Rune System: The Crimson Knight

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Mr. Craig,” Ryan huffed as he ran towards the befuddled man, who was still gawking at the white-haired stranger. Hurling an accusing finger at Draàl, he said, “This homeless man just showed up from nowhere and threatened me at my desk. Then he started beating the security up for no reason. Luckily, sir, we were just about to throw him out before you arrived. So there’s nothing to worry—”

“Shut up.”

Michael Craig’s voice was so subtle that Ryan had to lean closer. “What was that, sir?”

“Shut up!” he roared as he wheeled towards the receptionist with a furious scowl. “Do you know who this is? Have you the slightest idea of what this man is capable of?”

Ryan’s puzzled eyes shifted to Draàl. “You mean the homeless guy?”

With a foreboding glare, Michael took a step towards Ryan, who cowered back in fear. “If you call him homeless one more time, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your insignificant, short life on the streets. Now, get lost.”

As Ryan shrank away with sweaty brows, Michael turned back to Draàl, who inclined his head towards the retreating receptionist.

“That man shouldn’t be at the front desk. He’s too judgmental to be the welcoming face of your company.”

Michael grimaced. “And to think I was going to promote him a few weeks from now. I’ll make sure of his dismissal. Or demotion.”

Draàl nodded, turning to the mother and son, who were on their feet and clasping themselves like they were in the middle of a hurricane. “This woman… I don’t care what her offense was. That was no way to treat a woman and her child. Your men deserved what they went through.”

“Understandably so, my lord,” Michael agreed without hesitation. He snapped his fingers at the guards who were still assembled in their strike formation. “Get these fools off the ground and take this woman back to her quarters, she’ll resume her duties tomorrow. See to it that her son gets some medical attention as well.”

As the men reluctantly moved to carry out their boss’s orders, Draàl turned to Michael with the most subtle hint of astonishment.

Did he just say “my lord”?

“Yes, he did,” Zha’irah said, replying to his thoughts. “He recognizes you as such. You are the Queen’s herald, her right-hand general. The title, therefore, is rather befitting.”

“So, he knows?” Draàl inquired internally, deciding to keep the conversation going in his mind. “About the Dark Queen and all that?”

“Of course. There are humans who are aware of her existence, many of whom long for her return. By obligation, they are meant to assist the Crimson Knight in whatever way they can, to ensure the completion of his mission. For wealthy individuals like Michael Craig, the entirety of his resources will be graciously donated to your cause.”

Draàl brows knitted. “He said the Crimson Knight has returned, which implies the existence of a former herald. What happened to him?”

“All will be revealed in due time,” Zha’irah hummed. “For now, focus on getting what you need from Michael Craig.”

“One more thing,” Draàl pressed. “I was going to set those men ablaze without thinking twice, yet you didn’t stop me. Why’s that?”

Zha’irah paused briefly. “That woman was being framed, Draàl. By a dishonest executive who wished to cover his dubious ways. In addition to being undervalued and underpaid, she was going to be discarded for something she did not indulge in. You stepped in to save her innocence, and that of her child. That is why I did not interfere. Besides, sometimes, a show of power is a necessary act, as it clearly convinced Michael Craig of your true identity.”

As Zha’irah became quiet, Michael faced Draàl with reverence in his stance. “Let me escort you to my office, my lord. We’ve got much to discuss.”

After a lengthy elevator ride to the top floor, Draàl was ushered into a space that seemed more like an extravagant apartment than an office.

The narrow corridor from the entrance branched out into a wide, luxurious room, with a majestic glass desk positioned before gigantic ceiling-to-floor windows on the left. On the right, large, white sofas and bean bags were set up in a circular fashion, with a pool table standing next to the arrangement and an enormous television set installed on the wall. Beyond the relaxation area were double glass doors that led to a section of the roof that bore an elevated helicopter landing pad. Up ahead, set up just opposite the entrance, was an elaborately designed bar, decorated with numerous bottles of wine, beer, and champagne. Aside from the sunlight streaming through the windows, an exorbitant chandelier hanging from the ceiling offered ambient lighting, giving the spacious room more radiance.

Draàl sunk his hands in his pockets, hiding his clenched fists. The man’s “office” was much bigger than the apartment he’d lived in ten years ago.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Michael asked with a nervous laugh. “They say never mix pleasure with business, but all work and no play makes the brain quite muddy. So I had to have the best of both worlds.”

“Interesting,” was all Draàl could utter.

“This way, please.” Michael gestured towards the bar as he walked ahead to prepare a drink. Draàl chose to wander over to the windows overlooking the vast city, observing the hustle below from a terrifying height.

Suddenly struck with a question, he asked, “What’s your story, Mr. Craig?”

Michael, who was busy opening up cabinets at the bar, chuckled lightly. “Well, I was born in here, in Queens, as the oldest of three children. My father, Lucious Craig, who was already a pioneer in the tech industry, started this company with weapons development as his sole aim. Then, as the years went by, one could say he became more sympathetic and decided to delve into medical technology and engineering. Eventually—”

“No, no,” Draàl interrupted, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t mean that story.”

Michael paused at the counter, with two glasses of scotch in his hands. “Then what do you mean, my lord?”

Draàl kept his gaze fixed on the outside world as he inhaled deeply. “You’re rich. You’re powerful. You possess the capacity and resources to rend those below you to shreds, especially the ones you may dislike for whatever reason. Yet you vouch for the Dark Queen’s return, knowing her plans for humanity. I want to know why.”

Michael remained rooted behind the counter for a moment. Then, with a faint smile, he slowly made his way to the windows.

“Over two decades ago, I joined the army,” he began softly. “Unlike my father, I didn’t want to watch the weapons the company made operate from the safety of an oversized desk in a fancy office. I longed to be a firsthand witness to their potential glory. So, I signed up to be on the frontlines. The things I saw were… inexplicably haunting, to say the least. Death, destruction, torment, displacement… these were supposedly part of a normal day in the life of a soldier. Indeed, I got to see how our weapons were being put to use, and it was more than devastating.

“When our base eventually got ambushed by enemy troops, something strange happened. I fought as best as I could, but it wasn’t enough. Most of my friends were slaughtered, and I was struck badly, bleeding to death. It was at that moment, at the brink of my demise, that a power awoke inside me.”

Draàl turned to Michael as he set the drinks on the glass desk. Placing the tips of his fingers on the clear surface, his eyes glowed a bright, neon blue. Then the transparent piece of furniture came to life, with the holographic image of a mechanical gauntlet hovering inches above it. When he reached out and grabbed it, the hologram became solid in his hands, transforming into a large, chrome glove with blue lighting lining around it.

“They call it a Rune System,” Michael continued as he admired his creation. “A latent magical power passed down from previous generations, present yet dormant in most unsuspecting people. When mine activated, I found out I could control and manipulate technology any way I wanted. I could touch a simple rifle and watch it modify itself into an advanced plasma weapon, or a car and it’d become a fully automated vehicle with features that would otherwise take decades to invent.”

Draàl had gotten accustomed to stifling the expression of surprise on his face, so he kept a blank countenance when he asked, “What does this have to do with the Queen?”

“Visions, my lord,” Michael answered. “After I survived and made my way back home, I began to search for answers regarding my ‘condition’. It took a while, considering how hidden they were, but I finally found the explanations I sought. Then the visions came. Violent and strange at first, then with more understanding subsequently. I came to understand the source of my Rune System, and the purpose behind it.”

Draàl raised an eyebrow. “The Queen appeared in your visions?”

“Not exactly. There wasn’t a form, but I could feel her presence when she spoke to me. She told me to prepare, to elevate my company to heights never before achieved, because when the time comes, my wealth and connections will be used to set the path for the return of her herald, the Red General. The Crimson Knight.”

Michael stepped closer to Draàl, his eyes still emitting an unnatural blue glow. “You asked why I vouch for the Queen’s return. Well, I believe she saved my life and gave me a new purpose to work towards. She granted me power beyond my imagination, I mean… what else could I possibly ask for? With my undying loyalty, I hope to be granted a place in her court when you finally free her, my lord.”

Draàl looked down, slowly receiving the gauntlet Michael handed to him.

“A gift,” he explained with a smile. “You’ll find it handy soon. Of course, that won’t be the only thing I’ll be assisting you with on your quest. The question is, what do you need?”

“First off, some shoes would be much appreciated,” Draàl said. Then, as he returned his gaze to the windows, his eyes dilated faintly as the voice in his head uttered a few words.

“A plane,” he declared eventually. “I’ll need a plane to Peru.”