Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 126: Ch124. Gears of War

Chapter 126: Ch124. Gears of War

Miles stepped out of the battlefield chamber, his scythe still pulsing with residual energy, his breath slow but steady. The weight of what had just happened pressed against him, though he refused to let it show. His body ached, his mind buzzed, but above all else, there was a strange, unsettling clarity settling over him.

It was not just battle clarity – not the state of flow that would have a fighter in their peak condition during extreme situations.

It was as if, the more Miles looked at Luna Sea’s Master, the more he could perceive some kind of aura around the man.

It was faint at first, but then it became clearer and clearer. Golden, with slight hues of red and orange, swirling around him just like the sparks from which his items materialized themselves.

But before he could say or react to it in any manner, he heard Kurt’s surprised whistle.

Kurt, of course, was already waiting for him. Leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Until he opened his mouth.

"Well, well. Look who’s still got all his limbs!" Kurt drawled, pushing off the wall with exaggerated nonchalance. "I was about to start taking bets on whether you’d walk out of that thing alive, or if the Master would just deliver me your head in a fancy little box."

"And what were the odds?" Miles exhaled sharply, equal parts amusement and exhaustion.

Kurt smirked. "Oh, I bet on you, obviously. Can’t have my only source of entertainment dying on me just yet. But let’s just say... Not everyone had my faith."

Miles rolled his eyes but did not argue. His thoughts were already elsewhere, turning over everything the Master had told him before the fight had ended. He glanced back into the chamber, now looking simply like a small, metallic orb that fluttered in the air, a few feet from the ground, near the Master’s throne, where the masked figure still stood, unchanged by their battle – aside from his torn and tattered coat – as if waiting.

There was still more to learn, so Miles stepped forward again, his voice steady.

"I want you to answer my questions now."

"Ask." The Master inclined his head, the faintest motion of approval.

Miles didn’t hesitate.

"The [Card Soldiers]. Why do you have them? What are they? Where did they come from?"

The Master fell silent for a brief moment, as if considering how much to reveal. But then, with the same measured tone he always spoke in, he answered.

"They were once prototypes of constructs developed to defend our city from the Revenants." He said. "Creations of the Crafters, designed to be the perfect foot soldiers, obedient, efficient, adaptable. They were based on the Revenants’ design, and some even used Revenants as base, but they were never meant to remain here."

"Why? What happened?" Miles narrowed his eyes.

The Master tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the question.

"An outsider came. A woman in red. She waged a war she refused to lose and sought equipment for her army. She sought weapons, so I obliged."

A cold weight settled in Miles’ chest.

"You sold them to her."

The Master did not deny it, simply going on with his explanation.

"I was curious as to how they would perform against more... Natural threats. The experiment had stagnated, and the battlefield offers the truest test for any creation. What better way to evaluate them than to let them be judged under the flames of war?"

Something flickered inside Miles’ mind, like a memory not his own.

Bloodstained gardens. Broken chessboards. The echoes of mechanical war cries as Wonderland burned. The Queen’s soldiers, marching in perfect, merciless rhythm, cutting down resistance with an efficiency that was unnatural.

The Master had given her those soldiers.

"You... You sold those soldiers to the Queen of Hearts, and by doing so... You doomed an entire country to fade away!

A sharp pain flared in his skull. A whisper that was not his own, followed by the voice that escaped his throat, curling around his thoughts like barbed wire.

Murderer.

Miles clenched his jaw, fighting against the sudden surge of emotion that was not entirely his – but was, to a certain extent.

It was like a presence stirring deep within him, after what felt like a long time of deep slumber, ancient and wrathful.

The Hatter.

The name barely formed in his mind before the presence pushed hard against Miles’ thoughts.

He killed them... He armed her... He watched as they died screaming. Women, children, old folk... They all died because of him!

Miles’ fingers twitched against the shaft of his scythe, and his breath felt heavier, his vision edging with red. The hatred spilling into him was palpable, even though it was not his. It was infectious, seeping into the cracks of his own fury.

He could feel the Hatter’s intent, sharp and clear.

Kill him. Make him pay.

His grip on the scythe tightened, but the Master simply watched, impassive, unbothered. As if he had seen this before. As if he had expected it.

Miles closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before doing anything.

Then, he exhaled. Slowly, deliberately.

"No."

The whisper twisted into a snarl.

No?

’No.’ He thought, talking to the Hatter’s voice inside his head. ’We still have to get to the Last Verse, don’t we?’

Silence followed, as if the Hatter decided to wait until Miles was done speaking.

’Good. We made a deal, and you know I keep my promises, even though I dislike them, yes?’

More silence, but this time, heavier. As if considering his words.

’Then I’ll make you another promise. If he doesn’t regret his doing, I’ll kill him myself. Okay?’

More silence followed as the sheer force of Miles’ own will pressed back against the Hatter’s rage.

It was not easy. It felt like pushing against a tidal wave, but his words seemed to have an effect over the Hatter, making him slightly subdued. Even if ever so slightly.

You got yourself another deal, but be careful, Miles... A person can only make so many promises before they stop being theirs to keep.

The presence recoiled, not gone, but retreating. If only for now.

Miles opened his eyes again. His hands had steadied, and his mind was clear.

"Impressive." The Master observed him, silent, unreadable as ever.

Miles did not acknowledge the comment. He just took another breath, forcing the last remnants of the Hatter’s anger further into the back of his mind. There were still more questions, still more to learn, and the past could not be undone.

But the future... That was still his to decide.