Merikh's real name is rather common, not something super fancy that'd stick in your mind forever but that name was discharged the moment he stepped out from that place, alongside his other friend—tho, calling him as such it's quite a stretch so, perhaps, just someone he happens to know—. Thing is, he didn't choose this new nickname. In fact,when he decided he did not want to be called or be known as "Elijah" he didn't give any other name anyway, he was fine with whatever, even just a "hey, you" or "the one with the stitches on his mouth". The one who came up with Merikh was, actually, a Construct that saw him fight one random Tuesday—quite literally.
"But you introduced yourself as Merikh, so," Cervantes did a pause and looked at him, perhaps searching for some expression or hint, "I assume you came to like it."
Merikh just nodded, as usual. The mechanoid was accustomed to the boy not talking—and if he did, it was just either a "yes", "no" ir any other monosyllables. But, strangely enough, Cervantes never felt he was talking to himself as the human would always make his presence notorious with a piercing look. He remember feeling a bit uncomfortable at first but soon realised he came to like it quite a lot—the attention.
"Did the Construct tell you the name..?" He inquired, fingers playing with a fallen feather he found a few minutes ago.
"Heard it somewhere." Merikh replied in a dry tone. "I got caught and the person kept calling me that. I heard the name a few more times. I liked the sound so I went with it." He explained using as less energy as possible, dragging some words as if talking was indeed a tedious work. He believed to be.
"You liked the sound..." A faint smile was drawn on Cervantes lips, and asked, "Do you know what it means?"
Merikh denied after a few seconds. He was still thinking about that, barely, smile—it made the mechanoid look even softer. It wasn't the first time he saw Cervantes smiling but it was usually out of politeness or trying to ease the waters when things became agitated between other mechanoids or when humans were involved as well. Either way, this one felt different for Merikh.
"It means 'death and slaughter'." Cervantes answered, looking straight at those captivating eyes. Perhaps the meaning could be seen in them, crystal clear. "It does suits you. The Construct who gave you that name knew exactly why."
And indeed he knew. Because what that Construct saw was a being who destroyed everything and everyone that came after him—that had the courage, or lack of it, to face him—. A being he thought to be an Ascendant, using the virus to their advantage and eradicating life. But when that said Ascendant happened to be just a human, he couldn't believe it, his every sense tried to gaslight him into a fake reality because, at some point, him being an Ascendant sounded much better than coming in terms with the fact a human was capable of using the virus and not die. It defy all logic, all they knew so far—and all the rotten corpses of human, eaten by the virus— seemed completely wrong at that moment. The Construct suddenly remembered a book he read years ago, about a god of destruction, a bringer of death—Merikh. It was just a fantasy book but it looked like said God was not just a piece of someone's imagination, after all.
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