise; after all, my life is dedicated to him. And I want to assure you that your murderer will suffer. He will suffer on earth and in hell. I will not allow him a single moment of peace. I am your master, therefore there is no way I can show mercy to your murderer."
Who was the murderer? Was it Foolish—oh, it never was. He was just another pawn in this game, someone meant to occupy Ash's time so Ewron could prepare everything. When Ash returned without Foolish's head, having given him all the information he had gathered, Ewron ordered him to find the real murderer. He didn't need to say anything more; they separated, sailing in different directions. At least for now.
The next few weeks were filled with mass kidnappings, from which no one had yet returned.
"It's not even safe here, damn it!" Nexe shouted furiously.
"There's only one person here who could have done this. Of course I'm talking about Ash; everyone knows his plans," a Spanish voice added.
"Mis amigos, let's be calm. We'll discuss this elsewhere," Quackity joined the conversation, hearing shouts of anger and fear.
Despite the actions taken, the kidnappings continued. Everyone began avoiding the prime suspect, but nothing helped.
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Ash focused on only two things: finding the murderer and meeting Ewron. He was getting closer to discovering his identity, and their conversations were becoming increasingly fascinating. They were remarkably similar, yet there were differences. They were like two pieces of a puzzle. It was almost perfect time for him, but the Regime was at a standstill. How much longer could he postpone continuing his plan?
The murderer was never someone, it was something. A bomb, not a sword. Without Grzegorz's body and false testimony, this was crucial information. He entered the building with the next suspects—empty. Spawn—empty. Regime—empty. Polish hussars—empty.
Almost.
Polish hussars—not empty?
In front of one of the rooms was a small, dark red thing. Ash stepped closer, feeling a heartbeat like before. Thump—one step
Thump—two steps
Thump—he extended his hand toward it. Another heartbeat preceded the person's arrival.
Thump—was this a reaction to the thing or the person?
The assassin quickly approached Ash, greeting him. Despite this, he didn't meet his gaze; the other was still staring at the thing now held in his hand.
"My eyes are here," Ewron said seriously, lifting Ash's face with his hand, staring intently at him.
Looking up, he felt a pang that made him faint. The smell of decay was so strong that he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw a long table in front of him. At the other end sat a person who immediately waved at him. He focused his gaze, even though he recognized him from the gesture, after all, he'd been watching him for so long. The other man spread his arms in a gesture of greeting. Then, in a theatrical voice, he said, "We made it, my friend."
Ash looked around, confused. Each chair was occupied by a single person with a full plate. No one spoke. It was no surprise, considering none of the figures even had eyeballs, and their clothes were soaked in blood. Most of it was dried. Perfectly prepared, everything was to his liking, but it was so inhumane that he didn't even consider doing it. Before each corpse was a plate filled with the person's entrails. His plate was empty.
"It won't have yours on it, don't be afraid. I'm sorry, would you mind if I took yours?" he asked in the second half of the sentence to a figure who didn't respond. "Silence means consent." He picked up the dish without even bothering to take the plate away, then walked over to Ash and handed it to him. Ash had never been tied down; he sat motionless in the chair, with no intention of escaping.
"Wasn't the plan supposed to be to destroy the world?" Ash asked, not taking his eyes off the other man.
"Not what I promised," Ewron replied.
"What did you promise me?"
"That I would help you kill EVERYONE. That I would be your sword because I dedicate my life to you. I betrayed everyone for you, what would I do if you rejected me?" He clutched his chest. "Those weren't idle promises. If you order me to follow you, I will. You order me to plunge my sword into an enemy, I will. You order my death—I will plunge whatever sharp object I have in my hand into my chest, piercing my heart, because it belongs to you. I have no remorse, and I will not—" He sank his teeth into one of the dishes he held in his hand. The heart. He tore off a piece and set it aside, giving Ash a choice.
They were both messed up, but weren't they a perfect match?
Thump—Ash was sure now.
He took the set-aside heart and, without hesitation, bit it down with all his might. Blood dripping from their mouths, they looked at each other, then at the entire room.
Thump—he couldn't imagine anything better than the fulfillment of his secret dreams and desires.
"Your life is in my power, and your heart beats only because of me," Ash smiled, and Ewron knelt in submission.
Dictator and assassin—only they could complete the other's life.