SSS Unknown: Dark Knight's Legacy

As the time went, the tension between then faded.

The more time Alice spent with him, the more she began to see a side of Unknown she hadn't expected. He wasn't the monstrous, untouchable figure she had imagined.

He was just...there. Not saying much, not doing much and was kind of passive.

Yes, his appearance was imposing—his cold, calculating demeanor, the dark armor that seemed to absorb the light around him—but those were just shells. Beneath it, there was something more human. He had made choices, just like she had, for the sake of his own survival.

Alice thought back to all the lives she had taken, the blood spilled in the name of her own goals. 

Her hands were stained, too. Who was she to condemn him for his actions? It would be hypocritical, wouldn't it?

Unknown wasn't a demon. He was a person, a flawed and broken one, much like herself. And maybe that was why she no longer feared him as much.

'Looking back, he's not that scary,' Alice mused, though there was an unfamiliar feeling in her chest as she thought about him. Something that was neither hatred nor fear—just a strange, quiet understanding.

Sympathy.

It was an uncomfortable realization, but it was there.

Her thoughts were clouded with doubt, but the undeniable truth remained: he had saved her. That act alone was enough to shift her perspective, even if she couldn't understand why he had done it.

But as the days passed, questions began to weigh on her more and more.

What had happened to her companions? Were they okay?

Did they manage to defeat the Hydra, or was it still lurking in the depths of the dungeon?

And perhaps the most pressing question of all: What was Unknown's true intention in this place?

Her thoughts spiraled, her gaze dropping in sorrow. The uncertainty gnawed at her, a growing ache that seemed to settle deeper each day.

Despite Unknown's apparent indifference, Alice couldn't shake the feeling that he was capable of understanding others, that he wasn't entirely unreachable. 

He had even demonstrated a capacity for empathy, something she had never expected from someone like him.

She had once believed that Unknown was the kind of man who thought "Empathy made you weaker, more vulnerable."

And she was kind of right.

That empathy, she realized, had led him to make concessions—concessions that had placed him in situations where he could easily be at a disadvantage.

It was as if his own feelings were pulling him in a direction that didn't always serve his goals.

Just then, his voice sliced through the silence, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Are you worried about your comrades?"

Alice didn't hesitate. Her heart weighed heavy with the uncertainty of what had happened to them, but the words came out before she could stop herself.

"Yes, I am. Do you have any information about them?"

Her response was direct, unguarded. Not that she had much of a choice—she needed answers, and he might be the only one who could provide them. Still, a part of her felt vulnerable, exposing her worry so openly.

"No idea. When I saved you from death, the whole thing had concluded," he answered, his voice devoid of any hesitation or falsehood.

Alice's face grew frim and they failed into a silence.

What he told her was the truth.

The moment he saw Alice fall, Unknown had acted without a second thought, rushing to save her from the fatal impact. But he had been too late. She hit the ground, the brutal force of the fall leaving her gravely injured. 

In that instant, everything else faded from his mind as he focused entirely on saving her.

He hadn't had the time to look back, to check whether the Hydra had been dealt with or if it still lived. His priority had been Alice, and that had consumed him.

"Why did you save me?"

The question lingered in his mind, unrelenting. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, the answer slipped through his grasp.

Why had he saved Alice?

Was it guilt for the lives of her comrades, those he had killed without a second thought?

Was it pity? A weakness, perhaps, in the face of someone so small, so fragile?

Or had it been something more—a surge of unexplainable emotion when he saw her face, when he realized just how close she had come to death?

Even he couldn't make sense of it. She had been his enemy, someone who had sought to capture him, someone who had been ready to kill him. Leaving her to die in the abyss should have been the logical choice. It would have been clean, efficient—freeing him to focus on his goal, on the Hydra, and the final sword fragment.

If he had let her fall, his path to escape would have been clear.

But instead, at that moment, when everything should have been about his survival. When everything was going according to his interests, he had chosen something else. He had chosen to save her.

And that choice had left him questioning himself in ways he couldn't explain.

It made no sense. Emotion had won in a battle against reason, overriding the unyielding survival instinct that had guided him for so long. He hated it. The decision felt like a betrayal—of himself, of everything he had fought for.

What a cruel joke.

He replayed the memory, trying to unearth some justification, some clarity. But the more he dwelled on it, the more frustrated he became. There was no logic to be found, only an unsettling truth he wasn't ready to confront.

In that instant, for reasons he couldn't name, he had acted not as the cold, calculating force he believed himself to be, but as something else entirely.

And that thought disturbed him more than anything.

"Maybe it's because you're not as terrible as you think, Master." But Eclipse disagreed with that thought of him.

Her words echoed faintly in his thoughts as if they carried a truth he wasn't ready to accept.

He had brushed them off at the time, dismissing her observation with silence. But now, alone with his thoughts, those words took root, unsettling him.

He didn't want to believe it. He had spent so long despising what he was, what he had become. The idea that some small part of him might still hold onto decency—that he wasn't entirely monstrous—felt foreign. Almost painful.

And yet, as much as he tried to deny it, a faint, reluctant warmth stirred within him.

For the briefest moment, a part of him felt a little less disgusted with his own violent and cruel nature. Saving her had stirred something buried deep within, a flicker of humanity he hadn't realized still existed.

But it was fleeting.

Ultimately, he still regarded it as a mistake—a lapse in judgment that he couldn't afford. Letting emotion dictate his actions, even for a moment, went against everything he had taught himself to believe.

He sighed, his expression darkening as practicality overtook introspection.

Still, what's done was done. He had saved her, and there was no undoing it now. If he was going to make such a reckless decision, he might as well see it through to its conclusion.

Unknown steeled himself. He had made the choice to save her, and now he would use Alice to further his own goal.

Whether it was to secure her cooperation, manipulate her, or use her as a pawn in whatever game he was playing, he hadn't decided yet. But one thing was clear—her survival would serve a purpose, a means to an end.

Even if that purpose meant discarding her when the time came.

Alice, desperate and vulnerable, broke the silence. "...Leonore, can you please check on my teammate?" She asked, her voice tinged with hope, a beg for reassurance about her comrades' safety.

For a brief moment, something in his chest tightened. He could see how much the question meant to her, the raw desperation in her eyes. But that moment was fleeting, and it didn't sway him.

He wasn't a saint. He wasn't even a good person. Unknown was a selfish, broken man who had made a choice, and now he had to live with it.

But his heart was still cold, and he wasn't about to let Alice mistake his act of saving her for something noble.

He had saved her, yes, but that didn't mean he owed her anything beyond that moment.

"Do not get it twisted," Unknown said, his voice hard and unyielding. "That was a one-time thing. Don't expect me to do anything for you without charge."

The words fell from his lips with finality, a reminder of his brokenness. His actions had no noble cause, no altruism—only calculation and necessity. 

If Alice wanted his help, she would have to pay for it, just like everyone else. That was the world they lived in, and it was the only reality Unknown understood.

Alice bit her lip, frustration welling up inside her. But as much as she wanted to argue, she knew better. She understood him, and she understood his cold, transactional view of the world.

She knew she had no choice.

"I understand," Alice said, her voice quieter than before, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. Her brown eyes were sunken, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. "Let's make a deal."

Her words were resigned, but there was a hint of determination behind them. She knew what she had to offer to survive, to get what she needed. She would have to play by his rules—whatever they were.

'Wait… this girl didn't loathe me?'Unknown's thoughts flickered, a strange realization dawning on him. He had expected, maybe even anticipated, hatred or resentment from Alice—especially after what he had done to her comrades. But instead, her response was surprisingly meek, even resigned.

"…Good. That was the type of answer I wanted," Unknown said, his voice a little more neutral than before as he nodded in approval.

He hadn't expected this reaction.

His eyes narrowed briefly, studying Alice with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. He had anticipated some measure of animosity, perhaps even a flash of rage for the lives he had taken. But instead, she was composed—willing to accept the deal without protest.

He had been ready for conflict, yet she simply… complied.

'What's going on in her head? Was she that desperate? Even trusting me?'

'What in the world is this?'

Doubt surged through him, but the situation was still in his favor. There was no retaliation from Alice, no arguing, no fighting. But in the silence that followed, he felt something he hadn't expected—an odd sensation of… discomfort.

Unknown had always thought of himself as her enemy. It was supposed to be a straightforward, adversarial relationship. Yet this, this strange calmness, felt like something… wrong.

"Master, don't overthink it." Eclipse's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, her words grounding him.

Her reassurance helped, but Unknown couldn't shake the lingering feeling. He sighed, his gaze meeting Alice's clear, blue eyes. He accepted the absurdity of it all—the unpredictability of this situation, where he was supposed to be her enemy, yet she didn't act like one.

'Saving a person change them? I guess.'

Alice's response had thrown him off balance. Unknown had initially planned to use her as a pawn, as just another tool to further his own goals. But now, something was shifting within him. Her willingness to comply, her acceptance of the situation—it was hard to ignore.

"Alright, I will check their situation, but after that, share me your story," Unknown said, his voice less cold than before, now carrying a hint of casualness that had not been there before.

"Is that all?" Alice asked, her voice laced with a mix of suspicion and weariness.

"Yes."

Alice considered his words carefully, her brow furrowed in thought. She didn't trust him fully—how could she? 

But she understood the necessity of this arrangement. She had no other options. In her weakened state, there was nothing else she could offer him besides her compliance.

And so, she agreed.

With a soft nod, the strange, temporary relationship between them began. It was fragile, built on an unspoken understanding, a delicate balance between necessity and survival.

Unknown watched her for a moment longer, his mind still swirling with questions and doubts about this bizarre turn of events. The deal was made, and for now, that was enough.