Touch My Brother And You're Dead!!

Chapter Three

Touch My Brother and You Die - Chapter Three

With a slew of thoughts running through my mind, I descended to the annex's basement, then went further down another set of stairs, through a storage room door that led down a secret passageway, down more stairs that led me even further underground, and found myself standing in front of a securely locked door. I closed my eyes.

"My beloved electricity friends."

Abracadabra, transform into magnetism. I placed my finger over the keyhole and carefully turned my hand like a safecracker. Oh, yes, I knew how the locks at the estate worked. Using magnetism to turn the tubular lock was easy as it was made of iron. It was more a question of delicacy. I pressed my ear as tight as possible to the door and slowly turned my hand, listening to each pin fall into place. With a clank, the door opened.

I don't know what you hid here, but you let your guard down, duke! I confidently pushed the door open... and was dumbstruck by the sight before me. Chains, snaking out from all over the walls, met in the center of the room, where they were tightly wrapped around a sword.

The weapon was leaking abnormal magic-that unnatural energy I could feel, but not recall.

"Dear Author, could you... stick to the genre?" I said aloud to no one.

I'd been thinking about this for a while, but I'm tired of having the genre of my story switch back and forth. Isn't this supposed to be a gay romance novel? Isn't this supposed to be a story about men in love? Technically, it's a story about Rion getting reamed. Still, what is all this?

Why did you stick an evil, black magic-esque Excalibur in someone's basement? Are you getting a laugh messing around with me? I really hate it when only the author knows the storyline, you know?

I came to realize that my body is honestly just a throwaway, and it didn't really matter what happened to it. My interest in the magic sword bubbled over, and I headed straight for it. The moment I grabbed the sword, the chains slid off, clinking loudly against the cement floor, and I lost control of my body.

***

Nothing else was in the void but my consciousness. Did I finally actually die? I felt so relaxed. If I could just stop thinking altogether, that would be bliss.

"Identifying user. Not the Contractor."

An artificial voice disturbed my long-awaited peace. I didn't know why, but I knew the sword was talking to me. I really don't know how I knew.

What Contractor?

"The Contractor of this object is Rosalite Roxburg. Once the Contractor's wish is fulfilled, this object will cease to exist."

Oh, I can communicate with this thing without talking. But I'm Rosalite?

"Negative. Rosalite Roxburg died 23,825 days ago as payment for the contract. You are merely a substitute with a soul most analogous to Rosalite Roxburg."

Look at this object, calling me a "substitute." Anyway, when was 23,825 days ago? It seemed like ages had passed. I did a rough calculation, and it came to about sixty-five years, which means that I became Rosalite more than... No, it can't be.

"Affirmative. You were summoned after the death of Rosalite Roxburg, and it has since been 23,825 days in relation to the subjective time flow of this object."

If I had had a body, I probably would have broken out in a cold sweat. The sword was talking about subjective time flow and contract payment. Does that have anything to do with me continuously turning back into sixteen-year-old Rosalite?