Utopian System

"You wanted a duel, didn't you? Well, you'll have it. Here and now."

Marcus's surprise quickly gave way to arrogance. "Really? You think you can take me? Just what I wanted… Bring it on, peasant."

Without another word, Elio grabbed his spear. His body screamed with exhaustion, every muscle aching from the brutal battle they'd just survived.

In a fluid motion born more of muscle memory than strength, he hurled the spear towards Marcus. The arrogant youth, anticipating the attack, stepped aside with a smug smile.

"Is that all you've got?" Marcus taunted.

But Elio was already in motion, rage made his mind race ahead of his tired body. With a gesture of his hand, the lance changed direction, returning to Marcus from behind.

Marcus, remembering what Kairos had told him, turned to dodge the attack. But Elio had barely recovered 1 mana point since the battle; his gesture was only a feint.

Falling for the feint due to prior information was his mistake.

When he looked forward again, Elio was already there, closing the distance his exhausted legs shouldn't have allowed. His hand, covered in metal from the fight against the monsters and out of habit due to his constant practice with the magnetism ability, connected with Marcus's jaw in a devastating blow.

Marcus Resistance: 27

The crack echoed across the wall.

Marcus fell to the ground, stunned. The resistance and defense of the max-level armor he wore were useless on his exposed face. Before he could recover, Elio used magnetism with his last point, pulling the spear towards Marcus's neck, pinning him to the ground.

Marcus grabbed the spear, struggling to prevent it from choking him. But his face was defenseless against the rain of blows Elio began to unleash upon him.

Marcus Resistance: 24… 21… 18…

Each impact resounded with the force of 3 people behind it, the intense dull sound alerting all the surrounding soldiers to the brutality unfolding before them.

Each punch was a release for Elio, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. He struck with all the force of his pain, his guilt, his frustration. In Marcus, he saw all his failures, all the lives he hadn't been able to save.

Marcus Resistance: 15

"This is for Erin!" he shouted, his fist connecting with Marcus's face. "For Koda! For every soldier who died while you mocked their efforts!"

Marcus Resistance: 12

The blows kept falling, relentless. Marcus had stopped fighting, his body limp under Elio's assault. But Elio couldn't stop. Each blow was a catharsis, a way to expel the pain consuming him.

"Elio! Stop!" Zara's voice seemed to come from far away, barely penetrating the fog of rage and grief. "You're going to kill him!"

Marcus Resistance: 9

But Elio wasn't listening. He was lost in his own world of pain and rage. He kept hitting, his knuckles bleeding, mixing with Marcus's blood.

Marcus Resistance: 6… 3…

Finally, it took Kriz, Brok, and Ren to pull him off Marcus. Elio fought against them, his body shaking with adrenaline and pent-up emotion.

"Let me go!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "He deserves it! Everyone in the families deserves...!"

But his friends held him tightly, pulling him away from Marcus's unconscious body. Elio couldn't finish; Von Lucien's face, who also belonged to the families, flashed through his mind. Even Varick was...

Gradually, the rage began to dissipate, giving way to a deep, crushing sadness. Elio collapsed in his friends' arms, tears finally flowing freely.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, his body shaking uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't save them. I couldn't..."

Zara hugged him tightly, her own tears mixing with Elio's. "It's not your fault," she whispered. "Please understand, it's not your fault..."

Kriz, Brok, Micah, and Ren joined the hug, forming a protective circle around their friend. There was no need for words; their presence was enough.

Varick observed the scene from a distance, his expression indecipherable. For a moment, it seemed he was going to approach, but then he stopped, turning to look at where Erin and Koda's bodies had been, a flicker of something - perhaps regret, perhaps understanding - crossing his face.

As guards moved to apprehend Elio for attacking a families member, Varick intercepted them. "Stand down," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "I take full responsibility for this... incident. No action against Elio is necessary."

♢♢♢♢

The guards took care of Marcus after being told off by Varick, taking him to the resting room in the central building. News of the confrontation would spread quickly, but at that moment, no one cared.

Gradually, Elio began to calm down. He gently pulled away from his friends, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I... I don't know what came over me."

Elio remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the horizon where his comrades' bodies had disappeared. The adrenaline from the fight with Marcus had dissipated, leaving behind a void that threatened to consume him.

Zara, who had stayed by his side, watched him with concern. She could feel the storm of emotions brewing inside her friend, but didn't know how to help him.

"Elio," she began softly, "do you want to talk?"

Elio remained silent for a long moment before responding. "I don't know what to say, Zara. I... I can't..."

His voice broke, unable to continue. Zara stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of support.

"It's okay not to know what to say," Micah murmured. "Sometimes, we just need someone to be there."

Elio nodded, but even with friends by his side, he felt alone, lost in a sea of emotions he couldn't name.

"My father," Elio began, his voice barely a whisper, "he... he died in a situation similar to the soldiers today. Today we all stood our ground defending someone else."

Elio looked at the city as he said these words. Zara held her breath, surprised by the sudden confession. She knew that the topic of Elio's father was sensitive, something he rarely mentioned.

"He must have been a brave man," she said cautiously.

Elio let out a bitter laugh. "Brave... Yes, I suppose so. But what good did his bravery do? He left his family alone, struggling to survive."

The resentment in his voice was palpable, a wound that had never fully healed and had now reopened.

"Elio," Micah spoke softly, "your father did what he believed was right. Just like you're doing now."

Elio tensed at the comparison. "I'm not like him," he whispered. "I wouldn't abandon my family for..."

He stopped abruptly, the words stuck in his throat. Because deep down, he knew it wasn't true.

He had not only risked his life today, but that day he tried to save a soldier, just as his father had done. The realization that he had overlooked something so obvious hit him hard, leaving him breathless.

"Oh, Elio," Zara wrapped him in a hug, feeling how he trembled. "It's okay. It's okay to be who you are, you don't need to be angry..."

Her words echoed in Elio's mind. He'd said something similar to her once, when she'd doubted herself. Now, hearing them reflected back, he felt the full weight of his own impudence.

Elio wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to release all the emotion he had been holding back for so long. But the tears wouldn't come. It was as if a part of him still refused to accept the truth, to recognize his father's sacrifice and his own reflection in those actions.

♢♢♢♢

Hours later, Elio and his team were summoned to Von Lucien's office. The Summoner greeted them with a grave expression.

"Good work today," Lucien began, his voice heavy with fatigue. "Your squad was one of the best performers."

"Thank you, sir," Elio replied. "But... What's the final tally?"

Lucien sighed heavily before responding. "2,415 casualties in total around the wall in a single day. The worst loss we've had in our 100 years."

The number hit Elio like a punch to the gut. 2,415 lives. 2,415 shattered families.

"Damn it," Kriz muttered, his usual joviality completely absent. "So many lives..."

Zara moved closer to Elio, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault," she said softly.

Elio nodded mechanically, but the words of comfort rang hollow in his ears. He had promised them safety with his new "technique", and each death weighed on his conscience.

"Sir," Elio said, gathering courage. "What's really happening? The Locus were more resilient, the barrier needed reinforcement..."

Lucien stared at him for a moment, seeming to make a decision before responding. "We're investigating, Elio. For now, all I can tell you is to be prepared. I fear this is only the beginning."

As they left Lucien's office, Elio exchanged glances with his team. They didn't need words to communicate what they were all thinking: difficult times were ahead.

♢♢♢♢

Lucien burst into Mordred's office, his eyes burning with fury. The elder barely had time to look up from his documents before Lucien slammed both hands on the desk.

"How could you do this?!" Lucien roared, his voice trembling with contained rage.

Mordred leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of forced calm. "Lucien, I see that now even my office is the target of your transgressions. What is the meaning of this intrusion? There are protocols to follow, even in times of crisis."

"To hell with protocols!" Lucien snapped. "Over 2,000 soldiers dead, Mordred. 2,000! Including more than 1,000 level 3s that took so much effort to train."

Mordred frowned, feigning concern. "It's regrettable, of course, but casualties are a reality in our situation."

Lucien let out a bitter laugh. "Regrettable? Three monsters entered the city, Mordred. They killed 43 civilians before we could stop them. 43 innocents!"

"Lower your voice, Lucien," Mordred warned, his tone turning cold. "You're forgetting your place."

"My place is to protect this city!" Lucien shouted. "Something you've clearly forgotten. How much, Mordred? How much mana did you reduce from the turrets?"

Mordred rose slowly, his eyes narrowed. "Be careful with your accusations, boy. I won't tolerate insubordination, not even from you."

"I'm not asking for your tolerance!" Lucien retorted. "I demand answers! Thousands are dying, Mordred. All for what? For a few cores? You could do it at a more sustainable pace!"

"Enough!" Mordred roared, slamming the desk. "How dare you question our decisions? You, who boasted that your defense and management would be better! Where is that efficiency you promised, Lucien?"

Lucien recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "Are you blaming me? After you sabotaged the turrets?"

"No one has sabotaged anything," Mordred responded with disdain. "Your accusations are unfounded and dangerous, Lucien. I suggest you reconsider your position."

"My position is clear," Lucien growled. "I demand to know how much mana you reduced."

Mordred approached Lucien, his voice a threatening whisper. "There's nothing to know, because there has been no reduction. And I warn you, Lucien, if you continue down this path, you might find yourself in a... less favorable position."

Before Lucien could respond, the door opened. Another Summoner named Varen entered with a determined step.

"What's going on here?"

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