Moon Theory (ABO)Ch68 - nightfall, keep running

“You’re avoiding him,” says the beautiful brunette. “Why?”

They trek downhill in a silent night. The soil crumbles beneath their shoes. Allaire is taking languid steps forward, slow and unhurried. Her clothes rustle gently along with the wind. Twilight brings a sense of lull, the crescent moon illuminating the two travelers in soft flaxen hues. OFo0NL

The woman is dressed in a silk blouse and an equally as elegant trench coat. Beside her, the silver-haired companion dons a plain white shirt, plain black jacket and an equally as inconspicuous backpack. The simplicity of his style hardly deters from his grace, however. Noah is no less eye-catching – wispy bangs, long lashes, neat brows, features that would draw attention from continents away.

He could be picked apart from billions of people – though in retrospect, the planet has but a few tens of millions left.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

“You’ve called me out to interrogate me?” he asks though there isn’t bite in his words. There is certain pleasantry in the way he speaks, his timbre melodic enough to match the night.

“I am only having a conversation while spending quality with you, little Noah,” the woman teases. “And I am simply curious why you refuse to be in the vicinity of that person you like.” 4pf1RL

Noah rubs his hands together for warmth. “…I dislike Colonel Yang.”

“That is right,” comes the knowing reply. “But you like Yang Rong.”

There is no response to that statement, but the quietude only serves as confirmation. Noah himself can neither affirm nor deny. The thought is irrational, really, because he cannot pinpoint any specifics as to why he’d even want to be associated with the calloused alpha.

Perhaps, for all Yang Rong’s bumbling tomfoolery, for all his aggressiveness and subsequent narcissism… Once in a star-specked night, in front of flickering flames and copper-hued candles, the man displays qualities less befitting of his alpha status and more—

“We’ve agreed to part,” Noah says. “There will be no such attachments.”

“I’ll tell you what, my dear,” the beautiful woman says with a grin. Allaire leans over, conspiratorially, as if sharing a deep secret for him to hear alone. Her breaths gloss over the coldness of his ears. “That man is a fool. He wouldn’t know left from right, let alone forward. But I can say with certainty that if you give him a peck on the cheek, he’d follow you to the end of the globe. Give him a kiss and he’d follow you to outer space.”

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

“He is not a good person.”

“Lf lrc’a.” Ciijlgf jugffr ktbiftfjgafvis. “Pa lr bcis agjulm atja sbe tjnf yfmbwf jaajmtfv, ws ilaaif Rbjt.” PUdS4o

Ktfs qjrr atgbeut atf ojwliljg qjat klat fjrf. Rbjt mjc wjq bea atf fcalgf jgfj lc atf yjmx bo tlr wlcv, mjc beailcf fnfgs aklra jcv aegc, fnfgs rwjii vlq bc atf gbjv. Lf tjr ilnfv tfgf obg j vfmjvf, joafg jii.

He can also spot peculiarities along the way, like the additional marks engraved onto dark soil, the uniform shoeprints that trail downhill. There is never this much activity out here in the slums, and when the prints amass in the dozens further ahead, Noah’s features are already settled in concern.

Concern turns to dread soon enough when the wind carries with it a familiar copper scent.

“Allaire—” he tries to say, but the beautiful woman is already making a mad scramble toward her home. PYk9Rm

—

The shelter reeks of blood.

And unbeknownst to himself, Noah is flickering his eyes from the entranceway to the reception desk, scanning past crimson dribbles, slobs of viscera, grotesque streaks of post-mortem remains. Alongside the toppled tables and chairs are the mangled bodies of half-morphed humans (they were guests, and Noah remembers speaking to a few of them earlier this morning).

As the hanging bells chime erratically in motion, Noah remains frozen. wiJIpH

There are dozens of soldiers clad in black, equipped with firearms that are much too destructive to be in this dainty home. They seem to be shouting something, though none of their words register in his numbness. Allaire has left his side to be with her lover. Noah could hardly take a glimpse at the young man’s battered body.

He thinks he would yell or perhaps cry out, but Noah remains utterly silent.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

Five meters away, by the mahogany desk, stands the poised General Xie – unsurprising, for all Noah ever associates with the man is absolute indifference. Raven-black hair, cold eyes, an upright posture that stays resplendent in his right. The general has the sort of magnificence that reminds Noah so much of…

Colonel Yang is but an arm’s width away. How suiting – the two of them, general and colonel, donned in the clothes the same shade of black. And if Noah were more aware, he’d even introspect on the similar color of their hair. dwDCl8

Inwardly, he chuckles.

He has an urge to laugh bitterly because of course it has come to this – two military men, fully armed, who’ve come to take away the last of his sanity, their eyes trained to only carry emotionless pursuits, their presence as harrowing as the bloodied backdrop.

Noah is pulled into cardiac arrest because his body simply cannot function. He should run, perhaps, but his legs feel so rooted and his mind so stripped of everything rational. He should yell out loud, march up to the two of them and let out his anger, his bitterness, perhaps.

Yet, when he looks into a pair of undecipherable green eyes, he cannot muster any hatred whatsoever. If he looks any longer, he thinks he will break. iahW7C

Detachment comes after waves of frenzy and then he is simply locked in place. He must be making some sort of expression for Colonel Yang to look so abnormally aggrieved – but nevermind, he may have guessed incorrectly, for the colonel’s never one to let any inkling of vulnerability show on that hardened façade.

When General Xie points the rifle at him, Noah is hit with sudden epilepsy.

The scene is as distorted as it is now, but instead of copper candles and dull sepia lights, he was drenched in navy blue skies. There were two of them in a wrung-out night and there was a heavy metallic scent that came from a mangled corpse beneath him. Noah’s hands were small, but his claws were sharp enough to pierce the chest of a beautiful blonde woman.

Where her corpse lay, millions of carnations bloomed. Her hair was some shade between white and yellow, an unnatural color that didn’t exactly go well with her beastly form – sanguine fangs in lieu of teeth, protruding ears that had migrated to the base of her skull, a strange tail covered in white fur. Her appearance was too crazed to be considered human. She would be hardly recognizable if not her for bright blue eyes which stayed just as radiant after death. RyelV9

She was beautiful still and he, the child next to her, had shakingly touched her colorless hands. Noah was a sight to pity – his heteroclite eyes widened in shock and turmoil, his tear-streaked cheeks chaffed by the wind.

And the raven-haired man who stood in front of them could not bear to witness.

With dark eyes that brimmed with anger and despair – in retrospect, that was the last time Noah’s seen any sort of emotion on his face – the man raised his gun. The muzzle of it was dangerously close to the side of his head, right by his newly formed ears. A monstrous thing Noah was with his slit pupils and pointed fangs.

“Leave,” the man said. “Do not let me find you.” QMjA3O

He left.

And now, present time, Noah is subjected to the same scene. General Xie points a gun at his head, and Noah leaves just the same.

The wind breaks as he sprints past barren roads and stripped-down trees. Noah runs as quickly as his legs could allow, except he’s dangerously close to teetering downward. He has no direction in mind – he has nothing in mind, really, and all he knows is he needs to get away.

He may have passed a few soldiers on the way. Perhaps his current appearance is uncanny, for they immediately gave chase, their guns armed and their sights trained behind his back. There is excruciating pain that twists up his scalp, and all he hears is loud ringing. Everything is muted – the sound of his shoes tramping on mud, the sound of beastly growls, wind howls, his throbbing heartbeat. yVrNjz

He gets shot – though Noah is too damaged to feel.

He wasn’t even aware of when he had grabbed the soldier by the throat and sunk his claws midriff, snapping through ribs and tearing apart slobs of flesh. Drowned by unquelled craze and the constant ringing of his head, his ears, his entire trembling body, Noah functions on autopilot. He doesn’t snap out of delirium.

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Until a certain black-haired man drops to the ground next to him.

Under dim moonlight, Yang Rong’s features are encased in grief. There are red streaks that run from his forehead down to his cheek and he has zero semblance of composure. Ironic that the colonel looks more broken than he, and Noah thinks it simply is unfair. 5SXTLJ

A hand was extended out so as to touch him, and Noah flinches backward – he would have recoiled more strongly if not for the pain rendering him immobile.

He tries to stare at Yang Rong with every ounce of apathy, but Noah knows for a fact that his countenance has broken into utter sorrow.

“Colonel Yang,” he whispers. “I absolutely despise you.”

Yet, when he looks into a pair of pain-stricken green eyes, he cannot muster any hatred whatsoever. WZLp6D