"Tired," Prota muttered as they walked through the forest.
"We're almost there," John said, but he was getting pretty tired too.
John's physique was strong, but it was only human. It wasn't like there were any special powers or magics boosting his strength or stamina, so after a day of carrying Prota, he was starting to wear down.
"Ugh… I wish I had a car. Even a bike would be better than this…"
"...car? Bike?" Prota said curiously.
"Um… it's like a metal horse," John explained. "But it's not alive."
"Like a golem?"
"No, like a… um, you know what a carriage is?" John said as he knelt down to pick Prota up. "It's like a carriage, but instead of being drawn by a horse, it's propelled by, uh, magic. Yeah."
Prota nodded sleepily on his back.
"Come on. We're almost there."
He didn't want to stop now. A proper bed, a bath, maybe, something other than sleeping in the woods, they were all within grasp. He was tempted to stop, but his desire for proper rest outweighed his desire to stop, even if that meant he had to suffer a little.
To distract himself, he turned his mind to other things. The voices in his head were loud enough to be a good distraction.
For the most part, Prota was just a normal child, albeit abnormally quiet. But those moments. Whenever they needed to talk about something serious, she suddenly developed the maturity of an adult. It wasn't as if she could completely follow him, but she kept up enough that she understood what was going on. He didn't mind it, but it did give him a strange feeling.
Besides that, what about her age? Why had she thought she was six when she was actually eight? Could it just be attributed to the memory of a child, or was there something more? Now that he thought about it, it hadn't been important at the time, but why didn't the demon king know about Anta? So much just didn't make sense. He thought back to what Zero had told him.
The fight with the demon king hadn't really been a climax. Nothing had been resolved. Nothing had been pushed forward.
For him, the story was just beginning, and he wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that.
"Haah… Almost there."
The sun was setting in the distance, providing just enough light to see, but casting enough shadows that one could hide in plain sight easily. It was an eerie blend of darkness and light, like a twilight zone of sorts. The environment was shady enough that John didn't see what was coming next.
"Oh… oh, please, help me!"
John jumped as a haggard figure stumbled out of the trees. The man wore a tattered cloak, and his face and hair were streaked with mud. He looked like he'd been chased by a monster or a wild animal, with desperation in his eyes.
"...what? Who the hell are you?" John frowned.
He stared at the man, and his eyes lit up in recognition.
"Ban- bandits!" the man exclaimed, stumbling forward to grab onto John's hoodie. "Please!"
"You're a bandit?"
There was a look of disgust on John's face as he reached for his weapon.
"Wh- no! I'm being chased! By bandits!"
"So you're telling me you're a bandit."
"Are you deaf?"
Prota tapped John on the head. "Um… I think he's in danger. Bad guys are chasing him."
"Huh? I swear he was trying to say that he's a bandit," John frowned, slowly letting Prota down.
"John, bad guys," Prota repeated.
She tapped his head again as if to make sure it wasn't hollow.
"Yes, yes, the girl gets it! Please, you must be adventurers, right? So please-"
"Ok, it's not funny anymore," John sighed. "No one's playing along. The bit's been overdone."
Whipping out his gun, he put it to the man's head in one swift motion and pulled the trigger. There was a loud crack as blood and brain fluid splattered everywhere, but John didn't even flinch.
"Seriously, this shit is overdone. Did you really think that would work?" John said, wiping the blood off his face. "Actually, I can see how that'd work on anybody else in a story."
Prota stared at him. What? The man was a bandit? How did John know?
Unfortunately, a knife flew out from the trees and landed directly in John's forehead, killing him instantly. There would be no answer to her question.
"John!" Prota cried out, falling to the ground as John's body fell, dead. "John!"
Another knife flew out from the trees and pierced her heart, shredding it to bits. She tried to cry out but couldn't as blood filled her lungs, and her vision grew dark.
~~~
"...!"
Prota sat up, gasping, but calmed down as she realized she was fine. She could still feel the knife in her chest, but no matter how much she felt it, there was nothing there. The ghost of the wound slowly faded from her mind.
"Feels weird, doesn't it?" she heard John say.
She looked to her right to see John sitting on what she could only assume was a floor.
"[Reset]. You'll probably get used to it. Eventually- uh. Hopefully."
In her panic, she'd completely forgotten that they had the ability to literally reset everything. It was a fair thing to do, though. After all, the body was ingrained with the idea that one needed to survive, because there were no second chances.
For others, at least.
"...?"
"Huh? What's up?" John turned around and looked at Prota.
Her head was cocked to the side. What was she confused about?
"What… How did John die?"
Prota was terribly confused. It wasn't like there was a need for John to hide his strength, right? Why didn't he just defeat them?
"What? It's not like it's an issue if I die, right? It's fine. I'm used to it. There's no reason to try and survive when I can just come back."
…huh?
John was used to this? The first time they'd reset, she'd been under the impression that this was a last resort John used. After their talk, she was sure that he hated resetting, but… it was something he used like an everyday ability? He spoke as if someone has just asked him why he ate, or slept. This strange feeling. Dying, coming back… he was used to this? How many times had he died for him to get used to something like this?
She thought she'd figured him out, but it seemed there was a lot more to this than she could've ever imagined.
"...John. Are- is John ok?"
"Me? What? Why would I not be ok? This is the second time you've asked that. Prota, come on. I told you to just worry about yourself," John sighed.
"...how many times?" Prota said softly. John was looking away from her, so she couldn't see his face.
"Huh?"
"Reset? How many times did John…"
"Oh, how many times did I reset?"
There was a brief pause.
"No clue."
He didn't know? How many times had he died that he'd lost count?
"A hundred?" Prota said hesitantly. "A thousand? T-ten thousand?"
To her surprise, John laughed.
"Ten thousand? That's a pretty small number. A million, maybe…?"
"M-million?"
John shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not counting. It could be more. Who knows?"
He turned around, and to Prota's surprise, his face looked normal. Well, if you could call those empty eyes of his "normal" in the first place. She'd been expecting him to look tired, depressed, but that casual smile continued to rest on his face. He was clearly unshaken by this who series of events.
"Prota. You're new to this, so it might seem strange, but really, don't worry about it. It might've taken me a while to get used to this, but I'm here to walk you through it. I told you, didn't I? You won't become like me."
Despite his words, there was an uneasy feeling in her heart. It just didn't feel right. The feeling that she needed to help him somehow grew stronger.
"Anyway, are you ok?" John asked, changing the subject.
Prota nodded. Then she paused and thought for a bit.
"How did John know?" she asked after a brief silence.
"Know? Know what?"
"That man. How did you know he was a bad man?"
John shrugged. "I didn't."
Prota just stared at him.
"What?"
She looked at him carefully, but… he wasn't being sarcastic. He wasn't joking. He really didn't see the issue with what he'd just done.
"What if he wasn't a bad man? What if he needed help?" Prota said nervously.
"Well, if nothing had happened… I'd kill myself, I guess?"
Prota's eyes shot open. He'd do what now?
"Listen, Prota, I told you. You get used to death. Really, I'm not sure if I'd have turned out differently if this was reality, but… think about it. He's just a [Character], so if he dies, is it that big of a deal? Besides, I can always just bring him back. It's not that deep."
Prota felt a shiver run down her spine. This was how John thought?
The more she thought about it, though, the more she could understand his point of view. If the man he'd killed wasn't a bandit, then he could always [Reset] and not kill him. The fundamental of a [Reset] was that "everything goes back as if nothing had ever happened in the first place." Yes, it removed any accomplishments you might achieve. But at the same time, there was the benefit of removing any negative consequences you might also incur.
It was a double-edged sword, and both sides were cutting away at John's humanity.
But still, to consider killing a man as efficient. It wasn't like John was a cold-hearted killer, and it wasn't like he enjoyed the suffering of others. At least, Prota didn't think of him that way. And, if she considered what John had told her about the world, it made sense.
Like he said, it wasn't that deep. Then again, there was probably very little he took seriously in the first place.
Still, there was something incredibly uncanny about what she'd just seen with her own eyes.
"Well, I mean, I made an educated guess. It's not like I just flipped a coin and shot the guy, there were hints, but… well it's whatever. You want me to stop?"
Prota shook her head. "No, John is… I'm ok."
"Really?" John stared at her. "You sure?"
Prota nodded.
John breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that's helpful. Anyways, I hope you can beat those bandits, cause otherwise, we're going to be stuck here for a long time."
Prota cocked her head to the side. What? She'd seen John go toe to toe with a Demon Lord. How could he possibly have trouble with some bandits? She just remembered that he hadn't really answered her question from earlier.
"Can't John just beat the bad guys up?" Prota said. "John is really strong, right?"
"Prota. I'm- oh, well… yeah, if you saw me fight like that, I guess that makes sense. Prota. I'm not strong, ok? I'm, well, kind of weak. Really weak."
Prota cocked her head to the side.
What?
"Are you thinking about my fight with the demon king?" John said with a small smile. "That was an outlier."
"...outlier?"
"You saw my [Character Profile], right? Did you see an ability called [Infinity]?"
Prota thought back. Now that she thought about it, she did remember seeing something like that, although there had been so many other things that she might've remembered wrong.
"[Infinity] is the name of the ability you saw me use earlier. Unfortunately, there's a little rat that made it incredibly hard to use."
He stood up and started pacing back and forth, and Prota's heart sank. She'd come to learn that a long explanation was coming up whenever he started pacing.
"Prota. Do you remember what I told you about [Writer]?"
Prota nodded. She didn't really, but she probably remembered enough.
"A [Writer] is a god of sorts, right? So if I'm part [Writer], would I not be part god?"
Again, Prota nodded.
"Technically, [Infinity] is a lock, not a power. From what I've heard, I'm usually just, like, always overpowered. That fight with Diaboli? That was me being weak. [Infinity] is the full extent of my power. Now, though, I can only use fractions of said power. See, if I do this…"
He tapped the side of his head, and his red eye began to glow a bit.
"Power: x2"
He looked at Prota. "I'm now a bit stronger, faster, whatever. Two isn't an actual multiplier, by the way. I'm not two times stronger now. And right now, this multiplier only goes up to a thousand."
"Thousand? Why only one thousand?"
"After that, well… my head explodes."
Prota instinctively moved back a bit. His head was going to explode?
"I mean, long answer short, a [Character] being this strong isn't, uh, healthy for the [Plot]. I'm just being punished for something that wasn't my fault in the first place. Anyway, if I try to go past a thousand, my head can't handle the pain anymore, and it shuts down."
He looked at Prota, who was shaking a little.
"Oh. Did you think I meant my head would actually explode?" He laughed. "No, no, don't worry about that. I'll just drop dead on the spot. It'd be kinda funny if it did explode, though."
As if that was any better. Prota didn't really see how that was funny, but John went on anyway.
"Anyways, my ability would be useless without another of my abilities, [Determination]. Basically, [Determination] acts as a painkiller. The more emotion I feel, the less pain I feel. Since I'm not feeling as much pain, my brain won't shut down, and I can use more power. Does that make sense?"
Prota nodded. To her relief, it hadn't been too complicated an explanation.
"Honestly, it's a terrible ability. It feels like some kind of self-insert power fantasy, something some twelve-year-old going through a phase would make. Just some overpowered ability that was never thought through properly," John grumbled. "But… well, it helps a lot, so I can't complain."
Prota nodded again, but as she thought about it, something clicked.
"John said [Determination] increases with… emotion?"
"Ah. So you see the obvious issue."
John. Someone who, at best, displayed brief flashes of emotion before putting on a mask to cover up the emptiness inside. The fake emotions he displayed didn't count towards [Determination]. So, if [Determination] allowed John to use his ability, and if he could never activate [Determination], then…
"It's a lock for a reason. What am I supposed to do? Nothing, I guess." He crouched down and put his hand on Prota's head. "I wasn't kidding when I said I need you to be my protector, you know?"
He turned around to press the [Reset] button and, in doing so, missed the twitch of Prota's lips.
"Protector…" she whispered to herself. John hadn't forgotten.
She would keep going, no matter what.
~~~
"Please, help me!" the man whimpered, clinging to John.
"God, it's like a cutscene before a boss fight," he groaned. "Am I going to have to listen to this every time we die?"
"Wh- what are you saying?"
John sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Just get on with it."
Like before, John whipped out his pistol and fired, immediately killing the man. He counted to three, then ducked just in time for a knife to fly over his head. The same knife that had killed him last time.
Seeing that the surprise attack hadn't worked, half a dozen men came out from behind the trees, all wielding weapons of various types. They all looked somewhat strong, but…
"If they were important, they would introduce themselves first," John muttered. "Probably. Prota, do whatever you want."
He sat down on the ground and pulled out a book, completely ignoring the bandits around him.
"Wh- what the?" the bandits frowned, but they didn't have time to question it as Prota went on the attack.
She'd been killed once by them. It was clear what John was asking her to do. She wouldn't lose anyone again.
Her sleepy eyes shot wide open as she formed a fireball in each hand and immediately flung them into the woods. The enemies easily dodged, but they were now on their toes.
"...no mana enhancement?" John frowned. "Jinae didn't teach something as simple as that?"
He'd need to find a teacher. He himself didn't know how to use magic. At least, not in this world he didn't. He'd need to find a teacher, one more competent than he, and that wasn't hard to do.
"Hah!" Prota grunted, firing off a volley of icicles.
They hit the trees with a thudding sound, causing splinters to fly off into the air, but again, she failed to hit any of her opponents.
Her breath was starting to get haggard as she used more and more magic. Instinctively, she could feel her mana reserves getting low. If what Jinae had taught her was all correct, this meant that she was running out of mana. She barely used any magic at all. Seriously? She got exhausted this quickly?
"Haah… hah…" she took her staff into her hands and extracted mana from it, replenishing her mana. It was then that she realized something, something she had yet to experience fully.
Her mana usage affected her physical strength as well. Just like using your muscles took energy, so did mana. Even if you had the largest mana core in the world, if your body wasn't up to par, you wouldn't be able to keep up. That was what Prota was going through. Even though her core was full at the moment, it didn't matter.
She couldn't hold out any longer. She had a strong fighting spirit, but that wasn't enough to overcome the limits of her body. She collapsed, and the bandits didn't waste any time taking the opportunity to get rid of their opponent.
"You're quite the heartless bastard, aren't you?" one of the bandits said to John, who had looked up from his book.
"Me?" John shrugged. "Yeah. Your point?"
"Hah. You're crazy, aren't you?"
"Maybe?"
"Doesn't look like you're a fighter since you didn't get involved."
"Nope."
"So you know we're gonna kill you."
"Can you get on with it? I don't really want to wait around. You want me to kill myself? I can spare you all the trouble. She's gonna kill you eventually, you know."
The bandit burst out laughing. "Yeah? I'd like to see-"
He was cut off as John whipped out his gun and fired, putting a bullet right through his head. Normally, the attack would've been dodged, but with his guard down, the bandit hadn't even reacted.
"What the- get him!" the other bandits shouted, all rushing him at once.
John didn't wait for them and put the gun to his own head.
~~~
"Haah… back again."
John sighed as he sat up in the dark room once again. He looked around and saw that Prota was also sitting up at the same time as him, as if she, too, was just waking up.
"...Prota?" John asked hesitantly.
She seemed to be a bit disoriented, so he left her alone. Eventually, she noticed him and cocked her head to the side.
"Hey, how long were you here for?"
"Here…? I… woke up," Prota said.
"You just woke up?"
Prota nodded.
"...is time in this place synced to my death?"
John shook his head. That wasn't really important.
"Prota. Are you sure you're ok? I can… uh, well, I can try to deal with the bandits, but…"
Prota shook her head. "Nn. I'm ok."
"Hey. Are you sure? I mean, really sure. You're not nearly as experienced as me. I can deal with this. You…"
She shook her head again.
"Mm. I… I can do it. I am strong," she said, telling this to herself as much as she was saying it to John. "Strong."
"...tell me if it gets too hard, ok?" John said.
He was a little worried. While real combat was the best kind of training, dying over and over had serious effects on one's mind. He'd been lucky. Being forced into these circumstances could've broken him, but it hadn't. And now, here he was, abusing this power to its fullest potential. Hell, he'd killed himself over things like losing a game of cards.
Prota wasn't him, though. He didn't know if she could take it. While he'd been telling the truth about being weak, there were a plethora of solutions to this problem, all of which wouldn't take too much work. Sure, he'd remove the element of progression and struggle, but he didn't care about things like that.
If it stopped her from breaking, it'd be worth it.
"Is she ok?" he asked Zero.
The soul was nowhere to be seen, but John knew he was always around.
"She's a kid shooting fireballs from her hands. It's fiction, John."
"Yeah, but she doesn't fully realize that yet. Would you still be sane?"
John looked at Prota one more time. Wasn't she just a [Character]? Why did he care so much?
Those questions plagued him every day. Why did he care? Why was he trying to help her? She wasn't real. Ultimately, he'd… no, it was better not to think about that for now. That would come when it came.
Take each day on its own. John didn't need to care about the past or the future. He would deal with things as they happened.
"Prota," he said one more time. "Are you really sure?"
"I'm gonna protect John," Prota said, determination in her eyes.
John closed his eyes and sighed. "Not giving up yet, huh? Alright. Fine."
He turned around and slammed the reset button.
"Fuck it. Let's go."
The room was enveloped in white light.