Maids VS Apocalypse

The Sun is cruel. The Sun is ruthless. The Sun is a monster that takes the lives of the innocent.

It started with tales told by my mother, ones meant to keep me from staying awake when bedtime came. The church was no different. Its stories centered around the Sun and its evils, and how only the Benevolent Moon could protect us from it.

As I grew older, I came to learn there was some truth to those tales, and eventually, I found myself facing them.

All my life I feared the sun. I feared the light of the day and dreaded the time I would be forced to stand under it. That time came and went, and after hundreds of battles and countless monsters slain, I found myself having doubts.

The Sun was ruthless and cruel, the mother of beasts that only knew blood and slaughter. It brought nothing but death and horror, but in spite of all of it, I found myself longing for the warmth it exuded.

There were days when no beasts showed at our doors. With no battles to be fought, our time is spent guarding the entrance. Most loathed the task, and so did I for a long time. I came to tolerate it after a while, and at one point I found myself awaiting the chance to stand at the precipice of the watch tower.

Under the sun, the world appeared vast and endless. The mountains in the distance could be seen with ease, and the forests under them didn’t blend in with the darkness. The sky was a light shade of blue, the colors were more vibrant, and everything always seemed... alive.

I was aware of the seed slowly sprouting in the depths of my mind. A blasphemous thought that grew louder and more pronounced each time I experienced the peacefulness of the day during the night.

Was the Sun truly evil? Why did its spawn only chase after my people?

If the Sun was truly evil, why do I feel such longing for its light? Its warmth?

The Moon was our protector, our savior. Her benevolence was what helped us fight and survive. She was the deity whom we would have perished without, yet whenever I gazed up at her, all I could think of was how dim her light was, and how cold the nights under its rule were.

~[ ]~

The gray ceiling gradually came into focus and the gentle swaying signaled that everything was moving. Mark’s thoughts loitered before he understood that he had returned to the real world.

’... a dream...’

He didn’t dare to move, afraid that he would forget all about it. His attempts ended in failure and most of the details faded from his memory, leaving only foggy images and remnants of the thoughts that filled his mind as he slept.

In an attempt to steer up his memory, Mark grabbed his imaginary controller, pressed the Start Button, and entered his status screen. He noticed that his MP was back to 100/100 and that the debuffs he received were gone as well, but that wasn’t what he came to check.

His sights fixed on a single line at the very bottom, right under Force Field in the Abilities section. A few seconds later a new screen appeared.

[Ability: Lunar Arts.

Grade: A

Proficiency: Novice

Description:

A Battle Art practiced by an ancient order of knights.]

’Is this the cause?’

He was clad in full plate armor for most of the dream. Though that appeared to be the only thing linking it with the description of the Ability, Mark had an inkling that there was a lot more to it than that.

The Ability was a strange case in itself. It had appeared without his knowing and he only noticed its presence when checking his stats while Ramsay lectured him in the gun shop. That wasn’t the first time he saw it, however.

"... Lara..."

"Yes?"

The response jolted his mind and he almost jumped up. Mark caught himself in the last moment and slowly moved his gaze up. A pair of ruby irises greeted him, their owner expressionless as she looked down at him.

The two stared at each other for a few silent seconds before Mark finally understood what was happening, the tension leaving his body immediately as a relieved sigh escaped him.

"I didn’t think you would let me do this again."

"Is that so?" The maid paused as if to search for the right words. "I made a promise and I intend to honor it."

With great reluctance, Mark pushed himself up and sat beside her.

"You don’t have to force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No," She shook her head left and right. "It is fine."

"... I see..."

Mark faced forward and sensed the silence built a barrier between them with each passing second. His mind failed to come up with anything to say, leaving him to wonder about the maid’s intentions.

Last time, Lara led with the lap pillow before asking for his blood. The conditions were the same yet Mark couldn’t discern if she was trying to make the same request or if she had something different in mind.

’A vampire’s bite is a sexual act...’

That fact granted an entirely different meaning to the action of supplying blood. For Lara who was entirely opposed to any form of intimate relationship between the two of them, it was no longer something she could tolerate.

’Well, that’s to be expected...’

A girl refusing to engage in those acts with someone she barely knew was both natural and admirable. Mark didn’t fault her for that choice, even if he had to suffer the pain of rejection.

’How do we get over this...’

He feared that the problem would fester the longer he waited, leading to the maid growing resentful as her craving got stronger. There was no solution that didn’t involve her biting him, however, and it felt like he would never find one no matter how much he searched.

’Hold on...’ A light bulb flashed in the depths of Mark’s mind. ’If we do it like this...’

Mark held a hand to his chin and gave the idea some thought. His intense focus drew Lara’s attention and she turned to look at him only to be startled when he suddenly shifted in her direction.

"Lara," He held her gaze, his eyes brimming with determination. "I think I found a solution."