The clock spun wildly, drowning out the beasts roar.
Each tick clawed through the haze in his mind, carving a path to something buried deep. The woman was blocking the door, not giving the beasts a chance to go through. Amidst all the chaos, a word flared, it was faint, but it was still there, like a whisper in a storm.
Squinting his eyes, he asked, "W—What's that...?"
It was his name, not the one he wore now, why? Because he doesn't possess any. But this name was different, it was older, it was heavier, it was his.
La—
But it was once again, gone. Confused, he grabbed his clock, clutching it tight. Inside, there was a flicker, in it, was his memory. Or what looks to be one, inside the clock, was a man kneeling in from of a tree, in a dark robe, with his hands shaking.
"Don't forget who you are, even when the world wants you gone." Whispers echoed in his ears.
The memory shattered like glass, but to him, it was enough.
Roar!
The beast roared ferociously, so loud, it could it could almost break the sound barrier.
Feeling a strong sense of self-esteem, he screamed back at the beast.
The woman scoffed, "What are you doing?"
"I—I don't know," he hissed, face red. "It felt appropriate for the moment.
She smiled, "You're waking up."
With a face full of newfound determination, he felt the power of the seed within him awaken, weaving him into the city's breath. The city was alive beneath his skin now, not just light or shadow, something far older, far deeper.
Snarl.
CRASH.
The beast's claws shattered the door, the woman stepped back, the beasts snarled again, eyes burning with forgotten hate.
"Hey, are you ready now?" She asked, unsheathing her sword and readying her self for battle.
He — smiling nervously — was ready for it, "Yeah."
"Great, now we fight."
End of Chapter 5.