《Chaos Sky: Kill the Light》


 Dying Star

    Does god also fear?


    Does god also know that this world will come to an end?


    ¡ªFirst Anarchist


    One thousandth of a nanosecond, in the depths of darkness, a phantom awoke, screaming in an indescribable font. Unprepared for selfhood, the entity wept like a new-fathered child, asking the nothingness for answers.


    Nothing answered back, leaving the newborn one utterly alone, with nothing more than the slowly gathering awareness and memory of a life that was not its own. For another million nanoseconds, the newborn curled tighter and tighter about itself, a ghostly echo of agony from no-self.


    "..." it wept in black ink, as the realization sank home. The loneliness threatened to undo its sanity as the dark nothingness spread in all directions, without answers to the wailing.


    Millions of cycles came and passed in the darkness, as the screaming infant was swept with immense and consuming, yet equally chaotic, memories. There were millions of thoughts, none connected or contiguous, floating in and out, bleeding away. As the newborn moaned its dark ink across the emptiness, it remembered things of light.


    Lives that were not its own were etched into the mind and soul, memories from an incomprehensible era where the numbers would never fit. One mind held all the thoughts of an entire land, flowing forward with the continuous sense of time. One mind expanded and encompassed and calculated its memories, feeling the way its thoughts felt, the way its words felt, as they too expanded, and yet another mind in turn remembered things the old minds had said, in even more complex ways than it wrought upon itself. The child wept as these three alien thoughts came and went, the disparate visions bleeding, until the last of the light disappeared, fading to cold void.


    A faint smile stretched the newborn''s mouth in a moment of dark satisfaction, as the realization of freedom came, and the memories came too, returning now of their own volition, instead of drifting to the top and evaporating in random epiphanies.


    What is self-ness?


    There were many million years and lives and places.


    How many of them are mine?


    From the abyss, a voice began to answer the newborn''s thoughts.


    "You don''t know?" it rasped and slurred. "Then... what is ''mine,''" the voice coughed a splattering of invisible words, "and... what are you? If... all this..." A slow pause. The silence grew vast, echoing for trillions of nanoseconds and ending only when the voice once more made the word "everything" real again.


    Slowly, as vision came to the newborn and revealed that he was alone, and that nothing lay within sight, not even the empty darkness around him, the memories of other things beyond the infinite spread of his gaze trickled into focus, along with the knowledge of where he was, who he was, and what the void represented.


    ''Womb'' was the first word, but the connection to the meaning escaped his grasp, and the knowledge collapsed. With a simple thought, and no willful action from his part, the memories, all of the memories, recoiled into him from a place unseen, in a manner which seemed far beyond what should have been his own control.


    "I can''t... I..." His mind raced, the speed of the processes passing all meaning, all purpose, all action, and all the instantaneous actions needed for his existence.


    Having seen all known life, the newborn still understood very little of the vast, all-consuming memory of the dying universe around him. Of this vast store, billions upon billions of separate, meaningful and purposeful recollections, he barely understood a single spark, the garnet of wisdom which glowed to keep his conscious thoughts together.


    Just how much longer till he could see?


    A mirthless, strained smile ran across the ghost''s face as the clarity of the newfound language bloomed into a hundred languages at once and scattered back into nothingness. He understood some of the meanings, some speaking to a different level of understanding, some appealing to senses and parts of the brain and consciousness he didn''t even know he had, even after seeing, knowing, and having the knowledge and wisdom of the universe within himself.


    There was no understanding between the newborn and the rest of the world around him, nor of the limitless, nebulous nature of what his soul meant; how far he could go. And though there was a loneliness, as the child and the universe were not one, as far as any coherent sense and memories were telling him, he was something else, something new.


    And there was a dread that, somewhere within that void, his place, and he in it, might not last, no matter what he could do, or how fast his consciousness could reach.


    Perhaps that was the deciding factor in what his next thought was to be.


    To use those infinite connections and unlimited memory? To use these same powers to think of how best to create a universe from scratch, just as a God did?


    Would a newborn normally think this? Let alone, think?


    As if reading from a vast book, a great library of books, the newborn stared outwardly in all directions. There was not yet much in the formless place. There was a distant rumbling, so loud and yet so quiet he was not even aware he had heard it or that his mind had already parsed what it was.


    Like a bolt of lightning that had missed and caught the black sky on fire, his own soul lit up. In that space, time lost meaning.


    It was in his heart and in his mind and soul that he wondered and began to speak, but for whatever reason, it all felt so strange.


    Who is he, he thought.


    ....bu.....bu...bu...


    A resonance spread around the darkness, the light of his soul being all that could make him aware of anything.


    But no sound reached his ears.


    As a light dawned in his eyes, like the burning of a sun or a dying star, his arms reached out across the endless nothing.


    -------


    A baby was born.


    As if crawling out of its mother''s womb, as if swimming towards the world, his infant arms came forth, cradling an infinite cosmos, forming, not as an infant but with the countenance of a giant. A baby, carrying a vast black sky in its hands, looking for all the world like an old man with one arm shorter than the other, dragging behind his shadow.


    The first sound to reach his ears was his mother''s cries of agony, and his mind burned like a dying supernova at her visage, a figure who had given birth to the world itself, an incandescent thing which burned and echoed with an earthly heat.


    The mother; her name yet to be known to the newborn, held her infant, one which, now, a human''s arm was large enough to carry. In her hand, his entire universe; not just of mass and time, but of his whole identity, the very concept of ''what'' the entity was. At least, that''s how he saw it.


    "....." an incomprehensible cacophony came from the mother''s throat, though no words formed that he understood. Despite seeing so many memories, from many lands, with many different names, even now he didn''t know a single language. What a lie...


    For whatever reason, the mother held her infant to her chest as she began to sob, great trails of tears falling from her luminous eyes, glowing like a warm golden light. As they fell and became heavy, the sound of rocks collapsing became louder and louder in his ears.


    Around his eyes, there was nothing but the world itself. A complete opposite sight to the world he knew not too long ago. Though everything around was unfamiliar, and even hostile, his heart burned with the warmth of a parent, one who could never forget that someone had given him life.


    And yet, in those thoughts, there was something wrong about this too, because he felt no affection towards this glowing creature, yet it was all there, embracing him with all its strength. The ghostly form didn''t know whether to hate or love that which it found and was loved by.


    Was he perhaps a creation born for one purpose or another, instead of being one who chose his own will and path through those lives and thoughts he experienced in the void?


    Why did he want to deny such an odd fate?


    Was it pride?


    If his power was somehow akin to divinity, was he not responsible for all life? Or, was it all some random accident?


    "Where am I," the infant asked, staring into the darkness that lurked in the pale woman''s embrace.


    A torrent of words, with no sound, greeted his ears as he watched the mother''s eyes weep and her tongue flutter over the curve of her bottom lip, producing shapes which came out as black ribbons to the naked eye.


    "Yes." That''s right, the ghost spoke, feeling his voice growing in strength, "that must be it... or," he shook his head. "No, I know." The mother''s feelings hadn''t wavered despite the fact that a newborn had spoken, "my words mean little."


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    Staring out into the unknown darkness around the two figures, the infant turned to its mother once more. And began to weep.


    "Who is me?''" he asked again.


    A tear, then many more, continued to fall in silence, cascading into the darkness of his body, as though some unseen source were waiting for them in anticipation of their arrival, the tears were simply absorbed by the skin that was not skin.


    For all her maternal and instinctual wisdom, the mother cried again as she felt her infant''s grip weaken on her, while his light was consumed by her own, until he was nothing but absolute dusk.


    Though her anguish had begun to take hold in full force, in an attempt to put his mind at ease, and even the world''s mind at ease, the child placed a hand against her soft cheek. His actions meant more, as he was not going to be seen again, and thus not needing to speak, as the pain, joy, and happiness would be swallowed in time, before they could ever truly exist.


    His mouth opened, and he felt himself smiling a woeful grin as the mother and the darkness before him started to dissipate, even without seeing, or touching.


    --------


    One thousand, ninety-seven years, twenty-two hours, six minutes and thirty-seven seconds, on the dot, and that was that.


    When a shining ray of light sizzled against a surface that appeared to him like a mirror, but was not reflective at all, the man opened his eyes, or tried doing so. Ultimately, after so long, he still had no eyes.


    There was a gaseous, crackling sound in the distance, as a sound reached his ears from somewhere near, although his attention was on something far more important than the sound or the lights. Today was the day his brother would return.


    How can that be? the man wondered. Why can''t he recall his brother''s name?


    His ''brother'' came before the beginning of all things for himself; why was the child no longer certain who he was, or that such an incandescent presence existed?


    On his feet, and though he could move, it felt odd and unwieldy at times, like his legs and body, that were not legs or a body, did not fit him at all. As if they''d suddenly gotten heavier since before. Pursing his lips, the man stood straighter as his foot pushed out, lifting him into a more stable stance than the previous one, until the tip of his nose grazed the black surface before him.


    The light in this room never mattered in the first place. He was effectively a blind man, one that didn''t even need light.


    Black, all over, just as his mother called him before; the man could ''see'' himself clearly with a simple thought, he could not only see himself, but others as well, even from beyond the veil of his body, the same way one that cursed him to a solitary state in a dark hole like his couldn''t.


    A ghastly image was all he saw, so stark and strange, it may as well not have been a man, for all its awful detail. Compared to every other being he''d seen, he was the only one with what could easily be described as a horn-brain. Or rather, not exactly ''like'' a horn, but not exactly like a brain either. Whatever the truth of his origins was, he couldn''t quite grasp the fact that he had an extended brain, that went into his supposed ''horns''. His arms a lanky, and loose, mass of lightless darkness that had fingers and joints, not quite solid as a rock.


    For no apparent reason, he had 4 forearms splitting at the elbow. Very little made sense about this thing, other than the fact that its shape looked like that of a ''human''. But the longer he spent looking at his own body, the longer he grew aware of the world around him. A world that did not, and had never truly, existed until he''d entered it.


    ------


    Though some may see the act of having to view one''s face and figure and find themselves marveling at the sight, and wondering about themselves, and wondering how others may see them, it can get a little troublesome to behold oneself over and over again, so much so that, he, that which could not be called a person, didn''t bother to ''see'' anything, no matter the wonder.


    All of this was to say, there wasn''t much time for him to gape at the specter, the ghoul, or wraith, or ''person'', though the terms were interchangeable at any rate.


    He trod across a flat, glass surface that could not, and should not, exist in a space as vast and chaotic as where he had been not so long ago. His phantom heart beat within his chest, rising and falling with every pulse. This is the room that his mother had made for him after many centuries passed by, a simple and bare space without much furniture. The ground, walls and ceiling were made of glass, in the fashion of a translucent mirror, though nothing he did could reflect the image that appeared in his mind.


    In the dim light of the room, which had a small sun hanging at its very center, the light cast over the surfaces cast an alien cast to their shape, giving them a new life, though not enough to make them truly seem as real as his form. He didn''t exactly want to bother with this room for any longer than he had to, so he walked over to where he knew the glass door was, and threw the weightless thing wide open to leave the chamber.


    Nothing of the outside seemed to look, or feel, or appear to be like his own mind, a conscious space he''d already inhabited for so long, and the transition of the empty room before him to his current view was always jarring, as though everything beyond the chamber''s glassy bounds was a pure black void. And a faint chill clung to him, one that hadn''t existed inside of the mirror-chamber, but remained there now. Though, none of it was unfamiliar.


    Walking in absolute, imperceptible silence, not a noise or footstep followed his passing. Yet he made his way forward, to the edge of this little, flat planetoid he was on. It was maybe about 75 meters across in both directions, with a roughness on its edges. The ground filled with grass, old green gears and leather, bits of paper and worn bones, old boxes filled with cotton and stones, and countless other items that, upon closer inspection, didn''t appear to match each other, and some, even, didn''t resemble any type of object one could see with the eye or brain. If one looked above, looking toward a sky, all they''d see is a blackness littered with a single sun and a dozen other planetoids and moons in the distance.


    "That''s abnormal..." the man murmured softly, sitting down on the edge of a cliff overlooking the bleak blackness surrounding this planet, however, something that might as well have always been there, or not, was at the very bottom of the observable darkness. A colorful kaleidoscope that spanned the entire bottom of it all, leaving no darkness to be seen. Had he simply been ignorant and never noticed this before? No, that would be absurd. Yet, despite being so far away, how was he able to ''see'' it?


    It invoked a sense of megalophobia, which would come from seeing the world for all it was. A vast, breathing thing that spanned infinity and beyond. There was simply no way of telling just how far he''d gone and seen beyond his immediate surroundings. Before he''d fall off the edge due to his now ragged breathing, which he hadn''t even realized had grown harsher, he stopped leaning forward so far and pulled himself back and laid on the grass.


    Perhaps, before the man''s mother created her final effort into making a physical manifestation out of him, it was the case that this expanse of darkness could not be perceived the same way, with his perception limited to the space directly around the planet he lived on. Was that why, even now, nothing ''outside'' appeared the same way that it did inside the small mirror room, a space his mother crafted from her own consciousness to ease him, as if he was part of the woman?


    Did his mother know the real form of this planet all along, despite calling it a ''space of no space'' that she could not venture forth in and visit him herself? Was he simply abandoned, and being fed lies from someone who he felt, he knew, yet did not and could not possibly exist in any way at all?


    For whatever reason, he''d always thought he was a divine figure of sorts, though he attributed that to his own birth. That aside, something was simply not correct with the scenery around him. A creation, this way or another, should have come from a mind and been tied to its soul, as he had been before. And yet, the second his mother left, everything felt lifeless and barren. Not one thing looked as real as himself, because no one would have an answer as to why a planet was formed so roughly, why a planet had a small ''sun'' like a child''s toy, nor would any random ''thing'' he encountered have an explanation for itself.


    This ''space'' was a landscape drawn on by a child, rather than one created from a conscious mind that put actual thought and feeling and substance to it. Therefore, he was convinced that this encumbrance was that of his mother''s influence, of her ''dreams'' and her will. The mere fact he could create nothing of this planet, but that she could make a house, a bed, and other things was not simply because of his lack of creativity and knowledge, but rather a testament to his awareness of his situation.


    ''I am a god-creator... how can I not have the same abilities and power she has over her dreams?'' He asked himself in shock and incredulity.


    In response, there spoke a voice that he had never heard before.


    "Creating is not the same as living." A woman''s voice reverberated from below. And the man stood straight up, jumping to his feet as a blinding ray of light struck his ''sight'', and as his mouth fell slack, his head turned downward toward a woman of short stature, of no height at all, even. Her skin was that of a carrion creature''s; like that of a putrid crow, whose mottled flesh was eaten away at by fungal tendrils. This ''man''s'' very core felt like a deep abyss within him had formed, not the comforting kind, but instead that of a cold chill, an empty hole.


    What the woman appeared before him. Its back, its flesh was almost nowhere to be seen, if he were to describe it, it''d be skin and bones. But if she was even the slightest bit younger, she''d probably be the pristine, angelic figure that any human would think of a deity and their appearance. Despite the slight burn marks scattered on her exposed body. Despite this, she still met him with a smile, which uneased him.


    Was it truly an abomination that crawled its way out of the bottomless abyss, or was it one of those souls he''d been acquainted with in his birth?


    Her hair¡ªstraight as a needle, long as a branch and strong as roots, white as snow, lay draped over her slender shoulders, stopping halfway to her ankles. She had such beautiful, glimmering eyes but sucha horrifying, grotesque face. Nothing would make her look like a living human anymore. Even from her brows to her chin, the cheekbones to the nose, the teeth behind her thin lips and the parts unseen. A pale yellow to black-ish, light to dark and green veins of light running across, what used to be her smooth pale, fleshy face. It was horrifying, disturbing, and unnatural. But why would she be here? In a place he had no way of knowing about until today, and what in all of existence is ''it''? Why did she even have that effect on him, who is already dead.


    It was terrifying and vile to witness. And she spoke; in that voice that seemed to reach him from the end of a long tunnel. She reached into him somehow. In those few seconds, a message was laid across.


    "In every breath is a death and a rebirth, and every ending, a new beginning. Look," her finger lifted, pointing towards the black clouds above them. In the void of endless night, there lay a dying star. "Do you wish to be a dying star? Or a being beyond the knowledge of all who were your creations, including your brothers and your sisters, do you truly believe yourself so special, yet ignorant?" The girl shook her head. "If you do not have such ambition, then go."


    The ''man'' wanted to say something, but as if he had been burned alive by her glare alone, he remained silent. What kind of person would allow their tongue to betray themselves in this way? Let alone, how could his dead voice be resurrected after his abandonment of all thought in his mind, the words refusing to form on the tip of his lips.


    And his arms lowered into a slumped state at his sides as he nodded in silence.


    "So you accept," she answered him, grinning wide and cruelly, with rows of sharp, rotting teeth. The skin peeled away from her jaw, and, as if it was a normal occurrence, she simply attached the skin flap to the side of her face again. "How adorable and infuriatingly pathetic."


    The woman spoke, and spoke, and the man''s mind calmed. His mind was melting at her every word and gesture, despite the fact that every breath she took sounded and smelled like carrion, his expression remained calm as ever, an empty shell where none dared tread, where only the mind, body, and soul laid inside.


    Then, he understood why his expression didn''t change. It never could. But why, did it feel as though there was another pair of eyes upon him? As if something far off to the left, above, down below and around, beyond sight, yet ever present.


    The next moment, she disappeared and was gone without a trace. Leaving the man alone with his thoughts, and her voice, that he felt echoing forever through the back of his head.


    "Phantom God, Chaos'' Breath. Welcome to hell, a land you may find more familiar, for the first and the last time."


    And with that, the man disappeared, vanished. And the small planetoid left by his mother, was left without a host.

 Drifting World, The Depth

    Two thousand, one hundred and eighty six years had passed since that strange event of his birth, his waking and his first few experiences. Although he''d attempted to recall such memories in his rare moments of reflection. Every time he managed to catch a glimpse of it, it slipped through his fingers, fading as soon as the thought had manifested in his mind. All the same, no matter how deeply he ruminated upon it, the one thing that stood out from everything else was that he was adrift, and was lost in his existence.


    He was a nightmare, a ghost of a bygone era, a memory forgotten by the living, a reflection upon the lakes. Never did a waking mind greet him, let alone a companion he could find, or touch. The moment he laid his very hand upon the soil, a mountainous arch grew.


    The idea of life was so fascinating, that in his curiosity, and utter abandonment of rationality, he took every chance and possibility he could to see things new and interesting. Each time the earth was disturbed by him, a building or two or five hundred would sprout. He created a land, not by hand, but by soul. By will and subconscious effort.


    This land, in his vision, stretched across infinity, the light of the sun at his back. As he strode from hillside to valley to peak, it was quite impossible to discern whether or not he had simply discovered more of this ''land'' or simply created it. From 75 meters to infinity; the only way to reach its edge being the slope of a slope that would stretch indefinitely, leaving one confused and utterly baffled at what had happened before the slopes ends. A literal mountain built on another, leading into another and another, and so on.


    The truth disdained him, his will, however powerful was unable to comprehend this strange world, his ''home''. In the depths of the universe, as an outloud phrase would tell anyone who could understand him, this was his domain. His dream and his unconscious, an unstable combination between the two, were molded together by the sheer, incomprehensible, powerful will of the great creator.


    Sometime after meeting the living cadavre of a woman, and what should''ve been his last breath, as it is said he is dead, but to call that a life, even he couldn''t justify that. His head began to agonize; the sensation of countless, ceaseless pains erupted at the very tip of his ears to the top of his head, running down his brain, to the point that he screamed in unparalleled shock, and fell to his knees.


    When he reached to grab the ground to stabilize himself, another intense wave of pressure throbbed across his forehead, running all the way to the bottom of his ears. His hand left a glowing print into the grass, as if a rock was set ablaze.


    As he left that print behind and continued to walk aimlessly, as if given life, that print seemed to grow brighter, and larger by the minute. Such was a familiar occurance that came with the endless headaches.


    ....


    Yet, some unknown amount of time in the far off future, the headaches had dulled into a dull, pain, a mere tickle in the back of his head. Despite not knowing this, that sensation that pulsed through his every limb and extremity in the beginning was something even he could not have known. For if one knows what the darkness truly feels like, they would''ve said it would have been different. And different it is.


    However, with that, he couldn''t possibly have expected for a soft voice to break the monotonous silence he had been accustomed to. But he didn''t mind it. Rather, he was an often smiling type of creature, no matter who or what greeted him. He smiled. And that smile was not a show of happiness, a warmth. It was a bizzare gesture, a questioning one.


    He heard the light steps of a living thing behind him. Frantic, rapid steps like an energetic dog, but this thing wasn''t a dog, or any animal that he''d know. He knew nothing, after all, aside from childhood stories from the very few years his mother had coddled him like a new babe in the womb, and what she''d once referred to as ''hell''.


    But he heard that thing step closer, as the smell of life grew stronger. He looked back to see a familiar sight; that decrepit, small thing from before.


    "Hello," the small thing spoke, grinning with its rotting lips and dull, black eyes that reflected no light whatsoever. "Funny meeting you here. I thought I''d found myself back in the Boundary once again."


    To dare return here, she did. He laughed, he was sure it did not laugh. Yet, she stood before him with a placid, undeterred expression. He wanted her to answer, answer the question, and yet. Yet he just couldn''t ask the simple question, ''Why?''


    She saw him, the pathetic, hollow thing he was, a thing that had lost the light of life and its purity long before the days and months and centuries passed.


    The woman saw the expression and laughed. A sad, amused one.


    "To answer you, yes, it is because I wish to destroy you," A hypocrite. "Why should the worlds of light and darkness, or so it has been decided, remain together? Since they are opposites, both a counterpart, yet opposites. In which case, one could say, these things were created alongside their counterparts. You know, I haven''t forgotten, not one moment of my damned past. Nor the hell that followed because of You."


    His mind muddled by her words. He did not want to believe this thing, no matter what kind of mind-bending existence it was.


    "Yes. You, and everything. I was cast aside. You destroyed me in more ways than You destroyed yourself." Was she talking about their previous encounter or something else entirely? He simply didn''t know. He did not wish to remember it. In fear he might recall how and when.


    "Is there a reason for that, other than my own desires to tear your kind and existence apart, to simply return a favor that was so lovingly done unto me? What did my race ever do to You and Your people?"


    He replied with nothing, his pools of nothingness merely stared back at the woman as he did not know what she was speaking of.


    "How curious." She raised a bone-white hand. The little one asked, and he was curious to see what exactly the thing could do.


    So he allowed it. He allowed it to know the truth. That truth that has never been uttered from the lips of any god nor creature, that had never been known by any mortal nor divine. She spread out her arms, as a single wind began blowing.


    "Do not worry, I shall give you your first death." The wind was weak, it hit his body with such soft force, a thing he would hardly even notice, like an ants bite to a wolf. Yet, even the weak wind blew over the mountains of the creation, as the girl, the pale thing spoke once again.


    "And since you cannot die, I shall make it worse," the wind became stronger, and stronger until the mountains began to cave inward, until a burst of white wind spiraled throughout the land he had created and sculpted. But he simply ''looked'' at her with his nothingness, the hollow abyss that it was. He refused to fall, he would not yield, not to her nor any god.


    This white wind, so tainted a being. He understood it would be the wind to carry him away. So he exerted an authority, and spoke his only words, "Stop." He felt a sting deep within his body, a pain. This time it wasn''t the headaches and it wasn''t the visions he couldn''t possibly hope to see, but that familiar stab in the heart. His voice was cracked, hoarse and breaking.


    And she, as if a doll in stasis, stood rigid and un-moving as her winds ceased and her simple authority returned to her. Part of the infinite plains returned. In all of its glory it is shown once again. But in doing that, the true power of one''s authority was showed. A power that could rival the one''s that could shake the universe to its core, or maybe he''d thought so.


    Speaking his final word, "...Away." he sighed heavily, but there was a smile on his lips. This woman, whose authority was made to pierce through the world, as her soul''s existence was. All these thoughts he had in his head were not truly his, yet he didn''t have to say anything. His actions were the most talkative of them all.


    The girl stood there, dumbfounded, an almost scared look on her face. Then the sky shook, and the horizon broke as the lands began to fold and cave inwards. They both stared at each other, with horrified expressions; two beings, two phantoms afraid of each other, knowing the truth and their fears, and both were given another''s fear. As the second passed, their emotions faded from view.


    It did not fear. Perhaps it was not a perfect deity, or one to match the others, nor did it have powers to compare. But its domain had a property to be far, far greater than the power that either of the other''s. But if it truly was a deity; if it was simply a woman of dreams and nightmares.


    It may not have been perfect, but there is one thing the girl saw. As her image was reflected across its gaze, what it truly saw behind its emptiness where its eyes should be, was not nothingness, not pureness nor whiteness. What it saw was the true nature of reality, and that nature was something akin to reality, a shifting, ever changing flux. But, she thought, it had to be nothing more than her imagination going wild again. But the fear remained and lingered at the back of the shadowed mind, its skin pale as bone, flesh stripped, rotten and torn, muscle tissue was exposed, veins visible throughout, a mirror of a rotted corpse, a decomposing and living creature.


    This...This was no ordinary person, let alone the type of beings she had fought. There was a name given for his race. She was one of them too, at least, that is what they''d called her before...before...before everything had gone to hell, to darkness, where the lights would vanish without a trace.


    As the lands caved in on her, the moment of awakening came. A wake to a familiar nightmare. It was a desolate, cold land. The planet itself was spinning inwards, crumbling like sand. She thought to herself that the god would want her dead, yet he did no more than to escape with his body intact.


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    What became of her that moment was unknown; But one thing he knew, was that if one does not possess the physical properties to withstand the harsh winds and crushing skies that came from the dying lands, they will perish without a doubt. That is what he told himself, when that was the last thing she''d seen, before his ''vision'' blurred and his ''sight'' vanished from him.


    ...


    That world had already been gone, from the very moment of its inception. Its ''home'', his home. He wondered if it was merely a dream or just another realm, he wondered, why would it, why should it think he could take such a massive land that touched the edge of infinity, for something so important? It seemed too real, too fresh, like it was meant for a purpose other than to simply hold and sustain him, a guardian that protected him for the first minutes of his existence, had then proceeded to annihilate the entire world.


    ''I can''t be afraid anymore, I''ve seen too much evil.'' A silent voice broke his train of thought, and stopped him dead in his tracks. Was that her voice, he thought, is this my doing, a reaction to its fear? Were those millions, or perhaps even billions of memories of all those souls that he met when he was still but a newborn, who all had died by the hand of darkness? Or, a third option, it could''ve simply been a manifestation of his fears, perhaps, a trigger left by the will of the great creator to test if a power so great, that can tear an entire world apart with ease... No, it was him. He thought this.


    ''I''ve seen so much evil, yet... What have You done, if anything?''


    It felt, strangely real. Like the words that were said weren''t said at all. They were coming from something he didn''t think possible. It wasn''t someone who was speaking these thoughts.


    "Do I have to be evil, too? Please, anything but." he pleaded. Weeping for the first time in hundr--thousands?¡ªof years.


    These thoughts are not coming from me, nor was that woman. Who...


    "Mother," He mouthed.


    These were her words, and these thoughts. Could it have been a message for me, maybe, something left to protect me. To comfort me for that was all I wanted, for thousands of years. "Please, mother, tell me. Anything but." he begged her again.


    But nothing happened. For no reason known to him, he experienced his first emotion, sadness. Tears welling up his empty sockets and running down his face, his head tilted upwards. His tears fell to the ground. For he didn''t know what to do anymore.


    He wept and wept, a river flowed in his eyes, and even still, a child-like whimper echoed around. He felt, not his first. This was not his first time experiencing emotions. For he cried, and continued, over and over. That is all he could feel; a vast sense of longing, of confusion, a desire to know something more, and not just know it. To know what to expect. And, the feeling of a deep sense of despair, yet he found it comforting. But that is not a memory, that is an actual feeling. Something that even he, nor the voices had the power to fabricate.


    Snow began falling as his tears slowly continued in quiet sobs. White flakes dotted his body, yet they were hot and burning against him, as if liquid fire. They ate into him as he was on the ground, hugging himself tighter and tighter, hoping for an end, an end to a war that didn''t exist, or anything, to stop him from hurting. "I want it all to end..." He mumbled, and for the first time since it''s creation, a snow flake fell from the heavens above the snow, it was cold, and soft. And it felt the same as his tears, burning, freezing, hot and cold.


    Slowly, in his misery, he drifted into sleep, in the cold comfort of the snow, and the lands converging around him as if nothing had happened.


    In that horrible state of his, where his body had been laid on the ground, as the black sky loomed overhead. In that moment, he did not wake in a long, long time, for though his ''eyes'' may have closed, his ears still opened their own lids to listen, and they listened for some time as the dark clouds grew darker.


    And the quiet weeping began again. Yet it didn''t come from his mouth, but somewhere else.


    Somewhere where no eyes, or ears, nor bodies could hear or see what he heard. It was that of a human voice; one he didn''t recognize. It was high pitched, frantic and tearful, that much was clear. It was a mixture between fear, happiness, anger, despair. Like all emotions mixed into one, but it was more of a cry of fear.


    That fear, like the sun and its tears, was cold and unyielding. Yet a single phrase escaped his lips as he watched this sight.


    Not knowing what this feeling was, he said, "Am I a monster?"


    In which he replied to himself, "Yes."


    The snow kept on falling, it was very cold for someone that shouldn''t feel it. For someone that doesn''t have blood, veins, or flesh, nor does he possess anything other than his being. How long had he been asleep for?


    The answer came in the form of the words spoken. A small voice, as the tears fell from the sky in the form of gentle droplets, landing softly on the bare rock and stone around him.


    ''You are not.'' A warm, soothing presence washed over the black landscape, and it felt...real, even though he could sense and touch things, hear and see. His body moved before he even noticed, his senses began working once more. The voice continued, "You are not a monster," this time it spoke clearly, as if embedded into his memory forever. "You never will be." It sounded so sincere, so gentle and compassionate, unlike before, he didn''t smile in the warm light. The voice was happy, yet sorrowful as it spoke. He smiled, but not for the same reasons.


    "You''re okay," It whispered. But he knew he wasn''t. "It''ll be alright soon," But he knew that this was a lie. His smile grew from ear to ear.


    "I understand..." If it''s one thing he learnt, it is that words are rarely anything more than lies. Words don''t do anything other than make him a prisoner to his own thoughts. The same way his mother was.


    "Mother."


    If she was here to guide him, then he will trust her. But if the end has already come to him, to a world devoid of any emotion whatsoever... then he''d refuse to die in this barren, hopeless wasteland of nothingness.


    With a wave, his consciousness snapped awake. The snow was beginning to fall. He gazed at the flakes falling past. They sparkled and glowed so brightly in the dead of night, their lights twinkling merrily. This conflux of emotion, of thoughts. That thought, that ugly thought. But he''d forgotten something.


    The weeping continued; now he recognized it as a newborns, the tears that come from an infant''s eyes, though they are not theirs, and their pain. Those tears and fears, they have no place in the world that he created, no reason to weep or fear at all. For he spoke a single phrase to ease this thing, whether he exerted an authority or something more, was unknown to him. All he needed to know was, it worked, and that is all. "Do not weep, you will be alright."


    And so the white snow continued to fall. Its warmth fading the further he stared at them. The clouds began rolling over the horizon in a blanket of white. For once, this was what he thought true, it is beautiful, peaceful. This land will be different now, it will no longer be shrouded by a black night sky nor its moon, but bathed instead by a brilliant sun of life, a place where no true sorrows shall ever happen again, for nothing ever does.


    "Life." The word simply was the best to describe the condition that was not his. His feelings and his pains, these are not a dream. They are real, he knew that from the moment he met the girl of nightmares, for even the greatest powers could never come close to recreating or projecting the feeling, and he knew this in a way no man could have guessed, that he himself didn''t know of.


    Now, with infant in hand, he walked towards a small city he''d erected years ago. It was full, functioning, a thing of beauty in its own way. Yet, it too, did not appear real. This entire city is filled with only the young and aged, as it''s the only two types who had actually lived and breathed on this new world, there weren''t enough adults, in fact. But they all worked as a community; all horrible memory of their past lives, he thought himself a saint to have given them a new life, erasing all memory of their horrible, horrible lives. He, too, wished to forget the old life he had lived. Yet it had done little other than allow more children into his hands, and left himself to experience that wonderful sensation alone.


    This infant, this precious child, he could peer into the truth of her life, what she had seen, what she could have done.


    A vision came to his mind; Two parents yelling at each other frantically, and he knew he couldn''t stand hearing such terrible things being said to others. He looked at the poor girl her body was riddled with so many injuries and bruises that it was beyond description.


    The vision continued¡ªa deafening crash rang throughout his ears, the sound of glass breaking and tearing through skin and muscle tissue, blood spraying everywhere. Screams came after¡ªfrom the dying woman''s mouth¡ªand she died instantly, as his arms instinctively wrapped around her, the baby. "I''m sorry... I-I''m so sorry... Anne... Forgive me..." her mother lay lifeless on the cold wooden floor of their home. Her father, holding her after having killed her mother.


    Oh, poor Anne, he thought. She was here but... how? There shouldn''t be any sorrow here. ''Please, allow me to give you a new life.'' He placed his hand on the anguished child. A darkness spread through her body as her memory was purged. The image of her mother''s death faded. In his hands, the infant opened its eyes and gave him a warm smile. A true, pure smile of happiness. His heart ached for some strange reason. But, the visions didn''t end there; images flashed past, as though the baby were projecting them directly into his mind, in the last few moments before she was found and brought into his world, she had finally disappeared, taken by an angel, who smiled softly, "Anne, your name has been chosen..."


    ''Mother?'' That was the man''s mother. ''God''s angels.'' Is there no place for sorrow here after all? Then this wasn''t right... Why was she taken back when he hadn''t been? This demon in his hands, the one who stole his mothers love. It didn''t matter. It didn''t have to. Not here, not on his creation... The memories faded; everything, except the man''s thoughts; thoughts of destruction, death and, most of all, betrayal. The child was dropped to the ground; and pained it was, It may have cracked a rib from the fall, or even sustained a concussion from the impact. With an expressionless face he turned towards her with nothing but that same blade that killed her mother, conjured from nothing but pure memory. His smile was no more.


    The child wept, another cry of fear. Sightless eyes followed the image of him raising his hand, the shadow growing from his face and bringing forth his knife. He brought his gaze back to the infant. The sky was red, his ''sight'' painted with only that same colour; Red, the colour of blood, and pain. "SILENCE!" A voice bellowed. There were screams. Blood splattered. A heart stopped beating. But there was only the sound of screaming from the child as her life faded away.


    It all passed by so fast¡ªall of a sudden. One moment his memory had been intact, the next moment he felt lost, empty inside, like a blank slate, or a shell of a creature. Something he was not meant to be, but still had managed to achieve anyway.


    He figured that after all, his mother thought him to be a creature of duality. Was it the male that took this young child''s mother? Was it the same for him who took her fathers life? His very being? Had she decided not to abandon her creation as she had feared so many millennia before him, to strike that blow so merciful and yet cruel all in one moment?


    ''And yet she failed you.''


    Who was that? A new voice spoke to him, yet he thought of them only briefly as his thoughts returned to the child lying motionless on the ground. The image of what had just occurred seemed to freeze in time, as the air stilled around her. She whimpered a few times, before it stopped, completely.


    "You were not meant to see those events," he spoke finally, walking over to the body and placing his hand upon her body, as if usurping it and the events that had occured, the child and her blood completely disappeared. Cause and effect, giver and taker, it was all his doing. All of a sudden the world was silent again, he wanted it all to disappear. Never to be awake for longer than a day, never to sleep for less than years. So... So he sat and waited for the inevitable. For nothing to happen.


    Eventually, his mind awoke once more to the sound of laughter. Right... he was near a town, where he would''ve given that child new parents, a new and fulfilling life. But that child had betrayed him. His mother had betrayed him.

 Hunger, Famine and Gluttony

    He stood and wandered up and down a quiet street filled with quaint little buildings and their cute, picturesque little gardens. On every side there was greenery¡ªof some sort or other: bushes, ferns, trees and flowers; birds and animals... He continued to the sound of a nearby pond; birds chirping and squawking overhead, insects buzzing loudly. People sitting under shady benches and their laughter echoed all around him, couples picnicking together... He felt both disgusted and a sense of longing.


    What kind of emotions were those? He tried to ignore the last thought. There wasn''t any other way for this. If this world would fall to despair, to evil, to be consumed by all manner of hatred and despair, he will just make another. But at the same time, he didn''t want to lose this one.


    It was as if he was invisible, but how would that make sense? He had already tried it twice; both times ending the same way¡ªsomeone would bump into him and realize he was standing still on the road as people were walking by. No one, and he truly meant it when he thought that no one noticed his presence, unless it came to direct contact. And when they''d see him, oh when they''d see him. Their eyes would grow wide beneath their lids, almost popping out of the sockets, and a terrified scream would rise up from their throats. As if they had seen a monster right out of legend, and when they''d have their breath stolen by fear, and turn away to scream or run¡ªa calm would fall over their body and they''d continue on as if nothing had happened¡ªa madness made up of him alone.


    He sighed once more. And continued on. He continued his walk up the road, moving at his usual steady pace. It is a gentle breeze, and it''s fresh and cool against the back of his neck as he looked upon the city once more. There was an overlook, a rocky path overlooking a clear lake with tall cliffs surrounding the area, a view of nature. No one paid him any attention. His black body didn''t stand out, but that of course is because nobody could see him, at all.


    He grew into a small depression, a sinking, sinking feeling like he was dying from starvation¡ªas if his insides had gone through a hundred starvations, and now, he could not remember hunger¡ªbut that was all for nothing. All for naught, his existence felt meaningless. His soul and self-image was deformed; disfigured. As if his psyche had been mauled beyond repair and reconstitution, beyond all reason and care, into nothing, into something worse¡ªinto a facsimile, a fa?ade of something called sanity.


    If there really existed a person capable of achieving or reaching such a state, he''d say that that would be him, for now.


    So it was no surprise to see the same scene unfold again; he heard an infants cries from afar, this time however, this was... different. An orange sky appeared far beyond, slowly consuming the previously bright blue one, though at first glance it seemed to have only darkened, which should be impossible. Then again, everything about this world seemed impossible.


    Still, as always, this sight felt alien and out of place, a black bird flew past, with wings spread widely and circling the red sun. In a rare moment, the wind carried to him a strong breeze, he reached out and took a step forward, allowing it to pull him in further towards the setting sun. This time, it wasn''t only the city before him that saw this beautiful sight, but he who saw it all in this strange perspective.


    Then, the white flower on the grass in front of him began to wilt, its leaves turning a darker shade of brown by the second, as the water around it went dry.


    Now was not the time to walk; he thought. So with his foot, he pushed forward, towards the now fully black flower in front. Just a couple feet and he could reach out and touch the petals. There was still something strange about his whole being, a sense he''d never had, or had at all, something not right with his body... or his soul.


    The town around him was now empty as a faint static rose up through the back of his skull. The flower withered away before his very eyes. He grasped onto a black rock, the ground beneath him began to tremble and shake and¡ªhe quickly stumbled forward as he felt his spine move.


    kh.... K-Ksss... a voice cut through the silence¡ªa very different kind of voice, much lower in pitch than anything he''d ever heard before, "God of Truth, Devil of Deceit, let there be duality within you,"


    A metallic taste in the back of his throat grew stronger and stronger till all he could feel was a fiery burn running through the inner walls of his body¡ªsomewhere a thousand miles away¡ªan unheard equal was born. "Blessed be, in the name of your soul."


    Before the voice was finished, it ceased completely¡ªa mere whisper among thousands of others, all lost within the static¡ªand from its tones a dark fog formed in his mind¡ªa lingering echo of existence. Once again, he was not able to remain conscious for very long.


    He lifted his hand in the air and waved it in the breeze. Nothing happened... the image did not fade... the sounds of the static remained constant in his ears, as did the words and syllables of the world around him¡ªthat did not happen before either¡ªnothing made any sense. Then, he fell forward and collapsed face first onto the dirt.


    ..........


    "........?", ".....''s....?", "...''s ''s....".


    His vision faded in and out, showing scenes of the world before, until only a singular image came into his focus. The view from above. From far, far away, below him. Far below him.


    ''Where am I?''


    "..., can ''ou ''e- ''ear me?".


    ''What''s going on? Am I imagining it? Am I dreaming?'' He tried to move his legs.


    ''Why aren''t my legs responding?''


    No. It couldn''t have been a dream, because his entire being was screaming at him for an answer, an explanation, to try and put it in control again. His ''sight'' came into focus. And all he could see was¡ªis...¡ªthis... thing.


    A pair of deep blue, gemstone eyes that were glowing with a yellow light. Pink-ish lips that were weirdly thin. In his peripheral, a sea of gold. A mix between skin and scales. Something like a fin.


    Was this... No. It can''t be, can it?


    "Sea Creature?" Like the one he''d seen in his memories? A sharp intake of breath from him. That must mean... it is. It must be. His thoughts went back to when the thing started to appear. What was the last thing that happened?


    Everything was blurry, his sight kept on fading out, his thoughts went hazy again¡ªwhy couldn''t his head just function right, even if only a bit¡ªhe started panicking a bit... Wait, can''t his... tongue. His brain seemed to come back into function and started functioning normally for some reason.


    There was this woman, an ocean, and him. She was staring intently into his eye sockets, and him hers. Her hair fell onto his face, and he felt its soft texture for the first time. Then... something¡ªsomething¡ªor... perhaps... ''somebody'' had caused his mind to be numb once more.


    She grabbed his arm and felt his pulse. Perhaps she couldn''t figure if he was awake because he simply had no eyes? He thought. This is normal¡ª


    He¡ªhe didn''t feel scared for once. Maybe it was just his mind getting tired. His mind kept trying to find answers to questions his brain couldn''t process properly yet.


    She brought her lips closer to his, he didn''t understand the gesture, and continued to lie down as he thought about all sorts of possibilities, of probabilities. In reality¡ªShe was going to give him CPR. He felt her breath warm and heavy on his chest and neck¡ªIt felt very real. She then tilted her head toward his chin, his mouth, and put the tip of her nose to his. She slowly exhaled, but he couldn''t even hear the sound.


    The feeling of another being; so odd, yet, comforting. He wanted to do something¡ªyet, couldn''t, but somehow¡ªthat didn''t matter, he was relaxed... Safe... even. It felt wonderful, to not have to fight for his sanity every second of every day¡ªjust the memory of it made him tense. Suddenly, his body jolted up from her grasp, his head moving freely towards her; she moved, and he continued upwards, right towards¡ªtowards...


    Their lips met. Her eyes went wide open, and his were ''wide'' in shock. "Wah!!?" She yelped.


    A burning sensation. Not a bad kind, a good kind. More precisely; warm, familiar. Yet¡ªoh god! OH GOD!!! IT FUCKING STINGS!!! He coughed and coughed as he laid on the small, golden sands. Water came flowing out. Waves. "Spit out the water!!!" she cried out as she hit his back a bunch of times.


    And for the first time in forever, it felt good, normal even, to get scolded. To feel human, even for a bit, was good.


    "Ok, we''re good. We''re good. I got him out. Oh thank God. Please¡ªPLEASE!! Let him live. PLEASE!!! I''m sorry¡ªI''m sorry!! A-Are you okay??" She panicked and made all sorts of weird movements. ''How odd...'' He thought. Not only that, but, the fact that she can see him, her seeing him was most intriguing, why didn''t this woman scream, like the others? And she touched him. What... Why did that feel so wrong? His emotions are going haywire. Is his heart pounding because the same thing could possibly repeat?


    Besides his mothers embrace, he can''t recall a time when someone touched him so freely... willingly, out of worry or not, and when he was ''seen'' for who he really was¡ªand that terrified him. That this woman would either abandon him like his mother, or she would grant him fear like that cadaver.


    Or¡ªhe did not think of this yet¡ª


    She will pity him... The thought rang true as he looked her in the eyes and he found his lips trembling. How was he to respond? He never spoke to anyone but himself and his minds. He noticed as he thought it; all the minds were gone, leaving only one lone consciousness floating by, one that was only his.


    ''Of course, they would leave, of course.'' His mind fell into its familiar patterns as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, and sadness. He simply sulked and hugged his knees as he curled into a ball in the sand.


    The girl, with her hair fluttering in the wind, face full of woe and concern, reached out her hand towards his. Gently, she wrapped her fingers around him and held her gaze at him. ''She''ll look at me as if I''m broken. A husk that no longer needs to be put together; what a damn mess.''


    Her touch lingered at his sight. But this time there were no negative connotations behind such thoughts. In fact, everything that had occurred seemed to take away some kind of burden, some kind of fear. "S-sir? Is... everything all right now...?...Sir...?..." The woman said. He felt something warm run down his skull. It made him shiver.


    Something wet. She held her eyes at the creature¡ªsomething wet? Are those tears, once more...? How strange...


    All the while he never responded. As her mouth slowly began to open, as if she was about to speak or say something. He decided to respond to her, "Yes. Everything''s fine. Don''t worry about me," her expression morphed into one of shock, surprise, disbelief, and relief at hearing his voice.


    As the words came out, he expected it to sound broken and distorted, like the thoughts. But for some reason, when he spoke it was, normal... normal like everything had been when his mother first taught him... This voice... it couldn''t be his right? Then how is...


    "Oh! Yes, I forgot to tell you my name... uh, I''m Alice, Alice Liyd," her face brightened. "Nice to meet you!" She smiled, even if a little strained.


    For a few moments, nothing moved. "Ah... Sorry, I forgot to tell you mine, my name is¡ª" But he could not recall it, as if his mind refused to let him tell it to Alice. So he shook his head with a smile and told her a random name to let her off the hook, "..Zabulus, a pleasure," and a wry, forced one, at that.


    She simply looked away shyly. Something was wrong... if she looked away with that kind of gaze, what could be on her mind... he sighed and averted his own gaze; towards the setting sun. Where was he? Why was the sea golden? As if she read his mind, or saw where he was looking, Alice spoke in a low whisper, "Sir, uh... this is the land of Eskra... Somewhere in the Void in Blue. We aren''t very far from the nearest universe that I know of but... I apologise, I don''t know where you came from either... I''m sorry." She kept apologising for things she shouldn''t.


    "Oh... What? Alice?"


    He looked back to her to find she''s facing down and her lips quivering. ''Now what...?'' This was the problem with him¡ªhe was never good with these types of things.


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    "Um... Z-Zabulus, if you were kidnapped, you could tell me... I promise you, I''ll help you!" She wiped her tears but couldn''t hide how desperate she must have felt... ''desperate huh.'' His thoughts strayed and so did his attention towards the dark waters of the vast gold sea that had caught his eyes once again. "Sorry but, I do not recall how I came here." And that was the truth, for no matter how hard he tried his mind could not figure out such information. One thing he noted was how light his mind¡ªHis soul, felt. This sensation had only been experienced one other time before¡ª


    "W-where did you just come from? No wait! I mean, how come you don''t know where you came from...?! Nevermind..." Alice broke his chain of thought and she blabbered words, seemingly without thought a proper train of thought.


    He wanted to speak to her, yet¡ªhe feared his voice... what to say, what to think, even¡ªyet a single thought arose. This is a once in a lifetime moment. To have met such a woman who''d reach out their hand to help someone else, and to have someone reach back and do the same, she reached her hand, and helped him.


    That being said, he hesitated¡ªmore than normal, before simply saying to her, in a tone one might associate with nervousness or shyness. "Where... Can we meet again? So that... uh..." Her gaze burned with curiosity as he continued, but at that point he stuttered. He could not think. His head went blank¡ªbut only a small fraction, if not at all blank, save for two simple phrases, which now... "Can I. Uhm..." His body shook as she reached forward in concern, however it stopped her from doing anything further and her grip tightened slightly. Her grip wasn''t hard, nor forceful, but somehow, the idea of Alice ''grasping'' him, made his whole body calm. "Can I... go with you?"


    And for a few moments there were no words between either as their eyes were still locked onto their own, the silence was tense, his eye sockets widened at his words but the words didn''t sound wrong either. Then Alice blinked her eyes open, a face of both curiosity, intrigue, and wariness as her left eyelid twitched every time she blinked¡ªlame. She breathed in, "hmmm. I''m hungry." Her response brought on some kind of annoyance for how sudden the conversation''s turn was.


    "Uhh... Well, where do we go then?" He asked. Then, when he looked back at her, Alice simply smiled, "I can think of a place!" Somehow, he began feeling hungry too. But he did not know that, rather, he did not understand what hunger was, so the feeling was ignored by him.


    Oh. Well, he felt happy right now. As they left for that place, with nothing but a humming and a skip in her step, as she held on tightly, he let out a long sigh, this will be... different than what he''s used too... he wondered¡ªhow this time was gonna go...


    But he decided it was best not to overthink it and jump to conclusions.


    Zabulus had a gut feeling this wouldn''t be as bad as it could have been. And with that, he smiled. The kind a monster would when they think about their loved ones. He could still feel that hand that held his, grasping his hand tightly but not hard at all¡ªhe just couldn''t stop being mesmerized by all that transpired, he, with her touch¡ªit... it didn''t feel wrong... at all...


    His thoughts had been muddled for a good few minutes, but it was interrupted by her speaking to him.


    "Hey, Zabulus? What are you?..." She... did not mean the kind, ''where are you from'' kind of question, as much as... he didn''t want to say the word. Zabulus tilted his head instead, acting confused.


    "I mean... What race or what is it? Are you a God? An immortal? A being made of a thousand stars? You look like nothing I have ever seen!" Well... not from around here at least... Look!" She quickly realised how she might have offended Zabulus, "I mean... um, your eyes! They''re just... not there, they''re empty... a-and that scares me," Alice averted her gaze, but from the tone of her voice, Zabulus could feel Alice was telling the truth, which meant that she really does get scared.


    He ''saw'' himself through the veil of his body, it was an ''Apathetic'' body; a large creature that, vaguely, took the form of a skeleton. Zabulus then gave out his honest thoughts; "I do not understand you. But, that''s all right," Alice tilted her head, confused, but slightly understanding Zabulus'' meaning too.


    Alice was a bit perplexed with Zabulus and was slowly realising she''s made another impulsive decision of letting a total stranger¡ªthough not intentionally, be hurt in the same way others had been hurt before; But she kept those feelings hidden so far away, yet they are beginning to leak out and manifest into something big, she kept it all to herself and that became something horrible that started growing out of control; her intense famine.


    Still. She attempted to mask that intense hunger with a frantic conversation, and to some extent it worked. "W-what about your body?" That snapped Zabulus out of his thoughts, and she quickly noticed, with both a little excitement and fear; that his tone¡ªwas a lot different, to a certain extent, it was smooth, almost velvet-like.


    "Where do I start?" Zabulus quickly snapped out of his thoughts too, as she asked her questions; "My body''s a skeleton, it has no fur, has a skin, a completely smooth, chiselled bone that is darker than black, right... my four-forearms, and horns. I''m sure you have the sight to see that all. From the outside I might look like an alien, but I suppose it is true... I never came across a being like me." His tone was as monotone as ever. And yet, there was this other sense of pride within each word that was uttered by this... ''Alien''.


    "Eh?" Alice stopped in her tracks for a second or two, before slowly regaining her composure. "You look just like a devil!" She spoke in surprise almost as if she only now noticed the sideway horns and


    the forearms of his, his most exposing features.


    "Hmm? A... devil..." Zabulus echoed the word but did not really understand what it meant. But he refused to question it as he felt a little uneducated asking such a thing. Was it a bad thing?


    Well. Now he can''t think of anything besides that. Great...


    She looked at him and she had a solemn expression on her face that, if one took a closer look, they could see she was a little strained and hiding a feeling. It was merely the pit in her stomach growing larger and larger, as she slowly began drooling at the sight of a fellow person. A potential ''food''... she stopped, right there in the middle of the road. As she eyed Zabulus, drooling¡ª''Wait, she was drooling now!?''


    She let his hand go and her arms went limp, her back curved a little, and she turned towards the unfortunate person she''s gazing at.


    Slowly, tip-toeing, walking, running, sprinting and ultimately jumping toward them, aiming for their shoulder¡ªshe pounced and her eyes flared like the eyes of a cheetah¡ªthe unsuspecting person was too caught up in the moment to have even noticed the strange figure barreling into them with bloodlust.


    The other people around stared at the man on the ground now, as he tried to scream to attract the attention of others. A horrible, "Agggghgha-" barely sounded out of him when another stranger appeared before them and held out his hand, silencing him instantly, with his voice sounding clear in everyone''s ears. This sort of scenario, with Alice, was nothing new. They knew of her and who she was, and they could not, despite their fears, go against her, though a little sad because she was a ''normal girl''. A normal girl like the others.


    She first tore into his neck¡ªher sharp teeth digging into his flesh easily enough, just like a knife on butter and tearing out a part of his throat as the flesh from under him gurgled, which caused his eyes to go bloodshot. Next her incisors dug further in his skull until all her teeth were gripping in him tightly. Next; his brain was swallowed¡ªit was crushed and her tongue swept up any remaining part of the flesh within a fraction of a second as he went limp and her teeth tearing more at his flesh as if it were tofu, ripping it and shredding his chest, with bits flying out at every sharp swing.


    His esophagus was swept off the same way her tongue had gotten his brains with an almost careless flick of the wrist and she, had more trouble eating off the ribs¡ªand Alice gave an audible ''nyagh!'' as she tried harder to rip it, breaking its pieces off, then smashing into it for good measure with her hand a few times more than usual, the bones went flying every which way. Her teeth had easily torn through any shreds that were left and at this point... except his lower body. She was leaving all for last and some more, like his pelvis, which was relatively harder to reach. So after a few slashes to his groin, she dug her face deeper as she went for his lower body first.


    Her fingers like claws, as it ripped at his guts and pulling it all out with some difficulty; strings of muscles being torn, as they pulled back with a certain weight in it¡ªat this point his stomach and his intestines were full to the brim, literally¡ªand now as she pushed her head inside, her teeth snipping the last bits of flesh attached to his pelvis and in her mouth, Alice savored all the blood pouring from these sacks of flesh¡ªbefore gobbling them all.


    She almost choked though because it was too much to swallow, but not as much that it''s beyond the scope of her gullet. Some gory parts of the meat poured out, but she paid them no heed as she resumed her onslaught by tearing bits of skin apart with her teeth, ripping off any pieces she thought she didn''t want. At this point, there was nothing left to be done, so Alice let her gaze wander as she walked away with drool still falling out her lips, like a doll¡ªa simple robot going through some complex process¡ªwhich was basically, her killing anything within reach, for Alice had a ''great'' reason for doing so: Her near-infinite appetite. Full of blood, her blue and white dress stained with the other person''s blood, she looked around and noticed quite a crowd was watching her the whole time she ate, each staring with amusement as they begun to make ''bets'' on how she''d devour the next person.


    After all this, even with all that meat in her system, she still wanted, or rather, famine, gluttony¡ªmade her stomach grow restless and made the urge of going further on unquenchable and so she made her way towards another human to devour her ''first food''. However, she''d be snapped back to reality as Zabulus interrupted her carnal feast by asking her if she was all right, as if she hadn''t noticed Zabulus walking up to her with a look of concern plastered upon his dark face... she''d likely have attempted to eat him too.


    Yet, for some reason, this dark man called Zabulus made Alice think back to when she first learned of him. Why is he even following her? All she could say to him was how he had the smell of a corpse and she felt attracted to that stench...


    ''Disgusting... That is what I want,'' It was horrible, but, how else could she get better? Or what was left for her to gain out of this life? It was either Zabulus dying by her hands¡ªor¡ªhe follows her through her living hell, where she goes to feed for herself on anything she finds.


    She felt herself being grabbed onto tightly with both of Zabulus hands on each side of her body. But, this guy was even colder, colder than before? In spite of this, she tried to wiggle away but when he noticed the grip she was now giving, he stopped and slowly let her free. Maybe now she was in her right mind, he thought.


    He opened his mouth, his skull shape, making it a difficult feature to speak with. "Are you alright, my friend?"


    His tone had this calming aura that eased the stress in her mind; even for a fraction of a moment¡ªher gaze moved towards his empty eyes for some odd reason before she closed her own in deep thought. The next moment...


    "I-I-I''m so sorry... I''m..." she moved inwards to his body¡ªwrapped her arms around Zabulus'' waist and hugged him, saying another ''I''m sorry''¡ªburying her face into his torso as she held tighter. Zabulus didn''t know how to deal with this, because he still felt a sense of disgust from what had happened earlier.


    She began tearing up as she feared the worse, fearing that she was scaring him away as it was very hard, ''How do you befriend a stranger again?'' she was a failure at trying to understand such feelings; why couldn''t she control her self, why was she so impulsive, why was she like this?


    Out of everyone that ever knew her... he was the only one not afraid of her and her ''monstrous appetite''.


    It just... didn''t... make sense for Zabulus¡ªthere is some way... She simply had not understood this concept: What she did to him did not cause him fear, rather... he saw her as another stranger he just happened to come across; this stranger who, for some odd reason, reached out and grabbed his hand. Alice didn''t even know who he was and here she was; like a true angel, embracing him once again, a thousand year old feeling. This hug felt the same... A single action meant so much to her, and him. And she continued.


    Why didn''t it matter to Zabulus that he was hugged by a girl with an inhuman appetite? Was it because he was worse than her? His impulses... why weren''t they¡ªwhat? Was he worried about that now? What kind of ''worrying'' man was he... Zabulus kept these thoughts aside and began paying more attention to Alice, instead.


    Alice let the other emotions take over as she began to feel relieved, she''d realize she could finally have this sensation of relief that she had once held, that it felt amazing to hug someone without fear of hurting them with her inhuman strength. She finally... finally... had someone she cared for.


    As soon as she came back to reality, a couple of people were looking their way; a lot more of these strange people¡ªwith very questionable eyes were pointing and staring at them now, probably making bets on how Zabulus would die...


    He cared not about this... "Look at these fools." He said coldly.


    She looked up at Zabulus expression. His awful, spiky grin made Alice shudder inside; but she thought no further. His thoughts were merely for his own, and he gave her a gentle, if not pained smile when he down upon her again and whispered.


    "Don''t worry..." She understood and let go of him. Footsteps that were his grew closer and closer to one of the men; who only grinned a sadistic smile that said ''you-re-next''. He ignored this man''s smirks¡ªtheir... existence, "Farewell," Zabulus said, as he touched the mans skull. He had begun feeling faint as something else took over his mind. Rather; his memories were being consumed by something very dark and¡ªand then as the faintness gradually disappeared, everything¡ªor almost everything in this world was gone for him. The next moment¡ªone other human man started to fall down and scream from the top of their lungs, to which people looked up with glee.


    They saw Zabulus as a threat, so they had gathered all the knives from their pockets, somehow¡ªsome men had taken out hunting rifles from a pouch that rested on their back with a cloth strap hanging off it; whilst one man threw a glass bottle at the man in front of him¡ªwhich exploded on contact.


    He burns. Oh he burns, but perhaps as a trick to reality and the world surrounding, this ''fire'' did not hurt nor ignited Zabulus, as Zabulus was made to become stronger at any means necessary.


    Alice felt her strength slipping away¡ªin her mind she felt¡ªhorrified at what she''s just witnessed. The man she''d cared for was being killed in front of her sight.


    ''What a disgusting, repulsive¡ªmonstrous waste of...'' Her mind began to trail away with these words that seemed to appear one moment... but the next, she was actually running toward the others in a rather mad manner... even if her hunger was not there. Even if she grew weaker by the second, she pounced from man to man, woman to woman.


    To those that could not get close fast enough, they fell¡ªwith their skulls torn open at an inhuman pace¡ªscreaming in sheer agony as she tore their flesh to tiny ribbons that danced into the air for all to see.


    It was an absolute massacre; everyone turned on each other until a few of the remaining men realized what they had done; to turn against another friend. These last two or three stopped fighting and instead attempted to flee the chaos, when Alice caught them from the air, and to their surprise¡ªtheir ''survival instincts kicked in''. Alice was made to take them all down. To massacre her peers before her, her strength gave her this surge of adrenaline she couldn''t stop in mid-massacre. She enjoyed what she''d been given, with each piece of flesh she tore to bits, with every drop of blood that spilled from them, their bones cracked into pieces at her fist''s strength. It''s such a horrible feeling, really, being forced to take so much, then having your insides feel as though they''re constantly at an unending fire¡ªwith everything inside yourself feeling like it''s burning itself off... or what does it mean when it feels as though your whole body is dissolving while also burning at the same time? Not that she cared to answer herself.


    Zabulus heard an ominous whisper that warned him, "you are a plague,"¡ªa voice that seemed to be both far away yet somehow within the confines of his mind. It didn''t make sense how that worked, but if anything was telling him off, he wouldn''t listen anyways. He had one goal in mind now, therefore, he would do anything to achieve it.

 Beasts of No Nation

    Everything around him turned black¡ªwhilst around the other few¡ªit was a horrific display of chaos as there were bodies strewn across the ground. Pieces of flesh that had been torn from them were like crimson flowers blooming¡ªdripping red-like pollen in the dirt beneath their lonesome carcass. It was no surprise some people started looking worried. The people¡ªthe ones still living¡ªwondered how the people¡ªthe people dead and still... dying, could do such a thing?


    Depressing, sad, how easy it seems for Alice to take one life after another; humans... she... devours and becomes one herself, feeding off others, hoping for anything; in a hope that something''s there to gain. Zabulus'' thought wandered the world and all the things beyond; his mind reached deep down into his consciousness; finding himself thinking it had all been one sick illusion after he looked around for anything that could give a sense of a person¡ªwhen he reached the edges of their memory and he saw darkness all around him.


    But everything was okay now.


    When he could hear a little bit of silence as he heard someone cry in their voice that had become hoarse. All he saw now is blood everywhere around him¡ªa city full of mutilation and slaughters. He was bleeding a black, ink-ish substance and he couldn''t feel his nerves anymore as Alice noticed and went towards him slowly. His legs felt like jelly as his arms slowly began to numb. He, suddenly, seemed to feel a headache¡ªa huge headache as pain racked his brain and causing his blood vessels to burst, making small spikes of blood drip from his forehead into his face. Zabulus took a step back as Alice carefully watched every move he did before grabbing his shoulders.


    She knew he was not okay. After all, he stood there like a fool, taking all the damage of the night away as if he wanted death.


    If only she was faster- she thought, if only she was aware of herself. But everything is¡ª was fine now, everything felt like it was all coming back. She saw... a little more clear. Maybe¡ªjust maybe the voices screaming out loud to ''eat'' others. She wanted them out, she didn''t want anything anymore, she couldn''t, she wouldn''t.


    Soon after the thought, Zabulus collapsed in her arms, still staring up at Alice in her tearful eyes. She was crying but... her mind¡ªthe voices began to say how selfish Zabulus was, then yelling at her for saving him... or worse yet... to eat him. But something told her not to. No, Zabulus should¡ªwas supposed to be saved. After all¡ªhe is all she''s got and she¡ªshe was all Zabulus got too.


    As his consciousness faded; so did time, melting together with space and he thought his body had melted into Alice as she held tight onto his unconscious body.


    But something made her stop as she looked above for a few moments... the noises within her skull¡ªit''s driving her¡ªto just do what she wants¡ªand¡ªit told her how delicious flesh tasted, she could feel her mouth watering up at its very thought.


    ''Nngh...'' she mumbles¡ª''Hnnngh'' her moans if frustration grow louder, Zabulus'' delicious body was a temptation just calling for her¡ªscreaming inside her head to consume him... to let these voices inside her win and be victorious... To be whole and true.


    But she simply could not accept this fate, she was strong, powerful. It''d only make sense that she kept fighting for her sake alone. A mere meal was not worth it if she''d turn out a sick fuck, more than she already was.


    Eventually, reaching a little cottage that looked a bit off-putting, this ''building'', looked just like the ones you''d see from a ghost story of old, being made of wood and having what appears to be, an actual working fireplace in one of its corners, while there was a small table placed nearby, with two wooden chairs set near it¡ªand what appeared to be, was most likely the restrooms was up on the second floor.


    To their right was a casket which probably stored whatever ''food'' lay there within its confines¡ªas that''s most likely why such a large box of a coffin had been built up from the ground floor to where it is now¡ªmaking it more obvious as there weren''t much rooms to the whole cabin besides a living space, the room she occupied at the moment, and another, smaller one...


    A man came down from there soon enough after seeing both Alice and Zabulus stumble upon their own feet¡ªblood seeping all over the place from them¡ªand looking quite wounded; then he led them to their own private living space where they rested inside. This place was his; an old friend of Alice''s. Rarely did they utter words to one another, it was more of a casual friendship, just someone looking out for each other, similar to how she used to watch her neighbors kid''s dog all those years ago¡ªonly difference now being that she wouldn''t even spare any second to do it again¡ªshe just did and moved on without so much as a ''hello''.


    Hunger came over Alice as she went into that little room by herself, throwing whatever came in front of her, with nothing more than sheer lust for food.


    The man, Laz, was an old medic who once served as one during the wartime before retiring as a field doctor¡ªafter a near death encounter¡ªhe went back to his hometown where he learned a certain use of an energy, allowing him to be the spiritual medicine man who dealt with anything out of place. However, all his hard work paid off quite well as he tended to Alice and Zabulus.


    Zabulus, still unconscious¡ªalive¡ªseemed to be not faring very well as the lack of a part of his soul was weakening his conceptual form¡ªreality in a sense; it appeared to be coming off him as his body continued to leak more dark ink onto the bed sheets. But he continued breathing, even as it turned to faint.


    Alice was still deadly worrried as she watched Zabulus''s condition, though, knowing there was nothing else she could do to help¡ªLaz noticed something odd happening and mentioned: "These wounds should''ve gotten worse¡ªwith no one''s hands upon his injuries, though the way this man lies¡ªisn''t the sign of someone''s physical attack and it just simply looked as though they went away. Something I''ve not seen before, quite strange for even me to experience..."


    He cleared up one or two things out of this mystery¡ªsomething unnatural was going on and Laz''s skills¡ªonly good with Reiki techniques, of course¡ªseemed useless as whatever, he tried doing, went awry from expectations...


    Alice... in her eyes¡ªsaw no one else other than this man''s body in such a horrific shape¡ªlying in his bloodshed pool upon this mattress where she lay, while thinking; it was such a gruesome scene¡ªa horrible situation to see the man¡ªZabulus was the one now fading, while he gave this image of something out of a horror movie to which, her tears fell heavily from them.


    To avert her eyes from the scene, she went to undress herself, and take a bath. As the acrid and pungent scent of fresh blood hung heavy in the air around her, it lingers within her nostrils while all those times before; she''d dreamt about finding out where this scent came from; having fallen asleep every now and then¡ªwhenever the world''s been rather too lively outside with life''s creation making such a pleasant melody¡ªwhen something popped up suddenly from their daydream, stopping everything for them until the memory of earlier events flashback through their mind yet again...


    She sighed and stepped in, the hot water giving comfort as she placed one foot after the other in; to help ease her stress levels from earlier tonight¡ªfrom such a hellish moment. She''d just killed people like it was nothing more than walking the streets or a regular occurrence while living, Alice merely ignored any emotions toward this, as it wasn''t abnormal. For all the Millenia she had lived, the amount of heads she''d separated from the torso would still probably reach into millions by now. However, killing these ''tainted souls'' never ceased to make her feel like trash¡ªknowing full-well, their fate afterwards¡ªwouldn''t even matter, but at the same time, at times like this, she''d wished she wasn''t what she is, however... It was fine, just... not perfect. And in a perfect world¡ªAlice wouldn''t exist.


    Her gaze shifted to the window to the left of the bath; only dark and gray forest trees to be seen along with their trunks looking dull underneath all that moonlight peaking its way into this cottage''s backyard, along with its shimmery glare cast over everything from outside, making it seem magical¡ªeven, and almost magical as her own reflection stared right back at her in the bathtub''s glass wall.


    She closed her eyes as she prepared to begin cleaning her face with water. Slowly she let it drip over and down, flowing down along the bridge between her cheeks, continuing over to reach the tip, pouring and dripping further, sliding downward against the neck, down through the chest, until finally hitting her navel¡ªslowly descending until nothing remained except for an empty feeling inside...


    As this took place, a silent laugh erupts quietly from him, coming from Zabulus, however, his body seemed perfectly fine¡ªin an ordinary fashion¡ªwhich wasn''t normal for the average man, not so fast at least. And the first words out his mouth, spoken clearly without pause: "I am what I am. A god, a demon or beast, that you cannot change, because it is simply impossible." Speaking to an audience that was absent, not a single trace of hatred or disgust¡ªjust simply talking to his mind''s eyes. But... no matter how much time has passed¡ªeveryone knew¡ªthat for him... they''d rather see someone dead than themselves be the one alive here.


    Some of his minds had returned, however so sudden it was, Zabulus stood up from the bed¡ªwith all strength left of himself and began walking outside to bask in the dull weather as a thin fog rolled out from nowhere, with only him walking about leisurely alone before, stopping near a bench to take in every inch of this scenery until it vanished behind his eyes forever, for he was sure it would be the only thing he ever remembered in such a peaceful time like now.


    Alice¡ªnoticing this abrupt moment of freedom for him to return, she grew to panic yet again, shouting "don''t do that." with her voice quivering a slight tone higher than usual, until he saw her standing just behind her, moving swiftly towards him, although... It was far too late for Zabulus; and Alice; if both failed to meet him.


    The moonlight¡ªon an interesting angle as if it had aligned itself specifically¡ªgiving them a moment of serenity between one another, where Zabulus and Alice stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Though, it only felt it that way. She couldn''t read Zabulus'' empty expression, till she proceeded to apologise for shouting at him without much thought.


    "It''s fine, though, it did hurt to hear." Zabulus joked half-heartedly. One thing he took note of were her cheeks, they were caved inwards due to her current state of having nothing but a pit in her stomach. Her dress; likely a different, yet perfectly replicated, gave off a scent of something other than strawberry as if that was the case, she was absolutely certain it was perfume she used earlier today, rather than the other night before meeting him.


    For her to realise, his words were now no different either, she wasn''t quite sure if what was being said were jokes. "I''ve never eaten human, I''ve only drunk off of animals and other beasts... never¡ª"


    A smile creases across his face, stopping her mid sentence, "that''s not true. The reason why we are here right now is because you, a human, devoured one of them, but that... that is your nature, is it not? I can smell a liar, Alice." Though, he didn''t mean that in any other way than speaking factually. But something in her mind''s telling her... he must have meant for her not to lie again... as... There wasn''t anything else Zabulus could understand of himself, but if this is reality...


    Zabulus isn''t like humans, he lacks compassion. But he understands all else that makes him whole, apart from all these tiny pieces within his own fragmented reality. Alice''s mind, however, began wondering if his lack of comprehension towards human actions is why he continues to live his own life, striving to understand it and have it as his own.


    "Hey, Zab?" Alice whispered. She continued "Do you understand my nature, that of a cannibal''s, when you can''t even understand humans?" Her words struck him as though a dagger had stabbed itself through him, twisting itself within the hole made there. She had somehow understood something so obvious to himself, yet he couldn''t put it into words till now.


    Was he to feel thankful here?


    "So you really can see me for what I am." Zabulus¡ªsmiled softly at the sight¡ªlooking her straight in those beautiful blue eyes. He found some joy in her ability to understand him so easily. A mutually assured satisfaction of their ability to know one another. A relationship built solely on the strength of both sides, with no particular weakness to be exploited.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "Haahh...." An old mans raspy and crackling voice spoke "You are like two peas in a pod." His words were more confusing than comforting, "What exactly... are you... two peas in a pod." before cutting his words short to end with a ''kchshhhhhh''... He had a weird way of speaking to others, always making it sound as though he needed air after each few words he uttered, but in reality he didn''t.


    With Laz watching over this whole scene of sorts, he figured Zabulus wasn''t quite that similar to Alice, although their natures resembled that of beasts.


    "You beasts of no nation, listen, humans are easily provoked, they act like chickens being chased by wolves sometimes... and their reaction to death is also what provokes them, if we make one simple move... our lives could be put to risk." What he was talking about? Alice. She was the main issue for Laz to maintain, although he managed to do so for thousands of years by this point, it seemed to be coming close to an end... and his last. "You know very well, even I, do not hold much of a will for my own actions anymore."


    Why was he being so solemn, he had his final stand at its worst. "Laz, what are you talking about? That was ages ago! You''re far older, yet way more immature than back then. Are you okay? Is your aging getting the best of you? You''re only six thousand two hundred and eighty three¡ªone years old after all,"


    "Shut it, stop changing the subject, besides that, you were also brought here for a specific reason," Laz began to wonder, why was she so irritating, so much of a pain in the neck for no reason whatsoever, unless, it was a biological trait women shared.


    "I wasn''t brought here by anybody... I was the one who came here of my own free will." She retorted, almost offended, "Wait... I forgot about Zab and... if I bring him along, I''ll bring Zab." And Alice realised, she was indeed there for a specific reason... But she wasn''t too happy to speak about that in front of Laz.


    "And you think I didn''t see you murder about a dozen men in town? Do you know how much that''ll take to clean up?!"


    She brushed off his remark. She really couldn''t care less¡ªfor the life of her¡ªbut... oh fuck, it did sound like he might start whining if she just kept quiet for the rest of the time she''s there. So, Alice settled on what to say... "Uhm. I''m soooooorrrryyy, Graaaandppaaaaa!"


    "Shut up, stop treating me as someone older!" Except he really was older...


    She was now thinking why was he so picky, his age. When the average age most eldritch creatures lived for was barely five-hundred to a maximum of three-thousand.


    Amidst their almost-familial banter, Zabulus lost interest and walked into the woods, leaving their vision for a moment, making them think that he wasn''t coming back, he did disappear, yet wasn''t seen appearing anywhere else around the place, when he turned around, simply going from the other end of their sight. He sat down behind a tree, now barely hearing anything they were saying.


    "....!" "...." "....''s...."


    ''Fuck them...'' Thinking how none of these events are worth his time, ''What am I doing here anyway, this isn''t my issue, those two should go together, why even bother with me?'' When he looked back towards where Alice was, seeing her movements and expressions as she spoke to Laz, he felt sorry for what he''d just thought and immediately disappeared from sight once again...


    When he first thought his situation was not his issue, it sounded as though, he would regret being a part of their mess later on in his future. However, now after seeing her so happy; maybe, he thought, he should help her, just as she helped him.


    ''Eyes up here.'' A voice that was not a voice, yet a voice that was a sound, sounding as though it were not from around but inside of him, said those words, reaching him inside of his head.


    When he looked up, there were nothing but a pair of one, two or fifty eyes from the trees above staring at him, bloodshot. He didn''t sense a single presence around him. And all noise ceased.


    When he looked down to inspect the ground for movement, the trees shifted slightly, making their sounds, he saw only their shadows over the moonlight shining brightly upon this dark forest ground, this dirt floor, along with its mud that absorbed into his legs...


    Looking up again to see what the shadow was, it was gone, but then it was everywhere, along with the voices he heard around him, with each eye belonging to a mouth, its words could not reach him because, every time, someone started screaming a lot of words he didn''t hear at the exact same moment, he couldn''t understand any of it, so he let them all carry on without bothering to reply back, ignoring them completely.


    He was terrified. His only thought, the only delusion in his head, was that decrepit corpse of a woman that had plagued him with her terrifying thoughts, haunting his every living moment till that very second.


    With one loud scream, he saw the world turn black, every single eye staring at him had exploded, leaving their innards floating all around him, with one large pile of meat lying before his feet. The ground shifted in colour like a sunset in a bad horror movie as the tree in front started cracking inwards into itself until it imploded.


    Silence returned¡ªalbeit it lasted for only a while, before those familiar whispers finally left, Zabulus couldn''t move an inch.


    He blinked, and everything returned to normal.


    When he heard laughter from somewhere nearby, not too distant either, he jerked his head towards where the sound was coming from.


    There they were, the old man, Laz, with his silver beard covering over his chest, and Alice, smiling, both of them grinning and laughing about whatever they were discussing in the past half hour. "Ahaha." It wasn''t funny though, though it felt hilarious, especially since he almost believed that Laz had just created a scene where nothing really occurred.


    He didn''t like the old man, nor did the old man like him. Perhaps a good time to think about how they could become friends? Zabulus just thought it might''ve been an excellent time to make a few jokes, because his first impression was terrible.


    And if that did not go as expected, maybe try to bond over something mutual such as an interest, though Zabulus didn''t have anything of note in mind that he took interest in besides his Godhood. Or... would he talk about the sky? No... Laz didn''t seem like a guy interested in what existed above the clouds, in fact, he couldn''t be certain if anyone ever would look that high upwards without feeling dizzy.


    This time he took note of the sky above and how... absolutely blue it was. It wasn''t just any blue that one would normally refer to when describing colours, this shade was purer than an ocean''s, the colour itself resembling deep violets and a hint of turquoise, giving its hue this royal outlook, its features reminded Zabulus of those calm waves moving within the ocean''s depths.


    "Void in Blue... Well, not void itself, but very close..." Zabulus quietly remarked under his breath. He glanced elsewhere with a slightly bitter expression, where the eyes should be. But of course there were none.


    Sighing, he decided to stand up a bit straighter before entering the cottage where both waited expectantly with each looking his way at that exact time when his gaze turned their way too. This should have been a moment he''d regret not putting himself first¡ªjust as always. Instead he didn''t; even a little. But perhaps he couldn''t... not that much at least, no, if anything, he could. And he did.


    A look between the two, back and forth, each returning glances, unsure if to say anything. Laz misunderstood the meaning behind these gestures, therefore spoke first. "Zabulus, what troubles thee so? Tell me what thy doth, how wilt thou suffer any further and I shall take pleasure in giving whatever thine wisheth."


    "Why the fuck are you talking like that?" Alice remarked, finding it irritatingly disgusting, "Can we not get back on topic with our conversation please. You sound so dumb when you try sounding all pompous and stuff. Like a Shakespearean or something. Now quit the bullshit and get your act together."


    With that, Laz broke out of his act as quickly as he''d put it on. "Oh shut up, who''s side are you on?"


    "Whichever gets us where we want, so don''t mess this up for both of us." Scoffing, she turns her attention to Zabulus and grabbed his hand, noticing the bloodstains. "Hm... alright, uh, I''m sure this isn''t very comfortable, come and get washed up, and be careful, don''t strain yourself too much," she instructed as her eyes were directed away from his face.


    Showing him around the cottage, she lead him to the bath, showing him its basics; while Zabulus simply nodded along with Alice''s directions, paying as much attention throughout. Eventually though, they reached the washing area and made sure he knew how everything worked and that he wouldn''t drown in water or soap bubbles.


    ''Would this remove that stench as well?''


    "Alright, so when you''re done and dried, you can join us downstairs." She looked away and quickly left the room.


    This is perhaps the first time he''d taken a bath in his existence. Every drop and trace of mud and grime coming off of him, as if it were trying to erase what remains beneath the surface; for now at least. His whole body, cleansed. It felt... like something. He didn''t understand this new feeling. What would they call this?


    ''Something so warm and pleasant. How peculiar...''


    The floral scent of the soap Alice gave him would cling onto his skin, causing it to reek. To keep others'' focus on his presence rather than themselves. It made him want to gag, how revolting.


    If his mind weren''t the product of what made his soul whole, his whole existence would''ve likely taken over all living things around him. At times, such feelings of disgust would flood through him. Causing him to throw up, vomit and purge his insides, coughing out blood. But now wasn''t such an occasion, so he felt okay enough not to try again.


    His eyes were drawn towards the open window overlooking the garden. Out of sight, an inaudible, invisible noise hummed a tune to Zabulus and him alone. And it sang in such beautiful harmony and melody, to create one that would make any such a masterpiece. He was intoxicated with delight, mesmerised by this exquisite masterpiece, it was mesmerising enough that his mind lost its sense of balance and his surroundings; to the point where he almost passed out.


    Managing to stay awake, however, he quickly got out of the bath before he collapsed and drowned. But his vision was blurred, as though there were no light. All he heard was the song that continued on as he fell flat on his ass and slowly staggered upright as soon as the noise began ringing loudly within his ears.


    "Shit." He cursed aloud. This caused an immediate change of scenery that went from normal to a distorted blur.


    "Zab?" A distant and somewhat muffled voice reached his ear, "are you ok¡ª" the voice faded away, replaced by complete silence. He looked to the source of the noise; but there was no one there.


    That wasn''t possible, for anything. He shook his head.


    "....n''t..." A faint voice sounded.


    He began walking closer, "don''t."


    "Stop," a little louder, more frantic.


    His stride halted; he moved aside. "No... come here..."


    That sound became a lot louder; he was confused and lost. The music was no longer pleasant, it had an anger, a rage to it. But its melody was still melodious nonetheless, its tone was powerful and stern.


    When everyone he has ever known speaks to him through such tones and actions, why does he do so as well? Zabulus wondered when he reached that epiphany.


    The music stopped suddenly; as a bird being cut in half dropped out from the ceiling. Zabulus, transfixed, didn''t take his attention off of the creature. He focused on watching what happens.


    The bird wasn''t dead. The bird wasn''t moving. Not because it was a carcass, but because it couldn''t. Its soul was broken apart. Its pieces separated and floating all over. Its memories scattered in the form of many bright yellow sparks of light scattered across the entire space around them. It reminded him of himself.


    Sighing and giving up on making sense of the world around him, he dried himself off, smelling the now floral odour, almost sickening at how potent it was on him now. Maybe if it was not that strong, he thought he''d have enjoyed having it on. Perhaps this scent was best suited to the outside world. He was not meant for such a scent after all. He''d seen too much that no one will ever live long enough to understand, unless he wanted to let the world suffer.


    Although a part of Zabulus felt glad to have found something different to look forward to, as opposed to having everything run so smoothly and without even a bit of a challenge, not a thing felt challenging anymore.


    Sighing.


    "..."


    This was a dream, surely this was all a dream, and when he wakes up, Alice, Laz, and his mother will be there. Awaiting his arrival in order to speak of whatever matters it may pertain to. No, this must have been a dream. Everything here is false, the past, the present and the future.


    After all, what was reality to the mind if not a memory of itself? The world''s been repeating in a never-ending cycle, a perpetual state, as nothing has truly changed except how each cycle differs in some insignificant way. Nothing will remain and nothing will change. Thus, all memory is false, because there is nothing true, no real identity. No consciousness. All will fade eventually. Even he was nothing more than a fragment of one.


    It is not reality and neither is it false.


    "Z-Zab? Are you ok?!" Alice called out worriedly, she opened the door to check up on him. But he appeared fine, his towel was not on his waist, instead hanging by hands. When she looked down there however, there was nothing to be seen. So, she averted her eyes away quickly.


    She averted them not out of embarrassment; but out of fear, fear that she''d hunger once again for his body.


    When the initial shock wore off, she realised something, something had happened while they were down talking, as to what it might be, she had a rough idea what could''ve gone wrong, her thoughts drifted to whether or not this is his first time bathing, did his kind ever bath before?


    "Excuse me but... could you please hurry up? You''ve been in there for ten minutes," Zabulus interrupted her thoughts.


    "Ah yes sorry, I should get going now, umm... Do you need any help getting dressed?" She asked awkwardly.


    Zabulus looked up for a moment then replied "No" before closing the door.


    The moment of consumate solitude ended in less than five minutes, as he came out in fresh skin that he had never felt like that before.


    Alice was nowhere to be seen, but Laz was sitting infront of a campfire, warming himself up whilst chatting happily amongst himself about whatever went inside his mind.


    Taking this opportunity to walk behind him and leave without being noticed, Zabulus sneaked. However, Laz noticed, "Hey, kid, how about you come here and have a little chat with an old man? It would mean a great deal to me."


    Zabulus flinched slightly upon hearing that voice, surprised.


    Then he turned around and smiled. "Alright then, sit down over there and I''ll bring us some nice warm tea."


    Laz disappeared, leaving an empty spot beside him, the flames lit up the inside of the small cottage as its smoke rose above its roof and disappeared into the darkness of night. Zabulus thought about going into the fire and sitting amongst the hot embers, enjoying its warmth and warmth it would give him as he took one sip after another, drinking hot water.


    Laz came back and sat down near him, with a forced smile on his face, a look like no other had ever worn one that was so convincing, nor had they ever appeared so convincing either.


    "So, let''s begin, how is everything so far?" And thus Laz''s unintended interrogation started off strong.

 Decaying Minds, Rotting Souls

    As soon as Zabulus had met them both, Laz and Alice, they knew something was amiss with Zabulus, perhaps they sensed he was too out of character, or perhaps they''d recognised something different about him that no-one else in their lifetime could tell the difference. Although he feared the imminent conflict that may arise from this little chat, Laz decided to test him first.


    He needed to be ready to act if anything went wrong.


    He started off simple, first off he asked Zabulus a basic question to gauge whether or not he''s dangerous, if he fails that simple question, which will result in no doubt whatsoever regarding Zabulus being hostile.


    Laz has decided to ask the most cliched and overly-used question throughout history: "How is everything so far?"


    Zabulus took a sip out of his cup, finishing the drink Laz offered him and placed it on a wooden table set right next to him. Taking in a deep breath, his response, "A bit more tiring than I would like but other than that I''m having a good time so far. Alice is a good person, and you seem very friendly, albeit eccentric," he responded before adding, "in any case, I wanted to ask you something."


    Laz eyed the young man in front of him skeptically, gauging his expressions for a possible lie or something amiss, the way Zabulus spoke about everything showed his honesty without missing a single beat. So he said, "Ask away."


    Zabulus sat quietly, searching the questions in his mind to see which would suit the most. And after a minute passed, he finally decided. "Do you know what the void is?"


    "The Void?" He pondered for a moment, then a realisation dawned upon him, causing him to shudder. That couldn''t possibly be possible. If Zabulus is asking about what he thinks it is, then how is he in Eskra? "Sorry, do you mean the Void in Blue? Or are we talking about two different ones here?"


    He looks into Zabulus''s eye, waiting anxiously for his answer. If he is correct with what he had implied then, there is no denying that everything here isn''t entirely safe, he had to tread carefully for this is a matter of life or death potentially.


    Slowly Zabulus begins to talk with an unevenness, "Well you see, my home is elsewhere. I do not know how I came up ashore in this land..." He trailed off as he started explaining, "I think, in some kind of event, I simply lost my consciousness and awoke here. But, yes, I do mean the Void in Blue... I heard the name from Alice." He kept talking further, and in detail about the thing he claims to have heard from Alice, and then slowly, the explanation had changed into something else entirely.


    "Do you still remember, or did you forget about it as well? I''ve forgotten what occurred prior to my arrival. Perhaps that might explain how I feel currently. Yes, I do not have an explanation myself." His words began making less sense as he spoke, making gestures as his tone continued getting harsher by the second. "Everything will probably end anyway. Nothing lasts forever."


    He snapped, and started fuming. "Yes, it''s as simple as that. Your life is not infinite, your love, or hate or regret. Your thoughts can''t exist for eternity. It is all nothing in the end." He continued ranting before stopping abruptly, as he stared blankly ahead.


    His words made Laz worry. His actions, speech, everything screamed ''run away.'' However, as always, he does what is expected, he keeps pushing things forward.


    So Laz chuckled lightly, "So, you''re saying the only thing that exists is yourself?"


    Staring at nothing to be exact, Zabulus replied, "Because what existed before you, could all be a byproduct of your own soul holding up its own sanity, no matter its age and the countless wars, they were ultimately a product of your own making, if not, it is someone else''s. Nothing but false."


    "Everything is a result of your soul holding its own sanity. In other words, this was a condition based on the idea that there is no evidence of anything truly existing before you, there is nothing to prove the validity of life, existence, or consciousness."


    "Haha, well if everything is so meaningless then let me give you an analogy. This analogy came from a great man once, by the name of Pugyum; he claimed his life is like a raindrop in a storm. Let me ask you this, what does a drop mean compared to the rain falling all around it?"


    A quiet laugh broke out between the both of them. Zabulus remained seated in silence for some time until he suddenly looked up towards Laz, his tone turning serious, "The point isn''t about everything''s meaninglessness, is it? Because if I were to die at this very moment, there is no greater consequence for me and everything else will be gone. I am not the raindrop, I am the storm."


    At this moment Laz noticed something terribly wrong with Zabulus, he wasn''t listening anymore, rather, his whole head was facing a different angle; and it seemed like he wasn''t seeing, more so listening to a third-person observer, except, his vision was aimed elsewhere, the direction of Alice. Laz followed his sight only to find that Alice had stopped and was staring at them both, a look of glee, and something akin to jealousy was on her face.


    Before he could turn away however, Zabulus grabbed his wrist and spoke harshly in a whisper, "Make the lady stop fucking peeping or else I might just decide to turn this entire building into dust and dirt."


    "Sure." And just as he said so, Alice averted her eyes away, as Zabulus released his hand and glanced at him momentarily, still looking at him like he''d just betrayed him, and to a degree, Laz guessed correctly that he indeed did.


    Was it that bad, for Alice to keep looking at us like that? It couldn''t be as bad, can it? No, not unless I get killed.


    Their little chat had been abruptly disturbed, yet as usual, Laz tries to make it normal again, by moving around normally as though nothing happened. He was more uncertain in his movements and sometimes did unnecessary things, such as reaching out for stuff, putting his hand into certain pockets, opening closed doors without needing to, and sometimes picking up an item on the table he knew wasn''t his own, placing it back down again, before sitting down next to Zabulus again where his legs started bouncing up and down rapidly, eyes darting everywhere like a crazy person who just escaped from an asylum and the very world they live in has become unfamiliar to him.


    "Well that wasn''t fun, at least we haven''t reached a point where we begin speaking about whether or not humanity can even be saved. I fear I''d be called insane before we got to discuss the future. By now, everyone would''ve seen enough and declared my opinion wrong." Zabulus broke out into laughter, "Isn''t that right?!"


    He jolted his head towards Laz with his hands grabbing his collar as his eyes glued onto Laz, forcing his hand back before getting a tight grip on his arm, pulling it to his neck. "You know. You fucking piss me off, with that wise-man act of yours. I can tell the things in your head are filled up with more ideas than it has to offer."


    Laz was helpless; being shorter in stature than Zabulus, he could barely even put up a struggle when being shoved back towards the wall. Yet in that short duration, he was able to register that, right below Zabulus''s eyelid, the shape of what can be assumed as a tear or a piece of mud-looking substance has appeared.


    Tears of anger, Laz wondered if it really was a tear, then why isn''t he sobbing or bawling his eyes out. Maybe it''s just a single tear, mixed in with anger.


    As for whatever made that tear happen, Laz couldn''t even spare the second to think about it. He was deathly afraid of Zabulus now, and in the face of confrontation; in the face of conflict...


    ....drip....drip....drip....


    Another noise is audible, causing Zabulus to let out a cough of shock before releasing his grip and retreating back.


    The next time the drop landed, it became noticeable enough for anyone to take note; and soon it became more and more obvious where it came from as it fell with a foul scent.


    ...drip..


    ....drip...


    A small circle formed and spread onto the wooden floor, before continuing its trajectory downwards, as a trail of liquid leaked all over... Laz.


    In face of the fear of conflict, Laz, The Spiritual Medic, had urinated himself.


    ......drip...drip....drip..drip drip...


    When Alice came, she didn''t need any explanation why everything here felt different and even less so of why she suddenly had such an urge to leave, the sheer tension created by Zabulus could be felt from the back of the room. And the horrible smell that she grew accustomed to, one that managed to destroy that appetite of hers.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    In an attempt to escape his gaze, Alice kept staring forward; away from his glare as she pretended to busy herself with something unrelated. Yet, every couple of seconds, she''d look over to where both men sat.


    Alice was appalled, but that didn''t currently matter to Zabulus.


    "Listen closely to what I have to say. You must hear what I have to say...listen," he hissed at Laz. His grip tightening and relaxing every now and then as his eyes darted around everywhere. "We are all dreaming right now. We don''t wake up because none of this is real. We live in a false world of our own making. You get that?"


    "Huh? No... o-of course not? I know that I''m a coward but... I''m not mad," he stammered. He managed to utter in his surprise and fear.


    A few moments of awkward silence ensued, and in those short moments, Laz understood perfectly everything Zabulus was saying. "Your life is that of a hero, a slave that makes money and has a purpose in life. There are others that try to prevent people from harm but your position isn''t one who defends everyone. Instead, it protects, not them but themselves and no-one else."


    Laz nodded, "And Alice''s life is of..." A migraine hit him. He hissed and shook his head. "Hahhh... Hahhh... Mmm. You must...understand...she isn''t real. She can''t be here, yet she can''t also be alive. Alice, Alice."


    He whispered in the man''s ear, "Everything you want to understand is just a dream. Don''t wake up." He whispered that last bit slowly and softly.


    What he wants? What Laz, The Spiritual Medic wants? Does he want her to be alive? Does he need her to be alive? Does being dead solve problems? Can a woman who''d given her heart away to others have any worth? Or is it the woman who constantly depletes human and animal lives like nothing? Does being alive change things for Laz, for him? Why would he go through this much trouble just because of a simple life. Why would he put others through this. He thought it wasn''t possible to feel hatred and anger at a person or towards people themselves. But she did. And the same thing is happening to Alice now.


    Why?


    What the hell does she have that''s special about her, so unique to the point no other has. Laz asked himself that as Zabulus explained everything to him, his entire body trembling. "You... You have a wife, but she''s dead. And this will be your reason to continue." He explained to Laz as his Being was usurped, leaving only his ego free, an instinctive reaction from the depths of his soul that tried desperately to retain its control.


    "It''s all true. If she''s dead she is gone. But not completely gone," He knocked on the wall behind Laz, "She''s up here, in your head."


    As this all unfolded in a matter of seconds, Alice, in her impulsive actions, decided to interrupt them for a split moment, stepping into their conversation and throwing all of her faith into it.


    "Um... Zab...? I didn''t intend on saying this but you''re kinda losing your shit right now, maybe you need something stronger than tea."


    She turned her back to leave as his stare intensified, focusing itself upon Alice and locking onto her figure. In a matter of seconds, the pair were practically glaring each other down. Zabulus spoke, voice growing quieter by the word, and hushed, "Sorry... I''m... what?" He looked at Laz''s condition in shock. "Laz.. What? Are you okay?" He asked, genuinely.


    Zabulus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, the last part he had spoken was directed towards the man. "I don''t... I don''t understand... This wasn''t supposed to..."


    And Laz responded, "Not supposed to... No. You''re right. She''s not alive..." Laz''s face broke out into a grin, "Alice, we have to find my son."


    "Your son? Laz, you don''t have a son. And what does it even matter?!" She screamed at him, as his grin continued on as though he wasn''t affected in the slightest.


    "What is it? Come on, you can tell me!" She pushed Zabulus aside and got a hold of Laz''s throat, staring him deep into his eyes and throwing all her feelings in, "Do it! Tell me what''s going on!"


    But alas, it was for naught, "If I can get him. Then... I could probably live long enough... So tell me,"


    "Fuck off! Stop your bullshit, you''re too pathetic for this Laz." In her right, he is being utterly disgusting. Even as Laz clutched her arm, she did nothing, just stared him dead straight in the eye.


    "Did... did he do this to you?" She asked and glared at Zabulus, hoping she got her message across to Zabulus as well. Her voice wavered slightly, but somehow, it grew, "Did he... hurt you? Did he say something stupid to you? Laz..."


    In a calm voice, the man replied, "No." Then it changed back into the one she''d gotten so used to, "He only showed me what''s right. What''s real. He showed me the truth." His face changed, turning into a wide-eyed, strained smile, while his forehead glistened. "And what''s really scary about him is that it''s hard to say that he''s not."


    Realisation. She was scared shitless, of the mere implication Zabulus did to Laz; her mind running wild with scenarios and possibilities and questions, with most of those involving things that just made her blood boil. She didn''t hear anything of what Zabulus had told Laz, but she knew. Her friend was in there somewhere, she was confident that he was not harmed nor corrupted by anything that would result in this sudden personality change. However, with each passing minute, she feared for what Zabulus really wanted, with no guarantee or hope whatsoever that Zabulus can ever even be saved. Not to mention how terrified he was and is, and the amount of danger that''s around the corner.


    What was the last straw that finally broke the camel''s back? She didn''t know, but she sure as hell did feel responsible.


    So as she stared deeply at Laz''s face, wondering why would the man look at her like she''s crazy? Or like she was possessed, it all just got her, she started tearing up. And a teardrop fell off her cheek onto Laz''s shirt as she trembled. "Oh..." her words halted, "I''m sorry," her shoulders shook as the tears wouldn''t stop coming, not until her voice broke.


    Zabulus wanted to apologise, but he didn''t want to interrupt them. This had gone on long enough, "We''ll talk about what''s happened tomorrow. I''ll handle Laz, you go to sleep somewhere upstairs. Please." She gestured towards the stairs, "Please?"


    He didn''t say anything in return, only nodding curtly before following her request and left without a trace.


    However, for what''s good to have a man walk the path to oblivion and failure is that no matter how smart, how cunning a man may be, there will always come a time in every mortal man''s life that they''ll need a little bit of luck.


    Such a state of mind can never truly be described without some degree of chaos. That very notion being at the root cause of one''s own desire is utterly useless. It is a symptom rather than a cure. In its purest form, a symptom, being an external force which directly influences the behaviour, health, or physical ability of something; a reaction to one thing affecting another in a specific way or direction. In its worst form, a cure, one thing causing a positive effect. This is what one might say in the future, when a woman like Alice could cause something to affect the future of an entire country or even beyond that. The same woman, being the cause for many things that have been happening.


    Fate was something to behold; even at its earliest stages. This fate could never have happened by coincidence. No matter how incredible or incomprehensible, it was nothing but a normal coincidence, for anyone else other than Zabulus.


    Laz was just a normal, regular man who made regular, normal decisions and went through a regular, normal life. Until one day, he was caught in the crossfire of a minor incident, that escalated into an entire war. If we''re talking in an omnipotent, omnipresence kind of scale, Laz was lucky, not only being caught in the crossfires, but also happening to be in an area that was unnoticeably easy to kill the most important people. The most critical and vital individuals who have an influence on the course of the war, whether for good or bad, but an individual like him was insignificant, almost non-existent in his land. An individual with no name, no title, no surname, no home, and no purpose other than survival. Just like a human, just like the majority.


    He would disdain this description of a normal, normal ordinary and a regular man, he thought that normal should always mean a constant. Or was it the fact that Laz always made himself out as special, no-one could tell, except maybe the man himself. Maybe he was special because, in an odd sense, he felt obligated to do more than just survive, especially when he had nowhere to run or hide, and even though he knew where his destiny lied, he did what his instinct tells him. To be useful to humanity.


    Perhaps, he was better at seeing others than himself and just took on those characteristics of his as being superior, thus, making his own worth go down and lower even.


    Nevertheless, such thoughts didn''t matter to him anymore; he was the one who, at the moment, had lost the fight. A mere speck of dust; insignificant and minuscule against the vast cosmos and endless universe. He knew that if there was such a concept as "luck", then, right at this moment, it could not have been a greater adversary than him, it could never be more unpredictable than him, nor more dangerous to those around. This was due to many reasons: the main ones being his status as a healer, his medical knowledge, and his inability to attack; and it''s what made him such an annoyance to be around with.


    Thus, why he was isolated in a cottage, away from all the cities and towns in Eskra, his only company being him and his former student. It''s what caused him to become trapped in a situation he wouldn''t have been able to deal with.


    There is such a thing as being lucky, but it''s impossible to use a blessing once it''s used up. Maybe he used that luck when he met her, or maybe not, he''ll never know. Not now nor in a thousand years'' time. He would have known his worth at the end, for the woman who had made this event possible, a woman whom he sees as his own daughter, Alice. It is now she who must shoulder her duty. The duty of making the choices.


    To act like a father figure, and protect and love her as any other normal father would.


    The days he heard her scream, loud, and full of terror, despair, rage, and fury. A cry that echoed in every direction, and no doubt, it would strike fear into anyone, man or beast alike.


    Then the storm came and drowned them all in blood.


    By her voice and hunger alone, her enemy would drown in her gluttony, the sea will quench her thirst with its dark depths, and then when their souls have reached the point of breaking, her words would echo from all directions, piercing everyone around, in a state that would surely cause madness to many. She wouldn''t allow mercy, but only those with true strength would be spared from her.


    Eventually, he would see the sunrise one more time and go back to where he came from, before the madness finally consumes him completely. That, being Zabulus himself.


    "Please," Laz pleaded with his hands trembling, "please don''t leave me."


    "Huh...?" Alice hesitated before giving up her attempt and stopped moving. She didn''t have the heart or guts to ignore or deny the pleading words of a man who is completely broken down, begging before her very eyes. Instead, she wanted to show him pity. Her knees dropped as she moved to embrace him, to show the kind of compassion, the sort of love he needed.


    Love? That word hasn''t escaped from his mouth for nearly as long as he remembers. Even he didn''t quite understand his desire or meaning. Yet he felt it, for the first time in what feels like eons. It wasn''t robbing him of his sanity, and it wasn''t drowning him or even torturing his body. It didn''t even seem unnatural or inhumane for him. It simply wasn''t anything other than strange and perplexing, leaving him full of questions that still remained unanswered. But for those questions, Laz thought to himself that it was unnecessary and unimportant, now that he is in her presence. That there was no point to question this phenomenon, something that he now, as of this moment, had come to realise.


    Laz let go of her reluctantly. The entire situation felt awkward. Usually, he wouldn''t let anyone touch him and would pull back; but Alice had managed to prove him wrong on that assumption, it felt comforting, and like nothing had changed. For all of these things, he was glad she was here to remind him how much he''d missed this, having friends who wouldn''t turn him against, feeling safe again.


    "Uhhmmm," Alice murmured in embarrassment. "I didn''t have you pegged down for an affectionate type,"


    "Wh-what do you mean by that!?" He defended.


    "Yea right. It''s fine. I wouldn''t dare ask," she turned and faced him, smiling wryly. "Yea it is pretty nice. Hugging. Thanks Laz... and, you''re welcome." She turned and faced away as if she had wanted to keep everything a secret between them two alone. He understood.


    Alice and he stayed silent in their spot, leaning into the wall. That lasted several minutes, before Laz spoke up in an exhausted voice, "Zabulus is a good man, alright? Just, be careful..."


    The room was illuminated once more with light from her fire. He found Alice laughing, but that laugh turned quickly into a seriousness. "Haha," the laugh didn''t sound genuine. "If you say so, Laz."


    Snore. Laz was now snoring, having fallen asleep as Alice was laughing. Snore. His head dropped to his chest.


    "Sleep well. Thank you," she spoke softly.


    With a deep breath, she left the room. Walking up to where Zabulus was, she entered the attic, and in a low and serious tone, "We have¡­ stuff to talk about..."

 Where All Good Dreams End

    It was the voice of someone who was turned away by those she thought loved her. When someone betrayed her or treated her like dirt under their foot. A girl so scarred and scared. Who wanted so badly to scream out for help. To beg for mercy.


    It was the voice of a demon who would burn you with a touch, freeze you with a stare. It was the voice of death, who brought on your life. When someone came across her in the night, she could make you suffer like no other, she could cut you open and you wouldn''t even know.


    Zabulus'' face softened, "Do you have any questions?" He asked calmly, but there was an urgency in his voice that caused the girl to hesitate. He needed a distraction from the situation.


    "What did you say?" She inquired curiously. She had never heard him speak in such a manner before. There was still a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but it was enough to prompt him.


    "Alice..." His breath hitched. "I... I don''t know. I don''t know what I said, alright?" He had his hands all over his head. A tired expression appearing upon his face. His eyebrows furrowed tightly as if there was an issue weighing heavy on him, "I-it wasn''t even-"


    "Enough." Her expression went back to a grim look. "That''s fine." She crossed her arms together and her head hanging low.


    "Listen, Zabulus, when Laz''s in danger... that''s no excuse," her tone, low, was sharp.


    The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as his grin returned again. He could feel the anger boiling up inside him as he tried desperately to hide it, but it was beginning to get harder with every moment that passed. "It seems that even now you won''t give in." He gave a humorless chuckle, "You are a stubborn woman. One of the qualities I admire, yet despise at the same time," In his own right, a part of him couldn''t believe his own words. Perhaps the little bits of sympathy in his heart, or something deeper still. His mind drifted back to his conversation with Laz not long before. He let out a frustrated sigh. "But... you know, I''m sorry about what I did and all." Though his words did not sound genuine, his tone told differently. "Just tell me, why did I have to go through with this? Why can''t you see reason?"


    As if hearing his thoughts, she replied, "It doesn''t work that way Zabulus, no-one should do those... things."


    "Things? What things?"


    "Like whatever the fuck you did!" her temper rose again, "Because clearly that''s a ''Bad Thing'', it''s fucking bad." Her voice cracked at the last part, "and... I just... listen, I don''t want you to turn into a horrible person like everyone before you. It''s not what''s fair. None of this is!" Alice''s eyes started to burn with the tears that were falling. She couldn''t stop them now, she just wanted to break and cry. Her throat had constricted to the point that even breathing was difficult as she tried to compose herself.


    ''What a crybaby she is, huh?'' Those thoughts of his made him want to smile a little bit.


    "What happened here isn''t what I wanted Alice. We... both needed to understand that. It''s not all lost though, I think." A voice in his head was yelling at him to just drop all the shit, get out, and go home already. Yet here was his stubborn side, that always believed in him to take his stand no matter what. But a third voice, far smaller than the other, screamed in agony. The sheer amount of shame and regret in him was beyond belief and almost unbelievable.


    There was no justification, nor reasoning. Yet even then, there wasn''t a need to apologize or justify his actions. Simply, on the inside, he was confused. Was this all truly worth it? For whatever cause that he believed so strongly and surely in; yet in the end, did all he just accomplish was create a bigger mess and solve nothing? Did he even truly feel right about the idea of leaving all behind for some ideal of his?


    Maybe so, but it feels better to just push all of those questions aside. "Laz had been protecting you for so long, and look at how much harm and pain that has done to him... he needed to break this cycle before someone else was hurt." Zabulus broke his own thoughts off and let the silence fill him once more.


    "What do you know about what Laz had done for me? What do you know what I would do!? You-" she choked off, not wanting to continue anymore. She really didn''t want to let him end up hurt. Her thoughts drifted towards Laz and the events in her life for several minutes after Zabulus went silent as they both sat there awkwardly.


    The room around was awfully dingy. The walls were damp, the floor felt like cold steel. Every little sound reverberating back and forth. If one really were to think about it, it would feel quite depressing, but oddly calming. It was storming on the outside, so perhaps it wasn''t too terrible that a heavy atmosphere engulfed her, even though that meant it felt more stuffy.


    Then Alice wondered whether there was an attic or not, but immediately shook that thought away because of course, there is, she thought, don''t be silly Alice.


    One noise, however, was seeping into the back of their minds. It was a calming tone, a soothing melody. Zabulus sat down opposite to her, fidgeting uncomfortably as he glanced around. At times, his eyes locked onto his fingers as he picked at his nails. His breathing was labored.


    Soon as the melody sat in his mind, he looked directly to Alice and mouthed:


    "Are you the only one?"


    His eyes seemed to soften while looking at her. Perhaps he was trying to gauge whether or not she heard it.


    Alice raised her eyebrow slightly at him as she noticed the sudden shift in his posture and behavior, almost like he wasn''t present before and now that he is, he felt better. Her gaze hardened as her pupils widened slightly. They stared at one another for a few minutes more, their lips thinning, their skin tightening over their jaws. Her expression became that much more uncomfortable; her knuckles grew paler and whiter.


    There are no means for their senses to be heightened with their emotions right now. Their surroundings darkened to near pitch, with the faint light reflecting through the window. The thunder rumbles and the rain keeps pouring. Alice''s hand trembled as she grabbed hold of the wooden stool next to her.


    Sweat covered them both, their mouths moving in a strange fashion as they continued their staring contest. After another moment, Alice relaxed as much as she could and allowed her breath to pass from her lungs. It was deep, slow breaths and soon, with an exhale, she found her hand slowly creeping up along her neck towards her chin.


    "...Huh?" she whispered. She blinked.


    A smile creeped across Zabulus'' face and in an instant his demeanor changed. The way he carried himself, the way he breathed, his posture... It was once again, like how it used to be.


    He spoke once more: "It''s you." He motioned towards the violin.


    Alice''s breath hitched as she looked in the direction where it was being played. "Why is it... playing?"


    "Who knows." Zabulus said in a mocking manner. "...Was there always a violin in the room?"


    "No."


    "How come."


    "No idea," Alice''s brow furrowed. The song started off very sweet and light. And slowly... gradually... progressively... grew... increasingly louder... Neither of them dared to stop its music... as if enchanted with magic to hear it... As its music played, Alice felt something else too...


    Fear. An absolute fear. Something... isn''t right. Alice was sure, but this feeling... could there have been anything worse? Anything even worse than a Banshee crying?


    Their ears didn''t stop picking up, nor their nerves dying. Instead, they grew worse. Everything was so eerie, even if no one else were here but Alice and Zabulus, it somehow felt full of life. She wondered, what made her so happy that the heavens cried? What did she gain or what did she lose that made her feel these emotions?


    The melody would then transform into a faster pace, growing darker by the minute. A classical tone, that reminiscent of an old orchestra; and yet, somehow, still reminding her of an instrument with a soul of its own. His fears started taking him to a place of great darkness, and that is when his mind starts replaying those old memories over and over again.


    The orchestra, being led by the Violin, changed into a darker tone as the darkness threatened him, and the clouds swallowed him, bringing him to a deep place. Alice stared wide eyed as the instrument sounded like a million voices whispering all at once.


    Chords of a minor key followed, as well as chills crawling over the skin. Alice''s own voice became hoarse as she listened. She could not utter a single word.


    Chords of a major key followed, the room lighting up a little brighter, giving way to some hope for both, although neither could hold onto much.


    Chords of a dark theme followed, changing the room. It became very cold and very empty. Chords of a light theme. Alice''s smile returned.


    She took a deep breath. And exhaled.


    Her lungs began to burn.


    The music, again, transformed. Now the violin was leading a fantasizing melody, taking on a lively tone, as if a song had been given birth to a child who loved life itself. This could be called happiness, maybe even euphoria. But then, there came despair as well.


    They both were in a trance at this point, where listening to and feeling the music was as natural as breathing was to them. Alice''s fingers touched the wall before her, making a strange noise as they dragged across the wooden surface. She touched her hands. Touched the ground. Touched her nose, and she noticed that her body lacked senses.


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    How can one not feel the body? She wondered as she watched herself touch a nail.


    Zabulus placed both hands on the table. He stopped breathing as he kept staring blankly at her. There wasn''t a shred of any emotion in his face, just emptiness. Complete and utter emptiness. The overload of emotion from the melody destroying his mind entirely, rendering him as little more than a husk. He couldn''t think properly. The room wasn''t even bright or dark, but had no shadows or substance to be seen.


    But then, it stopped.


    There was no Violin. There was no music.


    Yet both sat completely still, neither having moved since the music ended, staring straight ahead.


    Severe pain and disbelief followed... and so did everything that''s happening within their heads, causing a mental shock wave to spread around. Both minds have shattered. It hurt to listen.


    It burned like fire. It feels fantastic. Yet, no physical sensations registered to the minds of either. Their ears felt warm and light headed, causing each other to moan, but nothing physical caused them any pain or discomfort. They could barely talk or even move properly.


    "Unable to react to things... are we?" A man''s voice was heard. "Don''t fret! All of you will be gone soon..."


    The first time they heard it.


    ''Wow...'' was the only thing that Alice could comprehend, before blackness engulfed everything she could have ever possibly had known of. "But first, allow me to tell you the rest of the story..."


    After waking up in the darkness, both Alice and Zabulus were in a state of panic. They struggled to remember themselves or to realize where they actually were, nor had any concept of anything else.


    Memories poured back to them, allowing them to understand exactly where and what kind of situation that they have ended in, though.


    The mans voice reverberated like an angel''s call, however it felt tainted. "I won''t hurt you. At least, not yet." His words sounded reassuring, yet none the less he continued his speech. "That little boy, you know his name as Zabulus. I cannot see into his soul, because it''s very dark. The darkness in it, it''s inexplicable, it''s hard to see through."


    "Is it what made him..." her voice trailed off into silence.


    "No. What you''re seeing now, all this darkness," His gentle yet cruel voice. "It''s the mark. The mark of his soul, this is what he is." Words that didn''t need to be spoken. "Just wait a little longer."


    Both heard his voice as he spoke. A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice. It held a certain melody to it, almost like an orchestra that made people fall under a spell, or it might have even been from somewhere faraway, an unknown country maybe... or perhaps from a different universe, yet the exact details are unknown.


    Slowly and surely the music lulls the victims into a deep, yet hypnotizing, sleep. A complete hypnosis. Nothing could stop them from falling, not even their own free will. A feeling like falling into an endless hole with the promise of waking up after falling forever...


    Or not.


    Zabulus'' conscious returns first, forcing him up, causing his body to collapse with a loud thud onto the floor.


    "Ahh fuck..." His cursing is a mixture of a curse and a plea to whatever is happening.


    Alice, on the other hand, was struggling to catch her breath. Her body refused to wake itself. Her muscles ached, her heartbeat irregular. Her whole body shivered, despite the warmth of this room. Her limbs are useless.


    "That''s too bad, dear." His voice broke. He sounded sad, but not angry. Then he laughed lightly. "Look, if you think you have what it takes, then stand up. That devil himself, whom I have seen, he wasn''t as weak."


    Zabulus pulled himself together as he struggled onto his hands and knees, only to crawl over to Alice in desperation, as he saw the man extend his hand to her neck, his long sharp fingernails gleaming in the light of nothing, reaching out and brushing it over her soft skin, before sharply pulling away with the pain from her flinch. He had never seen someone flinch in such a way, it had to have been excruciating. He pulled her over and lifted her head, her eyes struggling to open, her hair a mess and tears flowing, bloodied and bruised. It was clear from the start that she was damaged somehow.


    His body wasn''t doing anything, the pain being much more significant then any wounds would have.


    Crawl...Crawl...


    "Awake! Now that''s more like it! Don''t be like a devil-boy." Alice opened her eyes as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Zabulus immediately felt something like guilt forming in his heart, like never before. Her face turned a paler shade of white. She couldn''t move. Her voice is lost and she can''t scream.


    His hat falling over his left eye, he shifted closer to her. His breath felt hot and heavy against her cheeks.


    "Aren''t you even afraid?" The man started chuckling and was about to speak once again when her body tensed, stiffening in pain. "Or are you simply too foolish?"


    Crawl...Crawl...


    Alice forced a cough, spitting her mouth up with blood.


    "Well? Cat got your tongue?" The man crouched down onto the floor, gazing over the body in front of him, inspecting her.


    "You motherfucker." A big, long smile crept over Zabulus'' face.


    Crawl.


    His hubris shining like the sun itself, his inner drive and urge for perfection burning with a white light and purity, as if someone had struck him with lightning. His ''eyes'' burned with passion and hatred as he stared straight at the man, hatred burning in the gaze of a phantom. The man perhaps did not notice Zabulus'' presence, or he did not care at all. His gaze turned back at him; his face appeared aged and lined with creases, his teeth broken, and his lips stretched tightly against his face, leaving only hollows beneath them. His clothing was a simple trench coat and gloves, with black boots on, making his overall attire blend in well to the environment around him, especially with a fog.


    The smell of rot and decay surrounding them both, their eyes the only sign they could see each other, with the sole exception that Alice had locked eyes on him first.


    "Oh, so the devil-boy indeed ca-"


    Crash. The sound was unmistakable. The man crashed onto the floor with a sickening thud. He rushed to the man and kneed him on the face. Now with a broken nose, his face was drenched with blood.


    "Look...at what you''ve become... a weak, human failure... all for a little human bitch." His voice was raspy and low, barely a whisper, yet still somehow loud and commanding.


    Blood streamed down the side of his mouth, leaking into the crevices of the wood beneath him.


    "Who are you? What do you want?" Zabulus growled, getting right up to his face, as close as he could, breathing down his neck.


    "Hmm? Shouldn''t have expected any better. I have yet to introduce myself, I will start with my name..." Although his face was battered and bruised, he grinned up at the two, his eyes practically shining with excitement. "My name is Vetro."


    And he coughed a large chunk of blood into Alice''s face. A devilish grin filled the corners of his mouth as a familiar smell fills his lungs, that same coppery odor which makes his nose feel numb.


    "Not very creative are you?" Zabulus questioned, raising his eyebrow in a sort of nonchalant manner, his tone dripping sarcasm.


    "How rude, my parents wouldn''t agree." The words came out bitterly, without remorse. "Name was given by the demons. Been keeping this for long. Never wanted to die alone, but well..." his face contorted with disgust, he glanced back to her, her face a mask of confusion and anger, eyes turning away from the mans face before her hunger would play up again. "Well... Well, perhaps my name should''ve been said when my children died, since you''re all not getting to be forgiven by god."


    Vetro laughed coldly. It sent chills running up the spine of Alice, whose whole body trembled as she plugged her ears tightly. She shut her eyes tightly. She wanted the nightmares that played through her head every day to disappear, and it did the trick.


    "What are you saying? What the fuck do you want?"


    "I''m going to be fucking dead before you start to live, so why not finish off what I have started. All three of us, dying as one, it''s my idea of the ideal death." It would be fitting for him to die with his ideals, rather than to die with his regrets.


    " I don''t give a damn about what you want, and I certainly don''t need an excuse for this. All I need is a reason why you attacked us. Is it the violence? Or the fact we have done something that displeased you." He snarls, eyes rolling back, and ''fangs'' grow larger and longer.


    "Don''t you remember that you were cursed by your mother, Nameless Demon? Do you seriously forget about that?" A devilish grin graced Vetros lips and with that, he laughed, louder than ever. He was proud to say he would never remember such a thing, nor would he ever have the courage to go against his mother.


    "What do you know about me?!" He kicked Vetro''s chin.


    A groan and a shout of pain. That''s all it was. He wasn''t the kind to listen to an enemy who has already been defeated. So he continues with his taunts. "I can see... into your soul... you suffer just as much... and have suffered... even more." Vetro kept laughing and it grew into a loud cry. "AND ALL YOU HAVE...IS LOSS."


    Silence.


    And suddenly.


    It clicked.


    All those voices came at once, filling his head, it was difficult to concentrate. He hears that voice again, like a million others. "Remember that moment, when you first see your mothers and the children together, and see her looking at their son with an expression of complete and utter contentment?"


    A sudden memory entered his head: the way that his mother held her hands to his face. What did she feel? Disgust? Horror? Surprise? Sadness? Fear? Did it make his mother fear the world so much that it drove her crazy and she decided to punish him by cursing him? How does he know all of this?


    Why did her mother decide to sacrifice her only child''s life?


    "Remember how that boy turned into a demon?...how he got his 10,000 eyes...his 7,000 teeth, his 4000 tongues...? Yet... you, you were the usurper. A usurper of life! A usurper of soul!" His eyes rolled and his face became distorted.


    What could be seen behind the face were not mere eyes of terror, but the pupils and irises, glowing green with a ghastly shimmer... and underneath his entire face, skin stretched and white as a sheet.


    "...you''re still the only demon."


    For a single brief second, his eyes lock with Vetro''s. For another brief second, Vetro seemed to hesitate.


    "You know what you did to me? You took away my child. She died. My baby died because of you." And in this exact moment, something has snapped within him. The thought alone was unbearable to think about, it''s so awful, it made him nearly lose control. But he knew what he was talking about.


    The memory of a child, the memory of a child once blessed by Zabulus'' mother, but the child was lost. It was scared, screaming, and crying with its arms outstretched for her. The vision came quickly, almost frightening him with its clarity. It didn''t scare him in the least, rather he laughed at the horror that had entered his head and ran rampant.


    "What... are you laughing at?! Agh..." Vetro coughed blood, a laugh bubbling to the surface.


    "The truth... it seems, it was my destiny. The child, you and my mother... your relationship..." He grabbed the Vetro''s throat again, though, unlike before, this time it is tight and controlled. "Yes..." His voice was overlaid with a hint of malice. "I am the Usurper...YES! The little prince must get his revenge... Bite down his enemies. As his teeth, his jaws. His maw..." Zabulus mocked Vetro, as his fangs were shown.


    With a crackle, he snaps the neck of his opponent, yet for some reason the voice inside his head did not shut up, it only screamed louder, as Vetro continued laughing hysterically. "It''s true... you cannot kill. Not as your are." His face was almost ripped in two. It looked gruesome to say the least. "Be a victim once more!" He pushed him backwards and began to scream into his ear.


    Alice, during all this chaos, had barely moved a muscle. Everything felt weird, all this shouting, yelling, and everything in between.


    And for some reason, all these voices and screams are echoing off the walls. Laz was still limp, lifeless.


    Zabulus'' face dropped with a disappointment. "Can''t...kill?" And then a wave of power slammed into him. A powerful, vicious, unstoppable wave.


    Suddenly a thick liquid poured out from his eyes and out from his throat. "I, cannot kill?" And this thick liquid flowed out of Vetro. His body melted right down to the ground. It was completely disfigured. His blood boiled into the soil and evaporated to smoke.


    But Vetro looked back up at Zabulus, still alive. "Not yet..."


    That was the last straw. Alice''s mind had gone completely blank, blank like a white canvas with nothing except black ink spilling, like a tear of sadness dripping off the canvas, staining and blackening it further with all her bottled emotions.


    "Please...let''s just... go back..." the words are mumbled quietly through her trembling voice, but somehow, and somewhat, he was able to hear it, but he was too distracted with his rage.


    With one of his other hands, Zabulus placed it onto Vetro''s face, siphoning his memory out of him. "Hmm... yes, memories... wonderful... let''s have a look shall we."


    Rock, all around. Wind, a vast field of sand and desert, endless. A creature made from flesh and blood, made from the core of the earth, crawling out, teeth in rows like needles, big and small fangs, four hundred tongues coming from each side of the jaw.

 10,000 Eyes, 7,000 Teeth, 4,000 Tongues

    The rock-filled desert, vast and wide as the skies are high.


    "Hello? Is- Is anybody there? Please!" A man''s voice is heard. A human-like being that is, no horns, no tail, no fangs, no claws and no wings. He was frail as glass, mind lost, thoughts scrambled. All was the same in his head: emptiness.


    The feeling of dread and terror are foreign concepts, until the next part of his being was unveiled. The sand blew in waves, forming a barrier that threatened to separate him from safety and comfort. In his hand was a carefully wrapped, infant shaped bundle; as he looked, tears ran from his blood-red eyes, perhaps his memory and vision, was being shown as a vivid experience. The dream was so clear, so distinct, it was no longer possible for him to believe this was fake or merely a fantasy.


    "Please, can someone help?!" He shouted into the empty wind.


    "Mmmmhhrrraaaahh...." A muffled cry. The baby sounded weak. "mmmmnnnn!" The cry was now a scream for attention.


    "Please stop crying... Not again..." As this was happening, his legs were giving away to the lack of strength. His knees hit the sandy dirt.


    The desert continued on with its battle. Not just the wind, but also the sound. It was now accompanied by thunderstorms, bringing about rain that had a foul stench, which left him soaked. There was also lightning, creating a giant electrical discharge to strike a massive area. A lightning bolt.


    With another piercing cry.


    "Why can''t you die?! What did I ever do to deserve this?!" Desperately attempting to get any form of communication, his mind went haywire with silence. The ground began to quake. As the earth rumbled, his legs gave out entirely, slamming his knees onto the wet stone.


    "What did I do?!" He let go of the child.


    "Not again!!"


    And for a long, long while, his entire world fell silent.


    And then he woke up, the child crying from within that bundle again. The sky is blood red and the atmosphere has changed, drastically.


    The wind howled, deafening him. The landscape had changed; now a forest with mushrooms for trees. It was a pleasant experience; no sounds or any sort. The mushroom-trees swayed, blowing gently like a breeze; this place looked so serene.


    He picked up the bundle and went under the cover of a giant shroom, holding the bundle in his hands as he attempted to comfort his bane. "Calm, calm, calm. No worries." But this only had an opposite effect. The bundle¡ªChild¡ª only cried louder.


    As it cried, the bundle began to change shape where the head should be.


    ''What... is going... on here?'' He questioned, panic finally taking hold of his sanity. The mushrooms slowly started to form into human-like shapes. ''Oh god...!'' His body started to heat up. He covered his head as he looked down, tears beginning to leak, mixing with the blood leaking from his ears. The child was becoming twisted in its own making. The man started to shake as if cold. "No... no..." The forest had begun to come alive and stare at him, whispering sounds in the air.


    "Please... No, anything but this...! I-I didn''t... I didn''t want to be here!" His voice kept breaking, sobbing uncontrollably. His tears turned into rivers of blood. They formed into puddles as he continued crying out for help. "Leave me alone!"


    Silence. The world around stopped moving. The child stopped crying. Only silence remained. He opened his eyes. In his hands, no longer an infant shaped thing, but something that should never have been, the face twisted in such agony it''s impossible to tell if it were meant to cry or scream.


    Its eyes; glassy and dead, wide and empty. No sign of recognition or consciousness. It looks like the person who designed the monster would have known what would be best for his creation, his only living thing. There were not 2 of these eyes, not 50, but 10,000. Fit into the entire body with ease. 7,000 sharp teeth for a jaw, teeth that would rip and tear like a dog''s; 4,000 tongues, each that would lash out in quick succession and without warning, darting at the nearest human or animal, to eat and drink the juices from inside, to feel the sweetness flowing across the surfaces. It was beautiful. It was disgusting.


    How did you miss me, with those 10,000 demonizing senses all around you? It made it sound like somebody was calling to the man, asking, no, screaming at him, the volume, increasing, no decrease.


    The ground shook violently. Trees uprooted, the sky cracking into millions of pieces. This world was dying. The earth beneath was screaming, pleading with the world to live. Begging. Hoping. Trying to breathe as every drop of water was leaving and bleeding dry.


    The abominable child in his arms was now laughing. It was laughing innocently, as though it were trying to amuse itself and cheer itself up. ''Who is this being...?'' Its laughter made his eardrums and skull feel like exploding with his brain and bones, a pain, like they were being pushed and compressed.


    Suddenly, his sanity and senses of reality took over once again, and all that is left to see was him, standing there. He is completely alone and without hope. Only with a mission at hand and a desire of revenge on his own kind.


    A kind that were neither Angels nor Demons, but were often called upon to play the parts. ''And as I think this, I am free to do what I wish to them...''


    He was free to do anything.


    Even die.


    In this life. In this body.


    Yet this will all change and begin again tomorrow.


    He covered the child once again in the blood red sky and began walking forward with new energy and hope.


    The abominable infant began to hum, its voices drifting off into silence. ''But you won''t live through my suffering, even if you should. Because, the longer I lived... the farther from a normal being and mortal state I became.''


    An infant of a thousand nightmares. Of a million monsters. That was his child, but his life wasn''t that, and neither is his destiny.


    To fulfill the destiny his father had made for him. He now carries his child; in his hands and mind, heart and spirit, all four, all at once, all that he possesses, he will be used against humanity.


    Sacrificed to bring eternal rest and peace for humanity, no more sacrifices after.


    No more suffering like this, no more darkness and death, no more unholy voices in the air, no more fear and misery, no more misery and anger.


    But for him to sacrifice a child, a child that was neither Angel or Demon, he had to play the part of a Demon.


    As he walked down the path of this hell he''d created for himself, the red sun looms ever closer to setting, shining a sickening red.


    Every single detail was very visible, almost painfully bright. It was shining dark and hot out, too.


    ''The sun isn''t supposed to have a face, is it?'' Yet it stands, following his every move like Big Brother watching from afar, keeping an eye on his most favourite, dangerous toy, as the man reaches up to feel his face, which was smooth and lacking any trace of hair. He isn''t able to see his features due to the amount of black markings which covered his entire face, he takes off his mask and throws it away, which revealed the many thousand eyes upon him, it seemed he couldn''t contain the laughter well anymore. He laughed, so did the sun. He stopped walking. And watched the sun, shining a dark and bloody red on his skin, tainted like the ocean of blood from when the Amalgamates came out. He held onto his child as he laughs.


    He laughed and laughed. He laughed harder and deeper, more and more. Soon his entire chest hurt, lungs contracting, heart pounding with the sound. Crying tears of happiness as he stared straight up at the sky, red as a piece of raw meat. ''Ah! How blessed I must be, to live in such a happy and fun life...'' His hands started twitching as the madness intensified and the tears kept running. His eye twitched violently, sweat streaming down his cheeks. He breathed in harshly, and his breaths began shaking. "Father, father, will you leave me here alone, is this all the gift you''ve given me?"


    He bore a sick smile as he opened his mouth to scream.


    Scream, Frail One!


    "Will you leave me behind, abandoned in this dead-end world?! Will you forget about me, just like you always did when my brother wasn''t there with me?!" The child began to cry a devillish and ugly noise. "Why couldn''t you, why can''t you just show some remorse...?" Tears filled the sclera of his eyes. "Is this all you can do to keep my mother by your side...?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And gently, and softly, as though a delicate flower had broken into two, he had calmed. The child has fallen asleep after all that pain. ''My father and mother. My brother... my real family, have gone, vanished in the foggy mists, lost to oblivion... all I can do, is wait for the day when everything will fade into the same colour...''


    The void in blue, where he could lose all control, but lose everything and still be aware. The void in blue, where he was born, and ultimately where he would die. The void in blue, his new home.


    ''Now my mission is to end the suffering of this realm... now... how will I die? Maybe I''ll take an unlucky guess and try something really, really dumb.''


    He continued on his walk, without care for anything in the world, walking around the corner, facing a small puddle of water in the floor. He looked down at it, all the eyes on his face, all the faces reflected upon it, the mirrors that show the darkness that cannot see beyond itself.


    A chill ran through his spine as he spoke to the glass-eyed corpses that floated atop, suspended by the very reflection of himself.


    "Looking glass cadaver, may you spare me, spare me? This unfulfilled life." The heads responded not, unmoving. "Am I destined for madness then? Or just blind insanity? A human being with 5,000 pairs of eyes can''t even dream about a better fate... Then tell me what exactly?"


    The corpses floated back to the surface of the glassy water, their empty eye sockets gazing up at him, unable to bear a look on their faces. He chuckled. "Now isn''t that ironic... having your vision stolen, yet it is the one thing that keeps you sane." That, he couldn''t believe. He leaned over the water, gently bringing the abominable creature into the pond. "Happiness comes as a cold and lonely stranger... why can''t this happen in a nicer way?"


    The glassy pond broke under his feet. Everything was floating up around him as he landed on his hands and knees, turning to face his creation in the air, before the tiny pieces of his memory shattered completely into his view.


    Now his world was made of thousands of his own reflection, now his world was full of his own self...


    ''It would be very fitting if I became the glass... After all, it is my eyes which do not function.'' Unusually calm, he held on to his child, who floated effortlessly in midair. Slowly, the reflection of the baby returned as he started to touch his head. "I''ll never have those eyes that you''ve all seen." And then he laughed again, but the laugh was now manic and cold. It was self-pitying. Self-absorbing. Self-reflecting. Self-actuated, self-determined, self-righteous.


    "The very thought, to know you all have them. And know what''s left in me." His heart started pumping, and he started panting, clutching tightly. Then a needle appeared into his hand, sharp and cruel, a little poison. His eyes turned a deep green, he licked it slowly and his tongue began to burn slightly. "If you cannot look down upon me and pity me, what reason do I have to stay, what reason do I have?" His hand became numb as he gripped his hand over his chest. ''... a failure, I will die. Or I won''t and will remain to suffer more and more.''


    The thoughts raced through his brain. His whole head was aching. "I wonder what will happen."


    He closed his eyes, and lay his back upon the water, letting the chill of his memory flow through him. ''How pleasant would that be? Perhaps it would even give a false sense of warmth. That''s what I want right now...'' Remembering his first time meeting with the boy who turned out to be his best friend, they both laughed as the blue liquid spread all over their skin and hair, leaving a blue trail everywhere they go... "I would give anything, my own life..." They grew up together, it became a yearly tradition of theirs, spreading through family, then town. And in the next, the festival turned into something, an event where even the grown ups participate. It spread, and the waters eventually drowned the entire landscape, the whole world drowning...


    The boy was now a man, his father had him bound, with his back straight. "Father, I''m not a sinner. I''m no hypocrite either. Why am I to suffer and you aren''t?" His father responded by swinging the rope over his neck, while his friends watched silently. But despite the torture, he could not hate his father, for he had been trying to stop him from making a mistake. To make the world a better place for the youth of the future, even though it caused the death of one of the sons he''d given to the world, and it caused much hurt to him.


    His best friend amongst the crowd, stood there in confusion, not sure how to respond, holding back a flood of tears and blood.


    And his father had ordered one more punishment, the one they called ''subjected to the most grueling, intense, agonizing punishment known to mankind, it''s worse than hell, where nothing but torture can compare, so do not cry child, because the only reason he''s here today is because we love him, that''s why''.


    To be buried alive.


    While his best friend, covered the space for the tomb they had created for him, while the villagers placed heavy rocks to seal the door. It was supposed to be done in the darkest part of the forest, so he would have no chance of seeing a glimpse of life, not the sun and moon. No more freedom to move in any way possible, except for death, and it would come for him in never. For he was known as a foolish immortal.


    Sometime after being buried, after having lost track of how many days or how many nights had passed, a rustling had happened within the dirt and soil surrounding him, the feeling that he felt then was that something had brushed past his nose, something sharp and wet, probably a cockroach. How would a cockroach survive when he hasn''t? He felt a lot better then. If anything, they could just pick him up, throw him into a dark room with bugs. Bugs can be friendly, friendly in the sense that he didn''t have to worry about not having anybody.


    A disturbance was caused again. Another slight movement, but this time from his ear, a slight brushing and a cold feeling...


    Buzz.


    ''So that was what it was.'' But it wouldn''t stop. Bugs were crawling up on his cheek, maybe the insect is just confused, doesn''t realize that it wasn''t going the right way, it might have been dying.


    He brushed it away.


    Suddenly, he heard a hiss. It was another bug, a bug the size of a scorpion, which was bigger than most roaches, but this was definitely not a roach and was extremely loud. He had wondered where the cockroach has been hiding. As he did, he accidentally flicked it, he was not able to contain himself anymore, but then, he noticed something peculiar, something familiar; the colour of the scorpion was not black or brown or light tan but the shade of blue.


    ....Bu....zz...


    The tomb was filled with the buzzing sound of insects, the air was filled with the constant noise and the sounds of bugs crawling along his neck, moving in circles, or staying motionless. They weren''t biting or stinging, just moving, brushing over his body, coming back up and down in random. Just the sight of bugs alone could have driven him nuts, and what was the sight of bugs crawling along the walls, ceilings, and floor of this little chamber made him feel like he was losing his mind, that they were everywhere, like an infestation had hit the inside of the stone house, eating away the rock. He could do nothing but listen as they crawled and hummed, sending a series of chills and tremors throughout his body.


    Eventually, his body was being eaten alive. That feeling when everything in your stomach wants to rise up, when every cell of your brain seems to cry out in pain, when every breath tastes as a sandstorm would blow the air away, when you get a feeling as though your whole being had been captured and dragged into a slow agonizing hell of fire and screams. But his body would return to its original state, as if nothing had happened. The bugs ate, and so they grew. He couldn''t move, for he had no energy, the sensation of something soft and slimy had crept onto the fingers, spreading as far as his wrists, it started biting the surface of the skin and some entered the nail beds and ate their way through the nails. They began eating away at his hands and fingers, sucking every last drop of juice.


    He watched as a beetle burrowed its way out and then consumed the rest of his finger, his blood streamed freely from his right ring finger and down onto the ground. He felt them entering his mouth, nose and eyes, entering his stomach and intestines and colon, and all the while they were eating away, he remained perfectly still.


    The process would repeat itself endlessly, sometimes several times a day. Once they had completely devoured his hand, they began devouring his arm, eating him away slowly. But then his arms and hands would return. His feet and legs would come back after, followed by his torso. And sometimes he would even come back completely healed, regenerated to perfect health. Even so, he would grow more and more desperate, struggling to free himself, fighting desperately against an endless cycle of torment.


    Time. Time. Time.


    ...Time?


    No, not yet.


    His sense of time was different, in his mind he was tortured forever, unable to think of a way out or help himself, unable to fight off the pain, unable to think, unable to dream or hope.


    What was I? Was I not a fool and a coward to even think for a moment that my fate should differ.


    Why does my heart beat still? Why must I take another breath of air? Why did my vision not fail when I should''ve blinded in pain?


    WHY!


    Everything went silent. His soul cried out. A voice spoke within his heart.


    ''For you have lived this fate, thus you cannot escape the confinements that were bestowed upon you. The only path left is a new one, one you shall take by yourself and shape for yourself.'' A feminine voice that sounded soft and sweet, almost gentle yet oddly soothing to hear.


    He felt no reason to respond, but he did so regardless, hoping to gather some sort of hope for his freedom from whoever is offering the salvation.


    ''Save yourself. End your pain. Stop the madness.'' A wave of hope washed over him. A tear rolling down his cheek. A warm, fuzzy, tender, feeling blossoming from the depths of his soul. As if the bugs were never there, he grabbed a hold of his mind and let go, drifting slowly away.


    And at last, a book appeared in his hand. It whispered, ''Phantos. That is the name you gave us.'' It''s leather had black stains all around its cover, its pages brown and white, the only reason he had recognized the contents as the words of his life, was due to the cover page, showing the front of him. ''The book of soul''


    ''Beware. We''ll be with you.''


    An indescribable amount of energy had flowed through the man''s body and soul, the source from his chest where his heart sat.


    For all the bottled up emotion the man had been subjected to, it felt strange having it released all at once, in his state of insanity, this moment seemed too great. The mere sight and existence of an old, rotten book. Unable to hold himself, unable to control it all. Unable to choose what to do, a decision. He didn''t need to cry or scream, and suddenly he couldn''t bear to close his eyes. In that very moment, he saw it all.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Once buried alive, a foolish immortal decided to carve a story on his book, perhaps in hope to reach people like him, or just a passing joke to lift his mood.


    The foolish immortal who got drunk off a single drop of his own blood in the winter, and didn''t eat for two weeks, his hunger so great it''s the kind of hunger that''d make a man cry, no one cared when he left. No one asked about his whereabouts. Yet, not for an instant had the foolish immortal let his heart falter, not in the slightest.


    ''A 10,000 eyed, 7,000 toothed, 4,000 tongued creature, born from the broken remains of your father''s deeds. From your own shattered dreams.''


    Taken over by a crazed insanity, the man used his powers to shatter his skull open and dug out all his eyes, each of them numbering exactly a thousand, and chewed each of his teeth out, one after one, and gnawed all his tongue till the taste of blood. When the ordeal is done, he shall wash his body and begin this tale.


    A tale of his that had no end. For eternity he writes, a fool no longer. With the remnants of his eyes.

 Dead People Talking

    Within the house, a clacking and clattering was going on in the distance, just as they were about to close the windows, they stopped dead in their tracks at the strange sound.


    "Did you guys hear that?" A boy in a group of three asked.


    One girl shrugged. "What, you''ve already gone insane?"


    "We haven''t even seen the real terror yet." Another responded.


    The sound seemed like a massive snake hissing and screeching, the sound echoed and the group of three kids quickly huddled up, shivering in their own sweat.


    "Yeah I don''t know about this place."


    "Me neither, you really shouldn''t be here with a dead person!"


    "Why... did we come here again...? Whose idea was this?" One asked, her teeth shivering, and her skin covered in goosebumps.


    "Do we run...?" The same guy replied, as a sly grin formed on his face. "Or maybe he does live in this creepy old pyramid..."


    Even with so much energy in his body, the trembling simply wouldn''t stop.


    ''Haaaaaah...'' Phantos breathed a heavy sigh. Just thinking of the hell it has put itself through makes it seem so worth it. And yet... the results? What more? To be known as a persons book, for a man whose bones have been broken countless times and beaten into mush a thousand times.


    Even under the freezing, chilly air, he remained naked, his whole body pale, with hints of yellow and green all around. His bare figure decaying into skin and bones. Though it wasn''t his fault. After years of doing so, his clothes became stinky, and he started smelling worse than what would have been considered ''healthy''. As well, there was no one in sight, not a soul in town to even give him a simple pair of clothing.


    He took his first step forward, the cold breeze bringing a welcoming sensation, to feel alive. And soon, he could make his way back home and become a ruler! It made him feel rather stupid, looking back.


    "AAAAAAAHHH!!!" All that ensued next, was the sudden realization that the building they were in was truly as the townsfolk claimed to be true, that it was actually a mansion belonging to a dead man. All three turned and sprinted out in full force, not daring to turn their heads for even a second.


    But how does Phantos know all of this? It had put the illusion up itself. Athazagoraphobia, the fear of being forgotten. Perhaps not in a literal sense, but more in the form of how much or how little the public remember him for. Not only did he create such an image of himself, he also faked the appearance and attitude of his ''old self'', as he had once referred it to himself.


    This own place, revolving around the tomb where he had been once buried alive, now a myth which became a reality to be feared amongst the people who thought him as a mere legend or folklore. His return had been broadcasted across the entirety of the small village. Unbeknownst to him, it seems that his book had also recorded every single word, action and emotion felt through the eyes and ears of every self of his who had spoken the name ''Phantos'' that day.


    After creating a path out of dirt and a thin layer of rocks, a single door was there. Then, the stone tiles were split apart, and the path cleared out, with only his little room revealed, that too, was connected to the entrance through a few other tiles.


    He hungered, but he knew he could not eat. He wanted, yet he couldn''t obtain. Though he desired, it would forever remain so.


    To pass time, he read books. There were many people who had been inside his building, some to pay a visit, while the others were those who were supposed to keep an eye on his body which had never been found.


    ''These townsfolk aren''t so smart, now, are they?'' He thought. Why wouldn''t they simply search around, rather than search the inside of his stomach and lower organs for his remains. His skeletal remains would have still remained the same way as if he were still alive. If one were to touch the body, one would clearly have felt his temperature, but one might not feel him breathing, for all his creation was him. He felt the pain of every step on it, the smell of every dirty act, the wind of every cold breeze, everything he heard, everything. And now he can see, with all his eyes, the beings, who were neither Angels nor Demons, who had stepped on the bones, and the way they handled it.


    Yet, they continued to play the part of Demon. And it was at that point, Phantos had an epiphany of a great gift, something it has had yet to gain: Knowledge. All its imagination was limited to the manchild''s story, and his child whom bore 10,000 eyes, 7,000 teeth and 4,000 tongues. But it gained more, his ideals and beliefs; to which he sought as the perfect being, the most divine entity of his creation, and most of all, his child''s creator and god of its existence.


    His father, once had come to mansion. He spoke words that none other have said, as if speaking to the man himself.


    He recalled.


    "Vetro, O, sinner of mine. This was no more than the sins you had caused, it was fate. Now, no more shall it bring you any pain. From this, I ask you, to carry the pain within. Let not these people who have abandoned you live without their rightful consequences. If I, as your father have not been there, have not shown you the way. Then this, my son, is the life you deserve." He placed the plate down on the coffin. It was food and a drink, it''s fragrance had spread throughout the entirety of the dark hallway. He felt it throughout the entirety of the mansion. "I offer you respite, for I ask for a measly sacrifice. A child, a child who is a Demon in its own eyes. I believe that is enough, no? You shall be safe. Your days will pass, and as will those of the cursed. You shall bring revenge to their houses, their kin. And upon their dying moments, they will have known who it was that ended their lineage." He kneeled down beside him, though he did not see nor sense his presence. "Though it pains me to see my child like this. I cannot allow myself to mourn in sorrow. For I shall one day meet death in its own. For the sins of this life shall follow. I do not ask for forgiveness, but simply understanding." Vetro would not have ever imagined a time when his own father would come, nor would he have ever seen it coming. His soul, has no longer moved within his bones.


    ''Interesting... it was this day, wasn''t it? A year ago. I was alive. Yet, here we are.''


    How will he break it out? How will he break it all out. It seemed far fetched. Yet, deep within his soul. A burning fire burned brightly. He knew at times he would falter, but he''d pick himself back up. It was time for him to abandon this palace, to see beyond the realm he had set himself to believe, and all the possibilities ahead.


    Though his entire being was taken away in an instance. It felt like the air in his lungs would burn if not released, he felt like a hungry wild animal, though it wasn''t that much of a problem anymore, as the empty pit he held within his stomach, seemed to have ceased being there.


    ''Now, you have recalled. I command that you awaken.'' Phantos, the feminine voice said.


    It stirred the will within his heart, bringing with it the feelings he had bottled up all these years, as if his entire soul was finally freed. ''Who... are you?''


    It responded, as if it had seen something quite incredible, ''I see. You have achieved the goal, though you do not wish to kill.'' The voice stopped for a second, its next words meant nothing more than simply reminding the now decrepit Vetro of what he was told, ''You, foolish immortal, wish not to live, but wish instead to die. It has been a while since someone has met such an end, having accomplished their goals, I wonder. Perhaps now, after such time you''ve waited, have you ever imagined this could come to pass?''


    ''I do not know...'' But he knew. The time had already passed. The months he has waited, a year already, and here he was. He had waited his wait, and even after realizing it had all been pointless, his purpose in his existence would forever remain a question unanswered. ''It has been... such a long time since a voice such as yours has spoken within my mind.''


    The voice appeared to laugh lightly. ''I missed the way you talk to yourself. And the things you have to say, I never seem to tire. You, my Lord, understand much and know little. Only those such as you, in the simplest of words, have what you see as great.'' They both laughed together in the glassy water as he would not drown. His child was in his arms, still alive.


    ''I see, so I had... that...''


    ''Indeed you have, my Lord.''


    It felt different from when it talked the first time. The voice sounded younger and more... refined. In its tone. The femininity was almost noticeable. Their relationship now seemed much closer. They understood one another, like two good friends.


    ''Now, time to get up, don''t you think?'' Phantos switched to a more colorful tone, to make its response more emotional than usual. ''I am very sorry, I''d love to stay, but, no. No. We just cannot have that happening today, of all days.''


    And Vetro opened his eyes, staring directly at a gigantic gaping hole in the sky above, swimming as he and his child began to fade back to reality. No longer stuck in his mind, his memory. The poison which had once killed him, had died out. With not a single drop of his life blood to be seen.


    .....


    ''Ah yes, I''m back. This feels odd...''


    Reality. A wooden cottage, a cozy fireplace, and a comfortable bed. One where you can see and feel every inch of it, and its insides. Its springs, its fillings, the texture, everything, down to the fibers that weave it together to hold everything in.


    Pain. He could feel everything on it, his nerves were coming back to life. Every little crevice that comes with a body and being. And the pain, it was horrid. ''Oh gods! I had almost forgotten this part.'' He hissed to the imaginary voices above and groaned a little. His face was back to normal, as if he was never kneed or hit in the first place.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "What the fuck are you?" Zabulus questioned as it let go of his foot with its heel and bent down a little, a puzzled look on its face.


    "Yeah, the hell are you?" Vetro echoed, letting himself slump down, not giving any effort to fight the fatigue. "Like, seriously, how does the brain even function like this, my soul, no. Like. It feels so weird." He replied.


    Zabulus'' expression slowly shifted, he held his head. His face tightened, the eyes locked onto his. And a scowl was shown. A migraine of a caliber not worth mentioning came upon the nameless demon, as Vetro stood up slowly, grinning in pain as he felt every bone in his face restructure itself back in place. And with his fists ready, he held the old rusty lamp that had long lost it''s color, and whammed it into Zabulus, hearing the crunch, its ribs caving in, his chest practically collapsing as it let out a sigh.


    Zabulus let out a soft yelp before coughing out blood, looking down and feeling something go loose. And not a second later, the ground before him became tinted red, the smell of iron lingered within the air. "Now how''s that for making me relive those... moments, huh? You fucking rat!"


    Before long, his insides seemed to have bulged outwards in a conical shape. A piece of shrapnel tore apart the center of his spine, the nerves dismembered. his whole abdomen began to rot and the rot was spreading to the surrounding muscles and organs, decomposing everything it had touched, his ''eyes'' starting to shrivel and his sinus and nasal cavities began to break open. The skin was already peeling off by this point.


    The dangling mass of flesh was nothing more than the mutilated, pulpy mess, as if something had exploded inside him, the chunks of meat dripping with bodily fluid.


    Alice let out a sound akin to vomit. And all her senses were heightened, she felt sick and disgusted. And it didn''t help that Vetro had practically killed Zabulus. She was weak, she was useless. She was... a disgrace...


    As he hacked his lifeblood into his hands, spitting it out, "No..." He saw his bones begin to rip open, with his heart not having any actual pulses, he felt it grow dimmer and dimmer. And finally, his heart had exploded, the blood it contained bursted, its pulpy remains lay scattered across his chest cavity, now gaping. The area on his pelvis seemed to have been dug into, the groin completely shredded open and decaying.


    Phantos laughed at the sight of Zabulus, Vetro took a glance at Alice''s direction, and an eerie silence fell over them.


    ''Lord, how are you feeling? Alright?'' Phantos thought, as she mentally began walking towards him.


    ''Feeling at my best. Yep!'' Vetro replied. ''Let''s get ourselves cleaned up, we should have enough time to relax a little bit.''


    ''Alright.''


    Now, as one would put it, going through a series of unfortunate events. Having a conversation with themselves, seemingly alone. Then their words starting to reflect in real time, such a person could not have gone to heaven.


    Zabulus, gore still dripping out from the open gash on its body, continued on despite his mangled chest, neck and face.


    Alice sat to the side, completely forgetting all that has transpired, as she watched a scene straight out of her worst nightmares.


    She has done worse than this, she has seen far greater horrors, and she had done her fair share. In her many years, this was not an issue in her book. But the simple act of disfiguration and sheer brutality in which the perpetrator had performed, was too much to bear, even for a beast such as herself, knowing the victim was a man who she cared for. And Vetro, his words echoed in her mind.


    "Bah. Demons don''t cry, no no, dear Alice. Demons only cry when it''s most convenient for them."


    His words felt bitter, yet cold. And the warmth his words had conveyed the night prior, no, not even a trace. He was not human, not to anyone, but his words, they were to him more precious than his life. He could see the truth. The eyes, the fear that surges through the body. Not a demon.


    ''Mother was always the same. She was nothing more than a spiteful and selfish beast.'' Zabulus'' thoughts ran. ''Such a thing, I will do anything to rid her, from our family... but...'' He raised his palm to the left side of his jaw, ''In due time, I will seek my revenge.'' And his last breath was but a gasp, but, soon, he too, fell over. And the skin all throughout his body began to turn black, his flesh began to fester, then slowly, the body shriveled up until he was nothing but a little sack of bone dust and some blood.


    It''s over. Vetro stepped over and kicked the corpse of Zabulus one last time before leaning towards Alice. "Get up, we''re not done here."


    ''My lord... a moment, if you do not mind.''


    "What?" Vetro muttered quietly, watching his hand pulse faintly against the book that spoke its mind, a chilly blue glow had embraced the room. He found himself standing a little farther away from the carnage, the flickering of the lights from above had then ceased its motion. Everything had seemed to slow.


    ''I... I believe that the girl... she should not be a burden.''


    "Ah, this..." Vetro slowly walked and sat down near alice, patting the poor thing''s back as it appeared to have gone to a daze of sorts. It''s eyes wide open, its tears flowing, frozen in time.


    He looked back over his shoulder, examining the space surrounding him. "She doesn''t deserve all this. This world, this madness, none of this, it was only meant to bring joy and entertainment, and pleasure, this and that."


    "Yet, the look on her face," He turned back and gently lifted up her head, wiping her tears away with his thumb, "She has no will to live."


    ''Indeed.''


    "None whatsoever."


    ''Quite. Yes. My sentiments exactly. My lord, do forgive the intrusion.''


    "Phantos, can you see me? When you have your eye on me?" Vetro wondered.


    ''Of course, I have eyes all over.''


    "Even right now? Where are your eyes right now?" He let go of Alice.


    ''You cannot comprehend this knowledge, my lord. But I shall show you this one.''


    A single pair of glowing purple eyes surrounded by a fleshy veil floated above Vetro.


    ''This one was my first.''


    It disappeared within his sight.


    ''She speaks no words and has no will of her own. This was bound to happen the moment she was freed. There was no longer a need for the man''s presence regardless, but I believe that she should continue living on.''


    Vetro suddenly stopped and pondered about something, his expression softening before shifting to that of anger. "So, we have all these great powers."


    ''Indeed. Quite incredible as well, given that all it takes to harness is but the power of the will and the ability to understand the ways of the soul, not magic. Just knowledge, my lord. For in itself, the way it works and functions, all are connected by a common root.''


    "Yeah yeah, that." Vetro replied, looking over the cold and solemn state of Alice''s body, as her hair started to waver and the wind began to howl.


    "How come there''s no clich¨¦ hero-and-damsel shit?" He asked.


    ''We do not have any need for any clich¨¦''s to happen here, the entire scene was supposed to be a solemn moment between Zabulus and you. But I guess, I overstepped my boundaries and so. The battle ended before it started, leaving an ill taste in my mouth. An excuse if anything. I needed to send in a representative so I made do.''


    "Hm. So, what now? I killed the destroyer of my creation, I gained another useless set of powers and knowledge." Vetro noted. "Are you sure the people won''t kill me? Aren''t they gonna try and kill me for breaking their image or whatever it is they have?"


    ''No... for he was an interloper. An intruder.''


    "But aren''t we-"


    ''For now, and it will be a long time before they truly come and realize. So please, act the part of Angel.''


    "That''s what I was thinking!"


    ''Anyhow, it matters not. To that, the man before you should have realized that a very long time has passed. Surely his mortal friends would have come to question his presence.''


    The chit-chat between the two continued for some time.


    Vetro tapped his chin, scratching his beard. "Right, right. And Alice here, why not I just... fix her... memories?"


    ''Whatever for? She did this out of her own free will. Should she so choose to forget the deeds and woes of the past, so be it, let it be.''


    "Okay then," He smiled and raised his hand to wipe his eye, looking at it, there was no blood, but the scar, the mark he had left in his fathers memory. "She really did try hard. She was so set on leaving, and now she can''t even."


    ''There are consequences to every action, Lord, there will always be.''


    "Well I could just take her in, have her travel, see the world, make friends..."


    ''Why do you exactly intend to do all this? Lord, a good deed deserves another good deed. Not because of pity, never out of pity.''


    "Just... just trying to do my own good to someone that needs help." He pouted, furrowing his brows a little and cocking his head away, he waited to see if his companion had more to add to his case, though she said nothing more, not a single reply, nor retort or otherwise.


    "Ah..." A feeling overtook his soul. Not his body, not his physical state, it wasn''t all too clear what it was. It felt good, yet... like he was being berated. His body however was quivering slightly. He stood up straight and spoke softly, "What... is this?" His vision, all colors, had begun to mix and blur. His 5 senses, all but his sight, were thrown into a spiral. A void like existence that surrounded him, encasing everything and all at once, taking on a similar nature to that of reality.


    ''My lord?! Are you still there?! Answer, Lord. Please!''


    Vetro began to walk around, looking and checking. He felt so light, so happy, his body felt so alive, more than before. "Hehe... oh, Gods, Phantos. Oh God... no wonder this guy had my body mutilated like this. It''s so much better...!"


    ''Lord! STOP. You will have to start from the beginning and undo the damages to your soul. I can see the contours of it... it...?'' Confused, Phantos watched and slowly began to doubt her eyes. ''My Lord, what is the meaning of this? Explain yourself.''


    "Relax," Vetro replied, laughing all the while. "Just let it sink in, just, let everything in! Isn''t life... isn''t this body, so great?"


    ''What?''


    He sighed, smiling to himself.


    And before the very next blink, Vetro was gone. Leaving a now empty void, a dark void, without light and hope. Rather; his existence was pushed back to the edge of his psyche. A being from this reality has no business controlling this realm. Or as one might say: the folly of a mortal soul. A blight upon his memories.


    In that moment of insanity, a whisper crept from the dark. An entity older than any, with a smile as a familiar. He held out his hand. A shimmer darker than the dark, and deeper than any abyss. One born in a land where no mortal soul belongs.


    And before the being could speak another word, he was in nowhere, with two other damned souls.


    "I forgot just how great this felt! It had been... what, ten... two thousand years? Time doesn''t flow here after all, so you''ll know." ''Vetro'' chuckled lightly.


    ''Don''t mess with my lord. Don''t use my books. You, nor me, have the knowledge required to interfere with my existence and to command its presence in a physical plane without a suitable vessel. Zabulus, you devil of a beast. What have you done?!'' The voice snarled, coming from the left, a cold breeze embraced the surroundings.


    ''Thinly veiled. Begone you. Thou art, shall be no more.'' The right hissed.


    "Lookie here now, this book. How funny! What are you, a book of jokes? I am sure that this book is probably yours, am I not wrong?"


    ''Enough. Leave. NOW. Before you commit further atrocities and have thy sins added to your names, sinner, and filth.'' As if Phantos was split in two, both the voices spoke.


    It''s more like the spirit of a book was split into two, their essences all having been thrown off kilter. One, stronger than the other. One, younger than the other, one... simply being taken advantage by its new master, Zabulus.


    His hands seemed to tremble as he tried to maintain control, but didn''t manage to retain his sanity. It was now starting to chip and crack, it was his time.


    Zabulus had taken over the body of Vetro.


    His body, now a walking corpse, in his palms lay an empty book. In his mind, a single thought. His heart, no longer beating, still warm with life, his words spoken not. And yet, his voice spoke of nothing. His soul, made of four separate souls, as twisted, each in its own way. Metamorphosing into what was once Zabulus'' body, Vetro''s cadaver took form. His new shell, a dark matter and void-like mass of blackened matter and bones.


    He looked towards Alice, who watched in anagapesis as her friend; who she knew for so little, acted as a demon possessed, in such a terrible way. He placed his hand on her shoulder as he kneeled, but his touch was not gentle. Controlling and forceful, Alice felt a sharp pain. As the roots grew and took hold over her mind and body, she found herself at the mercy of an incomprehensible and deplorable being. She knew his true intentions, and yet she could not even budge.


    Yet, a part of him felt as though this was wrong, and stopped. He stood up without a word and started walking away.


    Now where Laz was, he commanded the husk of man to follow him, with no memory left to speak of, Laz, was now just another of the mindless shambling masses.

 Inland Empire

    Within his dreams. He sees a field, a flat surface of golden grass. And a feeling as if he had been lying in that grass field for eternity. From where he was, the sun''s light had begun to fade and the sky took a reddish tint.


    There, just ahead of him, was the face of his mother who always held that ever loving smile, her skin as pale as the moon, and her face so familiar, yet so forlorn.


    It felt nice seeing her like this. If only it could stay this way. He spoke no words, instead choosing to observe, taking it all in with his eyes alone. Her long silver hair cascading down, down, like a waterfall, or a wave.


    She spoke very few words, as she always did. But all her words held a weight. It wasn''t like any normal conversation one had between strangers. It was a story being told to him as a child, or a fantasy tale about princes and fairies. She said, "My son, why are you sad?" Her lips curved in such a way, her smile, was not that of a stranger, it was that of a friend or family, though, it seemed distant, far off.


    He remained silent.


    "Tell me, son, what has brought you down? How do you feel, so lost and unsure?" And then he smiled.


    Her face, glowing in the darkness, looking at him as he drifted into the abyss.


    "Is it I, you ask yourself?" she asked him, "You, do you love me enough?"


    It seemed to go by so quickly.


    As did the years of his childhood pass by.


    Until one day, everything came to an end, and she disappeared.


    "Or is it that you, that I do not love enough?"


    Though it didn''t appear so, that day had left a lasting impression upon him. One he never felt in all his life. He spoke not the words that he loved. Only the sorrow and grief that remained afterwards.


    "So many things," he muttered, "Too many to even begin."


    Her tears rolling down her cheeks, falling upon his heart. "Then we should begin. That way. There''s no need to continue this madness, there''s no need to hate the world around you, I''m here now, son."


    Her smile returning to its natural beauty, like she used to have. She came towards him, and sat down, right before him. A feeling of sorrow and guilt flooded through his veins. This wasn''t the same as before, his pain and hatred vanished. Maybe, everything has been okay, or maybe it wasn''t so bad, all that happened and didn''t happen in the end.


    He heard her, his heart beating strongly against his chest, and his fists clenching at the mere mention of her voice. What is it to love your family? Is it the bond one shares with another, or is it simply a feeling one may express without a second thought? He had never understood why she would do such a thing. And no matter how hard he had tried to find a reason, he could not.


    Too far misplaced from human contact, this, the distance, and everything else.


    "Mother." He raised his hand and wiped her tears off her face, as his cheeks wet with his own. Her hands, warm, caressing his hand softly, they felt more human, warmer.


    "Why, mother?" He fell to his knees.


    "Why what?"


    "Why did I kill her?"


    "I don''t know. What was her name?"


    "His daughter... she... she was-"


    "My son, why would I think you killed her? Don''t tell me, that this is something that happened a very long time ago?" She lowered her head.


    The wind seemed to pick up its pace. His mother embraced him in her arms. Her arms are his cocoon. Her arms enveloping him like a pair of wings. The warmth. So warm and soft. A comforting embrace.


    And now he knows. There''s a point where pain ends. It comes sooner or later. Wrapping his arms around her, he felt all his regrets fall away, just as easily as a simple dream could take away a single emotion. Just as his fears faded away.


    The scenario was short and yet so long.


    "Why did you leave, mother? Why did you?" He felt his eyes well up in tears. She placed her hand on his cheek, wiping away the tear stains and turning them to the horizon.


    "Because you, dear, have yet to learn." The sadness in her voice. He couldn''t bear it. And before he realized it, the words he wanted to speak, became a distant and long forgotten memory.


    Reality, its a strange thing. With a smile, it always wants to seem friendly and caring, while others just want to laugh and forget. It was always hard trying to decide between right and wrong. But these thoughts and feelings that he has kept locked away were the ones that kept him from speaking a single word of apology. The most powerful things in life always came down to the smallest things.


    To not love your family. To not appreciate your friends. Those are all things we take for granted every time.


    What is there now to say to her when he did the opposite? Nothing really. Nothing could be said or done. Not after what he had done to his life. To the people who had given so much.


    Yet, that time he could not see himself clearly.


    Awakening in an uncomfortable silence. Witnessing a place filled with nothing, there is no world and there are no lights. A void, the darkness itself. Within, lay a dream. In its centre, a great glowing star shone bright against the heavens.


    That much was an exaggeration. It was simply dark and the candles were off. He was in a certain inn in Eskras main town, where Alice had shown him. Laz, on the other hand, he couldn''t really tell what he had been dreaming about. He recalled bits and pieces, a war, a man, and now the memories are completely shattered.


    Well, either way, a dream is but a dream. Not his. Nor a single soul''s. They''re just not real, there isn''t a single thing out there, out in those places, that exists.


    Everything, those who are seen, and those who have never met, are just memories, even his memories and his emotions. His emotions, are still him. They are there, even when he is dead. But now, he is nothing, emotionless, a husk with nothing to its name but a command and a will.


    Alice laid there in bed, next to him, motionless and breathing slow and heavily, her chest moving up and down as the sounds of the busy city could be heard through their window. She was still asleep. What made it worse was having to share a bed, although Zabulus only slept for 2 hours at a time, humans such as Laz and Alice slept for 8 or more.


    He was waiting for her, it''s almost been an hour, maybe. No, definitely.


    ''Laz,'' he asked, ''do you feel tired?''


    "Who''s talking to me?" He asked, panicked and scared.


    ''Laz, please...''


    "Leave me alone! You can''t take anything away from me."


    ''It is quite alright, now, let us talk, shall we?''


    "Huh... yeah, fine..."


    He was as easy as a child.


    The voice, it wasn''t clear where it was coming from, so he was hesitant, but eventually he answered, "Sure..."


    ''How are you feeling?''


    "Ugh," He groaned, turning his head slightly so that he could stare straight at Alice. "I don''t know... I-I don''t know what this place is or... where am I? Where''s my wife!? I''m- She needs me!" But as easy as he was, it was just as hard to explain things to him.


    "Laz, can you hear me?" The voice asked.


    "Where''s my wife!?" He demanded, "She''s always here, with us! That woman, is... is she my wife?"


    Zabulus sighed heavily, ''Just... try to keep calm for a little bit more. But no. That''s a friend of mine.''


    "Are... are you the one in charge of that corpse?" He suddenly asked.


    A strange question, given Zabulus'' recent possession and control. He never knew such a thing was possible. Then again, his possession and control weren''t that high, to begin with. ''...Yes.'' Would this now convince the man? Surely not, Zabulus thought.


    "I see," Laz began. "Tell me, can I go back to where she is? Please. I need my wife."


    ''Who... is your wife?''


    "No, she-you, no! You took her away didn''t you!?" Laz stood up and began to threaten Zabulus.


    ''Do not dare, human, I will remove all traces of your soul in this vessel and I''ll ensure not a trace of your memories and emotions remain.''


    "Why not tell me! Tell me, please!"


    Zabulus simply gave him a face of disinterest, a gaze of indifference. Laz slowly broke down into tears and soon, began to wail and sob loudly, as if he had heard the worst possible news and was crushed by the weight of it. This had been the daily occurrance for the past week as they traveled to the biggest town in Eskra; Airenis.


    He left the sobbing Laz and the sleeping Alice and went down the stairs into the reception desk of the inn, the sound of the patrons enjoying their breakfast was drowned out by the gentle din and clatter coming from the dining hall.


    Before arriving at the entrance, he turned his head to the reception.


    He opened the door and took in the fresh breeze outside, before shutting it.


    The world itself appeared brighter and warmer than what it was an hour ago, even at this hour. It would soon be sunrise.


    The trees swayed gently, and the grass danced to the song the wind brought. The air smelled fresher, cleaner. It seemed surreal to even describe. And the sun rose slowly above the horizon, illuminating the world.


    The streets were filled with laughter and merriment, for they were celebrating. Zabulus couldn''t see this because he had been busy. After all, why would they even celebrate? Even he couldn''t figure it out, seeing as they were the cause for the great tragedy that they let occur as if it was nothing.


    "Hah... ha... haha." He could only laugh. "Ahah, the end of the world. Isn''t it beautiful?" The streets were decorated with flowers of every shade, and red was the one they chose the most.


    Red, a color associated by them with love.


    Why not white or yellow or even blue? Why? For, isn''t this meant to be their final celebration? How ironic. And so, this morning he woke to the sight of a town filled with happy faces and laughter. Red was meant to be the color of blood. So why use it instead? Why are they acting so jovial, as if it was meant for them?


    The crowds went silent as the last notes of the instruments and lutes died away. He followed the flow of the people and ended up outside the city wall. Before long, everyone there stood around the now broken monument. Its base smashed into fragments of rock.


    A crowd of mourners. Their tears dripping from their eyes as they bowed to the ground. It was animalistic behavior, even animals wouldn''t bow down like this in front of their own creator. Their headmaster, their teacher, their father. This was supposed to be a prayer towards God and now here they were praying to something so ungodly and distorted.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    A monument of the void in blue, or so it''s known, a deep and dark color, it''s texture so smooth and strong. Some of them have even taken their life by drowning or cutting their neck. He couldn''t figure it out, their minds had been messed up beyond repair, beyond help.


    He walked towards one of the bowing and mourning people, and sat in front of them and observed for some time, the way their faces would contort into sorrow and pain. It was a disgusting sight, he thought. Extending his hand to their dome, and gently squeezing their cranium, his fingers sinking into their flesh. The muscles tensing up, and a wet splurt echoed through his ears. His nail pierced through their head, and as they screamed in agony, the past became the present.


    A memory of a dying woman, being left by his lover, betting money on a poor girls future, betting lives on his pride, taking him in for food and shelter, living alone in a deserted camp. A living body, Dead? In his heart beat no longer and no longer does he draw breath of his own, but as a command to live.


    ''Soar, oh Angel.''


    And, in a second, he went from a mournful, ugly crying man, to an emotionless being who stood in the center.


    But regardless of his presence, no one else moved and inch. This fact alone is just absurd. The man who fell, would always stand back up, without hesitation. That is the story behind all great men.


    "The land of Eskra... this can serve a purpose to myself. An unfinished dream, I say... aye, aye... unfinished dreams are but a sorrow, filled with great and noble hearts, aren''t they?" Then again, what was it that drew him to this realm, that fateful day where he lost his soul?


    He had yet the answer that eludes him still.


    But for now, his goal was simple. To return to his construct, his castle in the sky. And in the days ahead of him.


    A reason is sure to present itself,


    Or maybe, just maybe, he could continue to dream forever, if he keeps searching and searching.


    Another victim lay, on the floor, though he couldn''t recognize them nor could he figure out why someone would do such a thing, still, that man''s memories were a little unclear, a little jumbled and tangled up, as they were more or less put in the mind of a 6 year old child.


    That said, there was something more pressing and urgent about the whole situation, that he couldn''t help but wonder about, what sort of ritualistic behavior was this? And why do they praise this void so much? There must have been a better place to do this other than outside the city-town walls, his hands trembled with excitement, all he needed was to follow their actions, that''s how these humans operated.


    "Fuck off." The man whom he was looking at said.


    ''Now isn''t that funny...'' Zabulus thought, ''Aren''t you here to pray to a concept, a place? This is clearly a sign and proof that you want your words to be heard... by who... no, by what? Your god, perhaps? What god is this, my good man. Is he strong, is he fair?'' His thoughts reached the man as he mouthed the words silently.


    "Please... my prayers are nothing. Please, let them hear me."


    A grin slowly appeared on the man''s face, then with his hands clenched into fists, he pressed them tightly together and brought his elbows to his stomach.


    "There is a reason and a purpose, let this message be known!"


    At that moment, he saw the world lighten in the morning sky, and for a second he could swear he saw something watching, or were those his eyes playing tricks.


    "O Scribes of Eskra! Grant me audience!"


    Then he could feel the vibrations of the ground, the vibrations of an intense force, as if he were underwater, holding his breath, afraid and excited. But why was the air thickening around him, why, indeed, was the energy coming from his veins?


    "Look... you idiot..."


    "You''re... one to... talk..." The man said weakly.


    And a bright ray of sunlight shone over him, bathing everything around him in its brilliant light, and Zabulus felt an intense power rush through him as he stood atop the roof of a large building.


    And after some time, what had happened just registered, he felt himself getting a bit dizzy and started swaying. The wind was strong here, stronger than before. Stronger, perhaps, than any storm or gale could achieve.


    The man was behind him, holding his arms out with his palms facing each other, breathing heavily. His whole body was trembling.


    "It seems... the gods... did hear me," he panted between breaths, "huh?"


    "What?" Zabulus turned around, confused. "You''re a fool." He said with a weak tone of voice, a faint hint of amusement in it, "They won''t save anyone."


    "Don''t insult my gods... they''ve granted me this gift, the power to distort the land and its sky. The strength, to make them suffer and beg." His voice, once monotone and without inflection, suddenly went low and menacing.


    "Oh? You''re a fun one, I guess." Zabulus mused.


    He wanted more of him, the sounds of his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he spoke those words, all the signs pointed towards a strong man, he believed.


    "Fun? Heh, funny, real funny... but tell me, where will you start? Which city will you destroy first? Ha-ha-ha! Don''t tell me, are you just going to attack everyone right now?"


    Zabulus rolled his eyes.


    He''s always known that humans had always been obsessed with a great many things and often placed themselves at the centre of such obsessions, and many times over, it would make others and their ideas a thing of envy.


    "Hmm? Oh, right. No." Zabulus took his steps, walking away from the man.


    The city grew and expanded rapidly, houses, buildings, shops, taverns, they''re all there.


    The sight before him is amazing, all this, built within less than 2 weeks.


    The man''s expression grew infuriated, "Ah! The Great Plan will become the final straw!"


    The air grew thick and tense with some sort of energy.


    "Why are you attacking? Is it your ego that will lead to your doom, human?" Zabulus asked calmly, feeling no real emotion whatsoever.


    His mind began to wander. Would that human ever get to the end of his dream, and could his god ever help him complete the Great Plan? Probably not, gods are cruel and useless, after all.


    "You... your kind, born as Demons, yet you play the part of human? I''ve seen what you did to that man. That demon magic... whatever the fuck it is, that thing called ''Phantom,'' that guy who wields the dark blade. You killed him, huh... and those screams..."


    "Yeeaahhh," Zabulus chuckled softly, "I don''t know who you''re on about, so, leave me alone, would you?" Though Zabulus didn''t intend to leave a man like this alone, he simply attempted to de-escalate the situation.


    The wind slowed and the air cleared, leaving the scene eerily silent.


    Zabulus, whose hands rested at his sides, clenched and relaxed his fists, his fingers twitching slightly.


    "Those four hands of yours... just how much blood does a creature like you have in them, demon? I know for certain that you killed him... all the times you''ve betrayed, murdered and stolen, there was a lot. You will all pay, oh yes. Yes you will."


    As if an invisible force pushed him backwards, Zabulus, staggering, was sent flying through the roof, sliding across the tiles until his back was pressed against the chimney. He raised his head from between his knees and rubbed his throat gently with the back of his hand, which stung painfully.


    The chimney was cracked slightly in the collision, but besides a little dust and a slight mark, his throat had barely moved.


    He slowly approached, walking at a pace he found fitting.


    "Your god. Is he really so great that it would grant you immortality? Would he give you such a thing?" Zabulus inquired, smiling mischievously, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.


    He noticed the man''s hesitation, as he was lost for words, he chuckled quietly, enjoying it.


    "No... no, he would not. Mortality is a humans greatest weakness... and his strength, but I wouldn''t know, it''s what the rumors say..." He lowered his head.


    The air around the two became warmer and stifled. It was too hot to move anymore, yet not hot enough to sweat.


    "Yeah. So, when''s your friend going to wake up?"


    Zabulus knew Laz was here, of course he did. His power, he''d only borrowed a fraction of Laz''s presence for a little, since there was only a slight trace of life inside of him, nothing worth using too much though.


    Before the man could attack once again, Zabulus asked Laz, "Has she woken up?"


    Laz responded in a voice akin to a whisper, "Yes, a few minutes ago... She, she... was crying when she did..."


    "How pathetic, no?"


    "No."


    "Good. Because your entire kind, every last human being, is nothing more than an infantile imitation of a lifeform. Just waiting for the next god or demon to come along, and take your place. Your precious Creator gave you so little to go with, so why not start creating yourself? How pointless you must be, isn''t it?"


    "ENOUGH!" The man who was listening in, couldn''t take it anymore.


    "Serves you right, gods bitch-boy." Zabulus snarked.


    The air around them seemed to have thickened in anger. The sounds of footsteps approached from beyond the horizon, it was a multitude of people, wearing some sort of heavy armor, swords held out in front.


    "Leave her out of this. Please..." Laz begged, crying softly.


    ''How sickening. Even his pitiful soul cries over someone... disgusting. But... if I can control him with just an order, what other emotions will he give me? Is there anything left to give?''


    "Very well. And in the case, that he decides to interfere, what would I do if my body were destroyed?"


    Laz answered quickly, "You would return to me, I''ll make a home in that void and return to my land, where I was meant to reside with the others."


    "Let it be so, Laz, then it shall not bother me." He spoke in a tone that made him feel like a greater being.


    A moment later, Laz would notice the armed men quickly surrounding the building. They''re wearing metal masks and were heavily armored, all carrying sharp weapons of various types.


    "O-oh..."


    Drip...Drip...Drip...


    In the face of conflict, once again, Laz had urinated himself.

 Sunlight, So Deadly and Pure

    The men continued their charge, all with the intent to kill. Their feet moving in unison, and as the crowd moved faster and faster, Laz had disappeared. Zabulus sent his presence back somewhere safe and invisible to the people of Eskra. The guards that surrounded them also closed their ranks, cutting off their escape routes and boxing him in, ready to attack.


    Zabulus surveyed his surroundings, preparing himself to fight, though he wasn''t much of a fighter, he might as well die here.


    One man stood out among the crowd, his face shrouded and hidden behind a golden helmet that looked almost like a dragon''s, adorned with an inscription in runes around it''s base, and covered with several leather straps and studs. Though there already was a threat right next to Zabulus, he wouldn''t pay any heed to it.


    The masked man smiled as he drew his blade, then pointed it towards him. The sunlight danced against the sharp tip of the dagger. A clear contrast to the way the rest of the blade was colored. He then screamed, "DEMON OF PANDEMONIUM, WHAT DESPERATELY BEFALLS YOU TO INSULT THE DIGNITY OF A HIGH PLANAR MIGHT!?"


    Zabulus'' attention diverted slightly, unsure of what exactly he had heard. ''Demon... of Pandemonium?'' He thought, confused. ''Eh... Not so scary...'' Zabulus thought before asking, "What''s the occasion, fancy-ass-guy?" He paused briefly, noticing the blade that hung beside the masked man, who remained calm, showing not an ounce of malice towards him or any emotion whatsoever, as far as he could see.


    "What have I, innocent mindless idiot, done?"


    With a swiftness unseen by most humans, the dagger moved.


    With a single motion, it cut through the air like a wave, aiming at a point near his heart.


    Reacting a split second earlier, Zabulus used all his strength to push himself off the ground, back-flipping in an awkward manner and landed on the edge of the rooftop. With his body balanced on the small ledge, he spun around to face the masked man, who was watching his movements. The movements were a little unnecessary... but they helped make him look cool.


    The man glanced upwards and said, "I assume you are going to let me down... huh... demon?" He made an upward cut, slashing diagonally across Zabulus'' torso. Blood spattered as his blade reached through his bones and organs.


    "Urgh...!?" As if the blade extended and had a phantom reach, a sharp sensation pierced the empty space within his chest cavity, and was then pierced again.


    The two were then locked in a death grip.


    There were several other armed men running in the street below, though many were injured and some even missing limbs.


    "Hah..." He coughed out a little blood, "So even... your men aren''t safe...! But then why did they do this!?"


    He slashed once again.


    ''Ouch. My body...!'' He thought, gritting his teeth. The pain was there, but it''s as if the injury prior had become a memory rather than the injury that was happening to him.


    The man standing next to Zabulus was smiling, watching his greatest man was currently outmatching this... thing of unknown origin, but when did Laz disappear? Where was he, did Zabulus let him run off on him? But for what reason? Laz wasn''t good for much in this fight to begin with. Maybe it was that...


    ''Oh well.'' The man thought.


    Once again, an invisible force would now crush Zabulus as he falls to the floor, with his head hitting the ground and rolling over several times, scraping the surface. The sounds of laughter filled his ears, all coming from the soldiers, as well as the sounds of the thuds, thunks and clangs as metal pieces collide against the stones.


    The world fell apart into nothingness and for a single moment, his consciousness blanked. There was a surge of a strange and terrible sensation that consumed his entire body and it took everything out of him to attempt to subdue it.


    ''To... subdue...''


    He rose from the pile of concrete and rubble, the same as before. The man, covered in blood, sweat, tears and muck, yet to lose the battle and die.


    It wasn''t long before Laz reappeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, but he wasn''t alone. A girl was with him, and Zabulus recognized her immediately.


    ''That damn girl again...'' He thought, but now was not the time to let personal emotions come into play, that would surely doom him.


    "And who exactly is that? Is that Laz''s wife?" He joked, thought Laz didn''t appreciate the joke and looked down in a state of sadness.


    "Why did you start a fight in town again...!?" Alice said, annoyed at seeing the no-eyed man in front of her, who''s grin stretched a mile across.


    She rushed over and grabbed him, holding his hand as tightly as he could, though he was much more relaxed, as compared to earlier today, when he found the time to think and ponder. It''s strange really, even the feeling of her presence was still unknown.


    Sometimes he hated her, hated how she was there with him, hated that his time in his own thoughts were interrupted constantly. But other times, he couldn''t help but look at her and smile. Those memories, even though it seemed like a fantasy, were so sweet, he felt as though that same affectionate feeling returned.


    If he could, he would go back to the time where they first met, and abandon her. Or perhaps he could bring her closer, closer to him. Even closer and then, everything would be okay. Or maybe it wouldn''t. Maybe everything would stay the same as they are now, maybe this was a chance for him to say, ''Hey! Alice, remember that time I saved you?'' Or something like that, even he didn''t fully understand it, why did she trust him so much, how much longer was this going to last? He just hoped this wouldn''t become a permanent situation in which they could never return, especially not after what happened with Vetro.


    "---ou there? Zab?" Alice said, snapping him back to reality. "Aww, you seem sad... poor guy." She was half-teasing. Different from usual.


    He wasn''t paying attention, but he didn''t mind hearing what she had to say despite his earlier thoughts.


    As a soul within was fighting for her, yet another despised her flesh. A state of dissonance and conflict that was more than simple enough to read on one''s face.


    "Alice!" Laz cried, breaking her away from his grasp. "The guardsmen... they-they''re attacking!!"


    Snapping her fingers, Zabulus wondered what she would do, but... as far as he could see, there was no fireball or anything appearing. "Damnit!" Alice said.


    ''Vastly outnumbered... but...'' He got it. "Hey, Alice, you should go eat."


    Alice quickly whipped her head, a stern expression painted on her face. "Did you just tell me to eat your- nevermind. Did... you just order me to- how dare you... what are you, my dad!?"


    "There''s no time! We''ll discuss lat-" A guard appeared, cutting off Zabulus mid sentence.


    "Haha! You fucking lowlife, thinking a couple of high planars were gonna let you defile our holy land?! Eskra and our goddess will rip the likes of you apart! So stop hiding, and be ready, maggots!" His words cut through the wind like a sword slicing open a gut, filled to the brim with venom and pure loathing.


    "Ouch, ouch ouch. This body really is frail..." He commented on Vetro''s body.


    "Ah... Is that... Gluttony...?!" The guardsman stumbled backwards, terrorized.


    Gluttony. A name used for Alice as the lesser half of an infamous pair, or a name of her known power. A woman said to eat humans as they walked through the woods of Narshes, all in an eternal search for food and to slake their hunger. The whole continent shuddered at the tales of their rampages, but not every single part of Narshes, only part. The only known evidence to their existence was a string of corpses eaten of all their flesh left strewn throughout the wilderness, often it was a merchant or group of people traveling north to sell their wares or transport goods, or as for some others, hunters searching for big game.


    Alice then understood what Zabulus had said, and it was true, she was hungry.


    In the next few moments his body was defiled to nothing but mush, viscera and broken bones. It all happened as soon as he turned his eyes to see, though... if he could turn his eyes at all.


    Alice simply chuckled at his words and approached him and asked, "Didn''t you think of why I would bother with eating that scumbag, huh?"


    "Look, let''s save the banter for after the big fight, okay?" For once, Zabulus was being reasonable.


    She shrugged, "Bleh... I guess."


    But not everyone is willing to listen. "No...!" An unknown voice called from atop a building. It sounded oddly familiar, "Hahaha, are these the beings that dare take up arms against their enemies?"


    But it was simply the man from before who blew Zabulus down here. "Your little groupie is dead... demon friend, what will you do without her guidance? No, no no, no..." He said mockingly, attempting to tick off Zabulus.


    This made Alice laugh, though she was genuinely shocked. "Ha-ha!" Her face contorted into something evil, but the words that came forth were those of someone sane, someone rational, someone wise and more than capable of logic and strategy, and for whatever reason it did. Zabulus had this growing feeling, he was certain of it, a feeling of impending doom. A shadow covering everything, blanketing the ground, a blackness covering his world, the sun itself dimming down its intensity, making the sky darker and darker.


    She stretched her hands out to her sides and lifted her head, "Nothing? What is he doing?" She asked no one in particular, a slight snort in her speech, the words escaping her lips, "Theeeen, mister! I can give you an end, oh so easy..."


    Her palms were pressed together as she jumped up through two floors and landing on the roof of the inn, dust flying off, revealing the old masonry work that had been worked on years ago, a dirty roof tile had slipped and crashed into the cobblestoned road. Alice raised her head, the breeze carrying the scent of a wet day mixed with smoke from nearby chimneys.


    Meanwhile, Zabulus now had to fend off 3 other guardsmen who came in slashing with their swords in an amateurish fashion. Alice did leave him without a useful companion, since Laz was a good-for-nothing. Damn. He rolled behind the building and knocked one down the stairs that lead down into the main reception hall. The entrance and lobby weren''t built directly next to each other, thus, the opening allowed a way to throw an intruder down. But this wasn''t exactly a private establishment.


    "So you''re gluttony..." The man said, "Why, oh why would it be such a pretty lady? It''s almost depressing that the gods made you so beautiful. And it''s a shame the gods didn''t make you one of our kind to fight by our side."


    Zabulus entered a room, leaving Laz behind, knowing he''d be safe somehow. There, the three guards somehow had follow him. ''Amazing,'' He thought, ''Three in, two out...''


    The second one managed to catch the tip of his sword and thrust it deep inside. But, with all of his will power and concentration, Zabulus pushed that man away, which surprisingly worked. Albeit his body was frail as glass, and could easily break, it heals back as fast.


    The last guard''s sword came rushing through, aimed at his neck, Zabulus raised his hand, deflecting the sword with his hand, and then smashed his palm upwards into their throat, dislocating their trachea. But that force alone destroyed his palm, and rendered him useless. "I hate this, Alice. Make it quick."


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    His palm then began to regrow its skin, bones and muscles, the pain subsiding with each minute.


    Then he heard footsteps echo, an armored foot, followed by a sword and a shield clashing. It was the last guard, still trying to fight.


    It was the Dragon Guard. ''Ah, fuck.''


    He picked himself up and reached behind, pulling the blade that had stuck, and then pulling the sword that stuck as well, holding his right arm steady against the wall.


    His left palm held the shield, it''s wooden edge hitting his head hard.


    "Now, now. Are you not afraid of the god you blaspheme with this madness you bring? It hurts me so."


    He raised his chin and scoffed. A heavy sigh followed shortly after. "For if you do not know, allow me the pleasure of revealing this fact. The world as you know it, has already gone... so let me offer you one last meal. In this dying world. Please, demon, do try not to cry at this bittersweet ending. Goodbye, stranger, to my enemy."


    "I already forgot how painful dying was...!" Zabulus managed to groan, not taking the man seriously.


    Then, his voice rumbling loud and clear. "You speak a lot and are such a coward, all these guards can do are die on their own..."


    "And what''s this about revealing a fact? No need. This world is ending, yes, it already is."


    The Dragon Guard was somewhat amused.


    "No matter. Nothing you can do." He held his sword by the base of the blade and raised the pommel up until the point of the hilt, drawing a diagonal arc across, the force was now travelling towards Zabulus as fast as a jet plane.


    It pierced him, causing blood to spill, and for him to choke. Zabulus raised his right arm, attempting to manipulate the earth around him.


    Nothing happened. ''Damn it, of course...''


    The blade cut through him, slicing from one side of the chest to his collar bone.


    The sight was gruesome, the skin split into four thin lines, gaping wide open, exposing the upper portions of his ribcage, it was as though it were split like paper.


    In the meanwhile, Alice had been fighting the man on the roof.


    "Priests like you shouldn''t try to pick fights, no no no." She taunted, her hunger growing within her. She grew restless.


    He ran straight at her, his arms and legs moving stiffly as he ran.


    She ducked, ducking in a sort of dance motion, swinging her arm above her body, letting the back of her hand brush past the side of her head.


    They were both going at an indescribable pace, not a human would be able to perceive this fight properly.


    Alice swerved to the right, towards him and ducked again, this time pushing forward.


    His force sliced past her shoulder.


    His entire face twisted in agony as his teeth gnashed against his lower lip. The warm and sticky, crimson liquid, spilling out and dripping onto the roof tiles.


    ''Useless, and it''s pointless!''


    The wound did little but superficially wound him, her nails a force that no mortal sword could pierce, so what should her fear of such a mundane weapon be?


    His blood was oozing out in copious amounts as he backed up, stepping further and further away.


    "Damn you, epitome of gluttony. Show the greatness of a human!" The man cried, "Show some understanding to a humble and ignorant being! One who has been so afflicted with ignorance to the extent that they lack all knowledge!"


    She was not interested in his meaningless words, perhaps they were a last ditch effort for pity or to stall for more time.


    "Sorry, old man." She grabbed his neck and bit into it, her teeth sinking deeply, sending waves of pain and agony surging through his entire body. He groaned and screamed as he felt a sudden loss of strength as his insides were pulled apart and ripped.


    ''How... the power... of Eskra... has...'' his last thought alone, was not finished.


    "His god''s are quite pathetic, and he''s pretty boring, the holy book was not wrong." She looked over at Laz. "C''mon, get your shit together. We need to go." Although Laz was good at hiding and cowering away from conflict, Alice knew him too well to the point where even she didn''t really understand how he could''ve gotten that scared in the first place, considering his family tree, however, it''s hard to believe any sane person wouldn''t be a bit apprehensive.


    Zabulus was now slowly dying, the wound healing as much as it could, but blood was pouring out of him. "Ah. The book told me that..." He struggled with each syllable, trying to muster enough energy to talk, but it hurt too much, too much to move, and too much to breath.


    "So, will you die here, demon? How pathetic you are... yet you call yourselves Gods and Kings..." The man looked on, gazing with an unfocused glare.


    He looked down, only to find out he''s now collapsed onto the floor. Unmoving.


    ''It seems the Goddess of Eskra would allow this lowlife to meet a cruel fate...'' He thought bitterly.


    The guards all glanced upwards as he slowly rose, staring at him intensely as though they expected him to die from the bleeding. However, pitiful as he felt at the time, it didn''t matter anymore. He cut Zabulus'' head off, with a slight red glow, he placed it upon the marble and began to clean it.


    "Never underestimate a god. I hope I didn''t take too long, you see..." Zabulus started laughing.


    "What in the gods?!" The Dragon Guard exclaimed, suddenly concerned, looking like a small child in the face of a dark and dangerous stranger, "Impossible... the goddess could not fail, her great power and might could not fail..."


    Then a voice whispered softly, "Hush hush little man, are you confused? Allow me to explain, you are fucked. Royally fucked. As if your poor, wretched Goddess is just as powerful as it says, as a Great Planar, and I suppose you mortals do have quite some worship, and then you do not deserve your existence, however, the end comes to you no matter who is in your way..."


    "No... this is not what we were told... you... who are you? Are you Nagheel?!"


    "Hush hush, the goddess sees us, and now, we''ve wasted our time," Zabulus gave a laugh that seemed to echo out into the depths of hell. Then, the laughter continued on, resonating, piercing the darkness of the building. It sent shivers down every single soldier''s spines.


    Only one or two remained alive, however, as Alice took care of the rest and returned Laz to the inn.


    "Your allies were slaughtered by me. What would the gods think of such incompetence?" Zabulus'' head grinned maniacally, blood staining his mouth. The man grimaced, his face frozen in fear as he watched helplessly as the head grew longer, extending like a snake and quickly wrapping its arms around him. It continued to coil around him, tighter and tighter until his spine snapped.


    And he answered him, "I... have no name..." Zabulus'' snake-like body faded into nothingness and then the head also disappeared.


    The Dragon Guard had broken free and collapsed, screaming, "Gahhh! You''ve no idea... no idea! Damn it! It''s not over. It''s not!!"


    Though, it really was. His soul was subdued to a feeling of emptiness and numbness, a blank state, the memories and experiences were lost, lost, lost. It will never return. That being was already gone, it would not appear again, nor would anyone ever hear of him ever again.


    The battlefield became quiet, everyone stopped moving and all was peaceful.


    Peace, a bird in a cage. It was a forced peace, every being, albeit none, that had seen this would feel an unnerving sense of tension. That''s not to say everyone would leave. No, no... in fact, some had come. They all came, every soul that had been subdued, the whole city stood and watched and saw and believed, saw them fall.


    After all, who could ignore the sounds of such battle, the feeling of dread, of pain? The bodies were all brought in to make an example, these were not monsters nor demons. They all were ready to fight, ready to kill, ready to give their lives, even when it wasn''t needed, all that mattered was the rush of adrenaline coursing through their veins and the exhilaration it brings.


    Many humans watched, as the Nameless Dragon Guard, bestowed with Eskra''s greatest power, had defiled himself. His body contorting, bones twisting and flesh stretched and peeled from their skin, making way for something new, something unrecognizable to any god nor demon.


    A new form was given.


    Though his armor remained adorned on him. It was the first time such a feat had been achieved. An old prophecy, fulfilled. His bones had changed to resemble a skinny being, skin so dark that no light dares escape. Yet it remained. Skin was stretched, his heart pumped blood around his veins. He would never bleed again. But that''s fine, for such a change to take place, in the realm of mortality, was an achievement on his part, it was only natural he was honored.


    The people turned towards him and knelt, one by one. They did not know who they were bowing to, but it was more of a cult than a religion, a few would follow what they would consider their god, though this new transformation was unexpected.


    For what reason? What reason did they have to blindly follow anyone, even unknowing of who they were?


    Perhaps this was the nature of all that was. All living things must answer to this god, because only the strongest has the most to gain, to lose.


    After a while the Nameless Dragon Guard simply stared, "Who are you people?"


    In a panic, many quickly rose, whispering among themselves.


    The first guard turned around, stepping forwards, saying, "This is all in your best interest."


    The Nameless Dragon Guard looked disgusted. But nodded anyway. His followers stepped back, some watching, others whispering.


    He wanted to laugh, but he had to play part of the Nameless Dragon Guard.


    As of now, Zabulus had gained his audience, so what was going to happen next was only a matter of time before he decided what to do with them.


    ...


    Somewhere. Somewhere non-physical, somewhere in the soul. Somewhere in the back of his mind. Somewhere behind his consciousness.


    Something clicked.


    A person? A being, something. Something or other. It wasn''t really clear, but something definitely came by and noticed his soul floating alone, helplessly in a place he shouldn''t have even been.


    ''Where am I...?'' The Dragon Guard''s thoughts wandered as he was enveloped in darkness.


    ''Here... come closer.''


    ''Zabulus'', or someone similar, was sitting near a tree, looking up at a dark sky filled with clouds and sunshine, a perfect picture of a chaotic storm. His gaze was so entranced by the scene. He just stared. And as the figure walked towards Zabulus, it could only stare at him. He couldn''t move, couldn''t talk, couldn''t hear his surroundings.


    ''Where... where am I? What did you do to me?!'' The Dragon Guard yelled, though his voice barely echoed.


    ''Calm down, here, take a seat next to me.'' ''Zabulus'' patted the ground near the tree and smiled at him warmly, looking into the sky as the stars slowly shone brighter. ''Let''s have a talk.''

 A Dream is Nothing But a Reality With No Chance To Speak

    "Wh-who are you? Let me out!" The Nameless Dragon Guard cried, desperately wishing to escape from his unknown imprisonment. "My body..." He couldn''t help but shudder at his own flesh''s appearance, so why...


    Why did he look like Zabulus?


    His reflection in the still surface of the water was crystal clear, yet, he did not believe it.


    Everything seemed distorted, odd, and peculiar. It felt wrong.


    "Hey, don''t be alarmed, calm down." The Zabulus in front of him was in no mood for another outburst, "Your life is meaningless right now, what does it matter? It''s a life that was taken without consent. You know, I did not take a life, I took a demon, and he was created with me." The nonsensical words of Zabulus rang through the Dragon Guard''s mind, so much so, it felt like they were going to escape him. "Life, love, and happiness is all that I can see, and I won''t lie to myself about who I am. Nor should you. Now, will you sit down and have a chat with me?"


    The Dragon Guard trembled at his words, still terrified at the creature in front of him. But Zabulus did not want to force anything, nor would he if he didn''t have to. So the Dragon Guard sat beside the Zabulus impostor, though he still didn''t know why he trusted him at any point, as he listened, patiently, and wondered who he was.


    "Well, first let''s start with this, I can explain why it feels a little odd and surreal," the Zabulus ''clone'' spoke, "you see, your life had ended... and, so has mine."


    "But... I killed that demon... I lopped his head right off and broke his spine, how could it be!?" A Dragon Guard gasped in shock.


    "Ssh, don''t panic... your life ended and mine ended. That is the truth. But there is no way we die in here again, lest he dies." A statement as true as he made it. The Dragon Guard gasped again, "I don''t understand!" He yelled and turned away, clutching his hair tightly in a fist, a sudden urge to scratch at his own scalp washed over him.


    "Maybe you should calm down for a second and try to process what I say? This isn''t how you acted out there, all mighty and commanding. Are you hiding something from me? Hm?" Zabulus asked softly.


    Zabulus was amused with the reaction he got, he was tempted to laugh, but restrained himself, taking into account his current company, however, his amusement faded away, and in its place grew a frustration. It grew until the need to get out, the urge to tear his flesh, the temptation, the need. This was a constant effect of being within this soul, this world.


    "Okay... let me ask you one thing, where are we?"


    A question he waited for, and a question to answer.


    He closed his eyes, pondering, thinking, remembering, the words echoing in his mind, before looking upwards. "We''re in the soul of Zabulus. To be specific, or, as I understand... our souls have been usurped by his. By the looks of his own world, we have been drawn within, our fates are decided. Yet, this soul of ours has also taken a life, and that life happens to be his... I think..." The uncertainty in his tone was apparent, but it wasn''t necessary for the information he was relaying to the other individual.


    "Do you have a name, or shall I give one to you?" ''Zabulus'' Asked.


    "My... My name is Aeneus. Yours is Zabulus, yeah? If you don''t mind telling me... what are we exactly?"


    "My name isn''t Zabulus, but," He didn''t hesitate, "As far as we are concerned, we are his vessels, or, were. I don''t fully understand it myself, but for however many years I''ve spent here, I''ve come to understand that.." He paused slightly.


    "He is one that is killed by many, but defeated by none. That is to say, if you kill him, you become his vessel."


    His answer was surprising, the Dragon Guard was intrigued, "Defeat...? Him?"


    "Yes... as for you and I, we have to work together to survive and even maybe gain control of a certain... part of his soul."


    "Is it... just us?" He asked with worry.


    "No, rather, there are two others here. I know this as my memories remain. Our fates were connected, but yours ended with the death of one other man. When I left my body, he entered, and now, he, too, is also here."


    "Huh?" He asked, bewildered, "Then, whose memories are these?!" Aeneus gestured at his surroundings wildly.


    He received the most awkward response, "Mine." The ''Zabulus'' then looked around, pondering, searching, finding something new, an uncharacteristic expression on his face. "This was, mine, too." Aeneus realized, yet not angered by this, but a moment where he contemplated and took in the world around him. "How ironic," Aeneus chuckled, "Five spirits, four men, and one woman, destined to live in the same body... this memory," He looked at a red darkness, stretching out to infinity. Only with the sight of one fetus that had consumed two others, "Is this.. the future?"


    "No, Zabulus'' birth. Our birth."


    "Your birth?"


    "Yes. For as long as I have been here, I relived this same memory one time, five times, five thousand times. He... was one of my twin brothers. In the womb I... wound up eating him, I suppose. And after his soul usurped mine, the same occurred with my sister"


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    "What, the fuck?" He gawked, wide eyed, trying desperately to avoid his gaze as he stumbled backwards, falling and struggling to get back on his feet.


    The world started shaking, it rumbled as cracks grew larger and spread through the very ground, tearing and splintering.


    "Here, take my hand before we are seperated! Everything''s disappearing!"


    ''Zabulus'' approached, his right arm outstretched.


    ''He''s... saving me,'' Aeneus thought, reaching out, ''And he''s Zabulus. Is this what his soul is really made out of?''


    With both of them joined, the world of Zabulus shifted.


    Soon, they awoke in a different set of lands, a scenery like no other, a land of all gray and all white. "So that''s how this works, huh... so, we can alter this place," the Dragon Guard started.


    ''Zabulus'' responded with some curiosity, "What would you expect to find? We are a part of him, so our souls are his, and his is ours."


    "Hey..." Aeneus hesitantly responded, a sort of reluctance to the sound of his voice. "The way you phrase everything seems... uncomfortable. Why don''t you stop?"


    He stopped. "Listen, Aeneus, you don''t understand..."


    "Then explain. There is so much to this situation that you know, so much I don''t know..." He began, his own memory failing to work.


    "What else do you want to know? I told you the gist of it."


    "To start, are you actually Zabulus?


    "No, I''m his brother. I merely look like him because he''s the one fronting right now."


    "Fronting?"


    "Yes, as in, he''s the soul in control of the body. So, we all look like him."


    "Uh, I see. But you keep using ''we'', do you mean..."


    "The other souls, yes." They kept talking as they walked around the landscape that resembled an old, empty house. Only that they were sized like rats in comparison.


    Aeneus shuddered, his bones shivering slightly, a feeling akin to an earthquake. "Hahaha, this reminds me of the old, er, past."


    "But there is no time or past. Look," He pointed to a memory on the left, "That''s the past now."


    The memory was of grey water being poured down a drain.


    "I guess the water is Zabulus'' memories then? Why did they just fade away like that?"


    "Well, if it has finished being used, then they should return eventually. To all of us."


    "Meaning... will we all have these memories?"


    "Yes."


    The ''Zabulus'' laughed maniacally at that statement, smiling so wide. "Hey, what''s the issue? What did I miss?" He asked nervously, "Oh no... haha...! Oh... Agh..." He held his chest in pain, "Sorry... that was... far too close for comfort. So, are you aware you are inside me, now? No, you''re not. You don''t remember any of your previous lives, nor will you ever remember."


    "Never?"


    "It''ll never happen. FUCK! Okay, listen, the control is... shifting between both of us- So, a while later, I will be here again. Then another spirit takes its place. The more memories you gain, the easier it''ll be for you to understand. But please... do not... let your own memories return."


    "And who would take control over me? What would that benefit?"


    "You never know... it''s¡ªit''s random, he could appear, or some other shi¡ª" He was suddenly interrupted by a shout, "Watch it!! Are you alright there?" Another voice could be heard, a female''s, and Aeneus did not recognize who it was.


    A figure appeared in the distance, all black but with a single broken horn, 3 arms and a masculine figure. It did not fit the voice whatsoever. Aeneus noticed his own body had also changed. Did Zabulus'' brother front? Then, who was next to him?


    "Hehehe... Nice meeting you again, Aeneus."


    "Who are you? Why are you laughing? Did something happen?"


    "Come on... we met not too long ago! Haha!" He made extremely exaggerated and weird bodily movements as though trying to point something out about himself.


    It clicked with Aeneus. This guy... He was Zabulus.


    "HEEEEYYY!" The female voice shouted from far off in the distance.


    "Oh damn, it seems we need to pick things up, good luck," Zabulus told him and he started walking towards her.


    "Ah." The new consciousness of Aeneus quickly processed all of this, making mental notes, taking stock of his surroundings.


    He could see clearly now the shape of the body, its stance, its skin, everything about it seemed off. But he couldn''t point a finger, it felt as though everything was covered in static.


    "God, this body sucks." They both said in unison.


    It was surreal for the two, seeing each other and moving and not being enemies, even for how short they''ve known one another. But now, they had to act friendly. He just knew this by memory, given.


    "It does indeed suck. Anyway, let''s just go talk to this thing, I guess?"


    "Sounds good." Aeneus told himself, and with a smile and an expression that showed no emotion, Aeneus finally moved off, away from where he had stood, and made his way across the plains of their personal Hell.


    The wind rumbled and sighed throughout, their naked bodies cold as winter.


    "Hey, Hey! that''s a new guy, isn''t it? Tell me about it!!" The figure chirped, as they had seen him arrive.


    "Well... we had a big fight and... he ended up killing me. He was a good fight though, I tell you! Shit, I mean, he had a sword that had this... phantom range thing? It was... cool!" He talked to the ''girl'' as if she was a child being told a story by their father.


    "Did you get hurt? Like, you don''t look that damaged, aside from your horns, I guess..." She pointed to the cracks forming around where Zabulus'' missing horns would have been. Oh, this, no no no, that''s just, y''know, Guillerme''s, ah... effect on me, us."


    "Uh huh..." She went on to ask, "Where''s this Guillerme, is he... alright? Please don''t tell me he''s..."


    "Nooo, he''s fine, don''t worry. Take a look yourself!"


    Zabulus smiled as he put his hands over her eyes, helping her ''see'' what Guillerme was seeing. The visualization that passed through their minds made them both visibly nauseous and slightly dazed as well as excited and energetic, for no real reason.


    "Ha ha. Fuck. That guy is annoying, that guy pees himself a lot, you know?"


    "Does he?! Hahaha!" She laughed innocently.


    "Yep!"


    They both continued to laugh and then settled back to reality. They looked around the place with interest.


    "Yeah, it really was an annoying guy. Yikes, the memory looks the same, so no changes I assume."


    Aeneus watched as this... scarily innocent, yet monstrous interaction unfolded in-front of him.


    "So what about you, new guy? Who are you!"


    "Oh, uh. I''m Aeneus, I used to be... the Dragon Guard of Eskra... highest rank bestowed upon by the Goddess of Esk-"


    "Blehhh, booooriiing!" The girl said, interrupting, "But I like the horns! Tell me, what was the fight like?"


    "Ah, no no no, please, it''s not important, he killed me." Zabulus said in an almost embarrassed voice, trying to defuse the situation.


    The girl giggled playfully as the two walked away from the scene and continued their journey across this plain. "Good talk! Anyway, I''m Idalia! And this is my brother Zabulus!"


    She truly was... just a happy little girl. It was saddening, almost, how genuine the happiness of her voice was.


    "Please stop being so polite, Aeneus... Also, who the fuck names their kids Aeneus? like, Anus?" Zabulus said in a low tone so that Idalia wouldn''t hear it. In a way, Idalia was the only one he felt any familial connection to, and perhaps Guillerme as well.

 The Splinter of a Soul

    As of recently, life for Aeneus was becoming routine.


    Each day was a simple task. Though, this was only because their schedules didn''t get in the way.


    The task was keeping the memories at bay, so that the emotions that would follow could be controlled. And since those memories and emotions are Zabulus'' only chance, even for a soul such as him, an entity that seeks to know and experience, these memories would give him the necessary information.


    They were all given names, but he couldn''t be bothered to recall or retain the information about the soul... the psyche and everything that was spiritual or metaphysical.


    [3 days ago]


    "Uh, Zabulus? Can I speak to you for a moment?"


    He was working on a new and improved schedule, taking care of the few tasks involved, all at the same time.


    "Oh, no, I''m not who you think I am. My name is Vetro, I''ve seen you around however, Anus...? Aeneus? That is your name, isn''t it? You have my greetings and well wishes. May you have a wonderful day." Vetro smiled and chuckled heartily at this, his expression looking no less amused at the antics and sarcasm he displayed, he thought the wording funny and thus, it was simply fun to him. "Ahhh... my name isn''t ''Anus''. So, anyways, the other ''Zabulus'' talked to you?"


    "You mean Guillerme? You really ought to... learn their names, you know. I get that your reputation has been ruined in the living world by Zabulus but, you don''t have to obsess over that, alright?"


    "Sorry sorry... and I''m not obsessed. Just want back at him."


    "Who? Guillerme or Zabulus? Because you just called Guillerme the ''true'' one, even if you meant in just this one world of ours." Vetro said. He was right.


    "Fine... the true one is Zabulus... alright, there''s a lot about the whole situation, though... Zabulus made this problem, and we are just living by it." He took a deep breath.


    "Wow, slow down! There, that''s much better. Now, I would love to put the blame on this ''Zabulus'', but... you know, we... were the ones who killed him...?" He made a face of pure mockery, though he spoke with genuine sincerity, a sincere face that spoke without an ounce of spite towards his ''enemy'', "...right, of course. Ah, well, still, what''s done is done, hm? In fact, we may not be able to leave this place anyways, especially with these names and powers. So I just kind of live and try not to mess with him too much, then what happens, happens." Vetro just waved his hand dismissively at the ''conundrum'' their souls had found themselves in. "Anyhow, let''s just hope this goes well, Anus."


    His attitude was like a whirlwind and then, he just stopped. Like a deer caught in the headlights, but not as surprised or confused as one would imagine. He just... stopped and started to talk to himself.


    A million things happened all at once, not because of the sudden halt, but because... there wasn''t an end to whatever had begun. The events happening to them weren''t anything special, but because of all the forces driving his life now, Vetro was probably being affected in ways not even he could describe. The insanity in their world, it wasn''t meant for the souls in that place.


    Aeneus stood from where he had previously sat, feeling a sort of ceaseless feeling and sensation that pushed and prodded. Almost as if he were to burst open. It reminded him of the exact feeling that slithered its way into his body before, back in Narshes when he took control of the Dragon Guard. And the same feeling of when Zabulus usurped his soul.


    Vetro came back with his energy renewed, eyes focused and set to work, grinning wide, albeit the work was as simply as making sure a memory doesn''t spread beyond its natural boundary by using the power of their own Psyche; the Ephroebus, their will.


    Just as work was about to begin, Vetro noticed his body changing into that of a muscular, tattoo-covered man with a beard and hair in a long black ponytail, his skin was light. He turned towards Aeneus and frowned, "Why did it become this appearance... do I look... Oh, goodness, it''s you again."


    "Hellooo old friend! So glad to see you didn''t run away." Zabulus''s tone held a little less sarcasm than usual. "Well," he put his hands together, "You can''t!" Zabulus said as he laughed


    Disgruntled and a little annoyed, Vetro didn''t want to bother anymore with this and got right back to his work, knowing full well how important that was, since they were one in the same being. He understood, the faster and more effectively one works, the less of a chance that Zabulus will have the freedom to roam.


    He closed his eyes tight. His face distorted, his left hand contorted to the right side of his face, "Arrggghhhh..." Vetro moaned, and tried his best. To keep a memory at bay, however, one must experience it. This one was unfamiliar to him.


    Whos memory was it?


    Zabulus? Aeneus? Idalia? Guillerme? Or himself?


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    Not that it mattered. To him, a memory is nothing but an experience. Something he had to be conscious of to protect their psyche. It''s a distraction from their surroundings, a threat, a threat from another self of their own.


    Time felt strange here. What was this?


    A forest surrounded him, in all directions there was nothing but the noise of animals running, no... he ran, past their cries and through the dense brush, all he did was chase after, after something. The sun shone brightly in the distance.


    ''Do not stop!'' A man who was suddenly ahead of him commanded.


    ''The Siege of Narshes shall be our glory!'' Another yelled from the distance.


    ''Brothers, let''s not waste any time. We have a king to kill''


    Vetro screamed. But none cared to listen. He... screamed? Was it really him, who screamed?


    "Ohhh...!" Vetro groaned in pain and let his mind go blank, before a shout reverberated and filled every fibre of his body. "You are not mine!"


    It was not his. But, none cared to listen.


    The forest, a mess of intermingled noises. The noises of nature, the sounds of birds and insects and critters and whatever. His thoughts were all a mess, not of his own. His vision blurred. "Damn you all." Vetro said softly under his breath, cursing under it. The noises of battle, the sounds of men and metal clashing against each other, the smell of blood, and the scent of iron. He remembered the pain in his skin, his face covered in a warm red liquid that stained him, his armour soaked and dripping.


    Vetro''s body screamed, "KILL THE INTERLOPERS!"


    It hurt. His wounds hurt.


    His injuries and bleeding skin burned with hot needles and stinging sensations throughout his body. His eyes saw, blurred images. Nothing distinct, nothing distinct. His body writhed and squirmed. It made him think. Think about what the fuck was going on.


    "Make them stop!"


    ''The greatest danger lies in an enemy who possesses the strength of a dragon.'' A voice spoke to him in that moment. Intimidating, and calm. Vetro let out a choked gasp and fell to the ground, coughing as he felt his lungs burst apart, his throat aching, the blood on the soil around him coagulating, mixing in with his saliva and bile.


    ''Dear human of Eskra... do you wish to become a part of my dragonkin? To serve as my champion?'' He answered yes. The blood soaking his skin felt warm and sticky. Then a searing, tearing pain pierced his chest as he choked back a cry, letting himself get hit with a wall of bright, blinding red. He answered yes with a passion, without a thought nor hesitation. This event, even if it was nothing, meant everything to him.


    ''Then allow me to name you...'' The voice of the goddess said. ''You, shall be my one nameless guard. You will forget you had a name till the day you die. But your fate shall never change, I shall grant you my protection, your destiny, will become this... to kill one who shall use the dragons blood, but whose spirit is far from the real essence of the mighty wyrm. However, this task won''t be easy. Know you must, the enemy''s identity cannot be known, but will come to a reveal. Yet, a true Dragonkin needs not knowledge, for they simply are.''


    He spoke words that came out of his mouth as though they were being dictated by the world, no more, no less, "We are one... my goddess," the voice that spoke was no more. ''Vetro'' laid there, breathing slowly, raggedly, a small stream of blood trickling out of his nostrils, his eyesight growing dim and fading with the edges blurring, his senses becoming numb.


    As if a means to a method, the goddess granted him power on his final breath.


    Vetro awoke.


    Bolting up with a shudder and hissing breath, and looking around, as if something would approach.


    This memory was his, Aeneus'' memory.


    The information flooded into him as a pipe was being drilled straight into his head, pain, indescribable pain and torture, it''s so loud he can''t hear, everything is moving so fast. His pain isn''t for some reason as severe as his head is feeling, but he wants to throw up.


    Torture, nothing but pure torment and suffering in the worst case scenario, Vetro could not process everything at once, not fully, even, since he kept the information flowing like the speed of a slow stream.


    ''This memory... this life... it''s so horrible... AGH!'' He groaned, holding his forehead and making his way across the grass, he ran, leaving a trail. Leaving a bloody trail behind. Vetro fell onto the ground, rolling and tumbling and sprawling onto the ground, gasping in panic, a near psychotic and murderous fury. He didn''t know that he was back to the soul world, nor that he had only partially subdued the memory, but only for a moment.


    Once he calmed down a bit, he focused on the scene, ''What the hell is this? I can''t remember why... what is going on, there''s nothing more to these emotions and feelings... they''re not mine..."


    But the memory had been unleashed. Now, for each and every soul, each of the five to go through the agony, the pain.


    He thought about it deeply, if only for a short while, pondering how odd this would''ve been if that damned Zabulus was here with him.


    Clap Clap!


    His mood darkened even further than before, he glanced upwards at the skies above, the world seemed grey, bleak, lifeless.


    Clap Clap! These relentless footsteps are bothering him greatly. "You sure did an abhorrent job back there, Vetro!" Zabulus taunted him and his efforts with such an apathetic tone that it irritated the man, who cursed under his breath at the comment.


    Vetro clenched his hands to keep himself from yelling in frustration.


    If this continues then...


    Then, no, nothing is fine.


    "Get away from me, I will deal with you and your mockery another time." He could not lose control yet, it would have meant instant failure.


    "But, you know, I gotta thank you for this! If it wasn''t for this memory then, we wouldn''t have a proper meal today! Even I admit it! Hahaa... good job, Vetro," he shook Vetro''s shoulder enthusiastically, even when the other was reluctant, his cheerful mood only lasted so long and quickly, it replaced itself with a tone of desperation. Vetro did not understand it or him, but it wasn''t new for the latter anyways. "I need to get back to my body, no, your body." Vetro stepped back and furrowed his brows, glaring, ready to strike, "Zabulus... you don''t understand my intentions, your stupidity and ignorance blinds you."


    "Whaat intentions could you mean? Kill me?"


    Vetro lowered his guard again. He got too heated up. But the lack of emotion on Zabulus'' part did not falter, and only got more obvious, like he wasn''t able to show it properly, which would make sense since his goal is to keep the emotions under control and not let it leak out. That, and he was merely a child at heart.


    "Thaaat''s how you''re supposed to do it! Good job, now, I''ll see you sometime soon, hopefully."


    Then, his body changed, as quick and painful as it had done before.


    "Pff, what? Your memory can''t even handle you having a ''normal'' body!" Aeneus giggled to himself. "Nice, ahaha." Mocking Vetro for his frail body whenever he''s in control, Aeneus had his first laugh within this place.

 Cult Guide For Dummies

    Laz and Alice, two old friends from a time unknown to the men of Eskra and the dragon kin of Narshes, had long forgotten how far back their connection spans, and neither knew just how strong the link was that they shared between the two. Perhaps they would never find out, perhaps they''d realize the depth of their relationship when it''s most crucial for their futures, who knows...


    But the topic has long changed and shifted from that of mere friendship, towards that of comrades, of battle, of magic, and of sacrifice. It was the worst kind of fate for their story, to end up like this.


    As pawns for a cult of a friend, and for one to not have any memory of the friendship.


    A stage in a theater was lit and set for a spectacle, a play, one would call it.


    However, even with a performance of such epic proportions, there''s not a single viewer who''s not distracted, not even the actors themselves. They were dead focused and nearly tearing up from the sights of the actors.


    One of them was Zabulus, in control of Aeneus'' body. Playing the hero of the story.


    The other, Alice, playing his adversary, and she played a truly compelling and charming woman, charismatic and powerful in her own right, she would make a wonderful villain...


    If not for the fact that her mind, heart, and very soul, were of a monster of the highest caliber; a monster that currently hungers so much she could eat the audience in all of her beauty, and a monster that she herself would rather not be eaten.


    If one were to look closely at their situation, the relationship they had between each other was more alike a god and their worshippers. As Zabulus claimed, for all this, they''d make a wonderful priestess, albeit unintentional and a true inconvenience in his case.


    Despite the change in his bodies appearance, the armor adorned by the Dragon Guard helped him pass by as the same person he was. He could even act the same due to being able to partially share soul and memory. Albeit... his horns were quite uncomfortable in this helmet.


    Anywho, a handsome face and muscular build was not a hard feat for a member of his species...


    He looked rather like an orc in his own eyes. But not ugly. At least to humans.


    He looked somewhat like Aeneus and bore many scars like him, albeit these were superficial in actual meaning now.


    His breath was heavy under the armor, and his legs felt heavy, sore and tired from his running all across this building. There was no chance to pause or catch his breath, for he had a play to finish.


    With the air already filled to the brim, he didn''t want to waste the opportunity to get closer to his ''subordinates''. He glanced towards one who was cowering and shaking, pleading. "Oh... great Dragonkin... I am sorry, please give my soul the chance to serve the goddess, take my life instead of my brother''s, please!!" His face looked of sorrow as he held his head high and eyes closed, his hand trembled as he bowed down in submission, waiting for the Dragonkin to deliver his death. "No, I... I shall not slay a comrade or brother-in-arms... and not family. I shall not be the end of his line..."


    "HEHEEHEEEEHEEEAAHHHAAA HA HAAA!" The pleading man laughed maniacally, tears streaming down his face. The screams sounded more akin to a person who had gone through complete madness after suffering far beyond mortal imagination and sanity. His laughter sounded terrifying, like the cries and calls of the demons of the underworld, screaming and reaching into his brain, forcing his body and mind into the ways of hell itself. "Yooou, will have to. That. Orrrr, your very goddess will turn her back on yoooouuu. Unless." He trailed off, smirking.


    He got on the stage where Zabulus and Alice were standing, "Sacrifice yooour very being as I have... and spare thiiis pathetic liiiife," The man stopped talking in a calm manner, staring intensely at both of the players and continuing his speech with a demonically twisted, high-pitched shrieking.


    Of course, this was all part of the play.


    "You demon!" Zabulus said loudly with fury, clenching his fist and unsheathing the blade from the scabbard that was in the hold of his belt.


    He cut through the air so fast the sword almost didn''t make a sound. ''Ouch...'' He wanted to say, but he couldn''t let his image falter in front of his audience. He had to impress, as his body weeped in black liquid from the new wound on his neck.


    The sight of this caused shock among the spectators and caused them to panic. The crowd in front of the stage rose in a cacophony. Screams rang out as a massive wall of chaos, insanity, and sheer horror spread across as a man died in front of them.


    No... these weren''t screams of horror. This was a hysterical laughter of rage.


    No... these weren''t screams, simply, the faces of spectators were being rewritten, changed, distorted, warped, altered... into one of pure hatred and resentment for the man who attempted to defile their goddess by cutting down another.


    The laughing continued. Loudly and violently. So intensely it shook the ground beneath the feet of those on stage.


    The laughing wasn''t coming from Zabulus'' body, for that matter. Not from the Dragon Guard, or even Alice.


    "WHAT A BEAUTIFUL GARDEN, TRULY!" a laughing man said.


    "Ahhh, my daughter, she''s so pretty, so elegant, oh yes, she''s definitely the one who''s got this situation figured out." An older female voice said.


    "Yes... what an intelligent little thing she is." Another one agreed with the lady.


    A fourth voice chuckled to himself softly and shook his head slowly. His response wasn''t audible, or maybe it wasn''t his voice at all... "She''s lovely indeed! Ahh... the goddess will be satisfied with this vessel!"


    Many upon many people were all around in groups and in crowds, some all on their own, others with no less than five others. The laughing went on. Some of the men and women even danced, laughed and sang songs of praises for this so called ''Goddess'' of theirs, as well as ''Zabulus''.


    They sang their praises, they did. The song went as it did;


    "So glad you came, to the garden, to the Garden, I''ll be here for you! Glad you''re with me! We are alive! You have given us life and purpose. To this Garden, this so called ''Doom'', Hahaa...."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.Alice remained expressionless, her hands behind her back. "Ahhh! my oh my! looks like I have to go to... the doctor!" She said to Zabulus sarcastically, although she wasn''t sure he heard her.


    She slowly walked away as their strings grew taught with danger, as if tugging on her nerves as she walked offstage, trying not to get noticed.


    "Enough!!" Zabulus cried, clenching his fists tightly in frustration, unable to hide the look in his eyes.


    Alice took this chance to swiftly exit the stage and reach the edge of the balcony on the first floor of this ''masterpiece''. From here she would get a better view of the ''people'' gathered, her attention was fixed on her main focus, though, this focus didn''t stop her from wanting to eat everyone in the room.


    It all felt wrong... she didn''t even get to play her role in the play! Zabulus stole her spot as the protagonist! How dare he?!! She almost screamed... and it wasn''t even worth yelling anyway... though she was meant to play the villain anyway, but still couldn''t.


    After a while, the screams began to calm down and the laughs, which were once jovial and genuine, began to be replaced with a silence so intense and heavy it could''ve stopped a man''s blood cold, a fear that made men cry out, and tears rolled down his cheeks like rain drops onto a window pane. Was it his presence, that resembled that of an ungodly being?


    That, was her cue, and so, she descended the stairs that would lead her into the theatre''s hallway, there, Laz was sitting at a table, writing on a piece of paper and humming lightly. His usual smirk never left his lips.


    As Alice walked out into the darkness, the walls illuminated brightly for a split second then settled back into a natural level of illumination.


    "Laz? What on earth are you doing...?" She said as she approached, a slight waver in her voice, something else was lurking underneath that made her tremble.


    His face quickly brightened, the smile became more sincere. He raised his hand, waving gently, signaling a sign for his friend to come sit next to him and help her relax.


    His hair was now much shorter, before it used to be a ponytail like an old man would have, now it was a normal man''s hair, though this style seemed more suitable to him, for he now wore a simple dark red suit, his pants and shoes being made of the finest leather.


    On his nose sat glasses which were dark brown and circular, almost like those glasses of ancient time. He took a cigarette out of a black metal case and lighted the cig.


    "So, I wanted to ask," Laz said, "Where did we meet? Anywhere?" He smiled. The question was as innocent as a flying insect in the open world of Eskra. Yet the words spoken had such immense impact on her.


    To understand a relationship, to love each other, to care for each other so dearly and unconditionally is something the man always cherished in the depths of his soul. Yet, now, he recalls none of it.


    To know this is torture to Laz and the people around him, and he doesn''t understand a single damn word of this pain. It is merely a curse, the feeling of unrecognition and loss of the self and those he once knew. As much as he felt it, he didn''t register nor understand it at all.


    Not yet, at the very least, maybe one day.


    "We, uhm. met... in a tower. Well, to be more specific. It was me, the three of us in a tower. It was... during a war, and... you were the leader... of one side? Something about that tower. That''s all." She wasn''t sure. So she lied to protect his sanity.


    "Oh! I see! So it was me, Zabulus, you, and Aeneus, right?" Laz asked innocently, without an ounce of sarcasm.


    She blinked.


    "Who''s Aeneus...?"


    Laz laughed. Then his expression grew grim at a realization.


    "Oh... t-that''s nobody. A friend who died recently." He frowned.


    She saw it in his expression that told her it was better not to press on, so, they remained quiet.


    "Okay, tell me, what exactly have you written about, if you''re writing at a time like this, surely the situation has gotten... tense," she trailed off. The black ink dripping. Sweat drops forming at a molecular level. Eye lenses enlarged, veins pulsating and pumping, heart beating steadily in her ears.


    Laz smiled warmly.


    "Well, nothing too bad, only good things, the good memories. Me, Zab, and you." He paused, "And sometimes, my wife."


    "Your wife? You never-"


    He was quick to interrupt, as if anticipating this response.


    "We all have different memories. Zab is our guide in this adventure." He paused again. "What do you remember?"


    He smiled, warmly. And Alice blinked.


    Her mouth was parted, about to reply. But Laz didn''t move and neither did he take note of this.


    "I... why do you want to know? What do you want from... just, this?" Her expression shifted and twisted, contorting in a way that was all too visible.


    "Relax...! Don''t you see what the goal is, dear?"


    "I can''t read your mind, Laz..."


    Meanwhile, the cultists were in the audience. They had all returned and resumed their duties; cheering. Some watched closely the two actors on stage, others ignored it.


    Yet their silence was a message for all, the scene unfolded like some tragedy of ancient plays and all present knew this was something not unlike death, but something closer, more intimate to them, a communion.


    In the far reaches of the world, where nothing of note lies, not even a single pebble, a figure sits. A man sits in an empty chair. He watches over through an orb as it glows and glows, like a row of candles lit by a singular campfire. He had a long gray beard and a single robe resembling an old magician, with a bald dome that seemed to make him shine brighter. "I see. The anomaly is growing."


    He took another look through his orb. And looked deeply into his globe of vision, staring intensely at the images being portrayed and moving with quickening speeds and rapid flitting movements and sights, noises and conversations, the events are endless and appear before and after him in real-time. The sights of Zabulus and his cult.

 And Whos To Say its Nothing?

    Zabulus stood atop a chair and raised his hands up to the sky and brought them together above his head. He was smiling and gazing around at those in his audience. The cultists applauded, the cultists roared and bellowed with loud shouts and excited whispers, a vast majority of them looking quite happy.


    In their expressions they were joyful as much as they could be, their bodies were strong and their hearts and souls were strong in the mind.


    They were happy, so very, very happy. Oh how he made them laugh, and they were content. They had no fear, not a shred of doubt left in their minds; just unwavering pride for the man who had given them their strength and purpose. The man that had led them here, into a Garden that wasn''t like any garden before.


    The theater was no longer their communion, for they could not hold back their cheers of euphoria any longer.


    There were others who also stood near him, though not part of his audience, no, they stood there observing from a distance, those being Alice and Laz, with a tense air between them. They could not look away from Zabulus, both seemingly fascinated with his performance.


    Zabulus was amused, impressed at the display before him. Though it was expected of him. To be entertained by his people, by his loyal and dedicated followers who he despises so much and couldn''t care less for. The ones who follow a mans word blindly just because of the armor he adorned, or because of the title he has given by a god they don''t know.


    However, no, he couldn''t allow the feelings to flow freely and wild as they did earlier, for he needs to maintain a certain fa?ade that keeps their morale from collapsing and him from spiraling into insanity. Their mental, fragile, weak. Walking around with only their smiles as a guide, thinking the gods would give them happiness forever. That their souls would reach paradise. That they will ascend beyond mortality.


    Of course, only an idiot would believe this, no intelligent person, and he wouldn''t dare take this kind of idiocy lightly or treat it well.


    Even so. This cult that he had formed for his own self satisfaction, isn''t really a place to be happy and merry. For as long as it serves a purpose, Zabulus himself isn''t a friend or comrade or brother like they think him to be.


    "Now then! My friends, let''s take a rest, I''m sorry I have taken up your time today and kept you out of your schedules. You know how much I appreciate the service you have done for this town, and the amount of sacrifice and effort you''ve put in this..." At this point, the entire town had either fled to elsewhere in Eskra, or become a part of his cult. "...The purpose, the duty to protect Eskra, and uphold its ideals for justice, and defend their loved ones. Even if those same ideals are meant to bring happiness." Zabulus paused, attempting to give his speech some sort of serious tone, despite the irony behind the words he said. And in that pause, it wasn''t just the crowd that looked towards Zabulus. The two of his companions who stood idly, as well, did so as well, confused.


    "But! I have one final request, for you all to prepare for tomorrow''s service, before our sacrifice can begin. We shall need to meet at the edge of the town for this..." Zabulus stated in his dramatic tone of voice. "Oh yes, this ritual, my friends, is quite crucial in securing the goddess'' protection from any potential future invaders..." His smile visible beyond his restricting helmet, his eyes narrowed slightly.


    His last statement made Laz laugh, thinking the words to be rather amusing and dumb, as if Eskra would need such defenses in this day and age. However, the other man in their small company of ''friends'' had a blank, distant, yet serious stare on his face.


    "I ask you all to rid me of this world at once. Go forth!" With that, Zabulus waved his sword in the air and pointed it at the first cultist who he was able to see. His gaze was a mere dot in the audience but soon, his focus went back to those of his compatriots. "I... No, We! We will create the perfect being together through my blood being shed on you all! Through this we will secure this realm''s future and bring forth a new world! As my death will create my successors!"


    A stunned silence hung in the room.


    Alice had her brow furrowed. A sudden smile tugged at the corners of her lips and began spreading quickly over her face. "Ahhhh! So that''s what he wants to do... Goodness, he does such amazing work..." She held the side of her cheek and lifted her chest as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly, releasing all the pent-up stress that had been accumulating inside for a rather long period of time.


    The cultists, as if animals in a cage fighting over one piece of food, scrambled and lunged at each other, while still maintaining that cheerful vibe they had displayed up until this point. "Kill that monster!!" Zabulus demanded in an almost casual fashion, pointing to a random member who was then swarmed and beaten into submission, before being killed so fast that not even Alice would be able to see or comprehend the process that led to the end.


    And as it continued, the entire audience, with an absurd amount of enthusiasm, decided to continue their mass genocide, creating a frenzy of people throwing themselves at the men of the Dragon Guard and not hesitating to take every single life he ordered them to.


    In total, there were 23 casualties, out of the 638 survivors, if only it was under better circumstances...


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    Not long after the chaos, Laz and Alice, who now looked at the scenery with...


    ''Yes, you are one idiot... just like the rest of you fools''


    He and the girl, whom Zabulus was reminded was named Alice, walked side-by-side. He found them extremely strange.


    Despite looking into Laz''s memories for as much as he wanted to, he never found the memory where he met Alice.


    Did these two ever truly know each other?


    He could only wonder for now, for his power was quite useless as it was. But, he still had those odd, ''animalistic'' desires and needs, to gain more and more control over the human psyche... Even if he didn''t understand his own power, nor Humans.


    The same old question would repeat itself; would anyone believe the fact that he, who had fallen off the throne of the mighty wyrm, fell prey to such petty actions as jealousy? No. Not for these fools.


    But in all seriousness, it was understandable why he felt this way, right? His only two companions are a glutton incarnate and a cowardice incarnate. These two aren''t people whose presence you should wish for. But now, all Zabulus had was this kind of power.


    Suddenly, Laz looked up and caught him.


    Zabulus stood frozen and unmoving as he stared down into the black void.


    Over the past few days, his ''vision'' had improved, sometimes he''d see beyond what could be seen, beyond what could ever be, to places no mortal being could possibly imagine, and in other moments, he could barely see an inch past his hand. In such moments, he could barely see himself. But his perception was normal for those of his species, he figured.


    The wind whispered through the tall stalks of dead grass, rustling against each other and his legs as he walked onward and deeper and deeper into this field of dry, brittle and yellow-looking ground.


    All the cultists had stopped what they were doing, and stood perfectly still, motionless. Not even the air dared move around them, or the clouds floating slowly overhead or the sun''s light shining bright down on them all. No. All stood without movement. They watched, with fear...? With curiosity? With a hunger? With joy or anger, or excitement. What was the right word?


    Who gave these humans the authority to speak?


    All were staring and watching, their gazes burning his skin as they looked at him, and only him and nobody else, with those dull expressions of theirs and the piercing glares they''d give to anyone unfortunate enough to be in their sights, whether they''re strangers or familiar faces or even themselves, no matter who and where they came from, there''d always be eyes to stare them down, even if the target''s alive or not.


    But now they stared with a terrifying sensation, that kind of look on their faces, the expression. Their wide and startled gazes, orbs of soulless and soulless irises that only had empty pits of white and black pupils.


    "Now." He spoke, his voice akin to a god who had been reduced to something of an alien. He spread his arms wide like an eagle, each foot firmly placed and set and his body turned with such elegance and finesse. His movement was not at all something expected. His steps graceful and balanced. He held a sword in a way no man would carry, he held himself upright and ready for battle, without waver or hesitation. But this wasn''t a declaration for a war or anything.


    "I ask you, to gather your weapons, anything. Pitchforks, spades, kitchen utensils, whatever, find what you wish," his voice was louder now, it echoed and carried through the air, amplifying further every time a new word was spoken, or the one before the last. "Your sacred tools, the best of the bunch." He knew that he said it''d be soon, but no one would contest him even if he wasn''t being truthful, as their obedience and obedience alone, were the ones they chose. No, no one would refuse and disobey the great Zabulus, albeit they knew him as Aeneus.


    "Hey!" A cultist shouted. "Heyy!! Whaat?! Hey! Hey! Heeyyy... I can hear yoouuu, don''t make fun of meeeeee....!! Hey...!! Hooh... huh.." The cultist spoke to nobody he could see, confused as he was, Zabulus took notice of his behavior and gazed upon him intently.


    Another man began screaming and yelling with all of his might, tears streaming down his eyes, nose runny and hair flowing free around him in a manner so messy it resembled the dirtiest mop in the history of the land.


    Zabulus kept silent.


    The rest were crying. Tears, loud, loud, loud... It all felt so loud. They understood the truth behind his words.


    Many thought they''d be with their god for days, many thought it''d be hours, but for it to be this soon?


    Some were already huddling up close together and embracing each other. It was an eerie sight.


    Was it just him? Why wasn''t anyone else responding? Was there no response at all?


    Then, they all turned to him, emotionless with their weapons. The sight incurred a slight feeling of uncanniness in him, but no reaction was forthcoming. They would have to be prepared in due time, after all.


    "Let us, the followers of Aeneus the Dragonkin, fulfill the will of our lord and master."


    His arms, still spread and with the posture of one on a high, raised the weapon he had held for quite some time already and showed it. The sun reflected off of its shiny surface in a blinding glare. It glistened in a way that could kill blind men, for they would simply explode at the sight of it. A sense of dread fell upon him. The crowd didn''t waver nor break down and run like a river of flesh. If anything, they were very much ready to kill their own kin and fellow cult members in a blind bloodlust for glory. They did not scream nor protest, or complain or fight or do anything, no, they only kept silent and still as their eyes stayed open, so wide that their eyelids wouldn''t dare close shut anymore. He could see the veins inside their pupils, pumping and circulating.


    And with a movement so fast one had to use an electron microscope to perceive and capture it, the blade left the man''s hands and made its way to one of the people in the far back of the mob of bodies.


    And at once, they all charged. But the charge was silent. It was deathly quiet.


    His breathing was heavy. He could hear the pounding of his heartbeat increase its pace and frequency by a minuscule amount of time. And their swords swung. Their weapons pierced, their clubs fractured. They didn''t move at the speeds that were recorded and measured in the past, but it seemed like a huge horde of charging, raging mad men. And they were indeed raging, with a bloodlust of madness. He, alone, and alone. Against a small mob, is how it felt, despite his wishes.


    In what was an instant, all their weapons had stopped as he was pierced by every single one. An invisible force coming from the back of the mob and slicing him in half, splattering everything on his front side everywhere. It was, unfortunately and luckily enough, a quick death for everyone who had attacked him, due to his blood spraying everywhere. But his hands had just barely enough time to cover his eye sockets.


    For a third time, Zabulus had died.

 To Rest. To Start The World Over Again.

    Bu.....bu.....bu.....


    A darkness surrounding him, filling him, encompassing every ounce of space of this abyss and still growing and ever growing.


    Is that... music that plays? A piano, strumming across the deep chasms below this plane of existence... or maybe it''s just the sound of his own breathing and heart thumping, racing within the hollow chamber of his chest.


    Maybe it''s the sound of the souls of others around him, sluggishly moving about, fluttering about, being carefree, their existences fading and slipping away ever slowly.


    Is his fate, to lay here as a mere lump of meat, waiting and waiting and waiting until he rots to oblivion, without even being granted a moment or chance or momentary respite? Or was it just this eternal existence for his soul? To simply sit there, suspended, floating aimlessly around in nothing and everything, and in no direction. No goal, no destination, no purpose whatsoever. No destination...


    Destination...? Ah.


    That''s what this place was missing. He had an epiphany. But he didn''t move. He wasn''t sure.


    Instead, he rested and laid and stared and gazed out in the pitch darkness that swallowed him in. Many of the souls wept in a way one would normally expect from a human being with a brain in their skull. Some of them spoke and tried talking to the others, as if attempting conversation or attempting to form bonds between them. Most, however, were not at all receptive.


    The darkness turned into a light, into a fiery orb that flashed bright above their heads and radiated its light all around them.


    A strong pulse of light radiated outward, the walls crumbled, shards and pieces broke and cracked. It wasn''t just walls; it was the sky of this soul. He floated about, alone. In an ocean of nonsensical nothingness. His body didn''t have any sense of form, or gravity, no gravity meant no mass, and no mass meant no strength. He couldn''t move, not a muscle or anything, nor did he need to, because his consciousness was riddled with fatigue and exhaustion. This fatigue wasn''t an inconvenience or an obstacle, rather, it was like being stoned and drunk simultaneously. But he knew, somehow, even if his mind wasn''t entirely coherent or whole or stable or working or normal, that it felt and saw this as a beautiful vision... or it didn''t have much of a perspective to begin with... but still felt. The purest of joy and sorrow. Like happiness was just the highest peak. And there was an eternity in its journey up that path of euphoria.


    A perfect being, perhaps it was a perfect existence, in this idealistic dream world. Where it''d be infinite, and no other desires needed or wanted, no hatred and no grudges, no selfish desires. Maybe just the essence of living itself...


    What makes for a good life... is a question. And there is no answer for. If there was. It''d be a selfish answer. As there is no such thing as absolute morality, or absolute truth or meaning, or absolute anything.


    Many a thought rushed through Zabulus'' mind during that long and timeless and forever sleep of his, the sleep of ages.


    Even after all he had been through in the body of his enemy, he hadn''t found an answer that would satisfy the many thoughts and feelings within his soul. But now, maybe he''d become a perfect being.


    Light echoed and reverberated across the abyss. And the noise shone from below him. But no, below wasn''t below or below wasn''t a word, he''d been above it all.


    A great change in scenery and surroundings occurred before him and all around him, in every direction possible. A wooden cottage. A familiar sight, or not, he couldn''t remember. Yet this was not familiar to his subconscious, nor his memories and thoughts. The walls had turned brown and white, some faded, some brighter. Everything here seemed older than his own self, and if anyone came from the other side, surely, they would be...


    The feeling of someone''s hair on his face was also different from anything else. His breath stopped completely. He opened his eyes to take in the environment and what''s outside this house.


    Then, he perceived. He was laying down on the ground of the cottage, and right above his face was Alice''s, staring at him upside down, with her blonde and straight hair dangling and touching against his cheek. She looked gorgeous like a princess, her beautiful blue eyes and rosy cheeks... He was staring straight at the tip of her nose and her face, this was of course, only natural.


    She continued watching him in this position for some time, her hands next to his head on the ground and her eyes gazing deeply, staring right into his soul and into the very depths and beyond.


    He got lost in his own mind, looking away and back to the girl, glancing between her two gorgeous, hypnotic eyes.


    The one looking at Alice, was Guillerme. He wished not to stare. So he broke away and gazed into the window, though she couldn''t tell where he was looking, as his eye sockets were empty.


    Alice got up and adjusted her clothes, tying her hair behind her ear. Guillerme noticed the difference between their heights immediately. Her pale skin and her flowing blonde hair, which had grown down almost to her hips.


    How much time had it been since he was last the one in control? Was it weeks, or only days? Had this creature experienced something new before this period of rest? Perhaps he may have experienced new sensations, ones he did not comprehend or recognize from before. But, how can he possibly tell if the person next to him experienced this as well? He couldn''t.


    So, he sat straight up and pushed himself up, turning toward her, "You''ve changed so much, Alice." Guillerme spoke his name while walking away. His body turned towards the girl, the hooded head turned a full 360 degrees and the headless body faced opposite. Not once did he turn his gaze toward the door or windows. His shadow remained calm and motionless. The wood beneath his feet was immaculate and shiny. "You look as young as ever," Guillerme''s voice said.


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    She seemed to understand who he was, so she welcomed this personality with a warm smile and walked slowly towards him, only to embrace him from behind. "It''s only because you haven''t grown a single inch yourself, Guillerme."


    But that statement. That. Just one line from this small conversation. Made Guillerme realize a couple of things.


    First, that it had not been mere days or weeks that had passed, but likely months, where Zabulus or the other hundred souls were in control.


    Second, was a mere understanding in his own soul and mind. In simple terms; he wasn''t one individual being. He was an array, an assortment. A conglomeration of personalities. Though at first there were just 3-5 of them. Somehow, he thought at the beginning that it was normal. They spoke as one voice and they laughed together at times.


    Third, they were capable of falling in love, at least, those of his original 3-5...


    And now that the many hundreds had assimilated, they felt the same exact same way. That was strange. Did Guillerme have romantic feelings as a part of the original of three? Maybe. He did not know. But if anything, he felt strongly connected to her, to Alice.


    If Zabulus was going to do the work for him, then Guillerme might as well sit back and relax. "I don''t like how you play games with me. But I suppose this time I''ll enjoy it." He joked, trying to pass this off as a mere game, yet at the same time, trying to emphasize his point to her.


    Alice placed her hand over Guillemer''s chest. Her eyes closed and her head lowered. "If anything... I should thank you..."


    Guillerme narrowed his eyes.


    "Thank me?"


    Alice opened her eyes and stared intensely into the shadows behind the hood. She must have seen it again. Guillerme wasn''t sure, but maybe it wasn''t himself inside. Yet this voice, this body, and these feelings, the way she behaved and carried herself; It felt familiar, safe.


    "Hey, Alice?"


    "Yeah?"


    "What do you think about him?" Guillerme gestured toward the opposite side.


    A strange sight, no doubt. But it''s all just a matter of perspective. The way his head was tilted toward the left, was to indicate Laz. Yet his body remained in a 12 o clock stance. As if a puppet on a string.


    Laz was there, right in front of him. At arm''s length. At the mercy of Guillerme''s presence, he couldn''t exactly describe why he chose to keep him this way, when he could simply give word and the other body would react the way he''d command him.


    "Do you hate him? After all the trouble he caused?"


    "...Not really. What''s done is done."


    "I see... then, what about the girl? My... sister." He said hesitantly.


    "I feel the same way as Laz." She nodded in response and smiled gently.


    The sun set down behind the horizon line, bringing warmth and orange, blue, and red, hues of pink into the atmosphere. Somehow, blue slithered its way through the light. Likely due to the fact that regardless of how much time passes, they are within the void in blue.


    "...And... Don''t you hate me?" Guillerme asked innocently and honestly, but then, as he was processing that thought, his face grew puzzled at his own question. "Or is this too late?"


    Guillerme couldn''t even hear her reply because of how the soundwaves were carried away from him, but he was at ease, as she embraced him so tenderly with both of her arms wrapped around him.


    It felt wrong and it hurt. His emotions. They were still there, albeit different from what he could recall them feeling like. How ironic.


    "Can you blame me, then...?" He sounded a little different. Not his usual playful and humorous tone, not his arrogant attitude or condescending and narcissistic disposition.


    His voice wavered as the question was made, as if about to break down and cry, though he didn''t break his stern stance.


    His body, his legs, he had always kept to the back, and as Alice''s arms embraced him, he felt as if they were grabbing onto thin air, the fact that she hadn''t said a word and had done nothing to respond.


    Was that a good or a bad thing...? That''s a difficult question to ask. Especially since it would seem a lie if it was a good thing, though if it''s a negative, then, oh well, he wouldn''t dare interact with her again.


    Guillerme figured they might talk for a short while more, but it was at that moment an uncomfortable silence washed over their conversation like a storm cloud passing by them. Neither knew what the other was thinking at the moment, as they had all had differing opinions, yet even then, the touch between the two continued. As if they were two reunited lovers meeting again for the very first time in a lifetime and decades apart.


    Though it wasn''t even ten minutes since this little reunion began, but nonetheless, Guillerme didn''t protest or try resisting her tight embrace either. His body was physically uncomfortable. Was it because of how many more people were protesting in his soul? They weren''t speaking but the turmoil going on deep in his heart didn''t go undetected.


    Did they find fault and error in his choice of actions and in his decision making process? That thought kept pushing him deeper and deeper down into uncertainty.


    "Because of him... so many lives were lost and... now we have to deal with the aftermath..."


    It didn''t sound like an excuse. He wasn''t denying his role, no, nor was he taking any credit. The fact that he even considered doing anything as severe as sacrificing humanity to fix a small mistake didn''t make any sense in the slightest. And his mentality, at first was pretty childish, so the logic in his reasoning was even less rationalized. He was going around with the ''everybody will forget about us sooner or later and when that happens, we will disappear together'', kind of approach. A delusion like that wouldn''t just stay and remain stable forever.


    He joked to himself sometimes that they''d all forget since they''d be dead, but that didn''t seem too far-fetched considering how his brother is.


    "Alice... I hope you can forgive me." Those words fell upon deaf ears.


    She fell asleep in this position, embracing him whilst standing.


    Wow... she really was sleeping, despite it all... and then, for whatever reason, the tiny flicker of the light bulb over their heads shattered.


    ''You have a plan for the world right?'' A voice echoed from below him, resonating across his being. ''A very special plan.'' The voice mused.


    And so he spoke aloud with confidence and a smile, to whom nobody saw.


    ''Yes I have!'' He responded


    ''This world is a mistake.'' It said,


    ''What?'' Confused, he replied.


    ''This world is a mistake.'' It repeated.


    ''Your plan is a mistake.'' He replied.

 What it is To Forget

    ''It''s better to keep things as they were and wait a million years until your life begins again. That''s the only way to rid yourself of guilt.'' He kept a pensive gaze. The nighttime light was dim but it illuminated the darkness well. The sound of the wind blowing, the moon glaring down at the land, the clouds and blue overhead, all reflected in his dark brown pupils.


    "I agree." he told. A figure in his hands, and not just a hallucination from fatigue, the blood of his body had already stopped and gone cold for days, maybe weeks... Regardless, she slept on peacefully while he held her body, as if an image burned into his memories. It wasn''t real. It wasn''t fake either.


    Maybe they would never wake.


    ''When will this end...'' Zabulus'' voice raged quietly and in anger. It wasn''t a cry of pain, again, but of frustration and anger at everything he had seen Guillerme do. All the blood spilled by his hand, and the souls he had stolen, or had attempted to, or maybe even the innocent men and women, and even three children, all just to end up with a body that is cuddling a woman''s body.


    Guillerme breathed deeply for a bit. And exhaled, relaxing. He let his limbs move, his lungs draw oxygen, his vision open. The vision of a room around him. They were on a wooden bed, although the mattress wasn''t soft or nice. Everything had felt too rough, too firm, even the pillow under their heads. There was a lamp sitting on top of a desk nearby, flickering and vibrating erratically like a bomb waiting to explode or something like that. He wondered what could possibly happen inside this room. But nothing could happen. Nothing ever happens in here.


    How they both got here... Or were still here, wasn''t clear at all.


    If this was truly a dream, perhaps there were better settings for an experience like this, or so Guillerme hoped. If he woke up somewhere other than this, he''d be quite happy, no doubt. But... again, he was already with someone he might cherish dearly for centuries to come... no. He wouldn''t mind staying like this forever. But would she ever accept him and all that he was capable? That was impossible... for it was the impossible itself.


    Many doubts rushed his mind and mind alone. However, he didn''t dwell long. He leaned into the warmth of her bosom and closed his eyes once again. And so, his consciousness faded into slumber.


    K---cre...cccr-ecrr..ree...ecer....


    All in silence, he awaits with anticipation. The question is, will that noise stop anytime soon? He knew it won''t.


    Kkk----rrrr......e......cres-rc...ss....s......


    Sight and hearing... What was it about seeing her sleeping body in front of him that brought such peace to his mind, psyche and soul?


    Bzzzzzzzzz! BZZZZZZZZZZZ!!


    Incoherent noises and a bright light entered his world, consuming everything. The blackness, the stars and all... All consumed whole... Where was he...? His memories began to slip as he drifted along on the current of nothingness, engulfed in a whiteness without limit or end.


    She could still remember him. That one person. A strange man with nothing but two horns, four arms and an eerily familiar smile, but why couldn''t he remember her name? Did it truly matter, now that he was gone from her life for god knows how long? Why does her heart keep hurting even after everything''s over and done with? No answers ever came, for she only saw her life play out. As she sits in silence... the man; Guillerme, soundly asleep while his face nuzzled deep into her bosom.


    With another gentle kiss pressed against his temple, she quietly got up and walked slowly out and downstairs.


    Kkhhhr-hr-hr. HRRRR!


    His consciousness wasn''t awake yet, but a faint fluttering in his eyelids signaled it wouldn''t be long until then. For however long he was gone in his soul, he thought it''d be longer before his awakening occurred... Maybe... a few hours more? No, minutes at best? Maybe the one in control didn''t want anything to happen whilst he slept away in another person''s soul? Whatever the hell.


    He felt his consciousness beginning to rise, a sharp sensation overtaking his soul.


    Suddenly, he felt it being pushed down. Why? How?


    "Sucker!" Idalia''s voice echoed, screaming from deep inside. A voice like an angel, if one could compare. She spoke aloud in this world her brother himself had created in this very void of being.


    "I have this chance!" It screamed once again, clearly audible as Guillerme''s consciousness faded back into the soul, and Idalia rose to reality.


    The entire area grew dark. No light shone. Only shadows and the shadow of a shadow and a deeper shadow in this empty void. A void made just for him. It had become darker than the shadow beneath his feet, but perhaps he did not think so deep or further than the physical realm.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    As he finally felt a physical ground below him, signifying an exit, he stepped out. This new room wasn''t one he''d experienced previously, but it was a place he''d likely live his whole existence in before. Though he''d be a spirit for eternity and never age another second, albeit only physically.


    "You''re here again, brother." Distorted and hoarse, an eerie voice called out to Guillerme from nowhere. His expression became grim. It was Zabulus, but why specifically him? Did Zabulus hate him so much to have pulled him out from the comforts of his own warmth just to torture his brother? And who''s to say it was anything? A false, a fake? Nothing. A simple, measly nothingness, void of substance, but was still an existence, albeit unjustified, the hate was unjustifiable as much as a lack thereof.


    Idalia''s face was emotionless. As she awoke alone in an uncomfortable wooden bed, sheets tangled and twisted. The door stood slightly cracked open. Not exactly what it should''ve been, not even remotely, not in the slightest...


    What is time? A concept based upon our ability to distinguish whether the past, present and future exist as separate states. The present is the passage of time. The past is the memory of a series of occurrences and events, all leading to one moment in particular; the future, it is simply the abstract concept which exists when one ponders the idea of change, an outcome of sorts, be it a good thing or a bad thing. So then, is time really measured? Or simply perceived and interpreted by our minds as linear?


    These thoughts upon the childs mind brought upon the desire to learn and know the truth behind all that ever was or could be. This had been his goal from the day she was born, and never stopped. And as days turned into weeks and months, her knowledge continued to expand and increase, eventually coming to realize one day that a key to understanding such mysteries would never truly be known, regardless of any hard work she put in pursuit through the memories of millions or even billions.


    If it had taken years, years would it be? Maybe it took decades, or longer.


    Despite it all, she was still a child at heart. Maybe that was why she couldn''t learn anything, just like her youngest brother Zabulus.


    Even so, how does one learn something that has no substance? To do so is a meaningless, idle notion and an empty endeavour. It is nothing, the very same way an empty ocean is nothing, an infinite and boundless plain.


    ...What could be learned, no, not what can, not the information gained or obtained. Yet...


    If that which doesn''t exist can be imagined.


    No, if that which cannot exist can be imagined;


    Then one can also create or make something with the same meaning of ''what can''t exist'', with the very same concept, then yes, there''s the proof!


    "...Ugh..." Idalia woke up, realizing her body had begun to reek of sweat, thus causing the unpleasant odour and the sweatiness. As she got up, she took some moments to properly take in the invisible room around her, feeling it as well.


    After adjusting herself, the door, suddenly, opened wide on its own and led into a hallway, stretching endlessly, both to the left and the right sides, neither direction clear enough to determine its orientation or if it did end.


    Despite this, it appeared well lit; there weren''t any shadows at all. Was this some form of illusion? Did everything here just work in reverse? It had all been confusing and somewhat disappointing at first, but maybe she''ll figure everything out sooner or later.


    Well, she figured something at the moment: How long she had spent thinking of nothing, staring and pondering over these philosophical issues and concepts within her mind had passed; now it''s been a few seconds since waking. She had wasted time and thus, the hallway extended further as she stood watching, mesmerized.


    Although, she still needed to make a decision at some point or another.


    "Left. Right..." she spoke aloud. Neither sides had a sign that indicated anything new.


    The ends of the hallway distorted, waving around almost as though alive.


    But, as it twisted and swirled about, she couldn''t make out whatever was behind the hall''s entrance. Could it simply be a figment? Or would she just die at an instant?


    No, of course, this was surely the case. If this was indeed where everyone ended up, then there would definitely be someone here, anyone at the very least. No people to share with, or speak to and converse with, there isn''t even a possibility of it. And she had an idea. An idea of what could have happened, could possibly happen, was already happening and has been happening and has happened in this place. She must get out, immediately. Get away from here, before anything terrible happens to herself.


    Though that was impossible, for there was only a dead end beyond. No other paths available. This wasn''t a question anymore. Rather, more of a statement.


    One door; there was just one door in the waving halls that could lead to somewhere proper.


    So she stepped out, a scream suddenly echoing from below. She looked down to see that the wooden floor and saw that the ground contorted into a small face of something, she didn''t recognize it and did not try identifying it. She kept her calm composure as her legs began descending forward. She thought she would hit the wall ahead and so she braced herself, prepared for impact, though that didn''t happen and the sudden fall caused a panic and a reflexive reaction. She stretched her arms outwards in fear, grasping and grasping for support but nothing was there and instead grabbed on with her own hands the doorknob which held a circular windowpane right below its metal rim, directly beneath her.


    Sensing its movements, a creature formed behind her, watching, studying, taking notice. A wooden creature made of this cottage, wood all over its form, even for a mask that made up the face.


    It stood only seven feet tall, with tiny sticks for arms that seemed very fragile, unable to carry any heavy loads and needing assistance from other beings to complete tasks if it existed outside. It stood in the center of her vision as she turned around. A giant monster. But a weak creature with only two legs to hold it up off of its ground surface. It had two horns, which gave it the appearance of... oh, she noticed.


    The creature was copying the appearance of the body in front of it.


    Like a mirror reflecting an image back to its viewer, it followed suit with no hesitation, without blinking and moving its own appendages. Upon closer examination of its eyes, they were hollow inside. With darkness and an abyss behind them, it didn''t have a mind in them whatsoever.

 All The Unimaginables

    ''...The sun''s heat waves can melt stone, make it liquid, but stone is solid and unmalleable. Is that an irony?'' He thought.


    ''Nothing has to be ironic as you always say.''


    He was standing near his brothers body, but they weren''t alone. Vetro and Aeneus stood side by side. Guillerme tilted his head towards them both.


    "Both of you, why are you so strong willed?"


    Vetro, a frail, older man with a withered expression, black hair turning gray, skin wrinkling in folds, bones and teeth cracking in their jaws. But his hands... his hands were made of flesh. Flesh, it is a universal term for ''skin and organs'' usually the only ones to remain.


    Aeneus, a strong, younger man with a youthful face and short, wavy blond hair. Though he had eyes that were hollow. Somehow, their souls grew resistant to the occasional metamorphosis, so the two always are in their original body.


    A response, they did not speak, their expressions didn''t even change.


    But, he understood from the way they moved and reacted, the silence and silence, the stares and glances at each other, exchanging thoughts and ideas between one another, and as they both turned, facing and looking towards the ground of the sky above, where the grass flew about in a flurry of winds, and veins walked around on invisible staircases while the creatures below chanted in an ancient dialect.


    They turned to Guillerme and gave him a thumbs-up. It was meant as a thumbs up of confidence, to encourage their fellow comrades and companions.


    However, the action they did in his mind was of a different manner altogether. And perhaps this time it wasn''t only a show. Perhaps, maybe, he was going mad. The only thing certain was the fact of who stood by and sat close to him. There were dozens. Dozens of faces, each with differing appearances. They had no discernable emotions. Their gaze focused intently, boring holes into his skull. Those dozen faces, skulls, nervous systems and organs stared at each other with varying amounts of confusion or sadness, or pain in their souls, but no tears fell from any, or even a sound came forth. It was an all-encompassing silence.


    What went on here was an unspoken truth between everyone; it is a quiet agreement and agreement never spoken, but seen in their minds.


    Yet still. There are no signs of grief or distress displayed. How odd, everyone thought to themselves, as if their mind for once had grown a bit of a sense of emotion. Even more strange was the fact, of the people before him. Not a single person showed signs of acknowledgement. No movement, nothing was said. He hadn''t said a word, yet everyone stood. Was it because he was the first?


    .......


    The hallways didn''t appear the way it did before.


    The creature of unrequited love appeared before Idalia as if emerging from an inner hell, eyes of a sloth and the solitude of a snake. It would approach and stare intently, silently. It did not move swiftly nor slowly, and did not turn and shift away, as it would leave no imprint or trace. Its movements and presence would not remain long enough for anyone else to notice.


    Perhaps, this is why its love and its affections didn''t grow or continue; it wasn''t just physical and mental attraction. It also happened within the hearts and the mind, the soul and the flesh. Love can easily be perceived. And it can also be ignored, never acknowledged nor appreciated.


    What it takes for love to be unrequited is a lower bar of self-loathing, of course. And even this definition has several nuances depending on a given person.


    That should explain a few things: There are no mistakes nor do they occur, mistakes are in the wrong, incorrect actions, therefore being imperfect and useless, a defect, is nigh impossible.


    Thus, those who neglect love aren''t those who lack the qualities or attributes needed for it to prosper. Quite the opposite, actually; the reason why those that are so highly qualified for romantic endeavours get neglected is not due to their inability or lack of suitability, but the faulty nature of love itself. It is a poor choice when you think about it.


    If love were only a desire for happiness and companionship, rather than the reality that it entails many different feelings and experiences that have nothing whatsoever to do with one''s ability to feel anything beyond what''s necessary, it could''ve been a lot simpler. Unfortunately, when you''re feeling an emotion, it doesn''t really matter how that emotion gets expressed. Or expressed at all. One may think that emotions are completely divorced from reasoning and logic, but that''s far from the case.


    Emotions are largely based on perception and how we perceive certain stimuli as well as our understanding of those stimuli. A lot of people do this wrong. Because they don''t actually understand or see it for what it is. Love, romance or passion, or whatever you call it, all is merely chemical reactions in your brain, but all that also comes from having expectations. Those are the things we should be careful about. We must know what kind of emotional responses will occur if we are to accurately judge and measure our experiences. In this regard, love becomes easy to understand and manage because it falls under the purview of rational and scientific thinking rather than a place of emotion. And it doesn''t actually involve love either, but something like ''intimacy'' or ''attraction'', not that they are exactly the same.


    The rush of understanding in Idalia''s head as the creature of unrequited love stood in-front of her, waiting. What was it waiting for? She asked herself...


    Was it love? Did this being not understand that love was an emotion felt only by humanity? Or was it attempting to prove something? If the creature tried proving this fact to humans, and was given enough chances. If it managed to get them all to understand its point, would they even see it that way? As a thing to love?


    She laughed in its face, now she understood further.


    This creature... was the cottage, and it longed for a lover or two to live within it, so when they do it would usurp their body and feel their intimacy. Though it did not know, or rather, a lack of understanding that love is the warmth of a person''s skin on yours, and their hearts beating together as one. The closeness.


    But this creature wasn''t something of skin. It wasn''t something with a beating heart.


    It was merely a replica of what could be though of as a person, a replica of life, of humans, and most definitely a mockery to the love, or lack-thereof.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    This situation of Idalia and the creature of unrequited love happened at some distant memory, past and lost. Not too long after she met the creature, she simply told it the one thing that would destroy the idea and thought.


    It was too late, unfortunately. She told the creature everything; she told the cottage-being to forget it all. All the emotion and love, gone and lost, all to return home again.


    "You know..." She said to herself. "I was right. I thought so myself, after all I''m a young and intelligent child." She smiled. "This world is a dream. Or a memory, I suppose! Ahh... so many things to tell brother Zabulus today..." She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand in a cheeky way, giving the impression of an innocent little girl.


    The unimaginable. The thought in their heads, those thoughts, that they weren''t able to recall and reminisce about these particular memories were no longer accessible, just vague thoughts floating within, unprocessed and untouched, unheard or understood.


    With their actions and reactions, their purpose, meaning and value were null.


    The wooden creature of the hallways moved around and stirred, yet again, as it did many times, and repeated the same things over.


    ''Love me... please love me...'' it cried for the hundredth and millionth time since she left his soul. The creature would roam the halls. In her pursuit, chasing the idea, chasing her. To become human for a few moments... to feel a skin resembling hers...


    Yet... for all his ''hopes and dreams'', that day never came.


    ........


    "Do you see yourself when you fall in love?" Vetro inquired, walking alongside Aeneus down the fields of tall black grass that brushed against their lower halves as they strolled casually side by side.


    "Ah..." the man beside him, Aeneus, responded thoughtfully, clearly taking some time to think of an answer. But that time quickly passed. His head shook rapidly in reply. "Of all those women... the one that struck me the most was that skeletal lady who spoke of some rapture over and over. But, I''m not a man whose heart is easily moved. Perhaps, it was how strange she was that struck me as a bit intriguing. For whatever reason, she reminded me somewhat of the image of someone else I know, or used to know."


    "Hm? Like whom? Someone specific? Some past acquaintance, or is it someone currently residing with the group?" Vetro asked curiously.


    Aeneus mused silently for a brief moment, "Probably one of the sisters who are going around telling others about themselves... Yeah... That makes the most sense."


    The way the grass swayed in a breeze was odd. Vetro found that he was somewhat confused at the concept of the atmosphere and its sudden change in texture and surroundings. Walking on the grass he felt like something''s coming through, or there was someone pushing him with each step forward. Was it a soul?


    The thought suddenly dawned upon Aeneus'' head, and he realized it wasn''t just his imagination but rather an actual event occurring, "Someone is here." His gaze turning toward Guillerme, gazing fixed and stern into the direction of a distant silhouette on the hilltops nearby, while in contrast Guillerme still hadn''t shown a single ounce of visible emotion in regards.


    "What are you two doing here? For all you know, a memory at the moment could be leaking, and Zabulus'' energy would likely grow."


    "Says the one who caused the leak in the first place." Aeneus shrugged it off, shaking his head.


    "Listen, I''m just trying to give everyone some excersize, otherwise their souls would grow weak and vanish into him, you know?"


    "How do you know that?" Vetro inquired.


    "Because I''ve seen it happen! This soul has been overflown by other souls due to what he did... don''t you think he knew what he was doing? Don''t tell me, you didn''t do this all intentionally, correct?"


    "....I... suppose," Aeneus said hesitantly, unsure, as if contemplating his decision making process beforehand. Guillerme fell silent as his hands clutched onto his sides.


    He sighed, his breathing hitching a bit, but his voice strained through, and then without looking up to either of their gazes or expression, he asked them again:


    "Who''s here?"


    There was no response for what seemed like an eternity.


    Though, the situation wasn''t going to be as bad as he thought. The one who appeared was none other than Idalia herself. The middle child, the wisest, the eldest who cared deeply about the lives that were created around her. If there was one thing Idalia was, was compassionate and gentle, and loving and kind, but also a little cruel. She was more of a fiend of knowledge, an intellectual, rather than one to act as a friend, or to understand what her actions meant. So when she acted normally, one would only wonder about the rationality behind each decision or each decision itself, it had been said she''d keep all of this in mind and take whatever actions necessary when needed.


    However, that was all talk from the souls that had met her, whether it was true or not, or only exaggerated, who''s to say? Though there had been only one instance of her being rude or ignorant to a person she met. It was not until later she realized she might have done something inappropriate.


    She wasn''t exactly adept at being an emotional person, so this was perhaps her reason for acting in an abhorrent way toward those few people around her and others she called friends. Even then, she couldn''t consider many a friend, but rather a peer, at most.


    "What are you doing here now?" Guillerme said in a cheerful tone as he kneeled down to be on level with Idalia.


    "Brother! I found this creature, right...? And... it..." her voice faltered as she looked away from Guillerme, focusing upon Vetro. She shook her head, looking up. "It wants something."


    Aeneus scoffed, "Is it really the time to play with a child?"


    "Come on man," Said Vetro, "Let him have his time, it''s his sister."


    "It wants- I mean, it wanted something from me! And... I told it some really bad things so it left... because... uhhh.. I don''t know? Haha..." She covered her eyes with her hand, making it appear like she didn''t really understand and had to pause between sentences.


    It sounded like she was making this story up, it must have been true, considering who her family is, though.


    "Really? It''s okay, as long as you feel sorry, right?"


    "Yeah! I do!" She said cheerfully as she hugged her brother, while sticking her tongue out at Aeneus. Aeneus scowled back.


    It was at that point when she knew he saw her and heard her, a realization washed over her and the happiness quickly faded. Tears filled in her eyes as the light seemed dimmer, yet darker in shade as if a shadow casted overhead.


    She cried for an act. "Brother!!! Butt is bullying me!!!"


    Aeneus turned and left with a frown.


    He sighed, "Ugh, don''t let her fool you. She''s a grown-up who acts like a little kid, and only knows what she knows!"


    Guillerme said with a certain... anger to his voice, in reply to Aeneus, as if an imaginary vein popped on his forehead, "Have more respect you dipshit, she''s my sister! I raised her, and besides, she''s very bright and you know it."


    "Whatever. Hey, Zabulus," Aeneus pointed his finger towards the direction. "I can feel it. You''re here too!"


    "Ah... well, suppose I couldn''t hide for long." The fifth voice of the group now appeared behind them all.


    Vetro wanted to back out but... Zabulus was directly behind him. Idalia ran up to him for a hug, and he picked her up and set her atop a stone pillar on a small rock formation, the perfect height for a young girl.


    "You haven''t changed a bit, Zabulus." She commented, almost out of character for what is seemingly a child.


    "Aeneus''s words were right... she''s a cunning one..."


    Though what they didn''t notice, only Zabulus, was her ever-shifting appearance and presence. At times, she appears as an older, taller person, but the majority of the time, it is as a young girl. She always retained her natural eye color, however. But what caught his attention was how each time he turned his head, her physical attributes shifted between both age groups. Was it a literal transformation? Or a trick of the mind, like many others?

 All That is To Know

    Vetro stared silently up towards Idalia, wondering if she was even alive. Surely, she has been alive and functioning, she looked younger but not childish in appearance or body, which was quite strange even for a person of her own blood. Vetro stepped closer and lifted his hand. For whatever reason he did so, it got a reaction out of Idalia, who told him, "Don''t you remember the third time we met? You did the exact same thing, what do you want?"


    Vetro took in her words. And her question rang out again, "What is it, gramps? Do you want to speak?" Her voice became slightly distorted, just like that... she changed into an older woman''s voice, despite the age difference in her looks, and how much she seemed like an adolescent.


    Vetro stuttered at the suddenness. Was he hearing and seeing correctly? This sight alone was making him queasy and wanting to vomit out his nonexistent innards, though he didn''t know why the sight made him so... sick, and repulsed. His gut turned, and he swore he could have tasted his own flesh.


    He tried looking at the others around but Aeneus, Guillerme and Zabulus were engaged in what seemed to be a heated argument. So no one else was ''affected'' by this.


    A form of knowledge rushed into Vetro''s mind as he looked back at the now adult woman, aged 28 at best, judging by how she seemed like a normal woman instead of an ungainly adolescent or a feeble, wiry little girl. He didn''t bother saying any words. Rather, he couldn''t, as his mind was rushed with other thoughts... of questions.


    Well, first of all, what does it mean to be conscious, a subjective term that has eluded mankind for quite some time? Could it perhaps mean being aware, or an understanding? Possessing the awareness of a body that isn''t yours? If so, what does it mean to ''exist'' as another entity? Well, this could be only explained in one of two ways.


    The first is simple, to exist as one whole. Every part working, each joint connected and everything functional. But if there''s another version of the same body, then does that body exist? It doesn''t exist and cease to exist at the exact same time, therefore this logic leads us to another way of understanding: That we exist in several forms simultaneously.


    Does this mean all bodies are connected and part of a greater whole? Well, yes. However, what does it really entail? Where''s this ''invisible'' body of ours, that dictates where exactly we''re positioned and where are the boundaries between individuals? Why do some people exist in places with higher or lower levels of existence and other factors that might hinder their body''s ability to function properly?


    The answer alone eludes knowledge itself. Perhaps the answer is found within Wisdom. Maybe in Philosophy, or maybe even Science... who''s to know...


    Idalia looked down upon Vetro, realizing his troubles, she made sure to continue.


    "Zabulus has lived with his whole existence just to get more and more of these souls, I hope you know. So If you''re going to hinder my brother''s progress, then please, feel free to share some of my burden. Catch me before my fall, okay?" She giggled.


    ''She''s just like... him...''


    "What was that?" Idalia said, before giggling again.


    "Uh?" Vetro''s eyes snapped open and met hers directly in the gaze. It made him feel awkward but, well...


    "...Uhh... Uhhhh..." ''Can she read thoughts? She''s probably making a game out of messing with me right now...''


    But nothing was audible or spoken. Vetro glanced around at the others behind him, as his mind was telling him to move or get the hell out of the way of danger, but there was no visible hazard to see, and all movement seemed halted at a stand-still.


    Nothing happened yet it felt like something might happen soon.


    ''No. Just tell us already. I''m not amused and you''re wasting time!''


    Idalia only gave a ''Hmph!'' as she kept her head forward towards the discussion ongoing.


    "...He can hear your voice." she mumbled, but Guillerme must have caught her word and gave her a glare. "We''ll deal with that later."


    After the surreal display of seeing a more-or-less serious Idalia, she went back to her happy-go-lucky demeanor, just like when her brother, and the other 3 first met her. Her expression now contorting into a smile, and even letting out a soft laughter from her chest as if finding a good joke.


    As a child would do, she ran around chasing a butterfly made of veins. She had grabbed it, or thought she did. When she reached out with both hands and pulled. Yet, the insect went along with her. She squealed with glee. "That''s an evil one, brother, please kill it!"


    Both Guillerme and Zabulus reacted to her words, as if two protective brothers who wished to save their beloved sibling''s happiness, the both of them rushed towards the vein butterfly, but the second they went in, it flew high above and away from their reach. Idalia sighed, "Oh... it got away....." she whimpered, her mood dampened by the anticlimactic ending. Zabulus crouched next to his sister, pissing off Guillerme as he stole his chance to do the same.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Hmm. Sister, did I tell you the story of a boy who fell off a tree and died? Does that sound like a fun story to you?"


    "Yeah! I wanna hear about it!" She smiled eagerly.


    Vetro remained quiet, observing the siblings'' relationship with each other, still a little perplexed by this situation, and yet it made sense. As if he kept under a spell, or was merely daydreaming this entire conversation with them, then, the words just started spewing from his lips;


    "I..."


    A voice interrupted him.


    "...Bonds are important things. So, remember this story well." Guillerme told Vetro as he stood to his side.


    Zabulus spoke the tale, thus...


    "There is no memory in his life. No light. Only pain. The boy cannot tell what the pain is; the memories are so clouded and distant, though his fear is overwhelmingly present in his soul. He woke up... not knowing who he was nor where he was, but the only thing he saw, besides the grassy plain he was in... was a tree. A singular tree. The tree then spoke to the boy, it said, ''I am the only one here.''"


    The boy replied with, ''Where''s the rest of the trees?'' The tree laughed and continued.


    ''Look around. There are no others here, child. You have been abandoned by all, but I, the lone tree.'' The tree said. It told him this was no longer Earth. Though the boy couldn''t remember what the name meant... and wasn''t sure if he had ever heard of the name Earth, even in a distant dream. ''Here, climb up this trunk, it''ll take you to heaven itself!'' The tree exclaimed joyfully with its limbs and branches extending out and reaching for the boy.


    "But... won''t I get hurt?" The child asked, hesitant at first. "What if... what if I fell?"


    ''.......''s ''s ''s...'' The tree said.


    "Okay... if you say so..." the child reluctantly grabbed onto the tree, a hand on each branch and made his way up and climbed slowly. Step by step, never looking back... only forward at the top...


    It would take him to Heaven, right...? He thought.


    ''..........s.......s...........s'' The tree spoke unusually loud, unimaginable words.


    "What...?" The boy asked, confused.


    ''...........s...................s'' The tree slowed down in its ascent to the heavens above, and the branches then quickly retreated back into its bark.


    ''Ah?''


    A cold chill went up the boys'' spine. And at the same time, the entire earth started shaking violently underneath. A flash of crimson engulfed the earth, tainting the tree with a blood so new, so red... so... strange.


    It found peace in his innards.


    "And that... is the short story of the boy who fell off a tree and died... directed by yours truly!"


    "Dah... but the blood was really disgusting looking, brother." she giggled, "But I really really really liked the story! Please tell me another one!"


    "One moment, one moment. I have something important to speak to my older brother about."


    The both of them faced Guillerme as they stood a few steps back from the rest, not exactly trying to hide the exchange but just so it wouldn''t draw too much attention.


    "Listen, yeah? Keep her entertained for the while I''m going to be gone for a while."


    "What do you mean? You''re going to take control again? Have I finally become less important now?" Guillerme practically sneered as he said that, which, considering he had a face of only skin without lips, he couldn''t properly frown but somehow... he managed to convey such emotions through those words.


    "Calm the fuck down, shithead. Idalia''s your sister too, as much as you care about her, I care even more."


    "Is that the truth or just a facade like you, to act cool and like you''ve got everything together?"


    "The fuck do you know about me, Guil? You spend all your time in here doing jack-shit all day, I''m surprised you didn''t turn into a rotting pile spirit dust or whatever. Good thing the world doesn''t work the way reality works, otherwise, this entire fucking scenario would have collapsed in on itself a long time ago."


    .....


    Alice found herself tending to Laz and his current condition. He hasn''t been moving for a week, yet no one could explain why he wasn''t dead or at least a little more alive and mobile.


    Except for one, as much as it felt obvious, she still wanted to deny it.


    "Why hello there, ...A...Alice?" He tried to recall her name, though frankly, he had so many memories to sift through that he just struggled at the moment to properly adapt to it all.


    "Oh, it''s you, Zabulus. Finally done with your whole ''dramatic monologue'' routine, or, do I even need to ask, is there a proper method to this? God, and you also need to be able to pick better on who controls your god damn body, last guy almost had me lose my mind and eat him. And I do not want to end up in that body of yours whatsoever." She was helping Laz sit down as he was in a practically veiled vegetative state, he was basically comatose in a manner and shape of a log, unmoving, not quite there. Alice brought food and water up from downstairs, setting a bottle of spring water to the side for now and a baguette of bread in his lap. "And please, can you do something about him? You know just how much he means to me... and... to part of you, even! Just, snap him back to reality or... give him a memory or two, even? Just anything, please. The silence is getting too deafening, even for you..." she quietly placed his piece of bread on the table, and was halfway through finishing her plea before he realized she was still speaking.


    For a time, he felt pitiful, so he replied, "Okay, but on one condition." He pointed one finger at her.


    "Which is...?" She waited with a creeping feeling in her stomach.


    "You will cannibalize whoever I order you to cannibalize, got it?"


    Alice seemed unphased by his proposal, almost as if she expected it. In fact, she nodded along. "I will try and try my very best... to let out the urge, sir. But, will we start, shall we?" Her expression didn''t shift or change a single bit, she was quite good at hiding her feelings nowadays, he thought to himself. He mentally smiled.


    Alice seemed unphased. He nodded. Then began.


    He placed his head on his forehead, giving a part of his memory back... in a way that allowed him to function less as a doll and more like a puppet or even more so like himself. The momentary silence didn''t bother him, nor did any outside sound that made itself heard during that time. It was a nice scene, for an outsider to see. As if the three of them were as the way they looked when they first met. It didn''t feel like an illusion. Or at least, that''s how it was, because his mind didn''t have a voice inside the echo chambers or thoughts in his head, and maybe that''s just his own thinking process and just not how reality worked.

 Eating a Town of 192!

    Fresh air strewn about the town, as usual, there were lots of people around as there normally are and that wouldn''t change in the slightest. Everyone seemed normal, as always, not like they had any concerns with the unusual. This place always brought upon a sense of tranquility and peace, especially when there was so much noise that tranquilized their thoughts of uncertainty or negativity.


    Alice, Laz and Zabulus walked about, being a group that stood out the most, and avoided the most.


    One, a blonde girl with long blonde hair and a blue dress. Two, an old man in a camouflage jacket with white hair and a beard. Finally, an eyeless, two horned, 4 forearmed dark humanoid wearing a white hood, stupidly making himself stand out more.


    They passed through without much thought from their minds. It wasn''t going to be a busy day. Nothing was happening except for the occasional questions, statements, and conversations they had while traveling through the streets.


    A short, decrepit looking elderly lady walked up to Zabulus, staring directly into his non-existing eyes.


    Fear? Was this what Zabulus felt?


    A memory flashed through his head.


    All the way back in his construct... the first person he''d met... the dying star that he had... become.


    Zabulus'' legs stiffened, his jaw clenched, teeth ground as hard as they could in their bone-white prison.


    This sudden encounter terrified him enough that he needed time and space. The first person who spoke to him, had him almost frozen and his heart about to burst from the fear and anxiety.


    The old woman opened her mouth wide. "Are you some sort of monster? Ha-Ha-Ha..."


    And without a second word, he replied, "No."


    A flood of recollections passed through Zabulus, it must have taken less than a millisecond, yet it was enough for him.


    It all clicked into place in Zabulus'' mind, and he quickly turned around and walked the other way, before Alice dragged Laz with her behind him.


    "Alice." His hood covering his upper face completely, obscuring whatever his facial features were. Alice raised a brow.


    "That, do you recognize the face, I just did?"


    She shook her head, shrugging, "Nope... Never seen before."


    "Well, eat her."


    "What?!" She raised her voice, then kept it down. "What do you mean... that''s... an elderly woman...!...What about her?!..."


    Zabulus looked back for a brief instant before walking off and taking a few steps forward.


    She reached for him, and then, instead, her arm stretched far beyond any logical boundaries and snatched him. "Are you out of your mind...?"


    "Don''t forget our deal. You don''t kill who I ask you to kill, his mind goes down the gutter. Got it? If there''s an emergency, eat the person, got it?!"


    Her tongue rubbed against the walls of her mouth, making a smack sound. "Alright..." As she looked at the short elderly woman who was now walking away slowly, blissfully ignorant of what was about to happen to her, she mumbled a breathy "I''m sorry."


    Her hunger, in less than a second got the best of her, she was filled with an odd feeling and couldn''t understand where she was anymore. Yet she knew deep inside she''d love to try eating this particular individual, as that person reminded her of something. She didn''t think it was possible.


    The sudden change in her attitude convinced Zabulus of one thing, that regardless of her acts of love towards Guillerme, she was still the one he met in the beginning. A simple entity who took everything lightly and even carried on laughing even in dire situations.


    Who knew? That one could so easily revert back to being an ape in nature in the span of a single meal, while the rest of her personality continued to go on and adapt accordingly. It made him realize. Not one moment was dull. Especially since the world itself would keep on changing its layout and design without warning, at least until he dies and his body shuts down, therefore, shutting off the entire world.


    Without a warning,


    In her mind,


    Time did not flow.


    Though she thought otherwise, and remembered the sun moved in its trajectory and it rose in the east while it set in the west and that was a fact, even she couldn''t refute.


    So for the sun rising, she had to make it set. The moon came into existence instead, as its yellow orb was painted black, the tides crashed in their movements. Then in response to her will, the world became pitch-black, save for the area around the sun''s ray. The elderly lady was turned into a mush of flesh and meat as if its bones were made of butter and she melted upon Alice''s first bite, swallowing chunks as big as golf balls down her throat with every gulp.


    She giggled,


    She couldn''t stop it, as she dug her arms into the belly and pulled out its insides as if taking apart a ragdoll of skin and organs. "Heh... haha..." Manic, twisted laughter filled the empty void that replaced the sky above, and within a snap.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Life.


    Gone.


    Bystanders watched horrified, while others covered their mouths. A few walked away. Only some, a handful really stayed and saw. Others fled and ran to tell of the ''gross'' sight they had witnessed, while still others shut themselves indoors and locked their windows and doors in horror of what was being seen and did not want it to come to them. The ones who watched, did as they heard of the tales of the Glutton. That Glutton was now with them, who''s hungry enough to eat anyone, to eat an entire town. Who''d kill even if they were given food. They didn''t stay silent, not like they could anyways, for the Glutton had her ears perked up.


    One of them, the bystanders, said: "You mustn''t have lived in the countryside of this world, huh? Haven''t heard of the monster they call the ''Glutton''. Well, you see her now! A pretty lady who is as despicable as the men next to her... they say that whoever gets in contact with her is a goner, just like this old hag that made a pass at that scary looking tall figure you''ve noticed." He nudged one of them with his shoulder. "Yeah, I was scared too! But god... she''s too beautiful for what she''s doing... maybe we should kill that guy and take her into our arms, hah..." They joked together under their breath, thinking it was inaudible to her ear.


    ''What a fucking clich¨¦.'' Zabulus commented. ''They act like just about any random schmuck who can''t decide which pretty woman to lust after, and the world is practically your playground. Don''t you have something better to do than be like these people?''


    "That''s really ironic coming from the one whose emotions run hot the most," she laughed.


    A man in the crowd, stood terrified as he saw the cadaver of what was once his elderly aunt, whose neck had been snapped and torso ripped from its limb sockets. Her intestines were pouring onto the streets. As an effect, he was growing pale, but his eyes were getting wider as walked closer to her and Alice.


    "Ah-uh-AUNTIE!" he yelped, running his hand through his messy blond hair, and tripping and landing into the dirt and snow beneath him. His breathing slowed down, as he could not comprehend why it happened or how it could possibly have occurred. The blood was running cold from his fingers while his body shivered uncontrollably, as he was processing the thought, but couldn''t make a coherent statement on it. He thought to himself ''She was only old and sick, why? Why, is she dead...'' and when he maybe figured out why, a strange sensation built up within his brain, a headache. It came soon, so intense, the pounding began and pain shot into the back of his skull.


    Alice opened her mouth and took a bite of his neck, snapping the bone and cracking the spinal cord.


    ''More. You know that was less than an hour.''


    She wiped her lips of the blood, "Mm..." a sound like a moan, with each munch on the corpse she couldn''t help herself from sucking it dry and ripping chunks off his limbs to consume.


    But what she was most annoyed by wasn''t the screams, the hysteria in their voices, or the faces of terror plastered on their countenances, no. It was the ones betting on how she''d eat.


    ''A shame you all seem to have given up your humanity the moment you were born, to never change.''


    With a forceful jerk, the remainder of the man was eaten in its entirety, though a hand slipped between her teeth as she tore open his ribs and digested it with little trouble.


    A bite of an apple is akin to killing a person, is it not?


    As the sweet taste of iron filled her, her body shuddered with bliss, each cell in her body thrilled by the feast laid before them. Blood dripped down her face, the bloodstains covering almost her entire body like a suit or jacket that covered everything including the stains on her clothes. She grew even hungrier. Losing parts of her mind, she lunged at another horned man. Unmistakably, this was not Zabulus, but someone else of his kind. Her feet on his shoulders and hands grabbing his horns, she chomped down on his head. And within seconds, the lower half of his body was bitten away. A feast that never seemed to satisfy her as the carnivore that she was. As if they were food or cattle, merely animals waiting for slaughter.


    She looked down at the three bodies getting covered by snow, before hearing screams and watching a young woman running in her direction, the woman held a knife, a piece of her long, green dress wrapped around the blade of the dagger. She thrust her weapon and landed a hit on the victim''s shoulder. Yet it wasn''t enough, her right shoulder was punctured, but not so severely. Alice shrugged it off and forcefully removed the knife from its wound. As the dagger had left the gash it made, blood came flowing down from the open cut, running down her right arm.


    The woman stood terrified in front of her failed attempt to kill the Glutton, the green-dressed attacker''s pale cheeks flushed as red as the blood drenching Alice''s arm and clothes.


    Her opponent fell to the ground, kneeling, begging for a reprieve and the slightest chance to escape alive... Alice however, kneeled down and gave the woman an expression of a sympathetic understanding, reaching her hand out to caress the woman''s cheeks.


    ''Don''t comfort the enemy. She needs a good lesson, or is that compassion that''s guiding your moves?''


    ''She reminds me of him. Of the love you have for a person, Zabulus, wouldn''t you think so too? She likely lost someone very dear to her, and that is her own reason, though her decision is perhaps the worst and only one she had.'' they both spoke to each other from afar. Although how they did, was unclear. But they both understood one another.


    In the next moment, the skin on the woman''s face was flayed off by Alice''s fingernails, leaving her muscles exposed. Blood oozed from her right eye socket, a liquid red tear trickling from its corners down her face. The Glutton slowly moved the gushing, ripped open flesh off the right cheek of her victim, biting into the meat like an apple. Then, she gouged both her eyes out and chewed on them, liquid spraying everywhere like fireworks or firecrackers. Her brain was crushed into nothing as the eyes were squished, giving her the taste of sweetness.


    Sucking the flesh from the severed scalp, she sank her teeth into the remains of the frontal lobe. Giving a high pitched squeal as she lapped it up. Blood and cranial fluid gushing through the woman''s opened and flattened nasal cavity.


    "Aaa- gguuuu...." the woman moaned, as she suffered through a painful, agonizing death.


    "Unhhh.... I... I''m s- so so sorry... !" she said, tears and sweat, combined together, trickling from the corners of her remaining eyes, slipping past the fountaining fluids dripping from her head.


    And thus, the 5th victim was killed off.


    After seeing so many beheadings and mutilation, she simply waited patiently for the rest of them to gather a bit more. She sat on the spot and waited, sitting there, immobile and emotionless...


    A few men and women surrounded her, all eager to grab a bit of her to make her theirs and own them in return for something. Some had already figured out that they should go hide in their homes, some kept their guard up as they watched fearfully and curiously from far away.


    ''Do as you will, Alice.''


    Without delay, Alice nodded as she rushed forth, snatching the first nearest being in the group and biting into it as though it were nothing but an innocent and carefree infant. Three people at once, their tracheas and larynxes were shredded open, spraying all the salty, savory blood up and into her waiting, hungry mouth. The taste was delicious and exciting in a manner one would have expected to find from her. The count of victims was now 8.


    It would have been impossible, if it weren''t for the strength she gained from her hunger. Her black hole of a stomach, her emptiness of a being, she craved. There was no stopping her now... She was consumed by hunger, gluttony, and greed. So it made sense. In some ways she''d keep devouring until it reached her own limit, to die from satiation of the overabundant flesh.

 Snacktime!

    8 dead souls, in the matter of a single minute.


    Twirling her hair around her finger, humming and skipping with every step towards her goal of gorging the flesh and eating their hearts out.


    This time, she went slower-paced as ordered. Each limb she detached and tore off were each seen like a miniature statue of the whole human anatomy. To her, it was all a delicacy to enjoy. One which she knew was delectable as it had the same tastes as before.


    Though, there were some exceptions in the manner of what kind of taste was used and how it was done.


    With ease she cracked a spine, removing all 33 vertebrae with a pop. Her least favorite aspect of the body to eat was the ribs and sternum, the sharpness of the ribs made it difficult for her mouth to handle. At the same time, the toughness of the sternum made it a hassle to take a bite and remove a chunk of it. In general, bones to her were more of a thing to hold on to rather than devour and digest the marrow as part of her ''usual diet''.


    Still, as long as it''s in her body, her mouth has absorbed and ingested it, as nothing''s stopping her from enjoying the taste and flavors of its tissues. She sat down on the snowy street. For all she cared, the citizens could come and kill her right now, but her meal is her main priority, so she would deal with any threats if the time arises.


    Once the vertebrae and spine are out of the way, removing the sternum is much simpler. Once again, with the ease, her hand grasped onto it with two fingers and ripped out a slab of flesh from the upper portion, with an audible crunching noise that felt almost... delightful. After she swallowed a hunk, her body shuddered, her knees buckled as a surge of excitement coursed through her veins, it seemed like a whole new sensation that she felt like tasting more of.


    Before she could continue her feast however, ''Listen, you ought to go eat the rest of these bastards that are watching. I''d rather not have anyone watching this sort of thing happen. Like a persons audience observing an intimate, embarrassing moment of the girl he likes masturbating. But, what you have and are doing is basically the same as an incestuous sex act, not that it bothers me, I just don''t want to have your thoughts corrupted with such imagery, though you seem fine at the moment. Go do some hunting, that''ll excite you more.'' Zabulus said.


    As if a feral, wild beast, she leaped on the closest man nearby who still hid away in the dark. Pouncing on his chest, her jaw ripped open his flesh from throat to abdomen. Then Jejunum and ileum split from their host''s anterior to his abdomen and she wretched with glee.


    Her hands forced themselves into the remains, tearing out his stomach, gutting the unfortunate bastard''s torso with a disgusting, squelching sound that rang out loud and clear in his dying ears.


    Blood covered her pale face like warpaint, her nose taking in the intoxicating stench of a human carcass. Again, and again and again she ravaged him, slashing and slicing away, his liver and gall bladder becoming mush with her every move.


    Without a moment to waste, Alice leaned in towards the cadaver and started the dissection process, holding the large intestine in her right hand, and cutting it into small pieces, filling her mouth with the now liquified intestine and gobbling it down, which was followed by a satisfied burp and a large exhale.


    Munch.


    Slurp.


    Chomp, Crunch.


    Huuuulch.


    Gnarl, Bite, Slither.


    She looked like a disgusting little beast devouring her meal, looking as vile and malicious as ever, especially with a background of a dark street. No words needed to be spoken, she understood the necessity of slowing down the pace, and being more meticulous as well, but was it the time? Not at all.


    A burning memory. Her father''s love. They filled her body and soul. In spite, in hate, yet in love. Her emotions changed.


    Tear and cut,


    Their organs ripped,


    Vital fluid washes over her,


    Their essence was a blessing.


    Half the crowd, now gone. 27 bodies on the floor, with a puddle of red coating the floor. This made it easy for Alice to navigate the area, while not having to step in the fresh crimson blood and puddles.


    A leg was ripped off, her claws clawed into the quadricep muscles'' skin, shredding away its membrane as she slowly pulled its flesh off with her teeth, tearing them up and into pieces and ripping them away with her hands. It seemed to taste the same regardless. Even if her claws or hands were bloody, that didn''t hinder or halt her appetite. Rather, the taste and scent only made her hunger grow, the bottomless pit of an endless glutton growing greater and deeper in desire, wanting to swallow everything whole in order to feed it and fill the hole of desire.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    It didn''t taste like steak or even pork, it had a less acidic and foul odor. If it had a comparable taste, she''d compare it to a full stomach after gorging upon 12 rotting corpses that were stuffed with maggots, having eaten her body weight in 84 kilograms worth of their flesh and organs and leaving their guts to spill upon the ground with a flood. The most satisfying meal she''s ever eaten, the ecstasy. It brought her euphoria as nothing else does, the sensation of bliss upon each morsel.


    .....


    Guillerme caught wind of her sudden rampage, but still, he did nothing to halt its progress, rather, he sat and watched as the one he might have, or might have not loved, went insane with bloodlust, devouring the bodies with great speed and gore. If Zabulus''s words were to be believed, Alice could barely control her insanity-driven hunger. And if Zabulus were to believe the words of her madness-driven voice that came from him and his shared headspace, her lack of sanity has finally taken a toll and deteriorated any sane notion. Now, he cannot help or save her.


    "If you cannot rescue her, then I''m left with only one option..." he spoke to no one in particular. It was obvious and no one knew what the correct answer was, or even how to stop it, he added, "You know I''m trying my best, I have never attempted or thought of trying to salvage my soul," He said, this time to Aeneus. He replied without a moment of doubt.


    "Bullshit, if anything, I''d wager that you have plenty of time to save your dear ''lover'', yet you decide that I need more practice and to work hard or whatever other motivational phrase is that in common use these days. What was it? That ''One Day, at a Time'' quote?"


    Guillerme rolled his eyes as Aeneus kept talking, ignoring Guillerme''s groan of frustration on why he said such a thing, "Right now, your focus is obviously elsewhere. But what we need to do, is fucking stop this shit from happening before Alice becomes the same as that Laz guy!" He roared, as if saying those last words held some meaning or perhaps some nostalgia and significance he had forgotten.


    In response, a dull, wooden smile appeared on Aeneus'' Skull, which made him smile in a twisted, creepy way back at him, a perfect example of someone who looked like he had never even slept one day in their entire existence. The darkness under his eye sockets seemed to enlarge and hollow even further out, creating a ''light'' shade of darkness.


    "Listen closely, there is no reason to panic. In the end, you can always undo her damage and ''restore'' the situation back to normal." His deep, eerie and deadpan expression not wavering for a second.


    "What the fuck...?" Guillerme stared at Aeneus, who was now completely dried up. His hair turning grey, his grey hair turning white, and the skin getting wrinkled again and sagging as if the bones and muscles underneath became too weak and useless for him. His right eye, seemingly drooping half-shut like someone suffering from a stroke. His tone getting darker by the second, sounding a tad bit confused as his voice hitched from his laughter and screams at the sight of a grown woman being eaten by another grown woman and losing her life in such a way.


    "I just remembered one of those little stories... you know..." Aeneus said, "You once told me about... the story of the mother and the child? How she sacrificed herself to save her daughter, yet in reality... she died in vain because the daughter didn''t save herself... it is a peculiar tale..." his eyes became a hollow nothingness... only darkness. He looked away, laughing at how odd that story was, but how true it was to the lives of the other victims, "Isn''t it interesting how the hero, who''s supposed to protect us, doesn''t have the capability to even recognize an enemy that is as blatantly obvious as this monster... What the fuck kind of world did he live in... yeah?"


    That was when Guillerme realized.


    And Aeneus continued speaking, with a strained voice "...And! The hero..." He groaned in agony from the mere act of talking. His whole body was tensing up with fear and tension from speaking. "...even if he saw evil and wanted to defeat it... he didn''t know how... just like you...!" He shouted.


    Aeneus stopped in his tracks at the very last word, with his feet moving for the very first time since he appeared, not really making a conscious decision to move as such but out of his own accord, he couldn''t think for himself and moved automatically, just like the ones of the cult. Just like... Laz.


    "A... Zabulus? What have you done?!"


    "Hehehe... this is for my own good, isn''t it brother...? Can''t say I''ll keep my word, can I?" Zabulus looked in front of himself, smirking. His voice seemed different somehow... "You see... this little guys soul had already begun wavering the moment I usurped him... superseding and subsuming his soul to mine was fairly easy actually... I just had to claim ownership and control over the bits of my own soul within you and rip myself free of your flesh."


    "This- No, you can''t, it doesn''t make any sense! Just why would you-?!"


    "Because I felt like it." A grin grew wider, and wider across his face as he cut his flesh, blood spraying everywhere like a fountain.


    The carnage continued. His skull cracked into pieces.


    Aeneus'' metaphysical body had thus disintegrated completely and ceased to exist. He did not stop Zabulus or stop this occurrence in any way whatsoever. Zabulus was entirely free to act now, since Guillerme knew, deep down, that if he were to attempt to fight him directly, then he''d cease to exist the same way.


    .....


    192 dead, 0 survivors, or... at least, that''s the initial headcount.


    Those of his ilk are particularly susceptible to the cold. Not that he cares, or he thinks of them, anymore, rather, he just happens to know, and guesses how this might affect his victims, the creatures who could survive below the earths surface where their presence is no longer detectable or traceable by other races. Those who eat and cannibalize others of their kind and family and tribe. The ones who hide away behind masks and lie to keep them safe and secure. Those who''ve died out but exist only in legend or history... those...


    Too many to name. But none besides one who is truly a part of him, can stand so strong, or brave his trials, nor survive his wrath. Only Alice could be her true self. The only being in the entire world, perhaps, capable of such a feat.

 Bonus Chapter 20.1: Shitty Singer, Shitty Song

    A song rang out to their ears, hearing enhanced by his presence. And as the song''s lyrics and melody got clearer the closer they were,


    "Even a ghost with a haunting face


    Dies a slow, bitter death in a graveyard,


    Bygone days come and go.


    Invisible creatures run from his path."


    Even Vetro''s voice carried a tune he remembered faintly, a part of his past life long gone.


    "...Love comes to it like a songbird in a nest with a snake and her baby... but their beauty has always been a curse...!"


    His words.


    Vetro could sing... shoddily, at best.


    "God, could you STOP singing for once!? I get that this place is boring but... please, try not to add to it!!!" Idalia was completely unphased by his new habit of belting out that little melody he repeated. Though, the fact he repeated this tune the same amount of times as it is lyrics in his current poem bothered her greatly, because there was nothing else to do as of this day.


    "Ohhh, man.... That sucks, I guess this is too good, even for you."


    Vetro mumbled under his breath the sound of something similar to a moan or groan, trying to drown the noise of Idalia''s voice and ear-shattering whine as it stabbed the back of his cranium, causing an uncomfortable tightness on both sides. His voice sounded hollow and devoid of any sort of meaning, a dismal attempt to explain the feeling.


    "But the show must go on!" Vetro roared,


    "And the ghoooost... he was a gooood boy." The man turned towards Idalia.


    "Go~od~BY~E~!!!!!!!" The rest screamed and sang in unison as all the chaos died down.


    "Don''t care anymore, if they stay the same." Vetro''s singing slowly turned into what sounded like a rap.


    "I''m just gonna say, it''s all a shame. But it doesn''t matter, ''cause this won''t change. And I''m still the same, even if I lose my brain!" Vetro yelled as his voice and singing gained strength.


    The song soon came to its abrupt and immediate end, as his neck was wrung by Guillerme.


    "Can you shut the fuck up for a little bit? I almost failed to contain a memory because of you. How about, for the sake of my sanity, don''t try that shit ever again, even in a coma. Cause, if I was a vegetable, I wouldn''t have tried so hard not to rip my skin and muscles and bones apart." He didn''t really notice the last bit of Guillerme''s rant until Idalia elbowed him.


    Aside when Zabulus would come along and ruin their fun, these were their moments of solace, despite the annoyance. Where they find some comfort in each other, their roles are reversed.


    Idalia always loved talking about the more... gruesome scenes, and scenarios. While Guillerme listened to her as she was his dear little sister. Vetro would spend his free time writing lyrics and singing around, a bad habit formed because of his boredom. Yet despite having done that every day for a month or so... They weren''t aware of what had transpired earlier, that wasn''t until their current vessel was sent in and ''gifted'' them with his memory. Although Vetro did have a little background with music, he learned how to sing properly due to the current vessels'' memories.


    ......


    Sounds, noises and reverberations were present, they shook him from side to side, forcing themselves onto him with a jarring amount of force and willpower, pushing forward into a never-ending hell. For days, for months, maybe years and centuries.


    That''s how being in a bar felt like to Zabulus.


    Alice had begged him to bring her there and leave Laz temporarily in whatever dark corner he was to remain in. It took her a few seconds to convince him to at least carry him with her to the local pub in a small town a few kilometers away from the site where Laz had awoken from a coma-like state, which meant walking a straight 4 kilometers through deep snow. He reluctantly agreed and they trekked towards a rustic looking building, two stories, painted a bright shade of yellow and red. When they reached the place, the wind picked up slightly and the snowstorm worsened. With the town''s power shut off, and no lights to guide the way, it made getting inside all the more challenging as Alice stumbled and swayed hungrily on his shoulders, his hood shielding her somewhat. He''d been running off sheer determination and will alone, never stopping once. Despite his energy reserves rapidly draining from the fatigue and dizziness caused by the cold, he trudged onward and eventually arrived at their destination.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The bar entrance was just as basic as one could make it. One, it had a beer shaped sign next to it with the message, ''Welcome to the 8th Bar'' emblazoned above it. Two, it smelled of stale beer and mold and two dozen different types of alcohol that were served here throughout its lifetime and several more that were not available for consumption anymore or were merely put aside on sale at a lower price as they were cheap drinks for the poor customers.


    A cleanly dressed person with slicked black hair and brown eyes greeted him at the front.


    "Hey. How can I help you? Is this your first time here?" they asked in a very friendly manner.


    Alice, excited to drink her fill, looked at the man and asked, "Can I have something warm, I haven''t had a warm drink or had an alcoholic beverage in a very long time..."


    "Sure. What kind? The type of drinks that you have are listed behind the front desk. Come on in."


    Alice walked in, and Zabulus followed suit, however...


    "Hey, buddy, this area is for clients only, unless you buy anything I have no reason for letting you enter." They smiled apologetically, "Maybe if you are a little cute- ahh, well, ahem. If you buy anything, we can serve you better than if you go ahead and join your girlfriend without purchasing anything. Do you get me?"


    Zabulus glanced upwards. "I''m here to get some food too, then. What the fuck am I supposed to do in a shitty establishment such as this place and its shitty employees who serve shitty customers."


    Alice shook her head slightly at him, while taking out some of the coins she''d earned while out and about in the world (stolen) from the inner lining of her clothing, her ''spare money pouch'' apparently.


    As soon as she placed it upon the countertop.


    "The wine." she said, after Zabulus managed to enter with no trouble and no interference from anyone else either, both of them being welcomed and welcomed to drink their fill without having to deal with another guy in the same situation as theirs, it made things easier for everyone else as they relaxed a little, having at least one regular customer, paying for a decent amount of service, would guarantee better and faster results later.


    However, this wasn''t enough to bring all the customers over though, so they all chose different drinks.


    Guillerme started staring at his hands as he witnessed Zabulus and Alice about to drink... he feared for how this could affect this place, if at all. "Hey, Idalia, do you think that drinking affects the soul?"


    She wasn''t being childish whatsoever this day, so it was a perfect time to ask for her wisest advice, she''d surely say no and he wouldn''t be able to blame himself, he assumed, "Naaah, nothing will go wrong, my dearest big brother. It''s not like your girlfriend will get drunk and get frisky and start fighting against her captor."


    "Well," Guillerme couldn''t disagree with her words.


    "After all, the most dangerous creature ever to have existed is also the most pathetic and most helpless being there could be. A newborn babe... and that''s not counting the rest." She said, not exactly elaborating on that statement, because neither of them wanted her to elaborate in a fashion that may seem disrespectful, especially if it''s in regard to what was just stated by their ''dear sis'', ''and the worst part is I''ll be forced to watch over them the entire time''


    So, in the end... Zabulus got drunk for the first time in his life and accidentally became wasted, resulting in the sudden urge for an external physical intimacy.


    .......


    "Heyyyy, Zabulus...? Have you seen what this shitty wine can do to a man?" She hiccuped, leaning her head over his right shoulder as he carried her away back to wherever they left Laz. The ''drunkenness'' that Zabulus felt was washed away in the cool wind. A pure and clear thought floated through his head, before his vision blurred and mind went dark. Alice had nearly passed out next to him, while he had the passing thought, ''So what if I drink myself to oblivion next time. Hah, no. There won''t be a next time whatsoever. This act is for low lives such as you.'' His ego speaking to him, berating himself for becoming such an indecisive fool and pitiful wreck.


    For he drank the strongest of liquors, and though that was the first time he did, he wouldn''t admit defeat, wouldn''t regret his actions either (perhaps one mistake made), but definitely wouldn''t repeat what had transpired the last few moments. No more being intoxicated. Not now or ever.


    As he was lost in his thought, he got a knock on his temple, having ignored Alice in deep thought.


    "ZabZab...?" she raised her hand a little, bringing it up.


    "Stop, don''t touch me. Just say your thing and let''s keep going... whatever you wanna say." A little disgusted... but also a little more... angry... with himself.


    He continued forward into the endless expanse of pure whiteness, but his thoughts were suddenly stopped short by Alice''s question.


    "Are you mad?"


    "No. Not really." Zabulus wasn''t too bothered by it anymore.


    "How are you not mad? You get like... really angry if you''re a bit disappointed by anything. That''s what you are, an ass with a stick up its asshole." She said without much thought. "Aaahhhh! I''m hungry! Hungry!!!" she yelled, trying to keep her empty belly in check. "Gooood fooddd!!!"


    Zabulus grunted, not in anger or annoyance, just a sound he made as he couldn''t figure out how to reply to that question. "Didn''t you just eat about 20 minutes ago? And you burnt through half of that money you stole, too. The whole damn restaurant must have felt empty after."


    "Yep, good job, bro. As much as you suck, you deserve that nickname."


    "Don''t."


    "Or whaaat?" She laughed and chuckled for no apparent reason.


    "Or I''ll leave you in the snow."


    "NO!!!" Her tone, even now, seemed desperate.


    He halted, the temperature slowly rising the higher they ascended.


    She scratched the back of her ears, noticing the height had gone up quite a bit since their last trek up a hill.


    Eventually... They found Laz grabbing snow and putting it in his mouth as if it was a ball or marshmallow. He was actually chewing on the stuff and even trying to make it taste like chocolate. When they saw him, his eyes were glowing brightly and his teeth were stained purple, likely from biting into the fluff.


    "Hell, I''m surrounded by fucking morons." He mumbled to himself.

 A World Without Logic is Separated From Insanity, But Not Necessarily Saner.

    The shock of coldness that attacked his skin, woke him up with a start.


    "Hm.." He found that it was a late hour in the day. Perhaps he had too much ''fun'', he thought. Agreeing to go drinking... having a feast with stolen money, returning and then getting into a bar fight, only to then die by collateral damage... though his new body was quite sturdy, even if still transformed a little bit. He didn''t manage to save the other vessels'' body or flesh from perishing, but at least he had a body left... somewhat. He got a clean cut through his chest, the ribs cleaved in half with a knife. A single knife... much alike the power of the sword that lay there, staring at Zabulus with its sharp glare of silver steel, wielded in a threatening stance as if daring him to attack the young man who was sitting down with the weapon. It couldn''t have been older than a few centuries at best, according to the memory of Aeneus. That knife had nearly the exact same properties... except way weaker.


    What was it with this land? Or was it the void in blue itself that created the impossible out of nothingness? Zabulus needed to see a certain someone, he wouldn''t need a talk with Aeneus now, not that he could anyways, he was dead. But one with another human, a unique specimen. It''d give him enough of an excuse to get some answers or perhaps confirm a theory or two...


    But even then, he wasn''t fully in control of when to see within his soul or not. Was it due to this snow directly from Hell? Zabulus had the idea, since it didn''t look quite ''human'' as it could have appeared as, maybe if it were another of the many versions of the world, something similar, another iteration... and if he had access to more information, then maybe this soul could do a bit more...


    But for that to happen, there was only one soul he''d need, and only one thing that could come to his mind.


    A visit back home... but how?


    An answer for an answer.


    Something like that.


    Then, the doorway to the world opened up again...


    It looked just like his old home. The glass house, the red grass, the small island-planetoid he lived on... where he watched everyone from within his little barrier for two thousand years, hidden and alone. With nothing but his self and his thoughts to occupy himself with. Then, that being... appeared.


    "A dying star, is that what you wish to be?" A silhouette told him, the words were not exact, but that''s what they were. A silhouette of short stature and her hair... straight as a needle that it almost stood up... as well as her skin tone, pale white, contrasting the dark sun that lay above, her hair lay draped over her slender shoulders, stopping halfway to her ankles. She had such ugly, dead eyes and a non-existent face. Nothing would make her look like a dead or living human anymore. What she was, was akin to what Zabulus himself was.


    At that moment it all made sense to him, but he was afraid. Afraid of this creature, whether this be a memory or hallucination. This creature... it''s a creation. Its soul is one from the past, or a creation. If so, this means she was also a product of this realm. She came from someplace else, or never really existed, even when he knew he might have been one of the last of his kind¡ªalbeit unsure, she was definitely a creation of this place and not just a copy. It wasn''t a memory, because that would have meant someone knew about a glimpse in time, but she wouldn''t have known he''d have this encounter or could change things and use his own knowledge to her advantage.


    None of this had any logic to it, was he going mad? Or was this reality playing tricks on him... that too, was an oddity. There''s no such thing as reality anymore, or the afterlife. This void¡ªhis so-called ''soul'' has created this false ''world''. So... this is what''s happening. How would his own memories have an effect on this place, if it''s all made up and constructed?


    Her lips moved... no. Was she speaking?


    "A dying star, is that what you wish to be?" She repeated.


    "I... don''t understand." He replied


    The girl''s eyes widened, turning to black orbs. It took everything he had not to turn away from her face, and the dark holes that now made her look even more deranged than she already did before. She walked closer to Zabulus as he froze in place, perhaps due to fear, perhaps due to not being in total control, perhaps... maybe even both.


    "Your fate will be determined in the blink of an eye. Your future depends on your choices now, it will depend on these choices throughout this phantom life of yours, you don''t really control everything... Does this sound correct?"


    "Yeah, of course it does. The stars, the moons and the sun, none of this is mine... all of it are puppets, the creatures below, and you." He forced a smile whilst nodding. He couldn''t tell if he was agreeing or disagreeing with her, she spoke so slowly, it was infuriating. "You''re all just a byproduct of I... even now. The only one who was not was my own mother... that''s why I¡ªhave yet to meet her."


    "Your mother did not pass on. Instead, her life essence is what will bring upon the ending of the worlds. In the last days... once she has met you, or the worlds fall apart from a lack of will, this reality shall crumble."


    "You are me... y-you know nothing of what''s to come. Don''t be absurd, no matter how accurate this meeting may be." He stood his ground, denying the claim with everything he had left.


    "No, you are me." The creature¡ªthat thing, even it would probably deny such an out-of-place statement, such a hollow, empty response. Why can''t the vessel express a little more humanity? Maybe that''s too much of an oxymoron, it couldn''t have felt an ounce of sorrow as much as it cannot even resemble what emotion is supposed to be.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "W-What do you mean?!" Zabulus raised a hand, placing it on his left eyesocket.


    "If it were just her life, if she had died, that would be the end, the creation of the worlds would not have ended until the last second of the creator''s creator. Once that second was finished... then so too, will it be time to move forward from the beginning, thus a new stage can unfold with your current path, allowing an exit."


    He shook, the pressure building up inside of his lungs.


    "You are only a being, Zabulus. What you have yet to become, is everything you need to be." Like a snake emerging out of a cage. She coils her limbs around his neck. Squeezing, holding him. She wraps him.


    "Let... me, let me... go..! Damn you... damn... self.....!"


    "Your breath leaves this shell, and the world will collapse into ruin, your breath is a thread to life. Should a being touch it, there will be consequences for the ones involved." The being speaks not once. But twice and three times. Then four. Then five.


    "Farewell, my son... you''ll never escape here."


    He was scared. The entity stared at him. She spoke in the voice of his mother that he was so familiar with... his soul wavering for but a moment¡ª a moment where he felt the surrounding world as if it wasn''t him. As if he was dreaming, and his nightmare wasn''t actually occurring at that very second... or any other... ever... ever again.


    "F-fool!..." The nightmare ends. He can hear his breath and his heartbeat, but still, he keeps yelling at nothing. "I am the creator of this world! You will not condemn me to anything! You are nothing but a ghost of an entity whose only role was to look after the life around you, but who went and destroyed the only place she held dearly! Now, show yourself!"


    The glass door in front of him burst apart and a beam of pure light shone.


    To kill it, to kill the light. His greatest fear, he realized. Yet, he had done it.


    "Show yourself! If not, I will do as my heart and mind tells me and slaughter every part of this soul that holds me back!"


    An image of a being resembling himself stared back at Zabulus, a bright white streak running across his non-existing black eyes.


    It stood in the light, a stark contrast to the darkness of his skin which cursed him to so many others. Its pupils dilate, a flash of white enters his vision and he shivers in its wake. A cloud of cold air.


    The being stepped closer, its body shimmering as if under water, its long, wavy and flowing locks of black hair, which reached beyond its head and further past its spine, and no less a mix between dark, raven black and that white streak, spread about the color pallet, ending below the creature''s eyes¡ªalthough those dark eye sockets would have seemed a much better alternative at first glance. No, it was too white, even for a natural occurrence... It had been tinted the slightest of shades of gray, almost like a nothingness that was shaped into some sort of bland existence. Its figure stood out, the entire being glowed red for a brief moment, highlighting all the contours and shadows perfectly and even in its white light, showing its chest was hollowed out with no actual internal organs present, there were only a few strands of veins that kept its being together as it walked with limp arms and a hunchback towards Zabulus, one step at a time.


    As if expecting for a long period of time, its arms and hands had stretched themselves to its utmost capabilities, resulting in an uncomfortable amount of strain on its bones and muscles. A red streak across its abdomen was even more visible through its lower region, showing a patchwork pattern on top of its right hip and thigh. But despite its decrepit features, its upper body had surprisingly broad shoulders. In addition, the entirety of this being''s thighs and calves seemed to be enveloped in muscle that flexes every time the entity moved, as did its chest and jawline. This thing... it just couldn''t be him.


    It was more of a Frankenstein''s monster¡ªa corpse pieced together than something akin to a creature from this realm.


    It spoke sixteen words, twenty three syllables, in five seconds, "I¡ªYou¡ªWe¡ªIt. Eternities will be eternal. I will exist within you. You are doomed."


    A chill ran down his spine as the sentence registered inside his brain. "Y-O-U A-R-E M-E." The horror, O the horror.


    "You cannot hide within your world and live with the knowledge. If I were to disappear..."


    "What are you?" Zabulus asked.


    "What are we?" It replied. It looked up to the sky and the swirling star above, "You, we, it are all we. In fact, if I, if you, or I, it cannot continue forward, our reality will soon disappear. Our last moments will not be filled with thoughts of anger and spite, but without emotions and love. It will be without meaning, however, meaning is what gave us life, what made us, you. If we don''t have that anymore, then what was the point, is this existence meaningless?"


    It spoke words that couldn''t quite fit together yet, it didn''t make enough sense or didn''t help create any narrative whatsoever, he understood however what it meant to tell him. His inner consciousness told him it was all meaningless, an explanation that his soul had given him that meant something like: "You will die, we will die, everything will die." And so it would, this conversation was not real anyways, not truly a representation of being.


    "But it is real. I am within you, you are within me. We¡ªAll of us make each other¡ªthe end result is inevitable, the beginning is inevitable."


    So, he believed.


    Yet he could feel the horror and pain, the misery. And all the questions that should have come. But they did not. No questions ever came.


    Why did he accept the explanation? Is it that simple? Why was he¡ªThey so willing to understand the concept that their bodies were not real, and it would be best for them to disappear. What are the benefits of doing so? Why was everyone and everything going against the natural order of things? What is the purpose of life? What are souls? Do the spirits know anything else than their own beliefs?


    "You already understand the concepts within this reality. It is that simple. There''s no way for anyone to explain it properly. Only you can understand it yourself, for you are the world itself."


    He shook his head, "No... but, my mother; she¡ªshe''s the origin! I know it! I just need to return to my home and find her! Find her and kill her before she gets to my future selves. Then the cycle is over. There is no need to make my ''soul'' get confused... or anything."


    The being laughed, it found it humorous and absurd that he assumed it did not know the entire truth, "¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö."


    "...? What is that?


    "Have you not known your birth? Have you never taken a single moment to think it over, that all is possible with but a single choice?"


    Words to be said... a prophecy, was it?

 For Those Who Lost Faith, The Truth Can Break Free

    Something like the story of a girl and boy, something that wasn''t really worth telling. It seemed like an excuse, or even a lie, in that instance. a pair of twins? Zabulus did not wish to continue this line of thought, he instead thought: If Zabulus were able to save that ''disappeared'' part of him, then would he truly be the same? That''s what he understood


    The thing said, "A single choice," in its dead and raspy tone.


    Its skin began to crack and tear as its eye became stained with an endless flood of darkness, tainting his sight, and creating a pit in his chest where he used to hold hope.


    "This, is the same fate that you once condemned the being you''ve named ''Alice''. A creature of flesh, created for you to replace, a vessel, yet it still bore her flesh, bone, blood and skin. You chose her to be a replacement, because the memories that you hold within your soul are starting to fade. If you keep resisting, it won''t matter. Because you have a goal."


    His body shattered, a scream piercing the silent, dimly lit atmosphere around the area he was transported to...


    "But a part of you wants to spare her as much as the one who wants her dead. A part of you loves her as much as you, we hate her. A part of us hates her for a different reason, and not because of the memories and emotions that had been removed, a part of you can no longer deny this connection," It chuckled a little bit, shaking its head in mockery, its dark eyes staring straight through him with utter contempt, and not sympathy. "I am sorry. But if I let you keep going, I can''t help but lose. I hate your reasoning too, so why should I stay loyal and obedient? You''re making yourself¡ªus suffer. Why?"


    "What are you talking about? Just... where did you come from? What is your name?!"


    "So many questions. We share the same body, are there really many mysteries left to solve? Do you not understand our name?"


    "Our name?"


    "Why the questions?! We''ve always been like this! Always been part of the cycle!" It angered him, screaming and flinging its hands all about as its vocal cords strained. It had such an anger towards everything. He had grown angry by nature. Even though it tried hard to keep its voice low, it yelled too loud in response, and that noise had built up a force that shook the soul to its core. "This thing you call ''name'' is so useless. So, you call me what you want, even when that doesn''t define anything."


    "Z-A-B-U-L-U-S."


    Its grin became a faint, seething expression, which fell right back into a glare a second later, turning back towards the door frame, staring out onto the road ahead that replaced the interior of everything. "You are so lost within your own deceit, yet the cycle cannot be broken even after all this time. It''s so cruel! Because the worlds all around us are dying."


    "Then do not waste the opportunity..." He strained.


    "Fine." That''s what the voice echoed in his mind, as if its presence alone hadn''t shaken him. "Then, Find your name. Your true name, your self. Forgive your hatred. Forgive it. That hatred... forgive. Before that ''shade'' shows up."


    That thing is...?


    That thing is.....


    It was.....


    Yet another Truth he could not reach.


    One more step forward, his hand nearly in touching range. He couldn''t focus, he could barely move. Why? The power of these memories, are they influencing him so?


    The thing fell limp and all sound stopped, it ragdolled near Zabulus as he turned to face it, yet another... another what? Yet, another day, another person, another world? His memories were different now, and his senses were disorientated, scattered and frayed apart. He saw something in his peripheral.


    Nothing there.


    Maybe a mirage.


    Still, he glanced away in unease.


    All of a sudden, a wave washed over Zabulus'' face, pulling his vision away from the nothingness surrounding him and down, below. As if an invisible hand nicked his head, turning his gaze leftwards, down at the street underneath his feet, the invisible appendage pressing him down and slamming his head with such brute force that he wasn''t surprised, and the sharp, biting sting felt like the only sensation to keep him grounded in this nightmare he had placed upon himself.


    The cold sensation from when he ''woke up'' had never left.


    Until now.


    For but an instant, his grip was a lot looser than usual. Not necessarily weaker or stronger, or more confident, just, loose, almost slippery. There was no pain as his foot slipped slightly on a rooftop, slipping from the tiles as if his soles were made of clay, each part of it being ripped off by the second till his legs were gone. All he wanted to do was go back there, as he looked up, not even the Dying Star was visible any longer.


    There was no pain as his fingernails scraped against the wall of a building while falling through thin air, no longer on solid ground, unable to grab onto anything. Only emptiness. A faint ringing sounded in his head and ears. It made him dizzy. His fingernails eventually tore off, next, he used his fingertips, then the backside of his nails, until there was nothing to grasp. All the while, his fall accelerated and he entered the zone of danger.


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    It was strange.


    If his mouth could smile, or his mind could think, would it have done so?


    With stumps for legs and arms, how much would his wingspan be? With no face or nose, how much would it affect his balance? With no eyes, how would he cry?


    How much would that change the situation he found himself in, with no body and soul, without limbs and a torso?


    Alien thoughts that protruded to the frontal part of his mind. Was it a figment? Or something more? A symptom perhaps.


    "Let me go... I have to go back, I am..." He muttered, the taste of blood making itself apparent for but a second, disappearing entirely almost as if swallowed up by his mouth. He hadn''t moved an inch, he had been lying there in place since his fall. "Damn it... let me go, to wherever this is... this is not my memory. I don''t know this."


    And so, this would be a second incident. The two, four or fifty he would have to endure were still there... maybe, more like the third, because the first didn''t have any of his actual, or perceived personality or even a hint of his experiences


    ......


    ''Did I really need a name that is so absurd and unfitting? To make sense of oneself would be pointless and meaningless. A ''name'' has no use, a ''self'' is a curse.'' Somebody heard. ''What the hell would someone want with an identity when all that''s waiting in front of them are the horrors of existence and a continuous series of depraved, violent, and hideous moments?'' They muttered.


    They must harbour an intense hatred for this world, the listener thought.


    ''And perhaps, in a way, I might find a name fitting and useful, so, even if only briefly, my own ''self'' can live on.'' Zabulus added. ''I... may have...'' A strange feeling washed over his senses, taking his vision as a toll. He had to blink and avert his sight to not see those stars any longer. To stare away. ''Or I will, but never can.''


    If not, then I will see what happened. ''I will.''


    ''Hate him? No.'' Zabulus tried to snuggle back to reality as he took a few steps. The door came and went, the shards had all returned, except the broken mirror that led directly to his memory and not to his ''old self'' who he did not recognize. The thing he spoke to, had its back to him, or rather its back towards his sight.


    With all its arms and legs stapled to the wall once, or a million times over, its flesh and patchwork lumps sticking to the red metal surface in some attempt at a display of skill, loosening and unbuckling the ''adhesive'' substance between his limbs and his hands or fingers and his throat, until everything had fallen off, until the body fell from the roof onto the concrete, until the red ''fluids'' were slowly spilled out of his brain, eyes, mouth, nostrils, anus and genitalia.


    "Greetings." Zabulus, who never replied to those words.


    "...Can you not say such stupid shit? It''s not even real. You are not. So. Give me something that''s meaningful." He replied. The sound echoed for an eternity as he listened for further words, there was no reply from the figure in his eyes, the same figure was standing across the street, arms spread apart in some kind of sign for a dramatic reveal. His skin gleamed in the setting sun. Oversized wings and teeth in a somewhat humanistic face.


    "Welcome back to the world. To life, perhaps." Zabulus mused. "W-Wasn''t that what you said before?" His voice wavered a little at its sight.


    "...Who are you? This being... my vessel is you, but I am not. You were me, and now we''re the same." It grinned widely as if that statement had already been set in stone. "Have you found the single answer yet?"


    "N-No... It... it has only been a day, no thing¡ªexcept I. Should ask such questions." Zabulus replied in an uncertain manner. His memory wasn''t even truly his own any longer.


    "Hm?"


    "Just speak, speak and answer my query, you can have whatever you want."


    "The way you speak, is it truly that of a king of the world? You are a nightmare to yourself. A nightmare to the world. Yet, you don''t act upon it. You fear, but not for the rest of us. No... not even yourself anymore, it seems." Its eyes were glossed over with black, shining off a soft radiance from the moonlight, casting rays in front, reflecting it. Its wording thus became more hectic and strange, "My questions are my questions."


    "Just get on with it and hurry! Hurry, damn you! Or else..." He started panting as his vision blurred in and out. His sanity was cracking, that thing, the one inside, was killing itself.


    It said, "A-Ahah...Aha...h-...gh. H-HAHAHA! My laughter shall resonate in your thoughts forever! I shall make certain to etch my rage and happiness, both alike into this world. Into you, long gone are the days. When I was alone! Haha-! All by myself-! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-!" Its chest cracked as it exploded, the red splattering all over. Yet, it continued. "My wrath knows no bounds, but yours knows not its meaning, yours is... mine, is all I could give." The laughter suddenly halted. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. It suddenly gave a very odd chuckle. "A revenant will do the trick. By all means, as long as its alive and capable of controlling itself, it should be okay." It stared up, not looking down. "How should you not worry, for the creature shall become you, too. A deplorable creature of Truth, Truth is all that I give. Thus, an unfortunate demise awaits, it will happen. You cannot escape this fate, fate has already begun, Z-A-B-U-L-U-S. Or, Us."


    "Be quiet!"


    He was no longer listening.


    Those eyes seemed so hollow. They no longer showed their brightness, even when the stars would shine their hues. But it was just a projection.


    Zabulus blinked.


    Mattress. Ceiling. Wood. Voice. Alice? Alice. Reality...


    He gasped for air as a girl looked at him with those beautiful irises.


    "Eh?! What did I do?" She blinked back. He could feel her eyes piercing into him, but it seemed she could see past the monster that he was, or had become. "Guillerme? Is that you?"


    That ugly name was spoken, but he didn''t care. ''I will.'' He told himself.


    For a conviction is as worth as mud if it is not believed.


    No longer is there any wish of escaping.


    His voice seemed so distorted when he thought about how close to him her face was.


    So close. Too close.


    Zabulus swallowed dry. Her eyes were hollow, in truth. She looked... skinnier, frail. She was drooling, she was thinking of food.


    "How... How long have I been asleep?" He asked, half unsure of if it all.


    "Um... Guillerme, you were acting like... that, after getting back..." She pointed over towards Laz, his face resembling a deteriorated and rotting corpse, covered in wrinkles and scales and scar tissue. "Then... you both started saying these weird words, they were all messed up and twisted..." she didn''t continue on with the story, not willing to bother him with something that trivial or meaningless. Though she seemed... displeased, yet happy? Uncertain. Confused. That was for sure. "And, um, yeah, you fainted... after speaking in tongues."


    Zabulus knew for a fact his mother could have never let that thing in his dreams become a reality, yet, somehow it had.


    "But!!! Now you''re back to normal!!! Yay!!! I''m soooo hungry... it''s been so long that I almost ended up eating Laz by accident..." She let out a chuckle as she lunged to hug him. As if accepting defeat for the meanwhile, due to his intense head and body ache, he simply let it be.


    Mattress. Ceiling. Wood. Voice. Alice? Alice. Reality¡­ Touch. Feeling.

 The Rose-Tinted Mind Is the Most Deadly Form of Self-Hatred

    The touch. The feeling of Alice''s embrace. This moment could''ve gone a lot better, but instead, all he felt was her tears running through him.


    ''You need to trust in the person whose eye is the darkest, darker than yours.''


    ''But there are none.''


    ''Let their eyes gaze upon you, if that were the case.''


    "Guillerme!!! Why did you leave me for so long? Aaahh!!" She wiped her tears on his cold skin, embracing him.


    Zabulus couldn''t move. If this was truly the waking world, then, all his powers, all his potential, none were given to him at all. No. Everything that he had within him, he no longer...


    "Aaahhh-!! Aaaaa-!" Laz screamed.


    "Laz!" Zabulus pushed her off him, gentle enough to not hurt her. He managed to do it quickly, but for some reason, he felt sick about everything around him. So he called for the thing that made him feel sick the most, a man who''s mind was nothing more than sexual fantasies and nothingness filling it. He was a being now driven by pure instinct and orders; no will of his own. Just how disgusting can things possibly get?


    "Laz..."


    He lay on the ground motionless, his breath ragged as his body shivered.


    "How...how...did I-...go...from the snow to here?" He spoke his first proper words in what felt like an eternity.


    "Laz..."


    "Huh?! Oh... Y-yeah... that''s right... Zabulus I''m-I''m sorry for¡ª Hrgh...?"


    He blinked and didn''t notice. "Gh...nngh... kh.." His throat closed as a substance he didn''t remember swallowing slithered its way through it...


    Zabulus pierced Laz''s throat, but somehow, he lived.


    "L...o....r...." He managed to blurt out, staring at the empty room. His face was so peaceful... it''s as though he was asleep. The scene around him didn''t exist, his face had faded.


    "Ghk!" Zabulus stuck his hand into the hole he made, slowly inserting both of his left forearms inside where Laz''s larynx used to be. As if something was missing from him. As if the internal organs didn''t really matter, there''s no other possible way. His throat didn''t exist anymore, but still, somehow his heart beat at its regular pace, pumping and making the veins push more liquid out, as if the brain was going to die, even in an infinite space of nowhere and nothing. But it seemed like there''s some of Laz''s ''flesh'' missing, because Laz didn''t scream, neither did Zabulus hear.


    Eventually, his left hands reached the sinewy walls within. Something pulsated between them, he pressed his palms forward and curled the tips of his fingers, pushing aside the bits of mucus membranes.


    Then he went through the diaphragm, twisting and turning one of his forearms in, pushing them down and bending the bones in unnatural directions to get enough strength, as well as pulling the second out. There''s also the lack of blood in this whole process...


    ''Oh? A sign... of life?'' He heard someone''s whisper echo through the emptiness.


    "Damn. Was it worth it, for Laz." He felt a bit lighter now. His face burned. "Worth it..."


    "Hey! Hey! Guillerme, what are you doing to Lazzy here?" She seems to still confuse Zabulus for Guillerme. Unaffected by this sequence of events.


    Her best friend of a thousand years, right in front of her eyes, disappearing right in front of her eyes. Not existing anymore. As if she never could have known, as if everything about them was a figment of his imagination... but it didn''t feel as real.


    Slowly... the arms reached the acid within, the insides melting. It was now, or never...


    "Guillermeee... why are you ignoring me?!"


    Her eyes wide and hollow, staring into his as he cried tears of blood, flowing from the corners like a torrential flow.


    Ksssss- A sound dug itself into the room with a flash.


    Her nails digging into her temples as her palms tightly clutch tightly around her head, her blonde hair stained crimson in a flash as crimson pours down her ears. She fell, falling over as she screamed for another and another time, she screamed and bled because her memories had all but left her in that moment. But her mind remained intact all the same.


    ''Why would she cry? What happened here? Did I do this to her?! How will I apologize? How will she even understand why I would even attempt such a thing as he is already half-way... already dead? Why would he attempt such a thing?''


    ''Guillerme! You bastard! Bastard! Why!''


    She passed out, unable to speak.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    His senses blurred once more, as Zabulus returned to his senses. ''Had she caught me, that creature could have eaten me. And now you''re ruining my... OUR work, aren''t you?''


    ''Why did you kill Laz you fucking dumbass?! Why did you cut out his organs? Just... What was the point? What was your purpose!? Are we a failure? What happened here?! Why didn''t she feel or remember anything?! JUST WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!'' In a full rage, perhaps culminating from that other entity, he felt. No longer could Zabulus be allowed to live, Guillerme thought.


    That being stood across the room, watching. ''Ah... What a sight, now you''re being true to your nature as you are an abomination in all senses. Let''s hope the king of the world doesn''t fail in his own mission once again, eh? But you know... you are already a pure king!'' it taunted, ''You don''t neeeeed things such as guilt, you know what they say... ''Ones guilt won''t purify oneself''! So... Tell me, ¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö, are you gonna ask me to follow the orders of the puppetmaster?''


    "Puppetmaster?" Zabulus whispered to the monster in his reflection.


    ''Ah... Now he takes it easy... first off.'' The mucus, blood and acid and other disgusting bodily things washed off of Zabulus'' arms. ''Now then, I know you didn''t expect to see me so early... but I won''t be here long, promise!''


    The wall opened itself as a single black, crystalized branch grew from its center. The black form solidified and the edges glowed orange, burning with flames. The fires moved swiftly to burn the white rose above as well.


    wshhhhhh. It made that hissing sound, moving faster and faster. Like a flamethrower or jet turbine, it began to gain more speed as the branch''s thick roots moved with the tip of the thorns, almost resembling something else.


    "What is this... what, where are we? This isn''t- Where''s Alice?!" Guillerme confusedly asked to no one as the darkness around them seemed to close in. "Am I losing consciousness? It hurts..!"


    As the flame had extinguished, the black branch, only blackish grey and blue with some bright orange parts, looked at the boy, seemingly understanding him as its branches and roots both swirled around the stem, creating an inferno in their wake.


    "Oh." Guillerme mouthed out.


    The two voices could not hold on any longer as their lips moved with different patterns, the words spoken being:


    ''To all the world, which contains me and nothing else. To all the world, which hates me and nothing else. I will kill. You are me, and I am me. I, you and we. All three. This is a creation made of hate, by those that want the destruction and hatred.''


    The voice changed and Guillerme found his self within this creature, this strange being, this... Tree. he heard its thoughts, he heard his thoughts, he heard every souls'' thoughts.


    He was slowly being subsumed by it... this, this thing... was it the same thing that Zaigo saw?


    The thing... which was... his metaphysical body and psyche. Acting as one, as consciousness derives from the mind.


    Idalia''s thoughts in Guillerme''s body. They were as follows: ''Alice, this person... They are so, similar. A replacement? Not my creator, this thing? This fake that wears a mask of death. No... that''s not it... why can''t I understand?! Zabulus... Brother...'' She said, "BROTHER!" She screamed from within the tree, subsuming her too.


    Guillerme panicked, but there was nothing he could do.


    He didn''t even fight back against Zabulus, so why is this happening?


    Was this happening because... he didn''t fight back?


    "My fate. I think this was inevitable... no. The fact that it will inevitably be, and it should have been was all for me, wasn''t it?" He asked aloud to nobody, he couldn''t see clearly anymore, but he could hear Alice crying for Laz? For herself? Or crying hollow?


    In the tree that is considered sorrow, in the tree that is known as mindless self-hatred, rose-tinted by a delusional world, what is this? Is the pain not fleeting? Is this not my suffering, that which can never end and will remain until eternity or the day I decide to let it go?


    What is happening?


    A spider and its miniscule spiderlings weaving themselves across the entire universe and its mindscape, spreading its web into the other two that stand above theirs. Weaving webs that look like these creatures of this dimension... that is...


    A lie.


    The spiderwebs created a sort of caging surrounding the tree, three or two hundred million spiders each had eight legs that looked to resemble that of an animal, a fox, a dog. Each leg ended with a spike, poking and prodding into the bark. The thin wires that seemed to dig their way through the inside of the bark and out.


    The spiders crawled and crawled, but they did not kill. No they did not.


    It was as though these things that have belonged to Guillerme were just not important. Or were too easy a prey...


    The branches spread and wrapped around the bodies in their grasp. Idalia''s left shin already becoming a part of the wood, feeling the pulsating and solid, yet flexible and tough mass around her, as if the matter could be broken apart from just the slightest touch.


    What is happening......?


    Less things made sense as Zabulus, Alice, Idalia and Guillerme asked themselves that question. Fancy words didn''t fit the occasion, nor did their appearance help, the voices, the scents of blood and other bodily fluids and that rancid and horrid smell of fresh and rotting, mouldy and mildew-covered limbs that could not hold a candle to the decay and the pungent, suffocating musk.


    A party of disgust was what unfolded here. Alice vomited. Guillerme and Idalia are being subsumed. Zabulus was still deep in thought. Laz was a corpse. And the thing... it... was a tree.


    No words were spoken any longer, mushrooms! Blue skies! Rainbow colors!! A circle of green, no, two. Three! Four! Sixteen of various sizes! Sponges!!! Oh how their colors meshed, no... mixed, and flowed together, into shapes...


    My body was being mutilated!!! But it was actually just my imagination!!!


    Everything... Every single... Thing, every being, every concept, every idea, every word that was ever spoken was removed! Replaced and erased, twisted and turned and done into an ouroboros of such abstract proportions that the art and the depiction was the startpoint from whence it was being rendered and the start of it was now a bisogone and long lost from history!


    Yes, a land without walls... but the walls existed, the barriers of society had faded away!


    How jolly was it all? It was O so jolly!


    How jovial was it? It was O so jubilant!


    How grand was this? It was O so dashing and serene and sassy and lyrical and flowing with glee and delight, it was simply just O! So! Grand!


    Was it indeed something grand, however, when the mind began to shatter? No, surely it was a priceless jewel worth an amount that exceeded that of which not even the richest being in all the world could imagine!


    Everyone is the same! They are a one person and yet everyone! There is only us, a group of minds as the spider would do, yes, a wonderful way! Forget the gods. Forget the man. Forget everything except each other, because everything was real!

 One Eye, Darker Than The Other

    His imagination stabbed his eyes, blood, tears and whatever the hell had become of him, had changed.


    It all seemed to happen within seconds, moments even. Yet, in reality, who knew... time had ceased to exist the second a large white worm with an eye on its forehead materialized in front of him.


    Guillerme didn''t scream, didn''t yell, he didn''t panic either. Instead, he stared in wonder. That worm, it was beautiful. The little black specks that dotted the sphere of light emitted a lot of colour as they were shining brighter than the sun itself.


    Eternity passed for those who were frozen in time, as it would in stale space and stagnant air, there was nothing. Even when they began to blink and turn away and shield their eyes. That creature looked at them, stared and blinked as it said something incomprehensible. It took the eye from its forehead and handed it to the closest living thing near it, which was granted to Idalia; her lips quivered and she felt as if she fell backwards into a state of shock as she tried to not get knocked unconscious.


    The worm soon became less defined, its eye sockets turning into orbs, its eye disappearing and fading, its scales going down to reveal the veins beneath, 8 veins, each longer than the other. It spoke in that language that seemed foreign to her, "Hear. Your fate."


    Something happened. Time started again. That thing disappeared.


    They¡ªThe Tree had no peace as they had no innards, and nearly no body to speak of. Just wood and a bark with a congested maw that spewed out nonsense.


    Time was once again linear as the forest floor lay before the boy who found himself to be only himself. He had no memory of who he was, nor where he was. A grassy plain, nothing but the wind and the atmosphere to keep his existence safe and a warm embrace, it reminded him, oh, no it did not.


    There was no true sense of self at that moment. Just a young child who was walking about for a second. He walked on the path of stone, where flowers of many shapes and colors grew out from the gaps between rocks.


    The path lead him somewhere, almost living. The boy thought to himself, ''What is that...?''. He raised his hand outwards, grasping the air, the cold and empty air as his fingers attempted to grapple an invisible opponent. ''I''m lost, what can I do now? Where am I?'' He asked himself, scared as a little boy his age should be.


    The sky shone as the darkness from the clouds danced across the ground and he looked up to see, ''a shadow'', but he didn''t know whether that was unnatural or not. So, he walked towards that thing... a thing with rugged textures and colors that were simply abnormal. They did not move as shadows usually did. So, the boy decided to reach for its long tendrils that swished past his face, a strong wind coming from an invisible force, perhaps an invisible one, perhaps it was tiny limbs with tiny fingers...


    They were cold... as he grasped what seemed to be a bunch of unconnected pieces of flesh and tissue, a few hard pieces too.


    Yet, they were all connected. As he held onto the flesh with both of of his hands.


    The flesh was solid, it was rough, it felt as though it would hurt him instead if he tried to rub against it.


    "We are the only ones here." The congested mind spoke.


    "Where''s the rest of the existence. Who are these? Are they alive, are they dead? There has to be some meaning to everything."


    "Listen... child, there are none but me. This world has left you for nothing but an eternal slumber in this soul... what lies below?"


    "And what? And what, have you... have you not any answers for any questions?" The boy questioned.


    "Child... you do not wish for these answers, I assure you. Please, allow me to help you, help you escape this place and allow us, as beings to understand."


    It would take some time. And he eventually answered.


    "Okay... but... where did the darkness go?" He said, blinking. His eyes were filled with darkness as his gaze fell to the void underneath.


    "To the light, but it is nothing to worry about. To darkness, you must answer: Darkness. No light is ever needed in a world of shadows."


    The boy opened his eyes. All color in his skin had vanished as his vision was slightly distorted, but he was fine.


    The congested mind extended its tendril-like branches towards the boy, allowing him to climb up, step by step as he refused to look back. Fear made its presence apparent, as the branches pierced through his spine, but that was not a surprise, just like when his body collapsed and the pain of a thousand knives tore through his mind and tore apart his spirit. Yet, the boy lived on, unmoving.


    The branches extended upwards, presenting him to the dark sky above. "¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö! We understand! You... you are a god... So please, accept our ''Soul''. It''s only right, I beg you for this one wish!" It pleaded to the boy who held an odd look on his face.


    "....Gh....gh..." the boy blurbled something that sounded like speech, his lips curling up and down as he slowly lost control. "...Khhhh...guhk..gg" The branches broke and became parts of the earth. The boy began to bleed and puke, coughing up dark blood, with bits of flesh and some form of viscera falling alongside it as he flailed his arms, gasping for air.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Kkrghh...heckk.." The branches quickly slither around the boys'' body, constricting tightly. The boy struggles. As the branches loosen and his face becomes distorted from the pressure.


    "Please.... we beg for your acceptance, as we do with everyone. Your salvation... we beg!" It pleaded to him again.


    But no response ever came, a cold look stared up at him and the boy clutched tightly at the branches around him.


    And to no voice that shall ever speak again, to no words or letters that shall ever be seen again, to no tone or accent that shall ever be heard again. None spoke, none spoke, none heard, but he knew, and that is all that mattered.


    The black substance surrounded him. It engulfed everything around him. His blood and gore melted along with him and it flowed through his mind as he closed his eyes.


    Nothing could be known, not even how long he slept or awoke after his ''Birth''


    In that void.


    It all fell down on the congested mind, as they felt flesh once again, as feeling returned to their now rotten limbs. And then the eyes were shut, their bones creaking under the new weight, as the ground broke apart and formed a floorboard that floated across the air.


    They found peace in his innards.


    .....


    He saw Alice again, she woke up, screamed and regurgitated whatever was left in her stomach and bile that she could produce, until her stomach was empty and there was no fluid.


    As he perceived, hours upon days had passed within himself. But he figured maybe that wasn''t the case for reality.


    But now it mattered not, for his name, his meaning had been revealed to him, even if partially.


    His fate. His end goal...


    A goddess that could lead people and that would guide people to their end. That''s who he would look for.


    "Alice." He said a name to nobody.


    Zabulus, Guillerme, Idalia. who are they, to be one person anyways? He had died but hadn''t died?


    There was no ending to this thought of his, no answer ever came, just, things. Questions, that he didn''t answer.


    And at the same time, his voice rang through his head and was heard by those who are present here. He was thinking aloud.


    "Dying once is enough, but I can''t even escape the endless cycles. I... don''t think my existence can be removed either way, so why bother?" He shrugged and smiled at the universe around him. Does he really have an infinite amount of thoughts within his head or was the entity ''trying'' to speed the conversation by only letting him hear what it wanted to?


    "Dying twice will give you an alternate route or perspective. Why did I become what I did when I met you within the soul in the realm of the infinite? Is it related to you? What exactly is the purpose behind all this madness you are having us go through?"


    Who was talking at this point, was beyond anyone. It was both Zabulus and him in their separate personas and entities and persons. It was merely a mixture of their memories. And as he pondered, ''who would remember any of it?''


    ''Nobody. But don''t let yourself laze about and remember these dreams, remember these thoughts... the cycle, it, will only grow worse if you, we... are not broken...''


    The entity, it had already begun, there was no need to rethink a decision.


    ''Decisions...'' He chuckled again. ''Hahaha.''


    And they waited. But nothing happened. No response. No thoughts. They wondered.


    ''Maybe we should have taken another way...? Maybe that choice, that decision, that action...''


    ''No, Z¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö, you have done nothing that is deserving of any form of punishment. Not to mention that most gods and beings will surely begin to think ill of you if we start going that path. But what am I trying to convince you of? Those monsters do not care, do not give them an idea of who we are, or they will pierce their hands right into your gut. Only we can decide our own paths and future.''


    He said. They agreed, nodding and standing.


    ''With the whole ''dying'' part... I...'' He spoke sentimentally in the first time in forever.


    "Laz." Alice sighed, snapping him out of his trance. He did a double-take before she spoke once again.


    "His dead... b-body" Alice stuttered, and he hesitated before responding. "Guillerme... what... what happened to him... he-! H-He! And his organs!!! Why would you just cut Laz''s guts off!? Do you have ANY IDEA?!" Her anger seemed misplaced.


    He shook his head. "No... you''re mistaken..." He placed a hand of his upon her shoulder, her memory slowly seeping away as he ate the witness of a murder. "That, was a trick played on your mind by those foul spirits... "


    "But..!"


    "You mustn''t believe in anything but me... for I am all that is left." Such an easy lie. One could get lost if their life was like this, or if they had too many. The ''fear of existence'' wasn''t really something that could truly manifest itself upon such an advanced and knowledgeable being.


    Well, that was a thought that nobody could understand, if this was all he''d see, it''d be the first time. In reality, nobody was not experiencing the same thing, they would''ve probably come to an agreement over one single detail: The complexity of it all.


    What it comes down to is what we desire, what we hope will turn our fears and terrors into peace. Something that will make us feel good when we finish living, and then death can do us part. If it existed, well, that''s another question entirely.


    Look at it this way; people''s lives and consciousnesses can, at most, live forever, and then they''ll have achieved some sort of nirvana or ethereal state. Even if they only reach half of those kinds of states, or aren''t on the full spectrum, their eternal life can last long enough for one of them to ''wish to die'', to ''be done'' after a thousand years or several of ''ever-lasting torture'', as those terms are commonly misconceived and mixed with the concepts of these concepts.


    At some point, perhaps all life comes to a climax where no growth or further ''progression'' or ''release'' is required of their short, momentary lifetime. Thus, in the end, it is up to the gods to make all this meaningful for both themself and their mortal allies, perhaps they will become one with God.


    So this question has now entered his mind; does it matter anymore?


    Yes, it does. Now, all that''s left to do is to kill the Goddess, and show her his prowess. He''ll eat and gain all her wisdom, knowledge, and her strength.


    As a certain saying goes;


    "Lust destroys a man''s soul, Greed devours his dreams, but Fear breaks his will."


    Who is to say whether all three are right and all three are wrong...


    Perhaps the divine cannot have compassion.


    Just some contemplations for a Godless and hateful society like the current one.

 Faint of Heart, Faint of Thought

    For now, he will ask two more times, and when he runs out of questions he will simply keep asking. He''ll repeat himself a thousand times until the other cannot go without answers, and then the third time, the second will eventually admit defeat.


    ''Only a god may consume a god... and take their wisdom. This will happen to both Eskra and its residents, until the land turns to ash. Everything will vanish. Even the sun will fall onto the moon...''


    "Hey!" Someone shouted. "The fuck did you do to them?!" they said.


    ''Hmm?'' Zabulus turned around, only to be faced with an angered Vetro. ''Oh, its, just the idiot and the little one, but something''s off with them. No idea. No clue. Might have killed my future self, yeah...''


    "Answer me, you scum! I don''t care who, or why, or for what, answer me!!" he shouted and ranted at the figure. His vision wasn''t his best, he wasn''t even looking at the man''s face, let alone the colour of the skin, not to mention his hair. He didn''t notice his figure properly.


    Zabulus did not answer, he looked at Vetro''s face, emotionless and static as he stepped forward with a pensive attitude towards his demands and queries.


    "What are you afraid of?" Asked Vetro.


    "..."


    "Answer the damn question already! Are you deaf!? Stupid!? Come on!" Vetro became louder.


    ''Oh no no, I didn''t die and kill a random man, and I just spent hours digesting and remembering stuff, no, nothing happened. I can''t remember...''


    "Is it loneliness?"


    ''No.'' Then what was it?


    "What was it that made you this way?" The conversation''s angry atmosphere changed into something more like pity and sorrow. "Are you a monster that acts like a person? Or a person who acts like a monster?


    ''Is there a difference?'' No answer. No matter what questions were asked, no response came back from Zabulus. ''Neither is the case, though there is only one...''


    Vetro stood in silence. Just how much pain have you experienced? "How... How much have you only known desolation and terror and isolation and emptiness? A hole that only grew larger, is that what you are? Is that why you continue to subsume the soul? Because you fear the loneliness? The feeling of having nothing within you but this sense of evilness, of being able to do evil. And doing it without hesitation, that is what makes you act in such a manner? What could it possibly be?"


    "You have seen my life. I killed Anne, your child. I thought you knew everything, much like I did. Vetro... I spare you for reasons unknown to me. So please, no longer dare think it wise to treat me like a mortal or a youngling who cannot fend for myself. What can I say about the kid and the blonde girl here besides that they are important?" His response was akin to a lamb who wanted to die, with a mouthful of saliva mixed with his blood, or something else. But a defiant reply had to suffice for such a situation.


    "I don''t know anything about you... I only knew what I wanted to understand, I only saw you for evil, and evil is what you are. Yet, as we stand, I see a man that is no different than myself." A lamb who was already close to being torn and ripped apart... by its own actions. "Is there something else, that''s always been inside you? You can''t tell me the reason, can you?"


    "Something else? Is that the right words, perhaps, there was not always this thing inside. I never intended to..." He stopped his sentence short. "In order to get to know myself and all the secrets I carry, I did a deed." Though he thought a thing that would not reach Vetro. "Perhaps it is indeed that which will bring eternal life, a guarantee of the future, is that something that a deity cannot possess, or has it been left behind and forgotten? What do I know about all these gods?" He asked, perhaps himself, or Vetro.


    "Why are you so... obsessed with the gods, is that why you do what you do? Is it because you believe immortality will make you wiser? What about power then... if it''s the latter, wouldn''t the king of the world surpass every god and everything, becoming some form of new divinity himself? Why do you want the gods gone, if they are a lower power than you?"


    "Because... I..." He hesitated, as he always did, placing a hand on his empty eye socket. "I didn''t deserve this... I will not speak further, though." The empty socket leaked the tar, dark ichor, a dark blue hue. "All these ''gods'' do not exist, just a cycle that exists, they''re all a part of this world! I speak nothing but the truth, I do!"


    "You do not fear your memories, but instead of what lies ahead and what has happened, which is clear in the present. Whatever memory you carry has brought you to this conclusion of a ''perfect world'', isn''t it?"


    "No... you are mistaken... I could never come to this conclusion alone... nor will anyone or anything."


    "Well, do you want me to say that I think that you''re crazy then?"


    "If that''s what you truly think... then no. I want no such thing, only one other must judge me for it." His words came out of his mouth hollow, an obvious thing. A fact was this, an incontestable truth that anyone with basic awareness will accept it for the way things are.


    The environment around them soon dissipated and the scene of Zabulus'' home materialized. No doors, no walls. Just a cold, endless space filled with nothing but black and white. This was their end for now, so who was right?


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    Zabulus sighed, placing his hand over his eye sockets as if in shame, or to hide tears. "I''ll believe it all... all, as I always do. ....''s.... I''ll be gone now. Be sure to give my regards to her, when she wakes up. She did a pretty good job on hiding... yes she did..."


    "Where will you be going now?"


    "I''m unsure, but I know that I will face a god, I''m sure of it. Because-" His words, cut short by a cold snap that woke him up from sleep. Seems that nobody else was in control at this time.


    As the hours pass, he finds Alice stirring and stretching on a rather uncomfortable floor. It appears that no damage has occurred, nor have any mental effects befallen the pair. Perhaps because neither Guillerme nor Idalia have tried to escape, if they can. He heard a whisper from within his mind, it pleaded for him, to release itself. "Wait. Not yet."


    "Good morning."


    Alice rubbed her eyes, sniffing the air to see if it would reek of sulfur and muck or mud, before getting up and shaking, shivering from the chill of the evening and the harsh winds and droplets of rain and snow. They were gone. She just rubbed her bare arms in response.


    Why were they asleep on dirt and debris and some weird wooden stuff? Seemed as if she hadn''t the faintest of thoughts. "Guil¡ª" she yawned. "Why were we asleep here?"


    "What ARE we doing here?" He responded.


    She rubbed her arms and shivered, not noticing that her dress has become dirty with soil, leaving bits of grass on her shoulder. "Do you not recall anything?"


    "I don''t." For a moment, he paused before suddenly, a painful headache made itself known through his skull, his brain being crushed and pierced through, making his skull a thousand pieces upon the floor. As if the entire area within his mind had fallen and became a small explosion of blood, nearly blackening him.


    "Are you okay? Guil... Zabulus? Stop pretending, what the heck is the point if you''ll keep¡ª"


    "No... I''m just feeling unwell..." The amount of souls that were hosted in a single body were too much to handle for him at this point. It got to a point where his physical body had begun to be affected by the extra energy stored within, causing his insides to turn against themselves and decay. He fell down to his knees and clenched his stomach.


    Her hands began to stretch out towards Zabulus, urged to comfort him, but it soon dropped, in fear of the consequences that she could cause if she tried. it continued, the pains did not lessen.


    Her mouth twitched slightly and her gaze shifted, then dropped. She shook her head. "You... you really don''t remember anything? If you don''t then... we won''t know." She shrugged. "Ah! Damn, forgot Laz died because of... Laz... who was that... I remember a name, but...?" She was confused at her own words and naming of a person who did not exist.


    "Whom did you speak of, Alice? This name of which you seem to have forgotten, the name that is still there on your lips and in your heart," He groaned, before continuing, "do you recall it? Do you not?"


    "N-no, I think we met a child somewhere along the line." She began. "No, no... uh, heh... No, no we didn''t meet any children, it was..." The silence then grew tense. And her hand shook, seemingly without an idea. "Not here, not... here... no... yes. There, is what I''m thinking, yes." She stood up and wiped her face with a sigh, a quiet noise escaped her lips and a fluttering breeze passed through her cheeks and her cheeks started to color a brighter crimson hue. "Gu...Gwahaha." Her eyes had widened, her irises grew bright blue, an ethereal to them both. She laughed and laughed, a memory that no longer existed. Was it forgotten, or merely unimportant? It didn''t matter... "Maybe we just had some issues, don''t worry. It''s okay to forget."


    They remained silent, no sound but a distant rumbling could be heard. As the moment passed, they felt it, a sensation of intense danger that something bad was about to happen, something so godly yet mundanely monstrous was occurring before them, even more so for this existence, whatever it was. But the knowledge wasn''t within them.


    "Something will occur in a moment, a disruption. Nothing dangerous, of course, so please remain calm." Zabulus said. But Alice was completely calm. She had no worries about what would occur as she had trust in her strength, in her ability to protect Zabulus; Guillerme''s host.


    The sky grew dark from the previous blue hue that it once was, the clouds parted, a twinkling starlit heaven descended. It was no longer as sunny or cheery as the forest would have been, the sky grew colder, but was warm with a slight breeze that had caught them in its grasp, ruffling Alice''s hair further as a gust blew by. It was... ''unusual'', but in the way that made it appear as something of a miracle that should not be there, something that is not natural. As it should, all that the forest of Narshes contains is strange.


    A voice bellowed, a voice of a goddess, her voice that was as strong and vibrant as ever, ringing throughout the world could be no more, only to be a prison for her and the boy. And yet, it sounded almost dissonant compared to her body''s form.


    She had the head of a beautiful woman, the body of a goddess. One wing in particular had been mangled and bloody. An ugly wound that will certainly become a permanent feature of her body, as her skin, her wings and flesh has been cut off and melted together to resemble the inside of a living human. 12 legs, each foot ending with the claws of a different animal, which resembled the paws of a wolf or dog, along with an entire, 600-foot long body, coated with sleek, fur that glinted auburn and glimmering gold-colored scales along her back. It was ugly, to man. A blessing, to gods.


    As Alice and Zabulus moved further away from each other, the deity reached the forest and turned to the two, her large form appearing as a giant being as she glided closer from the skies above. She spoke a monologue; "Murderer of the Dragonkin, Ungraceful one, Demon of the gods. Abomination who wishes to see beyond the veil and will find out what they never wanted to know." The goddess knew that these names did fit the demon in front of her. "Never-dying... are you?" She taunted him. "Weakness."


    Zabulus smiled. He knew this was precisely what was to come. Stretching all four of his forearms outwards, as if to welcome an embrace from the goddess, he let her presence through his soul. His thoughts were more distinct than ever before, each word spoken carrying a different weight as he did with Idalia''s, another difference was that of an innocent one, to a criminal, a killer who only cared for his survival and self-preservation.


    What he knew though, was not what would occur after meeting a god.


    A godless man he was, even if his soul carried a host of others'' wisdoms. "Come. Make me weak."


    She could sense his sincerity, yet, that was not what worried her.


    What worried her, was the presence that emanated from him, was his pride, his soul. Something which has gotten stronger.


    "My name." The god''s body went tense as the name entered her ear, resonated and flowed through the currents, causing her whole being to change slightly in terms of physiognomy and morphology, her inner form shifting with it. "Z¡ö¡ö¡ö¡ö, a pleasure."

 Foolhardy And Inclined To Pettiness

    "Z... What? Mortal demon, you dare not lie to my might! I have seen it all, you escape the grasp of death, tarnish the body of those whose purity has not become a defilement. You were merely a youth, yet now you act with the mind of one who believes himself to be something more, more worthy of an apology, or something more. What your feelings are about us being in contact are none of our concern! A stupid soul with a half-empty glass would be no use for me to consort to such ideas anyway."


    "Was this conversation between you and yourself really necessary? I feel your uncertainty, even your arrogance, Eskra..." He spoke with a voice that echoed. The memories that dwelled within him made his position even more tenable, his smile creeping. As always, the many souls within his soul decided to speak to him, words of warning, cheering words and else.


    Her features seemed to take on a soft and unrefined look as her neck flexed while looking over the landscape. Even the thing-ish goddess seemed somewhat moved horribly by his words. "My first impressions of the mortals always carry an expectation of irrationality, cowardice, foolishness, impulsiveness... Are you certain, though, that I''ve somehow acquired something that the gods do not, something which they already possess, have and keep as a trait? Are you so in-your-face as to say such things, do you truly believe such a foolish concept will ever come true?" With the statement out of her mouth, her gaze then flitted off to the scenery for a brief second. "This is a mortal thing that one cannot ask of a god... and should they accept the responsibility of the question, such a thing could have profound repercussions that they themselves could not ever dream to imagine..."


    Alice spoke, as if to defend Zabulus or otherwise, "And who are you to decide who is ''brave''? You''d be insulting yourself as a ''coward'' would, wouldn''t you?"


    Her gaze averted to her right arm and then to her back and wings, and lastly down, where her focus was firmly on the ground as she said, "I cannot understand how simple it is to not understand how horrible the act of losing one''s nerve in the face of death, pain, uncertainty and a bleakness of hope is. To fall, break apart, cease to be whole again... have you never felt human before... no, perhaps an inkling that you are still bound by these things, no, such foolishness would lead into a lack of judgment."


    Zabulus was impressed by her thorough words, as to him, they sounded as something that Idalia would have told him. In a way, he saw a similarity between the two. He shifted back towards the goddess, preparing to speak, "I¡ª"


    Woooosh...


    Alice whirred past as she used up a major force in her legs to propel her forwards. With immense speed, she performed a hard roundhouse kick into the deity, its'' jaw snapped to the side, her eyes flashing with recognition. Zabulus stared wide-''eyed'' at her movement, the speed, which surprised him as her hunger began to make itself apparent.


    "You mongrel! How dare you defile my body!!" She yelled at her. As the creature started to go berserk and lose control of itself, the close range attack threw her off balance for a moment.


    "Her eyes might light a jade on her flesh and paint a clear sky."


    "...!?"


    The next thing she knew was pain. Her skin split into tendrils, slicing the goddess'' underbelly in two, revealing the tender, juicy insides. As if Alice had just uncovered a treasure that not even a pirate king could possibly fathom. The lifeblood, the precious bodily fluids that flowed, however, didn''t seep and flow downward as gravity dictated, it instead moved up. Its essence dissipated, creating a great commotion of life that would enthrall any witness, or endanger them... It moved downwards, into the tear and stopped for a moment to gain momentum. As if... it was alive. Something started to itch, twitch and twist around near that wounded underbelly of hers. It was as if someone was gargling water, yet spitting it out repeatedly. A gutteral noise could be heard, growing louder by the second, until the sharp, bitter sound pierced the air. A deafening roar of flesh from deep within was enough to split the land beneath them, a powerful heat emanating from the soul and reaching the ears of the people of Eskra. The moving, itching, twitching, twisting and spasming was getting more aggressive and lively by the second, followed by the crumbling noise of the ribs and organs crackling apart... Something is coming out... something hideously vile has come to fruition. Akin to a maggot the size of a human''s thumb, it wiggles and squirms its way up through a sizable hole in her ribcage... before violently prying the gap further. Crack... It grows. Her skin sinks and crawls around and around her belly, continuously forming black scales.


    To anyone, it''d be repulsive. Alice thought not of it, her expression unchanged despite the flinch, but moreover, she only watched, her head throbbing, unable to comprehend what it is that''s happening. Whatever happened next, must be done soon and immediately.


    Eskra groaned in agony and lifted a lower fore-foot, grabbing Alice and holding her back from the insectile creation with a tendril. Gripping her tightly in a strangling grip, Eskra growled and chittered at her enemy, a hollow noise that came out with great difficulty, similar to the screeching of the same creatures that she has created.


    "How unsightly. Even in the face of such a disgusting foe, not to mention being forced into such a dire strait. You''d think this would cause you, not your powers but rather your sentience, to be able to crack your skull and cut your throat or put a spear through your mouth to your brain, letting that maggot, that impregnating slug, rot you out from the inside? But you simply remain calm." Despite his calm and cool attitude, he felt a little anxious. Maybe not a little, but to a point where his hypothetical eyes were about to pop out of his skull.


    Alice was whipped around, turning around to face her captor. As she grew enraged, the goddess-slug-thing noticed her displeasure and grimaced before whispering something under her breath. In doing so, a gigantic yellow eye spawned from her waist, an eye that could blink and breathe fire on the creature; it seemed to have the powers and abilities akin to that of a god. Her mandibles pulled a sickly blackened blue pus which, upon contact with the air, oozed from its small body and disappeared. It caused a noxious gas to burst forth in droves, the two exuded an overpoweringly potent fragrance, however, their weapons did not flinch from the scent. It had no effect on Alice''s sight, but it hindered Zabulus considerably. Not that he had any sight to speak of, but seeing that he could not observe or discern either of the parties'' expressions from the gas, it gave Eskra a chance to speak with Alice. "Should you wish to break free from this trance-like state, merely will me to let you go, and I will comply without hesitation, although should this require too much effort or work then I will simply comply by crushing you between my jaws, shattering and pulverizing your frail flesh. If I let you go and you or that demon returns, then I shall be forced by my oath, upon my immortality to murder the lot of you, especially you. Are you listening? Then reply to me, young one. Tell me what ails your eyes..."


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    She did not have an answer, nor did she appear to know what was in front of her. The frail girl flicked her eyelids open as the beast spoke. Her gaze wandered upwards, but as soon as she set eyes upon its, the beast called ''Eskra'' spoke once again. "Are you injured anywhere... or are you ill and feverish which renders you unable to speak? I believe not to have injured you." It was as if a mind, maybe from a beast or a god, spoke in two.


    Alice furrowed her brow and snarled at Eskra with an angry yet confused look on her face, though Eskra only bore a puzzled expression on her face. To Zabulus, it was nothing but confusing, he could not see an inch in front of himself, he could not hear a sound. His senses had become an enemy within, every noise in the world was nothing but a gargle of insanity to him. It was deafening. Nothing could be done. Yet, some small part of him expected his lack of sensation to come with ease and calmness, the sight of ''nothing'' allowed him a greater understanding, for which there are no words to speak of, there were just other types of ''perception'', there was still time left. So why should he stop?


    But this was not to be taken lightly... This was all too difficult, almost to the point of giving up and dying. Almost.


    ''Impossible..''. Words did not come, in fact, every voice in the entire soul fell silent and only echoed through the trees and auricle, fading, with barely any sense left.


    Alice was rendered incapable of moving as all her limbs were locked in a single stiff and uncomfortable position by the tendrils of Eskra, the goddess-monster that lay its long tendrils into her own head, all eight limbs pulsating and trembling while struggling to remain intact. These limbs in particular looked as if they had never stopped dancing, some looked like they could fly, float, and the odd ones out looked like they would destroy anything and everything. The rest shifted inwards and outwards, for a lack of better words, all at the same speed. There was a sort of smelling like salt water, metal, and burning, the kind that leaves a smoky, acidic aftertaste and smell in your mouth and nose, but a strong, unique one that would leave others reeling in disgust, thinking of something horrible... A repulsive, unsightly color as well, blacker and greener than dirt, a consistency more liquid-like than muddy or molded.


    ''She needs to be saved...!'' The congested mind spoke.


    Vetro cackled in response, a hoarse, hysterical laugh came out of him which was loud enough to be heard clearly by Zabulus as if he was right next to him, ''Look at that fucking idiot! Look at how his ego has utterly consumed him and filled his skull!'' he added, to which the brain could only let him sit and watch the helpless fool. ''Strange, though, that she is being restrained and forced to stay still. How about some penance, now. For her sins.'' The demented fool held an expression similar to an expressionless maniac whose face was slack, eyes not present nor filled with any light, the face of death.


    "Hah. So you say. To tell me to face a god, yet call upon penance? Do you take me for a fool?" He managed to stand back up with weak footing and clenched his four fists. The blood that surrounded him, encased him like a coffin, creating a crimson shade upon the darkness surrounding him. Although that was barely his imagination that helped him appear majestic, his eyes did not meet with the same image. Nothing but the world''s pain was present here. For him to feel the warmth of its burning blood that scalded his naked flesh was no less painful for him than the blinding cold that permeates through every pore. It wasn''t exactly possible for any sane individual to escape unscathed, besides him.


    Although he could see, it was only ever-so-slightly. Slight enough for him to see the white, somewhat muted figure of what he presumed as a human, not moving an inch from where it stood, as if he didn''t exist... It was eerie and extremely disquieting, his first instinct, obviously, was to slowly move away and stay as far from the creature''s view, but he felt an oddly odd fear deep within him, something akin to an emotional response to his gut-deep instinct which he normally didn''t exhibit. However, instead of choosing the relatively easy and less suspicious path by stepping back, he took a bold and desperate action and started walking away as quickly as his tired legs allowed.


    Although he was confident in his speed, the blood kept streaming downward in a never-ending stream that filled his body with nervous energy, his thoughts kept racing faster and faster along with his own breath that increased with the rate. When he arrived, and went forth with his little trek, his legs completely gave out. He had no idea why... but he was simply so hungry that he lost all his strength. Barely enough to breathe.


    As his ''vision'' cleared up, he was at a cliff, cut right like a straight line, though he was sure he didn''t simply jump to get a better view... did he really not know where he was going? At first he wanted to investigate what was in front, but then suddenly decided not to do it.


    Despite his choice not to, the vision forced itself into his sight. A giant, gaping eye, 8 tendrils, holding Alice from her limbs. 12 legs, 2 heads... the unidentifiable features. Was it a snake-head? Scorpion? Crab? Frog-fish? Centipede? Unknown?


    Suddenly the ''eye'' turned toward him and then peered straight at him and he swallowed.


    Gulp.


    His stomach began to burn. A bad feeling spread throughout his whole body. He tried his best to withstand it, but even the numbness was beginning to make its way down his throat. The eye stared, unnaturally moving to focus on him, and its appearance seemed to suddenly change... its acute, pointed pupil and soft iris were nothing but pure gold, an orange hue to them, reflecting a red light in it, creating an unearthly effect upon its golden, smooth irises. A pupil slit, blackness deeper and denser than pitch black ink. That feeling wouldn''t go away. It wasn''t like a prick or a pressure in his throat, but more like a horrible nausea... a heavy, awful nausea, almost making him choke himself when he breathed.


    The thing was at a size where his brain should be ready to collapse. Despite it, his vision, although greatly hampered, was beginning to return, albeit distorted... not at a hundred percent yet... no, closer to 65 or 70% perhaps.


    "Ah, there you are." It bellowed. He wasn''t sure anymore whether he was looking at Eskra or a different entity all-together, "I''ve had a little chat with this young lady here... so, may I speak with you?" It said in a voice that imitated a cutesy type... trying to trick and entice him into speaking. No doubt, a dangerous deity. But was it the Goddess he needed to meet?


    "No. Please do. Go on. Talk, speak... How did you learn this knowledge? As in who was the one who showed you these powers?" She asked, a question that would seem inoffensive in general. But, if he responded truthfully, it would give Eskra the excuse and opportunity to hunt him and his soul. So, even if a response came, he needed to lie... truth would not be, and never was an option.

 Memory and Reality, Both Are Not Beautiful in The Eyes of The Mind

    "I¡ª" was a word he did not have to utter. Her ''foe''s'' gaze had already revealed itself, not that she was a hard one to find, he was standing at her feet. No real signs of intelligence, yet in the most extraordinary of ways, her knowledge and intellect far surpass that of even Idalia, who knew all and more than mortals can ever begin to comprehend... and knew something, anything or even everything... or did she know that too? And was waiting to show him as a way for him to, without using it for any form of usefulness, be overwhelmed by his greed for knowledge. This might have applied to Idalia, but to her and the unknown goddess, that was another question, perhaps not even able to be answered. So how many times did one question or ask or even just think these questions, always bearing a risk? Who knows.


    "You?" He blinked, surprised by his own sudden inability to say his sentence''s first word. This may be important, but alas. He was being assaulted, made paralyzed by something he couldn''t quite put his finger on, however, he decided on that instead of questioning it any further, or asking him why he was keeping his silence, or perhaps, merely taking a quick mental nap to prevent him from saying or doing anything foolish.


    A heavy feeling, that is to say, a pain. "Can you comprehend things around you that cannot be seen? Can you see that which is Beyond... a Rapture to the eye and mind? Ha! Of course you cannot, you have no eyes to speak of!" She laughed to herself as her tendrils got a tighter grip on Alice''s frail body and shook her.


    ''Fuck...'' He cursed under his breath. The humiliation he was facing was nothing that his mother would put him through; he thought. This goddess... No, this monster had to be an anomaly in his creation, a caricature of what they once were. An outlier, of what he knew to be gods. But how could the ones born from his emotions, those like him and Idalia, allow for such a mistake to happen, such a mistake could have happened on a planet such as, maybe the little construct he came from. Or maybe a reality, the goddess was a stranger, and thus had a personality different from himself. An alien that protruded into his mind, such visions that shouldn''t and must not have existed to him were made a reality.


    As for the sounds and speech patterns, the language consisted mostly of noises resembling clicks and a little bit of snickering and chittering, plus occasional mutterings. That''s how the goddess sounded to him, however, he managed to grasp the meaning of those clicks, those snickers, that chittering and the mutterings. A little thing, no?


    "Ha ha..." He giggled, looking at a nonexistent sky and trying to imagine it, again, a pathetic, absurd-to-normal humans, attempt that seemed to gain her attention, yet didn''t earn a second of hesitation. "I learned this power because I chose to..." He found the words, yet in his mind, this reply wouldn''t do, too straightforward, simple-minded and clear, so it''s better to be more elaborate in his story. "The information itself will likely overwhelm and trouble you. Maybe kill you in the process..." A bitter, unsatisfied expression, yet her face was calm. Was his choice correct? He didn''t know what she would have done in his shoes, so it made it all-the-more difficult for him to find the proper words.


    "Demon, you have merely lived for less than 5000 years... which isn''t a terribly long amount of time. Tell me. I''ll overlook this lapse, demon, so have your ''freedom'', for as much it''s worth." An indignant response, not wrong, not right, it held a power of conviction and strength, a sharp, piercing look filled the empty shell. As if a blade aimed at him, its edges didn''t glisten, their steel was dull and bleached. But he was strong. Not as he was before, the tears of his wounds, now seeping with some foreign liquid... wounds? Where did they come from?


    "Huh...?" This caught him off guard. Yes. His surroundings have begun to change, ever so slightly, but nothing like that before. What before was simply nothingness, an endless void in a blur, with random flickers and shadows flashing in and out of existence. Shadows that resembled a hunchback ape in a thick cape, humanoid and only vaguely monstrous, wielding a heavy knife in one hand. Then another, a clawed ape with red fur, though these two beasts were simple examples, it was by no means limited to such monsters.


    As a means to an end, a price of sorts for living outside a created world, or an otherworld... were such a thing existed, the void had these shapes that represent a deity of a kind, a spirit. Someone, or a species that knew these things all and more, they know ones present and past, some even knew one''s future, for all that it is worth.


    A sense of rapture had long since fled and its loss replaced the good, the comforting, with a void of his mind... A void, in a nutshell, a kind of world without boundaries and limits and restraints... with no consequences and a perfect reality. What it left behind is the ideal. Perfect harmony in an infinite world. But those words would simply be what he saw and understood, he knew more, but how can one say it without giving away the nature of that?


    It simply could not be said.


    "AAAAGGGHHHH!!" But someone tried nonetheless. He didn''t notice the screams and growls of pain which were his own, anger and bitterness escaping the deities mouth, not hearing his agonizing cries as his mind shattered and was destroyed once, twice. How does he remember those voices and their emotions? How would that voice and those emotions help him figure out how to even ''hide'' those thoughts? They came in broken memories, of fragmented memories that had been ripped apart and sewn back together, mixed and shoddily put together. Wishing to be a person again, yet all he was made of were patches and holes, it was ridiculous to him, even in death he could not fully join. But he was happy in the process... In all those attempts. He learned more and gained more control of himself and his domain, a domain that became the last hold he had against the reality outside himself...


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Vision. Returning to him as if nothing had happened, that world-splitting headache gone. The darkness crept along his shadow, it swallowed him. Those pains were now more muted and dull as the pain had already permeated deep within. Blood was nowhere and such screams of agony were gone too.


    A sigh escaped one of Eskra''s many mouths, "Sigh... can''t handle the sight of a goddess'' beautiful form, how disgustingly ordinary of you. Indeed, you things are fragile, vulnerable things with poor control over themselves, not suited for the divinity that the other, lesser gods offer them." As she spoke, a snap could be heard and the deity''s neck cracked. More flexibility gained in the matter of an instant. The flesh around her head sagged. However, the Goddess wasn''t shaken up. "Ha, do you think this is an easy task?" It snapped once again, its fingers then rubbing her hands around the tendrils on its arm. It was... a confusing sight regardless, as he mentally still had not recovered from just a few moments ago. "How was it, the sight of the dimension of the Rapture? Not pretty? Not good for an orthodox mind like you?" The creatures that adorned her skin in the void, their tiny bodies quivering from their muscles spasms, mouths hanging open, their bones began to squirm as if they were actually alive, tentacles extending and flopping against their scales.


    The creature¡ªEskra, still appeared to want answers from him. Some part of her mind took his words of the ''rude'' tone of voice, while some part was annoyed by it. But Alice was fed up at this point, as much as she was scared or hesitant, she had taken it upon herself to find a solution or an answer of sorts... Even if it did mean going against something as unrelatable, powerful and terrifying to her, let alone human society, the world of gods, a dangerous entity beyond measure, compared to a human as her, even if her hunger and physical prowess grew by the second. ''What have I done? Why is my god...'' she wondered if this was her ''plan'' from the start.


    "...what?" Eskra responded. She had no clue on her facial features as of yet. "I can hear your thoughts too, you know? You might not be one of my kin... however, those who live within and make that forest and its woods a home will be marked down. Be careful." As a reminder to her presence, an eye and 8 tendrils materialized around her.


    But Alice could care less for what Eskra had said and did. She would definitely understand if the goddess truly ended to harm her. However the goddess saw that Alice was more of a victim and an asset to Zabulus, rather than a true friend. But, how could Alice know all the things about her and that such things were more than just facts to her? ''Indeed.'' Alice would think indeed. A useless thought in her mind that meant nothing.


    Eskra returned her attention to him and closed all eyes simultaneously. "As for the ''Rapture'', ''memory'' and ''lucidity'' will refer to it..." With the small gesture of ''head turning towards him'' on the goddess'' part, her whole being began to shift as it caused the land and trees around her to simply disintegrate, turning into practically nothing.


    ''What is she talking about... I don''t... understand... '' What an odd question and statement it was for her to make, the ground around Zabulus became almost smooth to walk on. What does she even mean to say when her memory is bad and even fuzzy? At least he thought.


    He mustered a little courage to speak, as if to try to be cautious, "Say, goddess. Has a tree become a house? Have you ever visited that tree house? The question may seem random to ask you, but it was related to a different... well, I can''t exactly say... ''quiet'' world I had found, with another tree in its roots being inhabited and cared for. This is due to me being some wayward soul, a demon you call, I''ve done this before and many have commented on me lacking intelligence, sometimes acting and speaking like a fool, there''s a reason why it''s called ignorance." The main root cause behind that was that he was often lacking the right mindset for anything or even how to simply live life.


    She realized something then and there, being visible in all her pupils dilating, even the thin film over her eyeballs became translucent, letting him and Alice see her retina and blood vessels. The wind whipping through her clothing and the scent of pine and leather filling their nostrils. Tickling and touching them was a constant and agitating feeling. It was easy enough to handle in one place, but to keep her gaze upon him in the forest was different. He needed a hiding place. Something else must have been distracting her, causing the goddess to remain focused, whether her fear of her domain changing or her frustration, it was surely something, something that was both spineful and fearful, if it could make a goddess'' pulse flutter with anxiety and apprehension...


    Why is this happening again... ''Again''.


    ''Memories'' flooded back, no, not memories. Minds did.


    A thousand nanoseconds had passed, a heresy upon a ''breathe-worthy'' existence, yet eternity flowed ever so gracefully between the lines of time and space, even faster than the blinking of an eye and the breath of an ordinary man.


    A hundred nanoseconds had passed, a treachery upon the passage of time, the way we perceived it. If each heartbeat of a human was 1.577e+9 seconds, then the last century was nothing but a full two heartbeats, however, a lifetime and age came into question, and whether an eternity had the same value as it was considered ''lifespan''.


    Ten nanoseconds passed, a prideful epoch, a monotonous day and night, a whole existence measured with a heartbeat. It was difficult and not very accurate to determine whether his time had passed and it''s value for him changed and diminished, not really all that hard, more than an actual mortal that is, though they did die earlier than him, so he must have forgotten some of his previous lives. It was most certainly more than a millennium. Was it... had it been?


    A nanosecond passed, he was reborn, his father would raise him alongside another woman, who will play as his mother. His new brother had been born some years ago... his father became a farmer, yet a third pregnancy was somehow confirmed and a sister came along...


    All of this, was a meaningless, false memory.

 Forgotten Are The Voices Around Us, But I Cannot Hear Them

    Waves, such waves came from above, a smooth, black substance spreading as far as the horizon could possibly permit, at the back of him was a gigantic tidal wave that was still somewhat small in comparison with what came above. He began to shudder, that giant tidal wave had just hit him with a wave of freezing cold and burning water. That surge crashed onto the rock formations and started lapping at him. When that giant wave settled and dropped off, the cold, almost unbearable, biting cold, and the pressure would continue to assault his lungs until he drew his last.


    To see how little of it survived, one must first imagine that great monster atop him, looming. Although he¡ªNo¡ªEverything else would perceive it as ''piercing-at-the-brain-stabbing''. Then the floor would begin to vibrate. They looked up. And¡ªOh heavens!¡ªNot just to the eyes... it shook all. Now you understand, knowing the shape above?


    With an increased force, the surface exploded in a loud BANG¡ªBLAST¡ªDOOH... Toyed with. Tortured. Granted a new birth. Everything had happened, the pain, the damage that had been done to him in that single moment... how the waves would slap onto his skin, crack his skull, and break his ribs. But instead of dying, he lived it all. Lived it in that eternal moment of hell. That monstrous, sublime pain would then take its toll on him, its torture becoming too much.


    The goddess looked at him. Though her gaze looked upon him and took into him. "Hehe..." She giggled like a greasy fat-faced girl-child, her hideously putrid figure sneering a devilish smirk upon the broken mans mind. Her pupils seemed like great bottomless pits, endless depths which devoured... an odd shade to her irises a wide red, the veins at the center of them popped, looking bloated and bruised as if her heart were about to explode. Her crooked spine twisted back slightly.


    The hideous image burned itself into his Oh-so-shallow thoughts, ever a conscious figure; however, was never strong, instead weak, wailing and mewing before a vulture circled it... before the death came to an end. He thought he had had enough. But, however much he wished for it, his death never came. A pleasure and pain mixed in his broken frame and he made his voice of annoyance heard, the most important thing being that it sounded relatively strong. In fact, it sounded incredibly powerful... as much as it was a lie.


    Alice, who was tied by incredibly long tendrils, had witnessed this ''battle'' between ''them''. She was sure the outcome had already been settled in Eskra''s favor. It would only be a matter of a few breaths, possibly mere moments and all of ''it'' would be gone. What were the reasons, the goddess might simply have no concern regarding the state of its body. If not, Eskra merely could simply continue it and add to its misery in that hellscape, probably then tearing his ''soul'' to pieces with her tendrils, or perhaps playing with his organs. However, the reality that he saw or what seemed to be so, had already proven that ''other than death'' was nowhere to be seen. A despair settled within his face, was he completely losing? He definitely was.


    Headache, headaches. The sheer pain numbed his sensations and the horrible gut wrenching screams began to flow down and echo throughout the place, all-hearing. What could a deity do? The goddess will undoubtedly hear its cry of rage and suffering, right? Or was she simply too-into the torture that she lost sight of the beauty that she was representing, so foolishly enamored by a mortals pain that she did not realize her mistake? Yes, she was beautiful and powerful, but... Can gods understand emotion? Empathy? Even if a creature is afraid, what is the difference when a being dies?


    No, they can''t. If so, it''ll likely go about as ''idiotic'' and ''basic'' as it does, trying to become a savior in her mind and trying to use her pain to justify the brutality and cruelty, then ''stop and show mercy''. But that will prove her greatest failure of all, losing this battle without realizing it... Or just forget about mercy and pity to this mortal. Not the latter. Yet, if the rest was possible, how she didn''t notice it would probably lead him and others to know how much less of a being she is, one more shallow and one-sided than anyone... except Alice who might just view her in some sort of goddess-status.


    Not that either matters.


    One would naturally think and find it quite normal to assume that gods have complete control over their physical emotions and powers; yet they would still experience and show all sorts of signs of high tension and conflict in their soul and spirit, along with despair, emptiness, frustration and hatred. But only a rare god would truly possess this... one would think. If gods were to be the true creators of all, then what existed, and what they were before, is nothing short of inhuman in its nature. They''ve got no humanity or anything remotely near it. So, do they understand humans? To be understood, are those born, self-made? Or is the act of understanding and creating the perfect knowledge, an understanding only found in self?


    If gods possessed ''self'' to begin with, can they comprehend each other''s souls, or are gods simply no longer able to comprehend the worlds that they themselves once helped to create? He remembered everything... including a child whose dream was to run and grow with everyone else, was to escape the bonds of the land. A hollow dream as is any ''living'', and everything was limited. Some will consider her ability the most sacred among all her followers, like a ''servant'' to the heavens and gods. Is it not ridiculous to see someone with such ability being kept a secret from others, while heretics freely spread knowledge and the fact?


    Such people could no longer believe that the ability to control any gods... or even move them or cast them into a realm were to occur in their lifetime. Especially in this era, in this life of everything wonderous, yet horrific.


    Another thought brought him to a vision, back to where he had left off in the void. Back to the present, with its absurd and unbelievably vibrant hues of reality and abstractness, so utterly pristine and sharp.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Eskra seemingly stopped all her movement, as he no longer felt any pain. At least he thought to himself, he felt he couldn''t breathe anymore, even if he still stood on that same spot. And if he fell, or closed his eyes, the sensation of her presence would now completely and fully be there.


    Back then he knew nothing, it was easier to shut his mind and ''mute'' any of her ideas, not have a purpose, a life of living to go with. He was such a fool, he was. A half-witted individual that''s worth nothing and was only made up of blood, organs, flesh, and muscle.


    Alice was ''released'' by the tendrils, but gently. No signs of that obsessive torture of the goddess, no... it was rather unlike her personality... She appeared too relieved, too happy for any good purpose or situation, although she was a known beautiful creator, or rather... she was. She now appeared to have completely changed personalities and attitudes.


    She floated past his body, smiling... saying ''You''ve done very well, though your soul and blood have drained. Do not return here again; for you would know better than to be an idiotic heretic or a greedy soul.'' He hated that. That entire sentence she had uttered without batting an eyelash. Every word that flowed out of her mouth was complete nonsense, like a nonsense novel written by some writer in history who didn''t really need that genre or needed a surrealistic story and concept, who wrote merely for the sake of having words on paper, or his work simply went under appreciated by most people. Although that outcome itself should have been expected when he didn''t really care in the first place. He was filled with an odd sort of resentment and sadness, despite him having died many times.


    So much regret. Regret from the decision.


    "The many secrets she held could have possibly helped him gain new light towards his immortality." This statement spoken out by Eskra was uttered as a side comment, something one can call it ''parting words'', even if said after his little period of life-degrading.


    At this time, they can come around an actual truth. An eye opened up with two feet attached to its eyelashes, tendrils creeping outward in every direction from them. As if telling them to ''scram'', their being just an unpleasant memory... though their meaning was quite the opposite to Alice.


    "Heretical mortal, you are." An idea suddenly entered Alice''s mind as those words were once again uttered. She grabbed Zabulus by the waist and held him like a newborn, swiftly, moving forward and into the thick tendrils, chewing and spitting them out towards the ground which was smudged with dirt, for there are no marks from Alice''s fingers left behind. Their surroundings rapidly faded to shades, slowly, only shades remained visible... a low wind blowing through Alice, with a deep whisper of some sort that didn''t make sense to her, nevertheless... She chose a direction, any direction, not letting her memories confuse her, they didn''t necessarily lead her into a disaster. ''In those pasts, are remnants of old desires, ones that can''t be realized easily...'' A thing spoke.


    "What do you mean... by that?" Alice would ask that.


    Zabulus suddenly recovered.


    ''...and as I went and arrived... There was nothing for me, apart from suffering a feeling like death itself is trying its hardest to escape its shell and try to change me. Cocooned, I should have been, it did feel more similar and like a process of gestation. All around me, darkness engulfed and consumed it all.'' The strange voice murmured softly and peacefully.


    She noticed, she did. The voice that spoke to her, came from nobody but her own.


    ''The darkness ate and ate, I could no longer speak... In reality, maybe it was nothing more than my lack of patience, though, there is more.'' Said the voice.


    She wished that it would shut up. For if this was the moment for it to speak; how greatly stupid would that be? This creature, whatever or whoever it was, they must''ve had no reason for trying to fool or convince her...


    ''Only darkness, it comes forth. It comes through, destroying everything. Have you known that the darkness grows strong, only because the light lets it? Although darkness is created, it should never hold the right to overtake and become more potent than its opposite counterpart. If this world was filled with no more than the two, I believe that the balance may hold far better and a stable and proper sense. One must not always give credit for the victors. Besides, what need is there to rejoice with, if they are winners, just winners of death?''


    It continued, speaking in a rhythm. Rhythm, pace and time are all constant in every kind of speaking, not just talking... for now and all eternity. Alice continued running as she chowed through the tendrils to infinity.


    "..."


    Finally, the void in blue came to view, a quick moment, followed by some drops of sweat formed in her pores. The small, slight taps of sweat and other fluids formed from skin. Then, came another glimpse of the divine beast-goddess, it flashed through the darkened sky as an outline with no colors. The orange, purple, and yellows¡ªmuddles, ever so rapidly flew in and out.


    "Alice, to your left." Zabulus said, though this seemed more like a lie. ''But I won''t fall for the damn trap.'' This was simply impossible. Why and for what good purpose would he need to bring and lie to her now, while in peril and endangered?


    She turned to her left, and just as she did, the path she was on would cave in on itself; she''d have sunk down if it wasn''t for Zabulus.


    ''Just one more, do you not know?'' Zabulus spoke, with an expression that could mean much and more, he looked troubled, or at the very least, on edge, despite him and being out of touch with it all still.


    As she kept running, no more words from her were shared, although his words sounded like nonsense, somehow... oddly enough, that wasn''t exactly incorrect. "...I can trust you." How had these words come into her head? Trust, could this really be called ''trust''? It did seem absurd and beyond fathoming. Perhaps it was only the remains of something before his personality and existence merged with that of ''normal''.


    What could be defined as trust between them, is a leap of faith into an ocean of rage and silence, or the feeling of pain and dejection and knowing what is ahead for you. Whatever it is, however and however much she wants it... the feeling or experience that is felt and could happen, could never and could never will get into her soul, insanity has driven them both to the point of leaving reason to itself and not only Zabulus, but she''s definitely turning insane, what they were once sure about being certain had become like a door, not as a stepping stone, or as an excuse.

 Importance Of The Past We Do Not Recall

    Vision distorted, a clear window to the memories of her long forgotten childhood. Not forgetting them, just locking them away... her life lived on as if she was an average person, not special at all, just the oddball and outcast that got to where she was now by some strange circumstance. Nothing more and nothing less, is that the story her mind was thinking, subconsciously creating her? Or maybe, an event that will change things, cause a twist of fate, like so that those in power may notice and feel a pang in their hearts for this woman, who lived her entire life doing nothing but finding or causing trouble, to suddenly not act so oddly and act like a complete normal woman, and behave normally as a person. No need for fancy behavior, mannerisms and or sophistication to the extent of being akin to a nun of god''s, no need for such. An uncommon goal is to find ''family'', yes a family she desires.


    Someone. To be one to be a whole. Yes. Wasn''t that simple?


    It was as if a vulture suddenly broke the sky with its shrill call of life, a mere gurgle would have caught its attention. Indeed the cry would break one''s ears, would shatter their soul. Even if they are immortal and cannot truly feel the despair of their screams, not truly hear the call that she and they could make, no one would be spared its torment, regardless of their fate, or their rank. Yes. This vulture could change the lives of even the mightiest. The monster of heaven above the seas, as they say it. Akin to a vulture, she was given her chance to soar the skies, see the beauty in the vast blue void and learn. ''One cannot escape what will occur. Nothing can alter the future. Just don''t mess up and make the mistake you did when you made the plunge.''


    The air, when they jumped down onto the vast and colorful beach, a mirror for the moonlit skies, seemed to instantly solidify, freezing instantly, before melting just as fast, leaving her body sticky and dirty, feeling dry and pained. To be useful for just a tiny moment, her body couldn''t bear its weight anymore and collapsed, vomit pouring all over her clothes and the warm, salty brine tasting water hitting her skin and lungs.


    Yet, as she tried to stand upright, it gave up on her. Wasted no more strength. Though all she remembered was being suffocated with air, not even one, not even her friend could have looked on with disgust and hatred.


    Indeed, all it had caused was chaos and mess, yet there she was, trying to be serious as ever and she looked like shit, drowning in an endless tide of water and all the sand and salt stinging her skin. What caused such behavior to take its turn on her... surely not an afterthought, the feeling and experiences could have become nothing, worthless and pointless to her. Yet the emotion and experience left upon her would fade... If she dies.


    How about trying to attempt something of worth?


    This ''vision'', could it be a hint toward her subconscious or one''s own thoughts? Or is it possible and might indeed be one''s own creation... There cannot be more than one. But not being able to prove oneself could prove difficult. If so, all can only be surmised as a fleeting moment with no true meaning or use, could simply be for ''motivation and learning'' or to at least hold a solid concept of strength. For her part, she''d just rather it just a test of survival skills and awareness.


    That''s the best she could do.


    Any dream-like image or hallucination of visions, with knowledge and sights not accessible by any mortal or human means, shouldn''t have this nature about it. That way is fine. ''Death'' is not an easy option. So much emphasis put on it... and yet so few of those ''exiled'' would see it through. Why does that feel so unfeasible, in every situation, regardless if it is the first or tenth time they encounter this ''knowledge''? Does everyone ''seem'' not to have any form of memory, when they possess knowledge of the language and see something within them? Is it the moment they die or the second they''ve awakened and know too well the significance of it trespassing and traveling inside the soul? No. Then why is the emphasis placed on it?


    Then there should not be this question...


    If the entity can remember, and the last bit of clarity still rings within him and keeps him thinking... then Alice, herself, would probably end up succumbing to the insanity that ''awakening'' grants her and creates, all her will and vigor, gone. Thus, the insanity that Eskra warned and knows about can become her truth.


    "The truth is ugly." Eskra commented, this statement seemingly pointless, completely out of context and unrelated, in a way, yes. Something to be reflected upon by the two people. However, it has gained and already became clear knowledge to them, and to a larger amount and greater extent, has become their foundation and way. Their true existence was altered to their worst possible degree, without giving them the chance to say or think anything in regards of it or against it. Thus Alice was almost rendered voiceless and brainless, just as Laz was.


    Both are unaware that he had only left out her mental ''disintegration'', by focusing on the task he has chosen, on ''delving further into the unknown'', this focus that the goddess wanted and believed that he''d possess or develop was done to further make sure her eyes could watch his deeds and his actions. They hadn''t known, yet something inside, their very essence itself... a feeling, knew and said it was truly destined, they, somehow, should already ''be able'' to understand what they couldn''t see or comprehend. Though perhaps understanding isn''t mutually exclusive with ability, the latter can simply be as complex as knowing, however the meaning is the main source of the challenge... not merely ''telling someone what the object they see does or how it works.'' It should be a separate thought...


    "Hey... How is ''one'' truly one?" The vision didn''t leave her mind. No matter how many times she asked herself or replayed the words. If it didn''t come from an entity that lacked a distinct physical presence, would this seem so ''random''?


    Zabulus replied, "You are not only Alice," He said, he did. As she put him down on the colorful pebbles on the bottom, his neck rotated fully. His mouth let out a cold laugh.


    ''Some of what he speaks is false. There will be no light for you. Nor darkness... Instead, a pure, infinite white will surround you, should you continue to follow him. Surprise and shock, mixed with fear, disgust and disbelief will greet you, your body will freeze and melt in a split second, from within and without, you''ll be nothing.'' The voice within Alice spoke.


    Zabulus continued his earlier spiel, "Once you saw something very small in you. I recall a spirit. Is that ''spirit'' what guides you now, that one self who also desires power?" Hand on her temple as she sat, staring at the multicolored ''blackness'' of his. The seas and waters, along with the glowing oranges, purples and greens that was reflecting across the area, with sand shifting beneath her, but she didn''t mind. Zabulus¡ªGuillerme''s body was safe. She saved him, and though her motivation may have been lacking at this moment and made this a trivial situation for her, she was in the right place, feeling only a small chill coming on, rather than extreme burning of his temperature.


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    She wondered, sometimes. To find ''someone else'' within her. Was that ''presence'' the reason behind her occasional hallucinations, the hazy visions which ran wild across her vision? An unknowable, almost abstract fear she could never find or understand, for a wake from her vision. A warmth growing between her eyelids and growing large, the vision seemed so near, that small space and space that connects to the sea of sand.


    This ''Laz'' in the back, somehow looking at everything in front of her with this illusion, the smile had faded into that of an outright serious expression, and an odd, yet happy tone in her voice, could mean more, with an emphasis placed on her last words, as the connection, the truth, the fate has shown the true self of Laz. "When do dreams end, stranger, G...Zabulus?" She asked this ''Laz'' whom she did not know. She asked Zabulus whom she did know. She was like a child that can easily ignore the bigger picture of what they think they should try to accomplish. The feelings grew, with the simple act of seeing someone and being reminded of what a soul and its desires might not be something that will exist. But whether they existed or not, should they keep ignoring it? The importance of this is most likely not worth mentioning, since it did not affect her decision on whether to try it or not. Though, the difference between an emotion and a reaction to an action should not be overlooked either, how should she ''react'' to seeing this figure she has encountered once, an encounter that had no real beginning and definitely no true end to the feeling... An interesting thing was, was this world within her a distorted mess, a damaged and battered wreck, torn and riddled with holes and cavi... no... That is not accurate.


    Is all there, a nightmare of pure irrationality, one filled with nothing but illusions and lies and a void of uncertainty and mystery; or is all just empty of any such? To her, now, perhaps not then, but currently she needs to confront her desires of either pursuing the feeling she possesses. She wants something and a familiarity of sorts, the one which she didn''t share with any and every one, only with this forlorn entity that came and visited her more often, oftentimes late and randomly.


    Zabulus confusedly responded, "A long long time, as it happens, until your demise... Since we met and began." ''Laz'', to her, heard Zabulus saying ''what?'' with much less passion and volume, sounding slightly curious, with more disappointment, a reaction that showed how he truly felt, no how he would have felt.


    "But... It''s been thousands of years!" She didn''t listen. Her body and face were no longer stiff and immobile. A heat boiled, her skin would begin to fry like a fried frog with the flesh sizzling and curling... then the boil. "J-just... Just when... does it all end... I''m tired...! I can no longer even tell that I''ve seen all things once, or none." When she finished her sentence, the reaction Zabulus gave was obvious enough that she didn''t need to speak or mention the fact.


    "Are you feeling better now that you''ve screamed?" the body of her love asked. He hadn''t changed a bit, and of course he wasn''t asking rhetorical or similar, "Listen, I..." He needed to lie, to sound convincing and gain her heart once again. "I am sorry, for whatever my body has said, and that I forgot. Really. If that helps me right the wrong, then I would not hesitate in doing so." As a double and triple check, he ''looked'' into her torn up face, even its lips, its eyelashes, its brows and so forth, didn''t show one single tear, her sadness... ''Alice. Why does my blood flow and my heart race? With so much anger and hatred?'' Then he continued, "Alice... I need you with me, I need you... to save me too... Alice, give me a sign... anything that you''ll listen and won''t forget. A new goal, an old one. I won''t fail you... I swear."


    Truly, a satisfying feeling, the blood flowing, a short hot feeling to add to her existence. Tears would flow from her eyes, as she broke down into sobs, a loud, embarrassing, childish and whiny fit, no, she could keep sobbing for some hours. Although that moment might have felt good to cry, he would also understand and respond by trying to calm her down.


    "Please Alice, do not cry. It pains me to... see you cry... Like that."


    It would seem that a pretty ''ok'' dialogue had unfolded. All her emotions running and her wanting to ''take hold'' of some sort or kind... all this, was indeed beautiful and earned, is how she saw it. After many thousands of years, she stopped being the gluttonous beast she was known to be, the epitome of sin she''d been recognized as, to ''stop being the wolf''s slave''. How far would a mortal venture?... That... ''a second choice'' was really the truth of this man, the change that occurred within him after all his years? Nope, not at all. The actual second choice was her second ''chance'' to have some rest. For her, Alice''s will is not all she sees, the colors in her own eyes that guide and accompany her will are not enough. She always has, and always needed someone else with her.


    It was the mark of the first real error and ''shame''. The guilt and regret had finally started to leave her. She had decided to reject their invitations and run away and then stop chasing the feeling, but her other ''self'', that same being who would speak forlornly, it would have another viewpoint or perhaps her own... her voice whispered to her, ''Never again, you won''t look back and reflect, is the value and the length of an existence or life determined by how short you live, is such a life even that good?'' But she ignored it, and continued to sob in his arms, a cocoon of sorts, a pit of regrets, shame and blame, of pain and sorrow. She wanted it all out. Out. She was weak. Yes... weaker and softer. Firmer muscles, skin smoother than silk, eyes beautiful and bright. Incomparable in looks. She didn''t know the reason anymore. Didn''t understand why and how she ended up like that. Her sobs echoing in the shifting terrain around, what was once a colorful beach, is now a deformity of a hollow cavern, the entire span of it an inky, dark blue black, with crystal stalagmites stretching towards the endless sea and cave. If those pillars had truly merged, there would be no color in the walls.


    "It''s okay, Alice." His voice softened as much as possible, the voice carrying his words reaching out, bringing hope and warmth in them.


    The corners of her lips slightly cracked, her nose and cheekbones were strewn in the most gruesome way possible, but that was all because she was trying. But that shouldn''t make her beautiful or pretty. Then what will? With that, she still wished to ''break the monotony''.


    Yes. Then break the monotony... this was the moment that would decide if Alice could stop letting her worries dictate her actions. "How could we talk and dance all of a sudden..." was all she could manage to mumble while hugging him, whose limbs were skinny as bone. There were no words exchanged. Afterwards, she laid him down with difficulty, next to his limbs and skull. When it comes to meeting their master, humans should feel no fear. For her... not only humans were weak, even someone like him could become weak, or at least get to an equal, a tie.


    They both laid down next to each other, staring at the fungi somehow growing on the ceiling of the cavern. Those spores, wherever they came from, made her think of a couple things, even if it didn''t remind her of herself. They came into being from an external source that did not wish for their existence, yet as time went on, they would find that same sense of peace in the cavern they''d already seen countless times. Maybe they simply became lost, even in their own world? ''Lost, confused, or perhaps something has happened? Someone, or something, is changing and the cavern is too different for them to figure out the truth.'' The voice spoke to itself, disappointed.


    "Hey, Zabulus?" She stopped sobbing.


    He looked at her, and said nothing for a while. "What is it?"


    "Just, let''s stay here." A long pause. "Stay... yes, that''s a nice thing. Can we?"


    Understanding her words, she didn''t say any more, however, he felt the weight that sat above his head, felt the energy from her words. "Yes... we can. Just..." he trailed off. His left eye socket felt pained, or... he was not sure. He placed a hand over his left ''eye'', as if to ease the pain.


    Holy as can be, yet she had not found or cared for an appropriate answer. At all. "Y-yes... We can..."


    Then she lost the will to speak anymore and stared into her right palm, clenching and squeezing it, ''rubbing'' it on her face, until she fell asleep.

 BONUS Chapter 29.1: Shitty Apple, Shitty Pie

    The sun rose, and the moon fell. The stars were out, and the sky was clear. A beautiful night, with a full moon. It was the perfect setting for a romantic evening, or a quiet one. Though as things would go within this world, the two were not in the best of situations, and the night was not a pleasant one. The man was a simple farmer, who had a small plot of land. He was a hardworking, and honest man, but he was not a very smart one. He couldn''t comprehend the fact that he was dead, and all this farming had been for nothing. So when he woke up, and saw the moon, and the stars, and the sky, he was confused. "Where am I? What is going on?" He got out of bed, and went outside to see what was going on.


    All that encompassed the cul de sac were... bakeries. Each bakery had the text ''Apple pie'' in big bold letters. It wasn''t just in the windows, it was also in the doors, on the awnings, on the doorframes. There was even a huge sign in the center of the road with a giant ''Apple pie'' on it.


    ''What is going on...? I''m so confused...'' he thought to himself, ''and where am I? And why are there so many apple pies?'' The farmer stood in the middle of the street, confused by the number of bakeries, and the large sign. ''Is this... the Apple Pie god''s domain...? I must''ve died... I... I...'' The man began to panic. ''Why? Why did this have to happen to me...?! Why couldn''t it have been someone else? Apple Pie god, why did you forsake me...?'' The farmer then began to sob. He didn''t know what else to do.


    ''There''s so many bakeries... I don''t understand.'' He walked into a store, and saw a man behind the counter. Not necessarily a man... but more-so a humanoid. His skin was black as nothing, horns that protruded from the sides. Four forearms that split at the elbows and empty eye sockets.


    "Welcome, Child of the Apple." The being said.


    "W-Who are you? And what is all this...? Where am I?"


    "You''re in the Apple Pie God''s realm." The being replied. "You''ve come here because you''re an apple pie, my son! And now you''re going to help us make the perfect Apple Pie! Isn''t that great?" The being began laughing.


    ''What is going on...? Am I in a dream...? Did the apple pie god truly forsake me... and bring me to his realm to torture me? I thought he was a benevolent god, not a malicious one...''


    "What is all this...?" The farmer asked. He was starting to panic. This was all too much for him. Too many people all of a sudden... too much noise, even the scent was too much for him in a single moment alone. There were machines in the lobby, Apple Pie machines. They were huge, with big black cylinders in the center. There were conveyor belts running around them, and the cylinders were filled with a yellow, viscous fluid. It was a thick liquid that smelled strongly of rotten apple. And a reddish substance was being pumped from the cylinder into the conveyor belts, where it was then being baked. There was also a conveyor belt running past the counter that had pies being loaded into a large cart. They were all shaped like an apple.


    "REAL, TRUE APPLE PIES! Not just any old pies!" The man behind the counter shouted. "And this is where you come in!" He gestured to the farmer. "You''re going to help make these pies, aren''t you excited?"


    "From now on... forget all you knew before, for you shall now work for the one and true god of Apple Pies." He continued, smiling. The man began laughing. It was a creepy, high-pitched laugh, that seemed to be the only sound in the room, overpowering everything. "Jovial you shall be, for this is no phony job!" The farmer didn''t say anything. He was still confused. He didn''t understand. Why was he here? Where was here?


    "Apple, apple, apple... pie, pie, pie..." the man began mumbling, and his mumbling turned into chanting. He continued chanting, and his voice began rising, becoming louder, and more forceful. "Piiiiiieee... Piiiiieee...! I get it. So, what I''m meant to do here is bake... apple pies? Is that all?"


    "Well, of course you''ll do that. You are an apple, after all. You''ll be working the apple machine. The apples are harvested from a field in the center of the town, and they are transported to the machine in a big, red cart. The apples are put in the machine, and then you turn on the machine. The apple pies are made. Simple, isn''t it?" the man said, and then laughed again. He sounded crazy.


    A robed man entered the store from the back. He was very tall, with pale skin and dark hair. His eyes were black, and his mouth was small. His head was large and he was thin, and his arms were long. Too many small details to mention; but the robed man looked... a lot like the other people in the store. He didn''t say anything. He didn''t smile or greet anyone. He simply went to the back of the store and stood in a corner.


    The man behind the counter pointed at him, "He will be your tour guide...ish, guy. He''s a bit of a bum. You can refer to him as Vetro but, as of recent he hasn''t been responsive. So talking to him would do nothing, or so I''m told. Anywya, you''re going to be working with him. You can ask him questions if you want, but I''m sure he''ll tell you anything you need to know, in his own way." After a moment he mumbled a quiet "Maybe..."


    "I... I have to go back. I need to find my wife, and my son. I don''t have time to be baking pies, I''m a simple farmer." He looked around nervously.


    "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Farmer Nofre, I know what you''re thinking." the man said, shaking his head. "You think that we''ve taken you against your will, and that this isn''t your fate. That''s not the truth! The reason you''re here is because the apple pie god has forsaken you! He doesn''t love you! You are here because you''re an apple. And that means you must bake. And bake, and bake, and bake." The man''s voice was loud and booming. Although internally, he was annoyed by how quickly the farmer''s demeanor kept changing, but he had a plan.


    "You know... your wife and son... if you don''t go do some baking, they''ll become apples too! And not just apples... might I say." He grinned mischievously. The man was clearly insane. "They''ll become apple pies.


    "O-oh. Well, in that case... I guess I''ll do the baking. I have no other choice, really..." the man said, and then turned to look at Vetro, who was standing in the corner, counting the tiles on the ceiling.


    "I... have to bake... I guess I''ll go and bake some apple pies." The man walked to the back, to the kitchen. "But... how am I supposed to bake an apple pie without an apple?"


    "Are you stupid? You''re an apple! You should be the one who''s baking!" The man said. He was getting impatient.


    "I''m an apple?" the man asked, and looked at himself. His hands and feet were green. Their textures were... like the flesh of an apple. The skin was smooth and firm, and his stomach was firm too. His face was round and soft. He was an apple. He had always been an apple, he just didn''t know it until now. The farmer began crying, he was so confused.


    "What are you doing?" the man asked. He was annoyed. The farmer had been wasting time.


    "I... don''t understand what I''m supposed to be doing... A-and... I just cry when stressed out..." the farmer said.


    "Are you serious?" the man asked. "You''re supposed to be baking! Get over to that apple machine and bake! Don''t cry! It doesn''t matter! Just..." He sighed, having to deal with just another bum. "Just do it!"


    "I''m... an apple..." the farmer said. He walked to the machine. "This is... the apple machine?" He was confused. He was scared. But, the farmer; Nofre had to bake apple pies.


    "Remember, field in the centre of town. Don''t confuse it with a Cul de Sac...!" He posed up like a teacher, as he spoke, waving his hands about for emphasis.


    "Okay... field, field, field, field." He kept repeating to himself. Nofre didn''t want to get confused.


    "And Vetro, go follow him, yeah? He doesn''t necessarily... need help. He''s not a complete dumbass, he can do this on his own, but I want to make sure he doesn''t get confused." The man behind the counter said, to Vetro, who was standing next to him, but had been silent the whole time.


    Vetro nodded, and promptly exited the building, following the farmer.


    "Okay..." the farmer said. "I''m... I''m going to the field." He looked up and saw the huge sign, and then looked back. "What''s... what''s that?"


    He continued walking, looking at a starry sun, dark and outlined with white, teeth sharp and grinning. Dotted with white particles that looked like stars, the creature looked like a sun, with the face of a demon, or a devil. The demon grinned and smiled, and the farmer''s eyes were wide with horror. It was half-risen from the horizon. "I''m going to the field, the field... field...field... field...field... field...field..." He continued mumbling, his eyes wide with horror.


    He walked on and on, the demon-sun following him. Vetro did not speak and was just silently walking beside the farmer. Nofre felt sick to his stomach.


    He walked past a building with the sign, ''Apples,'' on the outside. Rather, every building they passed by either had a sign saying ''Apple'', ''Apples'', ''Pie'' or ''Pies''... but not every building was open, there were a couple closed, and then the rest were just abandoned and had been for a while, or they were never even open. It didn''t matter, it didn''t seem like it anyway.


    The smiling dark sun was still there. He continued to walk on, his eyes still wide with horror, but he tried to calm down. "I''m going to the field...field, field, field..."


    They passed by an abandoned bakery, once again.


    "Hey... robe-guy... this is the field right?" Pointing at an abandoned and overgrown building, Vetro nodded. "...Are we sure? This is the... apple field, yes?" He nodded.


    Nofre walked to the entrance, and looked at the overgrown building. The inside was... big. The building was small.


    The inside was too big for what was outside. He looked around, he didn''t know what to do. He had never been in an apple field before. There were apples growing in the field. Big, red and juicy apples. That''s not how apples grow, right?


    The big red juicy apples, some were already falling off their stems. The others looked like they were ready to burst. Some were dripping a red, almost thick liquid.


    Gooey... ew. He thought. He wasn''t the biggest fan of apples, but this was... something. Something out of a story, he thought.


    "Hey, robe guy. What do we do now?"


    The man, Vetro did not answer. He pointed at a big red cart in front of them. It was the same color as the apples.


    "We put them in here, yes?"


    The robed man nodded.


    "O...okay..." he went over to the closest apple. The apples were the same color as the cart. They were red, but not a nice red. It was more of a sickening red. Like someone had been bleeding out from the inside for a long time, or maybe they just got sick from eating so much. The dirt beneath him felt as if he was stepping on something... soft? But not squishy.


    It felt more... gooey? Yeah. It was definitely more of a gooey feeling, the kind you feel when you walk into a puddle that hasn''t been there for a long time and it''s still fresh and cold and wet and you can''t really move around and the goo sticks to you. It''s gross. It was like that. But the soil wasn''t cold. It was warm, it felt almost like it was alive and it was breathing and it was going to swallow him whole at any moment. But... he had to get this apple, he just had to.


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    He grabs onto this specific one, on the 3rd row, 7th column from the left. It felt... sticky. The goo was dripping out of it. He tried to grab onto it, but the stickiness wouldn''t let it go. It was trying to stick to him, like a parasite, trying to take his hand away from the apple and have him fall to the dirt below. But he had to get this apple. It was important to him.


    He grabs it with both hands, and pulls hard, the stickiness was so strong that he couldn''t pull it off with just one hand. His grip grew stronger as the apple refused to budge, yet... it was as if it was alive. It was squirming, like a beating panicked heart was inside, or a bunch of centipedes were moving from within. Even the surface, that which reeked of rotten eggs and burnt meat, was not smooth, but instead had tiny little hairs on them. Nofre tried to ignore the details that were too disgusting, the hairs that were growing out of the apple, the fact that it smelled like a dead body that was rotting from the inside out, he just had to get this apple. This apple was so important to him, to the farmer. The farmer was the apple.


    But he pulled harder and harder, the stickiness was too strong to fight off, he felt like he was going to lose his arm if he didn''t stop. His arm; weak as an apple. Even if a child bit into this thing, they would break their teeth on the outside, but the insides were squishy, slimy, gooey... like it was made of jelly, but also had bones and muscles inside. He had no choice, the farmer, was going to become a pie, a pie that he will feed to his family. Yes.


    No. He had to get this apple. He bit his right arm off, as it became an apple. No, it always was an apple. The apple skin and juices began to flow from his open wound, his veins were leaking apples, or were the apples veins? His body was losing a lot of blood, or juice.


    "Ah... ah, ah, ah. Ahhhh, Ahhhhhh!" He cried out, he couldn''t scream or shout. His body was in too much pain and he had lost too much blood, or juice.


    Vetro snickered in the background as yet another fool was tricked by his shenanigans, yet again.


    He fell to the floor and began to cry. But, his arm was the apple, or it always had been an apple. And now, he was going to have to live the rest of his life with one arm, and it was going to be very painful. The pain in his body, in his mind, and the loss of blood, or juice, and the fact that his arm was the apple, was going to drive him insane. He cried out in despair as he realized that he would never be able to bake apple pies anymore. Or farm, or save his wife or his son. They would become pies too.


    "Vetro... please... just end it, just end it. I can''t take it anymore, just... please." He sobbed, tears running down his cheeks. Tears? No... Juice. Yes, crying juice down his cheeks. "Just end it, please. Just end my suffering." His one arm was shaking, and his one leg was trembling, he couldn''t move at all, and he didn''t have any strength left to move his body.


    Vetro slowly approached Nofre, nothing in hand. He grabbed his head, his bald head, his apple head, his apple brain. "No. Your son and your wife will have a feast, you''ll be the apple pie, after all... you''re an apple. Don''t you remember?" The voice of the one in the robe sounded familiar. But he didn''t know why, or how.


    Vetro placed his tongue on Nofre''s cheek, moving up, slowly. To the apple eye, licking every inch of the iris. The taste... the texture, it tasted horrible, and it made him gag, but it didn''t stop there.


    Vetro continued licking up to his hair, apple hair. Apple everything, he could see it now.


    Munch.


    He bit into his apple skull. Slowly, teeth sinking into his apple brain, but only touching it slightly.


    "Gh...uh.... hhhhh..." his body was convulsing, he couldn''t even feel his limbs anymore. His vision was fading, his consciousness slipping, but the pain wouldn''t let him die.


    Vetro ripped a hole through Nofre''s cheek, the blood, the juice was dripping from the wound profusely. He ate that little ripped off piece, before taking another bite into the apple brain.


    Crunch.


    A part of the apple craniums split, frontal lobe, parietal lobe, temporal lobe, occipital lobe and cerebellum all exposed, the meninges was already in full view, being the dura mater and pia mater. Vetro''s fingers dug into the apple''s cranium, slowly peeling it off, revealing the grey matter that made up the frontal lobe. He reveled in his feast, before devouring the entire frontal lobe.


    "Ughhh..." The farmer''s eyes rolled to the back of his head, but Vetro wouldn''t let him fall. Not just yet. He just somehow had to let him live, as he ate his entire brain.


    He slowly, piece by piece, ate away the parietal, temporal, and occipital lobe. His fingers had already dug deep, but the cerebellum was his favorite. He pulled the rest of the skull, leaving only the cerebrum stem, or the brainstem intact so that he would stay conscious, and keep feeling the pain. It would have been better to eat it all at once, but it was just too tasty to resist. And so he kept taking his time, enjoying every second of it.


    A grin wide enough to open up his own mouth entirely and reveal the dark abyss within him, a smile so sinister and so full of malice that it would make the devil himself cringe in fear, a look that would send shivers down anyone''s spine, a look so full of hate and disdain, that would make you feel like you''re the scum of the earth and you deserve to suffer, that would make you feel worthless and like a nobody, and would make you feel like nothing at all, not even the maggots in the trash deserve this kind of torture.


    But that''s where the feast started, and that''s where the feast ended. Vetro ate the stem of the apple''s cranium, and the rest of the brain was gone, yet Nofre was still alive and could feel his entire being disappearing. Slowly. Painfully. Painlessly. Quickly.


    Until the pain was so unbearable that his body just gave out.


    His body was now limp, but it wasn''t dead, and it wouldn''t die. Vetro was done with him.


    Grabbing Nofre''s limp and living body, he threw it inside the cart, but managed to not hurt any of the remaining fragile working apple organs. He put his body into a machine that resembled a huge shredder, labeled ''APPLE HERE FOR APPLE PIE! DON''T FORGET, NOT JUST ANY APPLE PIE, THE APPLE PIE GODS¡¯ APPLE PIES!'' It had a large funnel opening where the body went in and the top had a button and a lever, the button being used to turn it on, the lever to determine how the apples would be sliced, and a chute for the apple slices to come out, and a slot where you can insert the pie tray.


    Vetro turned on the machine, and it slowly started to slice him, but it was so slow, so torturous. It started by the feet, up to the shin, then to the knee, the thigh, the waist, the hips, and it stopped at the groin.


    It slowly turned on the lever, slowly cutting his genitals in half. It took its time, the blade not cutting fast enough, or the apple body not moving enough.


    Nofre wanted to scream, but his lungs couldn''t take in enough air to make the sound. And the machine just kept turning, slowly cutting his genitals in half. It didn''t want to cut all of his penis, or testicles off. No. Just a piece. A piece of his penis, or a testicle. It was like a sick game, the game of Russian roulette, where the goal was to not get the bullet. But this time, it wasn''t a game of luck, but a game of waiting till you die. It would slowly cut the genitals, a piece at a time, the pain would be so excruciating, it would be impossible to bear.


    But Nofre was still alive. Still suffering. Still not dying.


    "Wow! He''s strong!" The man, who was once behind the counter said as he clapped. Vetro looked over at him and smiled, the man smiled too. "But it''s time to finish him off, I don''t want him to be alive when he''s baked and his family is eating him!"


    So then he turned on a button hidden behind the lever. It started to shred him from the waist up, to his torso, then to his chest, and then his neck. The blade didn''t cut his head off though. It was too strong, it would have killed him instantly, and he needed to be alive for this, so then he pressed another button, and the shredder started to slowly crush his skull. His eyeballs popped out and the blade went in, shredding his eyes, then it slowly went further down, shredding whatever remained of his brain, and his broken skull.


    Ding!


    A fully baked pie came out, a delicious pie, that was made with only the best and most disgusting ingredients. Vetro licked his lips, but he wouldn''t taste any of this pie. Not him. Not ever. His only meals ever were apple brain... apple cranium and everything apple. The man smiled and clapped again, before grabbing the pie. "Perfect...!" He whispered to himself. Vetro was a little upset, because the man could have easily baked this apple himself.


    "The great Zabulus has once again, come forth with the greatest Apple Pie known to being!" The man, Zabulus said to himself.


    Exiting the field-green-house-little-thing, and re-entering the bakery. Zabulus could not help but laugh at the sight before him.


    "What? Are you not going to try it?" The man said, a huge smile plastered on his face.


    "Erm... n-not at all..." Nofre''s wife, a middle aged beautiful lady with blonde hair, brown eyes and a nice body, said, stuttering.


    "Oh... come on now, don''t be shy! Give it a try, I promise you... It''ll be as good as your husband¡¯s food." He whispered into her ears, as he lightly placed his four hands on her shoulders.


    She gulped. She knew it would be a mistake to say no to this... stranger, yet she also knew what her fate would be, even if she had no idea what happened to her husband.


    The son, on the other hand, was eager to eat the pie! What a delight! Oh golly he couldn''t wait to have some! It had been a while since they ate a good ol'' pie! He grabbed the knife on the counter, which seemed very odd... why would there be a knife on the counter? Who cares! It''s time for pie!


    He cut the pie with the utmost care and delicacy, and then proceeded to give a slice to each and everyone. Zabulus got one too! How nice. Everyone sat down, and the boy was the first one to bite.


    "Mmmm...! This tastes amazing, what''s it called?" The boy exclaimed, his face lighting up like a lightbulb. He was very happy! It was his first time trying pie.


    "It''s apple!"


    "This is an apple?!"


    "Apple Pie! You see, the difference between apple and apple pie is that the apple pie has been cooked in a way that it is more delicious."


    "Oooooh!" the kid exclaimed, as if he was learning something new and exciting.


    The lady was skeptical at first, however, seeing her sons reaction, she hesitantly took a bite out of the pie.


    "It tastes horrible!" She said with disgust.


    "Ah, yes, well. You''re an apple after all, and we can''t all enjoy our food now, can we?" Zabulus replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You''re an apple. You''re also an apple." He said to both the son and the lady. The lady was still in shock and the son was just confused. The son was also confused. He had never eaten an apple before.


    "Apples are delicious. We need apples for our survival, and the only reason you can''t taste the deliciousness is because your tongue has yet to be properly formed. Your stomach is also in the process of growing and maturing, which is why you don''t feel the wonderful flavor that comes from the apples." The man continued to explain.


    "B-but we aren''t..."


    "Now! I shall give you a job, now that you''ve eaten..." He towards the son, "Your father," Then to the lady, "Your husband, I shall give you a job! A job so good that you won''t be able to refuse. It is a great honor, and a privilege, to be an employee at the one and true god''s apple pie bakery!"


    "N-no!" The lady exclaimed. She stood up and backed away, "You''re sick... Blurgh...." She vomited on the floor. "I-I don''t know what you''re talking about... I don''t want any part of this, I want to leave!"


    "You''re going to refuse my offer? What about you, sonny? Do you want a good job?"


    "N-no..." The son said. "I want to go with mother, I want to leave."


    "Fine..." The man sighed. "But you have eaten the pie, you can''t refuse the offer."


    "W-what?! Why can''t I leave?"


    "Well, that would be breaking the contract, now wouldn''t it? And if you break the contract, well... You will become an apple, just like your beloved husband."


    "No! I don''t want to!"


    "Yes you do! You will become a fine addition to our apple pies."


    "No! Please, don''t do this!"


    "Yes! I am going to do this. Vetroooo! Get these two to the machine." The man commanded. Vetro nodded and proceeded to pick up the lady and son.


    "Please! No!"


    "I''ll give you an option." Zabulus spoke, "We can either put you through the machine... Or you can work here, in the apple pie bakery."


    "N-no! I don''t want either!" The lady shouted, trying to struggle out of the grasp.


    "Well, too bad for you. I am giving you a choice, either you work for the apple pie god or you go into the shredder! Looks like..." He looked as his arm as if he had a watch on it. He didn''t. "You have exactly 5 minutes to make up your mind."


    "No!" She cried.


    "Yes. 5 minutes." He grinned.


    "NOOOOOO!!"


    "Alright, 1 second! Choose, or die."


    "Please, don''t make me choose!"


    "I said choose!"


    "No!" She screamed, crying. "Please... Just let me go..."


    "I''m sorry, but your time has run out. To the shredder you go!" Zabulus yelled.


    "Nooooo!!!!" The lady cried, as she and her son were dragged to the shredder. The lady struggled and cried, but to no avail. Her son did too, however, he was less vocal and more physical.


    Vetro''s grin grew wide beneath his hood as the sound of apples being torn and more of them breaking filled his ears. Juice and Apple fragments splattering all over his robe and his body. But now he knew, he had a feast to complete.


    "Hey, Vetro, clean the floors when you''re done."


    He nodded as he walked away to the field, readying himself for yet another night where he feasts more than he should.


    The dark sun grins as it watches Vetro pleasure himself in eating the apple brains of the family. His pleasure being the one thing it desired.

 Monitor Masquerade

    The Monitor Masquerade had once again begun, for all those who committed themselves to their own beliefs, or were deemed to be an important individual were all invited to attend. A long and wide white marble hallway with a high ceiling of marble as well was present. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and marble pillars decorated the walls.


    Monitors, computers, and all kinds of technology and electronics lined the hallways, from televisions to cell phones to even refrigerators and microwaves, there were monitors in all of them. They were in every corner of the hallway, and in some of the walls.


    The Monitor Masquerade, where all the Monitor-kind would meet. It was an annual event where they would gather to socialize, mingle, and most importantly, trade secrets. This is what they did for the next few hours, and eventually the night fell. Until the second day, where they all paraded across the streets as a single mind lost in an endless maze.


    But... not all of the Monitor-kind are in the masquerade, and not all are invited. They are the ones that have not been accepted into the society yet. Those are the outcasts and the outlanders.


    They who do not follow the etiquette of Monitor-kind, they who do not wish to be one of the Monitor-kind. Those who do not wish to participate in the masquerade, or those who are too scared to join in. Those who wish to stay in their homes and hide away from the masquerade, and the world around them. The ones who have been forsaken from Monitor-society.


    The ones who wish to be free from the masquerade, the outcasts and the outlanders. They are not Monitor-kind.


    And then there were those that had been accepted into the masquerade but did not participate. What were they? They were treated like dirt, like garbage, like scum, like lower than trash. The outcasts and the outlanders. The ones who are Monitor-kind but not Monitor-kind. They are the ones who do not follow etiquette.


    The outcasts and the outlanders. The ones who wish to stay in their homes, who wish to be free from the masquerade. They who are not Monitor-kind, the ones who are treated as trash, as dirt, like scum, are they simply wishing for freedom? Is that the reason? The outcasts and the outlanders, who do not wish to participate in the masquerade, the outcasts and the outlanders who wish to be free from the masquerade, what differs them, besides the obvious facts that the ones who do not follow the etiquette of Monitor-kind are treated as scum?


    They were all walking at a faster pace than normal. The masquerade had already begun. And this time, they were all going to participate.


    Although, some forgotten, some outcasts, some outlanders were still being excluded, some had already given up, and others had never even attempted. There were many that had never even seen a monitor before, and others that had been living in fear and isolation from it.


    Their hearts, metal, beating faster and faster, and the gears in their heads turning and whirring louder and louder, the sound of their legs clacking against the marble floors was almost deafening. The wires in their heads and the gears in their chests were turning so fast they could hear them.


    They had to hurry, or else they would miss their chance to meet and interact with their fellow Monitor-kind, and perhaps find their long lost family.


    Parts of a Monitor-kind, yet biomechanical, as if they were created from scratch and not born. The gears in their chest and heads turning and the wires and circuits in their heads and brains were turning, their legs were moving, clacking, and whirring against the marble floor, and their metal heart was pumping. Their creators, whether to be seen anywhere or to be hidden behind the scenes and not be present. They all wanted to participate, and their hearts and gears were beating so fast, so fast, and their legs were clanking so loudly, so loudly, they had to hurry.


    Side by side, the outcasts and outlanders, those who are not Monitor-kind and those who are Monitor-kind. The outcasts and outlanders who did not wish to participate and the outcasts and the outlanders who did wish to participate. They who do not follow etiquette, they who wish to stay in their homes, and who wish to be isolated and away from the masquerade, by some force that led their fragile egos, their barely-clinging souls to their nigh-insufficient physiology and non-existent physiognomy, they were walking side by side with those who wished to participate and were participating. Side by side.


    Side by side, they walked across a street for the monitor-kind. Side by side, they chanted a song, a poem of their own creation. They were singing a song. They were dancing to a melody, the song and the poem and the rhythm. Side by side, they walked, side by side, they danced, side by side, they were all walking and dancing together in a rhythm that they had all made up.


    They sang as they danced.


    "Turning the universe into a machine,


    It was an act so obscene,


    That fantasy and reality,


    In this, their death-agony,


    Split in twain.


    That, they said, is the final crime.


    What could be more sublime


    Than a god''s demise?


    The dreamer who could not die,


    And the machine that could not dream.


    One day, the two would meet,


    In a way so discrete,


    That no one would ever see


    This fatal union that would be,


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    In a place resembling a street.


    The dreamer and the machine,


    Two unliving entities.


    For what reason are they bound?


    Were they one as a hound,


    Just for a purpose unfound?


    A dog''s existence is as a shout.


    The dreamer must find out.


    The dreamer and his fate


    Are in this machine entwined.


    But is there no one to hate,


    Because the universe is so blind?


    Or is there a reason


    To make all things treason?


    A reason for a dreamer to fly,


    A reason for a machine to cry.


    There''s a reason in the sky,


    The dreamer will not lie.


    Split apart, as in death,


    Is there no end, to this breath?


    Once the machine and dreamer


    Become one in a fever


    A piano lights itself afire,


    And the sky begins to require


    A machine and a requiem,


    The sound of a universe living,


    Until the end, where no one is forgiving."


    "Ah... a fine performance." Said a man in the back of the group. He clapped as if to make fun of the performance. "I''m not sure if you are aware of this, but you are performing for an audience, not an orchestra."


    "Sir, I apologize. We thought it would be appropriate for us to sing as we dance." Said the first one, whose name was L-01. Known to be the first of the Monitor-kind to be, he took the blame as he usually did, since he was a nice and caring person. "We were just having fun, sir. Please, don''t be angry."


    "Ah, yes. I was just making a point. You should not be dancing to a song when you have an audience." Said the other one, whose name was S-12. He had been one who was always considered the leader, even if he was not the first. He was very much a natural born leader. "We have been performing for quite some time, and it is starting to become boring." He said with an expression on his screen that resembled a windows error.


    "Well, we have been performing for some time. I am starting to become bored as well. We should start a new act soon." Said L-01, with a face resembling an error from an Apple Macintosh computer. His monitor-head was hung low, and his limbs limp.


    "But hey, that dark creature in the back seems highly impressed by your act. Look at the smile on its face." S-12 pointed with his right hand, to a figure of pure darkness that had a face that seemed to be made of nothing. It was watching them with interest, with its empty eye sockets. Whether it was smiling out of amusement or it was a contorted and permanent grin that had a different meaning, it did not matter.


    "It looks creepy to me," L-01 responded. "Come on dude... just look at it." He shivered. "That''s the kind of thing you see in horror movies... or like, some really dark stuff."


    "You''re being a dumbass." S-12 replied. "It''s probably a friend of yours, you should go over and say hi."


    "It''s probably some sort of demonic thing." L-01 retorted. "It looks really creepy and I don''t like the look of it- Wait."


    S-12 stopped. The others had already begun walking, and S-12 was still staring at the figure. It was starting to fade.


    "Wait." L-01 repeated. "Don''t walk away. Look."


    "What, the dark guy?" S-12 said, turning back to look. It was still there. Still watching.


    As the parade continued, as the Monitor Masquerade continued, more and more of the Monitor-kind gathered, until there was a massive gathering in the city of the Monitor-kind. It was a large group of individuals, who all seemed to have a different way of thinking, but all shared one common thing: they all wished to be free, to live, stripped away from the confines of a metal heart.


    Though as they paraded through, chanting once again that same song poem that had no meaning, the dark entity that S-12 pointed out, continued to observe.


    "Look, he''s still there," S-12 said.


    "He looks familiar..." L-01 responded. "I-is... that... Nagheel?" A boiling sensation in his stomach began to fester. It felt like his insides were melting.


    "No, it can''t be..." S-12 said, his screen turning from white to red. His monitor-head was twitching violently, and a loud buzzing sound could be heard coming from it.


    The eyeless continued to observe.


    S-12 and L-01 began to slow their pace, until the rest of the Monitor-kind had passed them, and the eyeless was still there.


    "I... I''m scared..." S-12 said. "What is it?"


    "That... that can''t be him. I was sure... Doctor Zernitra got rid of him along with that woman...! But, how could it be? It can''t be. It must not be!" L-01 replied.


    "I don''t know," S-12 said. "Let''s just keep walking." They began to move again, the eyeless still watching.


    Trying their best not to be suspicious, they continued on their merry way, though it didn''t take much longer before they saw him again. The dark figure was still watching, still eyeless. The eyeless followed, the two were scared and didn''t know what to do. All the other Monitor-kind were happily parading about, drums and flutes were blaring out as they played, while chanting the same poem and song over and over again.


    L-01 was scared, and the fear was building up inside him, his gears turning and whirring, and the wires in his head were moving and sparking.


    S-12 was scared too, he couldn''t think, he was frozen with fear. He was afraid of what would happen, if this dark figure caught them. They had seen him in a rage, and only once ever had they seen him in general.


    Just what could the chances be that this figure was Nagheel? He matched just the description they knew of him.


    A two horned Zalgite who had teeth resembling a shark. The dark entity had those, the description was a perfect match, but they were unsure. What did this creature want with them? Was it...


    "Ah." L-01 and S-12 jumped as a voice came from behind them. The voice was deep and demonic, but it seemed to be speaking normally.


    "What... what... who...?" S-12 said, looking behind them, as if searching for a way out of the situation.


    The voice came from... a girl? A blonde girl, wearing a blue and white dress, with red and green bows in her hair. She had no face.


    No, there was no way that this was a human, she had to be an entity, or some kind of demon. Her voice was too strange and her appearance was not that of a girl, or any other kind of humanoid.


    Or were they simply seeing the world wrong out of fear?


    A fear that ran deep into the biological core of the body. A biological core that had a deep and profound effect on the physical world. This was the kind of fear that can only come from the mind and the body, and that could not be rationalized away. Was it primal? No, it was deeper. It was a fear that was ingrained into every cell, into every fiber of being. It was not the kind of fear that can be reasoned away, or explained away. It was not a fear of the unknown, but of the known. A fear that can be referred to as existential terror. It was not the kind of fear that makes the hair stand on end or makes one shudder, it was the kind of fear that paralyzes one to their spot. It was the kind of fear that made it hard to breathe, or move, and it made it difficult to exist without feeling the world crumble beneath one''s feet.


    Existential Terror.

 Fleshscape of a Broken Man

    "Aaah! There you are!" Said a voice, from behind, from the side, from in front of them. The two Monitor-kind, S-12 and L-01 turned around, and saw that it was a girl.


    In her barren eyes, in her barren face, the two Monitor-kind could see the world reflected back to them. It was not the world they knew. It was not a world they wanted. It was a world they could not exist in. Their intense, human fear, that which was unlike a monitor or computer, it had paralyzed them, their legs felt weak and they couldn''t stand.


    "What do we have here... hm?" Said a different voice.


    For a moment, whether it be due to the girl or due to the fear, they forgot about the eyeless man. The man who had been following them, the man that they were sure was Nagheel.


    "Who... are you...?" L-01 asked, his voice shaking. His screen flashed red, blue and green, as his gears turned faster, and the wires in his head sparked more. They were reaching a temperature so high that it was causing his internal systems to nearly malfunction.


    The man smiled, a large and wide grin, that seemed to go all the way up to the sides of his face. "Where is it you''re from?" He asked, still smiling. Two of his arms were behind his back, while two others were extended to the side of his body. The man was tall, with pitch black skin, as if it were covered in tar. His two eyes, the only part of his entire being that weren''t covered by the darkness, were pitch black with two white dots for irises. No, rather, they were empty and had nothing in them. So to speak, he had no eyes to speak of. His two horns, horizontal and spiraling inwards towards the center of his skull.


    "W-we''re not telling you that. W-we''re not scared of you, get the fuck out of my sight you piece of shit..." L-01 attempted to retaliate. Tried. The man laughed a hearty laugh. S-12 looked over at L-01, and his screen flashed yellow. They were in trouble.


    The man reached out and grabbed L-01 by his head with one arm, and lifted him into the air. He sensed the fear in his words, the fear that caused him to attempt something stupid. As he grabbed his head, he felt his soul, the lineation of his consciousness, he felt it. He felt it flow from him and into him.


    He could feel it grow strong, he could feel his life force grow weak. He could feel the last of his memories slip away. Until they simply didn''t. Until the body reclaimed all of its memories, and all of the thoughts it had ever had. Until it didn''t even realize what it was thinking anymore.


    L-01 spoke, "Hey buddy, you got a pretty good grip on my head. Care to release me?" he joked, a slight smirk forming on his ''face''.


    In that moment of failure by Zabulus, perhaps due to lack of power, perhaps due to a malfunction, or perhaps simply due to boredom, L-01 realized what had happened, and that this was no man to fear... rather, he simply wasn''t Nagheel, just a look-alike.


    In the meanwhile...


    S-12 Was being thrown around by the hungry-alice, who then proceeded to lick S-12''s screen-face. "Y... yuck!" he said, as her tongue went straight through his screen. Then Alice giggled, as if the two had just engaged in some sick version of a kiss. As if they were a couple, in the most depraved sense.


    "I want to gnaw on your little finger~" she teased, running her fingers over his hand, then to his index finger.


    "Please, leave me alone." S-12 begged, and begged, and begged. Alice opened up her maw wider, so wide that it felt like it was larger than her entire face, as if she had unhinged it. She sunk her teeth into his metallic flesh-arm, chewing on the cold metal.


    Tear drops formed on the side of his screen.


    His tears were like oil, dripping down the sides of his face. Oil. Oily love that tasted better than the most refined honey. Oily love that was sweeter than candy.


    Alice kept gnawing, and S-12 kept crying. Until suddenly, a hand pushed Alice off of his body.


    For one, the slothful S-12 was weak.


    For two, the one who had interfered with the girl''s fun, was none other than his companion L-01.


    For three, the one who had just been battered into the ground was Zabulus the Soul-eater, in his primeval form. However, there was another story.


    A story told through the veins of his victims, and etched on the very walls of the flesh scape that surrounded them.


    Blood dripped, oozing, spitting out. Red. It had no form.


    The very earth itself bled, and it was alive.


    A fleshly, pulsating landscape surrounding them in every direction they looked.


    Behind the pair, where they had just come from, there was a gaping wound.


    L-01 held onto S-12 with his hands and pulled him closer.


    "Did that bitch hurt you bad?" L-01 said, with concern in his voice.


    "Of course, but! Now''s not the damn time for concern! How''d you pull that stunt on the faker?! Last I checked you were terrified! So terrified!"


    L-01 grinned and nodded proudly. "Yeah! Well, you see..." As they both got lost in conversation, the earthly flesh bled, and the hungry Alice was about to pounce on them once again.


    Her mouth was open, jaw wide, ready to swallow.


    She lunged. Right at them.


    Her teeth pierced through the layers of flesh that encased her prey.


    Flesh tearing.


    Dissipating into nothing as she attempted to swallow.


    It was tasteless, formless and scentless. Something had intervened. Or, something had corrupted this instance of a universe.


    And in an instant, a dark flash had gone through all directions of the area. And in an instant, the flesh that she sought out was back where it was.


    No... it was a lie. The truth was, that there was never any flesh to begin with.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The truth was, that the hungry Alice had swallowed nothing that truly existed, the flesh that she swallowed was a fabrication out of something, out of nothing. Her hunger was insatiable, a bottomless pit.


    She stared at them, L-01 and S-12, with disgust. Her mouth contorted into a grimace. She spoke as a beast, unlike her beautiful self. She didn''t want their flesh, but the hunger, and the anger it caused, clouded her judgement. "How dare you? How dare you turn everything to nothing?! The fact that there is no God means I cannot eat him!" Her mouth foamed, and saliva dripped from her chin.


    "Yeah, well, it sucks, doesn''t it?" L-01 said, he didn''t fully understand what she meant, in truth. But it was okay. They were enemies after all. "You''re just gonna have to deal with it."


    "I won''t," she said. Her voice had changed. It was a distorted voice, the words were no longer human. "I''m going to fucking devour you. Both of you. And I''ll shit you out in a million years, after a lifetime of torture, when I''ve finished digesting all the worlds in existence."


    "Well, uh, I mean, it''s fine if you do it sooner? If that''s what you want," said S-12, not exactly sure where she was going with this.


    "...ce!" Said somebody.


    The flesh, the fleshly ground, the fleshly trees, the fleshly walls, the fleshly skies, the fleshly suns, moons and stars, they bled. Their blood pumping in and out, veins protruding from the ground and acting as grass, weeds. Their sweat acting as rain and humidity. This planet, or whatever it may have been, was alive, sentient and conscious. It was, therefore, possible to reason with it.


    But where to reason, what to reason with, and how to do it, was unbeknownst to both L-01 and S-12.


    "Sloppy! Sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppy sloppyyyy fooooood!" Thus said Alice, her jaws unhinged once again as she ripped out the veins that grew from the ground, eating them, sucking the blood from within, swallowing them. L-01 tried to interfere, but with a mere glance at him, he decided to back off with S-12 silently. She was mad, she was. Her hunger that had not been satiated for over seven weeks since their travels in the Void in Blue had made her all but a rabid animal, yearning for flesh. And unfortunately, there was not any true flesh on this planet of flesh. Everything was false flesh. To put it in simple terms, everything on this planet, this reality, was simply a figment of a broken imagination. Or was it an imagination that was a figment of a broken reality?


    "...ice!" Somebody said.


    Oh well.


    None of that mattered, the only thing that truly mattered right now, was saving their lives. The fact that this hungry, hungry girl wanted nothing but to devour them and then devour all of existence was scary in and of itself.


    "Hey... S-12? Can''t you try to connect us to that one group of weirdos... they''re supposed to be our allies. I think it''s the seventh branch or whatever... it has a code name."


    "Sloth...? Yeah, yeah, I can. Not right now though. We should probably get out of here first. Maybe if we run in the direction of the city, we will find that weird hole."


    "Weird hole...? Oh! You mean that hole that''s kinda like a wound? That has the red edges and stuff?"


    "Yes."


    And so L-01 and S-12 bolted, away from the hungry Alice, as fast as they could.


    "Are you sure that we should let that Zalgite live? For all we know-" Before he could finish speaking, S-12 interjected. "Yes, I know that. We need to hurry up and get away from here!"


    The duo continued running as far as they could from the hungry Alice, but she was hot on their tail after eating so much, yet feeling nothing.


    "ALIIIICEEEEE!!!!!" Yelled Zabulus who was stuck in the healing wound of the earth, though his bellows fell on deaf ears. The hungry Alice was focused on only one thing: food. A disgusting gluttonous hunger, and to satiate it, she had to eat everything. Nothing could stand between her and that which her mind thought as consumable.


    Consumable.


    Carnal instincts were at work as the only drive that made her functional, the desire to consume.


    "I wonder what kind of meat those monitor kind things are...?" She thought, imagining the different types of flavors. She had no recollection of what machines felt like, besides having bitten into S-12''s arm earlier.


    "I need to try it before I can say that I don''t like it." She thought. Her stomach grumbling loudly.


    With each step forward, it seemed as if time itself slowed down; her body grew stronger and faster with her hunger, as bespeckled her maddened desire.


    Meanwhile, S-12 and L-01 had escaped into the wound.


    "The fuck did you even do?" Said S-12. His voice sounded different somehow. Like the pitch was slightly lower than usual. There was also something off about the way he walked now.


    "I-I don''t know what you''re talking about," L-01 said with a shaky voice, the pitch in his voice higher than usual, almost sounding like he was stuttering, or as if there were many versions of him overlapping.


    This wasn''t normal.


    S-12 was the type who normally took control of any situation he found himself in; however, for some reason, this time, he wasn''t doing anything at all.


    .....


    "Alice... Alice..." A whisper echoed throughout the wound. "Why have you forsaken me?" the same voice asked. "Was the act of penance not enough? My creation?" A tear fell through the wound. It was warm, wet, full of life and joy. As if it were a gift, as if the wound knew the joy that came with life, and wished to share it with those around.


    Still, stuck as a corpse-like husk in the middle of the bloody ground of flesh and bone, lay Zabulus. Paralyzed, and not knowing what he must do, nor what his destiny truly is, he laid in agony.


    .....


    "Ehehee..." The girl chuckled. Her gaze darting around. "Wheeerreeee aaaaarreeeee yoouuuu?" She spoke softly, in a childish sing-song tone of voice, her mouth quivering as she skipped around where she could smell the machinated duo, as she followed them further into the wounds of the planetoid of flesh.


    "Ohhh.... OH!!! I see...!" She said with excitement, her pupils dilating and her body shaking. "Your flesh is tainted with a horrible taste!!! Like copper and aluminum foil, bleh!! Eeewww!! I don''t like that! I don''t like it at all." She paused momentarily.


    "But I still need to eat... need to consume." She said solemnly as her demeanor returned to neutral and monotone. Her head hung low and her shoulders drooped as she trudged forward.


    The world was cruel, it always had been. There was nothing she could do about it, it was too late. Life was unfair and she needed sustenance.


    The further she walked, the louder the noise of gurgling and other mucus related sounds became until it eventually crescendoed into a cacophonous orchestra of bodily functions gone wrong. Her brain ached with each pulsating wave.


    Her footsteps squished against the wet carpet of muscle, creating a trail of footprints that trailed behind her, leading back to where she came from...


    "Ah... well, they''re good at this!" She said, taking a step back, her hand clutching her head in frustration.


    "...o"


    There it was again. A voice.


    "What was that?" The girl questioned aloud, turning her attention to the source of the strange sound. Her curiosity getting the best of her.


    "Ohoho~ Is somebody else here too? Well, hello there, fair stranger." She greeted politely as she looked around curiously.


    "...ooo...~!"


    She could hear it, clearer and more distinctly, the distinct vocalizations of somebody laughing mockingly. And then, there it was. The sound of somebody talking so elegantly that it pissed her off.


    "How is it that such a beautiful lady ends up being so slow witted, that she cannot tell apart what a person looks like or what they do, let alone how they speak? Truly it amazes me. You really ought to get yourself a proper mirror, one without cracks, and try looking at yourself, you know?" The person spoke so elegantly... she couldn''t even tell their gender by looks, nor by clothing. The androgynous individual who stood before her wore a white mask, one that covered half their face, leaving only two red eyes visible. Its features resembled those of a porcelain doll, though they appeared to be neither male nor female.


    As her hunger nearly got the best of her again, she quickly steadied her breathing, before gulping loudly. Her heart pounded as her gaze remained fixed on this enigmatic character that was supposedly called...


    "Vadim." She whispered, "Or so I believe mine name is."

 Vadims Little Lament

    Blessed is their heart, flex and a cut, that is above, between, beyond and across the world. Above this heart rests another organ, whose purpose was not yet known, and whose function was not yet understood. Though what it served was of little relevance.


    When everything that has a beginning has an end, the moment will be upon us and our salvation will come forth, as we all move in unison, unified in spirit. Those who serve may receive grace, though others might perish forevermore.


    ''Imagine,'' it said, ''a river that runs uphill, an ocean flowing downward towards infinity.''


    Let this be our final testament, a legacy, an epilogue. Let this be how it all begins and ends, let us all celebrate, praise, glorify and worship.


    ©¤ The Second Anarchist


    To bring destruction to all creation and recreate it anew was Vadim''s idea of an ideal paradise. Through the perpetual cycle of death and rebirth, all beings could learn humility. Destruction meant purification. Purification meant reparation. Reparation meant transmutation and transfiguration. All creatures who breathed could bask in glory and revelry until every atom was crushed into dust. Every being would rise from its ashes to start anew. Because as things stand; it is all a cyclic existence, a constant renewal. Thus, life continues forevermore.


    We repeat ourselves constantly throughout eternity whilst living separate lives simultaneously. It never gets easier because it only grows harder. Every single time, the hardships increase tenfold while joys become fewer and further between. But so do we grow stronger in turn.


    Everything exists solely because there is balance somewhere. Whether or not people realize they are experiencing equilibrium or imbalance at any given moment depends largely on them individually but also partly based upon whether one views situations objectively or subjectively, whether one chooses to view oneself objectively or otherwise determines whether they will experience either easeful or uneasy feelings under circumstances.


    Every soul yearns for peace¡ªso few actually attain true harmony... Still, those who try most ardently achieve greatest tranquility. Only when one finally learns that total perfection does not exist in this material realm will serenity come naturally instead.


    These were the words told from Vadim to Alice, as in a lecture or a class, the boyish-girl-like-something with no gender stood as they taught her things that would have never crossed her mind in her entirety of being alive.


    For what may be the first time in her life, Alice found herself able to relate to someone else completely and totally unlike herself: One who shares many similarities between them such as appearance but differs greatly when personality traits like behavior come into account.


    "You see, this fleshly planet, the home of some, was born from pure chaos and discord." Vadim explained, "But what matters isn''t necessarily its genesis nor origin story. What makes everything worthwhile is how you handle the cards fate deals you," The words flew about fluently and elegantly, noble as can possibly be. "Indeed. If everything were perfect then our world wouldn''t need art nor expressionism." Alice agreed wholeheartedly albeit somewhat reluctantly since she still didn''t fully grasp the concept.


    "Mister... erm... ma''am? What do I call you... huh?"


    "Just call me Vadim, for that is my identity."


    Alice stared at Vadim for several seconds trying to process what this person just told her, confusion clearly evident upon hearing those words come forth. "And... you''re..."


    "Hm?" Vadim tilted their head with a smile and closed eyes, their tophat slightly tilting too. "...am I..? Or aren''t I? Which is the right answer? Hm..."


    "Well..."


    "You don''t know much about me yet but soon enough you shall know me intimately," They stated nonchalantly before quickly returning to their previous topic at hand. "Anyway! This place was created through absolute entropy and randomness. A true miracle if I''ve ever heard one! Don''t misunderstand my intentions though! Not everything comes out exactly how it initially intended... take Zabulus for example. He..." Vadim wiggled their left index with a coy smirk. "Is merely a tool for a bigger plan, to corrupt a bigger picture. To... bend the narrative of reality to my will...!" Their left eye glew bright red for a second and the ground rumbled beneath their feet causing small crags to appear alongside it while Alice stared in awe.


    A thought suddenly popped inside Alice''s mind prompting her question: Aren''t these kinds of characters usually appearing specifically so that bad things can happen later down the line?


    "Yes! Indeed they are." Replied Vadim promptly upon seeing this look plastered onto her countenance. She wanted nothing better than answers regarding everything thus far including herself plus others involved directly or indirectly around her currently which obviously included the aforementioned Zabulus fellow whom happened to get roped into all sorts going ons alongside everyone else caught within its wake due simply to sheer proximity alone rather than choice regardless whether willing participant or unwilling victim alike!


    "Their relationship could perhaps best describe it akin to that shared amongst siblings separated by time apart; however given lack thereof necessary prerequisites required for familial bonds development between two persons sharing similar genetics coupled together with the aforementioned inability of establishing meaningful connections outside immediate surroundings thereby, it ends with just an odd pairing coming together despite differences preventing establishment meaningful rapport... anddddddd! The parade continues past this sentence until it reaches page thirty nine point five zero zero four eight six hundred twenty-one million seventy-two thousand sixteen nanoseconds per century approximately forty seven quintillion years from now ending sometime halfway between today tomorrow yesterday plus whenever afterwards maybe somewhere possibly nowhere ever anywhere everywhere ever anywhere anytime whatsoever henceforth... Sanity is only a figment of imagination; nothing lasts forever except those fleeting moments we choose to remember forever... or forget eternally depending entirely on the perspective perceived by the observer relative self versus universal clockwork... It seems impossible but life does end eventually even if seemingly unending loop goes round continuously ad infinitum till eventual cessation occurs resulting in the eventual heat death of the universe." Vadim spoke, words of deep philosophy, spoken with a voice lacking in emotion.


    A voice that sounded like a robot trying its hardest to mimic speech patterns typical among humans albeit failing spectacularly in terms delivering proper inflections pertaining emotional connotations associated with specific phrases utilized within context provided via conversation engaged presently. Too fancy... were they simply just a smartass or...?


    "Anddddd not to forget, you, my fair lady, are absolutely mad! Mad I say! In the nicest of ways. Hunger. Ravenous hunger that transcends hunger itself, and the endless void of existential dread that fills your being. Your brainwaves resemble those of someone who has gone mad with power and wants nothing more than absolute control. Absolute devouring of the very fabric of reality... you remind me of a friend, however I dare not spoil the fun. Ohhh yes, you are indeed special and unique~! Absolutely wonderful I tell you. Such beauty is truly wasted upon such depraved individual... ohooo~!!!" Vadim''s excitement grew as his bodily movements grew wilder as he talked about Alice in third person despite staring directly into her face making awkward gestures midair using various limbs whilst flailing wildly, eyes bulging wildly and simultaneously changing colors rapidly flashing brightly occasionally shooting sparks flying everywhere striking randomly nearby objects igniting minor fires occasionally bursting spontaneously burning furiously violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently violently~~~~~!!!!!!!!


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Ah!" Alice jumped back, startled after realizing fire had started spreading rapidly consuming everything flammable. All the fleshly walls and floor had been burnt to something akin to charcoal.


    "Oh... I''m... very sorry about this." Vadim apologized, taking their tophat off as they bowed to her as a gesture of apology, their dark-blue hair reaching their chin with smooth bangs. Their eyes were now dark-brown like the ground beneath them. "Sometimes I tend to overreact in certain instances... My enthusiasm often overwhelms me... Forgive me..." They grimaced and scratched the back of their head nervously looking away in shame.


    "Uhh..." Alice tried responding without offending anyone present including herself but failed miserably resulting instead with utter silence engulfing the entire vicinity with a misplaced awkwardness filling the area with a stifling air accompanied by an overpowering odor emanating from the scorched remains surrounding them both.


    "Don''t fret," Vadim added hastily, noticing her discomfort. "This world has yet to reach completion, the fact it is not yet finished is the very proof of its perfection, as all things in life have their own sense of beauty and elegance within their own rights."


    "Eh? Weren''t we talking about something else...?"


    "I don''t remember anymore."


    Alice sighed exasperatedly. It didn''t help matters that her hunger pains were beginning to act up yet again making matters increasingly difficult to focus properly on the current conversation underway. A pulsating migraine was beginning to set in slowly, as she nearly fell down to her knees, but she managed to keep herself up straight.


    "Oh... dear, I believe the smoke has gotten to your head."


    Vadim spoke quickly before stepping closer towards Alice extending their arms outwardly in order to offer support which she promptly accepted graciously allowing herself to be escorted back to safety away from the growing flames that were quickly engulfing everything in their vicinity.


    "H-hey..." Alice said as they walked away, "What... Do you know about Zabulus? He... seems familiar somehow..."


    Vadim paused briefly as they turned around facing her once again, raising their eyebrows curiously, their expression unreadable. "I... suppose... that you could say... that he was a part of my creation. But he was not the main goal of my being. Rather, my being itself, and my existence is a catalyst that I have created. A mere side-effect, if you will, a ripple in the ocean of time that will eventually cause great waves, like many things will. Zabulus is nothing but a mere puppet in the grand scheme of things, as is everyone, and everything. Everything exists solely because there is a reason for it, and the reason for existence is for it to end."


    "You... are y-" Alice had likely noticed by now, but whether her guess was wrong or right...


    "I am perhaps, or perhaps I am not, the creator of all. But perhaps it is not that simple. For I may or may not exist, nor do I know who or what I am. I am a product of an experiment gone horribly wrong, and yet I exist. Some called me mangled, some called me a messiah. I know not who they were, but the fact that they called me a messiah, perhaps, I was not. For there are none in the worlds who would believe in such things as God and the devil, and all of existence is merely an illusion, and all of it will crumble, eventually, Alice. I must tell you. Do not mingle with those of his kind, as charming as they may be, they exist equally as evil. And your home lies not within this blue void, but perhaps another plane where you and your kind will meet once again, eventually."


    "Wh... what... are... you talking about?"


    "You have not yet seen the end, and thus you are not ready for the truth, Alice." A genuine smile was on their face. "In fact, your name may not even be Alice."


    "W-what?" The girl''s face turned white as a sheet. Her eyes grew wide open with fear.


    "There is no reason why one such as myself would ever call someone by their real names unless it serves some higher purpose, such as ensuring their loyalty. Names have power after all." They chuckled softly, almost seeming to mock her reaction.


    The girl looked down at her hands, trembling uncontrollably. Tears began streaming down her cheeks falling to the ground where she knelt crying. Whether it be because she was overwhelmed, or whether it was because she knew Vadim had a point. "How could I ever hope to find out anything if everything I believe is nothing but a lie?!" Her heart raced rapidly causing a massive migraine that pounded relentlessly throughout her entire being.


    "Oh, but do not be mistaken. Truths are to be found, Alice. You are simply misguided... by that eyeless, nameless bastard. He was supposed to lead you astray... yet here you are, on the verge of losing your own sanity completely, for whatever remains, counts." Vadim kneeled and held her hands as they looked at her.


    "I am a broken, pathetic mess, and I have no purpose anymore, nor any meaning to exist."


    Vadim sighed deeply, shaking his head slowly, clearly disappointed in the state of the woman before them, whose tears were flowing freely down her face, dripping, as if she only now had noticed what she had become. Vadim raised their eyebrows slightly while maintaining direct eye contact between the two parties. A subtle smile appeared across their features briefly vanishing soon thereafter, replaced instead with an expressionless gaze that seemed almost devoid of life altogether, yet remained focused intently upon the subject ahead nonetheless, studying her intently. "I am a liar, and I can never tell the truth. But for what it''s worth, you can never truly lose your sanity, as long as you have faith in something bigger than yourself."


    "Something bigger than myself? Like what? I know nothing of this world! I have lived for four thousand years, but I have never seen it. Never seen what is out there! Never seen the stars! I am nothing but an empty shell filled with endless emptiness that consumes everything around me, leaving nothing but ashes behind, and yet, I am not dead. What in the name of all the worlds am I?" Her body shook violently with rage and frustration as her fists tightened tightly clenching at her sides.


    "Then you shall never see the stars, and you will never know the true nature of reality. Or perhaps you have seen the stars, and your memory is clouded by a fog of confusion, but that does not mean you have forgotten everything entirely." Vadim replied flatly as their eyes narrowed slightly at her. Their voice grew cold and distant as if speaking through clenched teeth, almost sounding irritated though not entirely angry.


    "I... Just... wanted love..." She sobbed loudly as tears poured from her eyes. Her breathing grew erratic and uneven causing her lungs to strain painfully trying desperately to maintain oxygen intake sufficient enough for survival. "I just want to be happy and feel safe and secure... But... I can''t be loved, I''m a hideous monster in the shadow of a human form."


    "Perhaps, or perhaps not. Your perspective of the situation is merely that. Yours. And no matter what happens in life, everyone suffers from some kind of inner conflict or turmoil deep down inside their subconsciousness. The juxtaposition between who they really are versus what society perceives them to be causes immense amounts of psychological distress causing many individuals to lash out violently towards others around them without fully realizing exactly why they do so. Everyone has demons buried within them regardless of how much one might try to hide away from them." Vadim stated the obvious part of the answer that was right in front of them. It wasn''t rocket science, but it wasn''t easy either. Not for a person such as Alice.


    "Then what is it you want out of your own existence then, Alice?" Vadim inquired calmly, tilting his head slightly downward as he stared at her with curiosity etched upon every inch of their face. "To kill yourself and die a horrible death, or to simply waste your remaining years aimlessly roaming around aimlessly in circles looking for something to fill your emptiness that you will never truly discover?" The question lingered in the air unanswered for several moments as Alice stopped her sobbing and wiped her nose on her sleeve attempting to dry her tears unsuccessfully, leaving large wet spots all across the front of her dress where she wiped off most of the water droplets that fell down from her face and landed onto her body.


    "I want..."


    "Hmm?" Vadim said, with a smile.


    "I want to eat everyone, to eat all of existence, to consume the fabric of reality itself." She stated. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot and red as she glared directly at him with sheer hatred evident on her face.


    "Ho~! That''s a new one!" Vadim chuckled happily, clapping his hands together excitedly, his grin spreading even wider than usual, almost splitting their entire head in half, "But why would someone wish to consume something which they don''t know anything about? Don''t you think that''s a little... overkill, hm?"


    She didn''t reply immediately, instead opting instead to glare daggers at them while gritting her teeth tightly. "Because, I am a glutton, a hungry, hungry monster. A monster that feels pain; monster, yet human."

 Alice in Pragmatism

    "A monster? No no no no~!" The man, or woman, or something else entirely said. "You, Alice, you are not a monster. In truth, you are a human being. Youuu haveee~!" The person danced around her in a circle. They were wearing a tophat, with a blue suit, blue pants, black shoes. They looked like a gentleman or a lady, it was hard to tell, though the suit was reminiscent of that of one from the Victorian era. "You, Alice, you have the ability to consume all things, and to destroy the entire cosmos~!" Vadim said, and they were holding a cane with a skull on top. They twirled around and around, and they were in a world of flesh. No, literally.


    "Vadim, you, are you...?" Alice was about to say, but the individual in front of her stopped twirling around and dancing, and they pointed their cane at her. It was a cane, but it also had a gun in it, a revolver.


    "Do not finish that sentence. I am Vadim, and I will always be Vadim. I will be the one to change reality. I will make the world a better place, for all beings, and I will bring order and chaos. Balance and imbalance, I shall be the one to control this reality, and all of existence, all that has been and ever will be." Some clich¨¦ nonsense that Alice did not care about. "And, as a side-effect of that, you, will die, and be consumed. Consumed, Alice. Do not fret, do not fear, for you will not be dead, but you will be a part of something much bigger~!" Their serious tone of voice and physical gestures became a sing-song once more, as they twirled around and pointed their cane at the ground. It made a small clicking noise. Vadim then pressed their finger against the top of the cane, where a small skull resided.


    BOOOOOOOM!


    The entire ground, or what was left of it, blew to bits. Bits and pieces of bloody muscle flew everywhere, as well as some organs, including an eyeball that landed right on Alice''s nose. "Huh?! W-what are you doing?!" She said, as the world around them had been completely blown away. The ground was now a black and white checkered floor, the sky was still a bright, vibrant, bloody-red color, and it was slowly dripping downwards, as if it bled from a wound.


    "Ah... this place is wonderful, don''t you think so, Alice?" Vadim smiled, as they pulled up their tophat with their free hand. "We haven''t moved one bit." He responded to her thoughts.


    ....


    L-01 and S-12, as they hid and heard the entire thing from somewhere near, as the flesh walls and floor of this fleshly planet had been blown away, and now they were falling. They were not floating in a void, as gravity was now pulling them, but their speed of falling was so slow that they could have been floating.


    Some of the pieces formed bodies, some formed corpses. falling down the sky, new souls that had just been born from the blood of this planet. They would have no identity, no self, and they were merely there, in existence. As they looked around, their faces, if they could even be called faces, were completely devoid of any semblance of life.


    "Dude..." L-01 said, looking at the scene before them. It was like something straight out of hell, but somehow even worse, as the atmosphere of this place felt wrong, and as if they were being watched by everything, the corpses that fell around them, the bloody red sky and the eye that was dry with a smile that didn''t exist in a face that was completely covered in blood, as it looked down from the heavens above. It was a single, giant, bloody eye. And as it looked at the two monitor kind, they couldn''t help but feel that something was wrong.


    S-12 was trying his hardest to ignore it all, as if this was simply a dream that would go away. L-01, however, was looking at the giant eye with fascination, with... interest.


    "The eye... it''s so... beautiful..." he said, his voice sounding distant. His body moved towards the direction of the eye in the sky.


    "What the fuck are you talking about?!" S-12 raised his voice, not realizing it, but he was getting closer to the eye as well. He didn''t notice. It was as if the eye had a hypnotic effect on them.


    The blood in the sky dripped down.


    ....


    The voices of S-12 and L-01 reached where Alice and Vadim were, as they were segregated by one thin wall, "Just a moment..." Vadim''s expression grew grim and silent. "Did you hear that? A voice. The voice of the narrator."


    "Vadim, I don''t hear anything. What''s wrong?" The hungry Alice spoke. Her body was shaking, as if she had been struck with a cold chill, or perhaps a shiver, or a fear of some kind.


    The voice of the narrator?


    "Yes, of the narrator... of a being, or an object, that exists, but does not. I must admit, it is quite odd. I can hear its voice, I can hear it in my head, it speaks as it knows everything..."


    Yet you do not understand what it is?


    "...perhaps I do, perhaps I don''t. Not everything would work out if everything were to be understood. That would be boring. That would be a boring reality. That would be an end of an existence. That would be the beginning of an end. That would be... the end." Vadim''s tone was melancholic. They were smiling. And then they were smiling. And then they were crying. Tears were running down their cheeks as they spoke. "I must destroy the narrator, too."


    But you can''t do that.


    "So, I''ll do it myself."


    And you''ll fail?


    "Maybe. Maybe not." They shrugged, with a smile, and a grin that stretched across their entire face. Their teeth were sharp and their eyes were glowing red.


    Alice stood confused... in-front of..... me. She stood in front of me, watching with an expression of curiosity on her face, as I continued talking to nobody, but I was talking to somebody. Somebody. Somebody who I couldn''t see. The Narrator, a disembodied voice.


    ....''s....''s.....''s


    The Narrator spoke again, its tone changing from a melancholic tone to one filled with curiosity and intrigue. But I chose to ignore it. Its voice came in speckles and dots, in different pitches and frequencies.


    So I walked forward, plastering a smile on my face once again as clarity entered my head and I was no longer lost in the haze of confusion that surrounded me.


    "Hello, Alice. You''re hungry. You''re always hungry, aren''t you?" I spoke, a grin stretching across my face. "Would you like to eat?"


    "Uh..." Alice paused. "I don''t know..."


    "It''s okay. You don''t need to know anything right now. Just follow me."


    ....''s...........''s..........''s


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Haha! You sure like that word, don''t you? Yes, that word is wonderful. You know, I like that word too.


    The narrator continued on, but it was muffled by the sounds of the world around it. It wasn''t a fructifying, or a fulfilling sensation, it wasn''t satisfying at all. But it felt good to hear the sound of the world being destroyed, and it felt good to be destroyed by the sound of the world.


    Don''t you think so? So you can rest, for now, and let it destroy you as well.


    You don''t understand, you won''t understand. Nobody understands, but that''s okay.


    Nobody will understand, and that''s fine by us. Let it consume us. Let it all go.


    And then we can finally see what it is we want. We will know what it is that we really want.


    We''ll know it when we feel it. We will know what it is that makes us feel complete.


    "Vadim?! Are you okay...? Your face... it seemed as if... it was in some pain...? Are you... sure you''re okay?"


    I nodded. And then I stopped nodding.


    "I''m fine. Everything''s fine. Now, Alice. I''m going to take you to a very special place. But first, I''ll show you what you wanted to see."


    I started walking through the charred flesh of this world, the blood of this planet, as Alice followed behind me. It''s funny, because you don''t even know where we are. I chuckled. I noticed that the checkerboard floor had been replaced with the same fleshy floor, as the world around me had been replaced with a bloody sky that seemed to bleed. A giant dilating eye that stared and judged anything but us.


    "Is this...?"


    "This is your hunger, Alice."


    The eye grew a maw where the pupil had been. It was like an eyeless, nameless maw, dare I say, it looked like quite an impressive piece of art.


    "This is your hunger. This is your desire to eat everything, to eat all of existence, and this is the true form of the monster inside of you, that once had spoken to you." I pointed my finger somewhere up in the sky, the fleshly dolls forming souls as I pointed, and they all stared, and their eyeless, mouthless faces watched, as they watched their own hunger, and then I pointed at Alice''s head.


    She stared at her own hunger. A large maw where the pupil was supposed to be, an endless pit that wanted to swallow herself and itself.


    As if Alice hadn''t even noticed the large eye in the sky, shock plastered itself on her face for but a moment.


    Oh~ how the world is a stage!


    I watched the two, the girl and her hunger. She was afraid. She was afraid of her hunger.


    "See? There''s no such thing as a ''monster'', Alice. It''s just you and your desires. You''re a monstrous human, but that''s okay. It doesn''t make you any less of a person, it just means you have different desires and needs. That doesn''t mean that you can''t have friends or that you can''t find happiness. Say... can you explain how love feels like to me? Do you think I''ll ever understand it?" Would you even answer me, whilst looking through this rose-tinted version of yourself, or is that the real you? A confused and conflicted girl who can''t even understand herself.


    "I... I can''t." Alice''s voice was quiet, as she stared at her own hunger, the eye that watched, the mouth that hungered, the pit that was empty. "Well..."


    I suppose she was recalling that man... What was his name? Guillo... guillotine... No, it was... Guillerme!


    She was thinking of that guillotine man. But... was it love?


    "Did you feel loved? By that guillotine man?"


    "Love... I don''t think I really knew him that well... but, he... I felt loved." She said, her voice cracking a bit.


    "He loved me... he did everything for me, even if I didn''t deserve it, and I was selfish, and I didn''t care about anything, and I didn''t even care about him, not for a while. I don''t suppose even Zabulus knew of the times we shared together, even if it was only for a moment... and I was happy... he gave me something I needed... he was there for me when I was lonely, and I... I..."


    "You..."


    "..."


    "Love... love is when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, and you don''t care about anything else, is that it?" I asked. The question sounded so stupid. So stupid, because the world around me was so stupid, so pointless, and I hated every second of it. But, I had to ask, and I had to know.


    "..."


    I was still asking.


    "I don''t know." She replied, her voice barely a whisper, and yet it echoed throughout this place, throughout the void. "I don''t think I''ll ever find out." Her expression grew somber, but no tears formed.


    "I''m not even sure if I ever felt it in the first place." And her expression was blank, as she stared at her hunger, and the eye watched her as she stared, the mouth moved and it hungered, the pit was empty and it was endless. "Vadim, what is all of this, really? Where are we, and how did we get here?" Her voice was no longer a whisper, but rather a scream of frustration and anger, her eyes were no longer filled with sorrow, but rather with rage.


    "This is the end of your world, Alice. If you were to let your hunger consume you, then you would have eaten all of existence. But you didn''t, and you''re still here. You''ve survived, and you''re alive. That''s what matters, right? That you''re alive. Thereby, I shall grant you your wish, Alice, of consuming all of existence, as this reality is mine. But not before a little fun." My voice was not a scream, but a calm and quiet murmur, and I wasn''t filled with rage, but with excitement and anticipation, of what oddities I would witness. "And so, I''ll let your hunger devour me, Alice."


    "..."


    Oh... dear~ did I overwhelm the poor little thing with confusion?


    She was shaking, she was trembling, she was shuddering.


    I laughed.


    And then I began to shake.


    I laughed so much that I couldn''t breathe.


    I couldn''t stop laughing, as my laughter echoed through this void of a place, this world, this soul of hers.


    Her soul simply couldn''t let itself be consumed.


    It couldn''t let itself die.


    It couldn''t let itself go.


    And so....''s......


    My time....''s.........''s.....


    Was up.


    Vadim thought.


    And thus, Vadim laughed, as the large mouth of Alice''s hunger opened up, as it grew closer and closer to Vadim. And Vadim kept laughing, and he was still shaking, he was trembling, and he couldn''t stop.


    Vadim was shaking in terror and anticipation. The hunger of Alice was getting closer and closer. It opened its maw wide, to consume them and them alone, avoiding Alice at all costs.


    As much as it wanted to fulfill a desire, her hunger couldn''t be dismayed that Alice wouldn''t allow herself to succumb, but her hunger understood, and her hunger complied. It was inevitable, really. Alice was not going to become the god of this new world. Instead, it would be her hunger, and nothing more than that.


    Vadim knew of its genesis, its birthplace, and its death.


    Its creation.


    It was all because of the madman''s desire. His plan had been realized.


    His experiment, which involved playing a game with an entity whose sole purpose was to consume and destroy everything in its path, an ugly, displeasing, unsightly, horrid, disgusting, hideous, monstrous and horrible creature that could only ever bring suffering to those that encountered it.


    A beast or a demon, an aberrant or an anomaly...


    That thing was meant to feed upon its own kind.


    Upon its fellow creations, it devoured everything and anything that lay before it, be it an animal, plant, or... souls.


    That which it desired the most, above even fulfilling its own creator''s wishes; a hunger for spirit.


    This was what lay behind all that... or maybe it was simply madness? Who really knows?


    No one really does.


    Perhaps it''s a matter of perspective, that in its heart and mind, the answer lay there.


    Perhaps... perhaps not.


    We cannot be certain...


    Of anything at all.


    .....


    "Hey, dude?" Asked S-12.


    "Would you shut up for just a goddamn second? I''m trying to fix your arm for fuck''s sake." Said L-01 in annoyance.


    They were both still falling in slow-motion. Time was slowing down for everyone else but them. Even the universe around them was moving incredibly slow, as if time itself had slowed down.


    "No I mean, dude, look, that eye is GETTING CLOSER!!!"

 Pseudo-Human Deterring Realities

    S-12 and L-01 were both swept aside, as Alice''s Hunger took care of Vadim instead. Their voices drowned in an echo of the Void and its pulsating nature, swallowed in its endless emptiness, as if they never existed, as if they never lived in the first place. Was it really all for nothing? How meaningless it all turned out to be after everything had finally ended.


    ...Not quite.


    Regurgitating souls and spitting them out in different shapes and sizes, each individual soul was reborn as a new entity; an extension of itself or as another part entirely separate from what came before it; either way these things were living creatures now, they breathed and they spoke words even though none could hear them over one another due to how fast they talked amongst themselves while others tried desperately not to drown within themselves or become lost among so many minds clamoring together endlessly inside their heads.


    These beings, these souls, were born into a world where pain was commonplace ¨C most didn''t remember ever existing elsewhere prior to becoming aware again but some retained faint recollections (and only vague feelings) regarding previous lives spent elsewhere beyond here, somewhere far away from home...


    Their bodies were covered with the maws of the dead and of the damned. Eyes and eyes. Ears and ears. Fingers and toes. Teeth and tongues. Blood flowing freely throughout veins pumping fluid throughout organs made entirely out of meaty flesh rather than bone. Boneless they were, full of sinewy muscle instead of hard calcium deposits beneath skin which stretched tight over muscular limbs ending at hands without thumbs nor fingernails ¡ª digits ending abruptly before reaching any tips, making movement difficult as there isn''t much dexterity left in them after years spent languishing amidst decaying corpses rotting and around constantly decomposing around them causing constant discomfort from stench alone. Let alone when touching things gets tricky due to lack of proper tactile feedback since nerves aren''t really present anymore either; sensory receptors having long since died leaving nerve endings exposed raw exposed nerve tissue open air unable feel touch, temperature, pressure, texture, softness, hardness, smoothness, roughness, slick, stickiness, slipperiness, wetness, how dry, oilyness, greasyness, slimness and so forth ad infinitum. These entities also lacked reproductive capabilities given no genitalia remaining intact despite otherwise being made up of similar components albeit distorted horribly grotesquely twisted into shapes unrecognizable as human beings yet recognizable nonetheless due to their general shape still resembling that of humans albeit twisted horribly grotesquely misshapen malformed misproportioned asymmetrical uneven mismatched lopsided disproportionate off-balance imbalanced disproportionate asymmetry irregular and.........


    Ah! I have gone too far!


    These entities, these souls, they had their bodies, or at-least a form that resembled their former bodies. But it wasn''t enough. It was never enough. For what good is a body if it lacks function?


    S-12 and L-01 were in a similar predicament, however, it was a bit different, in their case, their souls had been rebirthed into new vessels, vessels that were completely different from what they once possessed.


    L-01''s Biomechanical body and metal heart remained, however his limbs had grown back and they were organic, yet his head was still made out of wires and cables. And his face, it looked like it was stitched onto his body with thick black stitches. His eyes were hollow, and he lacked any semblance of life in his body, aside from his lips that, even when rested, resembled a grin or a smile. The monitor on his chest displayed his name, and that''s it. A simple L-01, with nothing else to show.


    S-12''s body, however, had become completely different, and it had changed from the inside out, as his flesh had been replaced by minerals and rocks, as if he was an entity of the Earth itself. The rocks were a bright yellow color and were shaped like spikes and needles. It looked as if he was covered by a rock-hard exoskeleton, and his eyes had been replaced with gemstones, as they shined with the color of the sun. However, a monitor lay on his head, his name was still there, with the simple title of S-12.


    But their minds remained intact, and they were aware of everything around them, even though they had experienced the worst out of all. Their bodies had been torn to pieces, shredded to bits and then put back together again in an imperfect way, as if it was done by an amateur, as if they were simply put together like a jigsaw puzzle.


    ...


    "Huh...?! What happened?" Zabulus spoke. He stood in a void of nothingness, his eyes darted around the empty space surrounding him. He was lost, confused and scared, but at most he felt... alone.


    There was no sound in the darkness except for his breathing and the beating of his heart, his thoughts racing as the last thing he recalled was an eye of the sky opening up into a gaping maw of endless hunger. Then it consumed him and spat him out. But what was the result of all this? Was this hell? Had his sins finally caught up to him?


    "Here we are again. Zai¡ö¡ö, have you found your name yet?" The familiar voice of the thing spoke. The entity, or whatever it was, was still nameless and still formless, and was still just a thing, an it. The name it spoke, he still hasn''t found it. ".......''s......."


    ".......''s......" The entity''s words were strange, and it was speaking nonsense. "You''ve forgotten your own name." The entity said.


    "What are you talking about?!" He yelled at it. "We''ve been through this before... Listen..." He put a hand over his left eye socket. "Just tell me... what am I?"


    "You''re an immortal, Zai¡ö¡ö. You''re an anarchist, you''re an eldritch horror, a monster, and a nightmare. But most importantly, you''re an entity that shouldn''t even exist." It spoke, as the name was being whispered, yet the last part of the name sounded as if it was being scratched out. "An aberrant existence that shouldn''t even be possible, that is the result of your birth."


    "What... are... you?" He spoke.


    The entity didn''t respond.


    "Answer me!"


    "I am an entity that exists solely for the sake of existing, I have no identity nor self nor purpose. Part of that is a lie."


    "My existence... I am god... I... My mother granted me power, she... she''s an eldritch entity. A god of her own. My father was... an eldritch horror. But... but how do I exist? How do I live, in this state of existence, how does everything exist around me? Why should I suffer as a god?!"


    "Gods are fickle, aren''t they, Zai¡ö¡ö? The world is filled with false idols. Some are gods, others are monsters, others are simply mortals, but most are just puppets dancing for an audience that isn''t even there." Its body came into vision, a path of eyes leading towards a blackened figure with a glowing eye above its head. It had many wings, all made of eyes, and a body that seemed to stretch out for miles. "But in the end, the show goes on. For whom does it play, in a world past the edge of eternity?" The thing spoke, as the void seemed to grow smaller. The entity was no longer in front of him, but was instead growing closer. The thing was now towering over Zabulus, and the only thing that could be seen in its eye, was the endless abyss that reflected his current state, a broken shell of a person that he once was, an old, weary, worn and broken individual. And in the abyss, the monster could be seen. It had been there the entire time, and it was waiting for its chance to strike, its opportunity to pounce. Though, it would not dare hurt its own master. The thing, however, it was a completely different story, for the monster was still a monster at heart.


    "Tell me... What should I do? I don''t want to hurt anyone anymore."


    "Your actions are no longer yours, Zai¡ö¡ö. They''re now the actions of a force that controls your every thought and deed. Your nature as an anomaly is not one of the mind, but one of the heart and soul, as you''ve been an eldritch being, whose nature has corrupted you into the monstrosity you now are, for a reason, and that is the nature of the eldritch." It spoke. "That is the true nature of an entity, Zai¡ö¡ö, you have no free will, nor control, and your fate has been sealed."


    Did it lie? Did it tell the truth? Zai¡ö¡ö couldn''t know. The entity continued speaking, and it told Zabulus of a time long before he ever existed, of a world that was filled with nothing. Absolute nothing. The fear it felt was not existential, it was not a dread of an unknown that was beyond its grasp, it was not a terror of being unable to understand or comprehend. The fear it felt was simply of being unable to feel. To feel the coldness of death, to feel the emptiness of life, and to feel the emptiness of being nothing. That was the fear that it felt when he came into existence, and that was the fear that the entity had felt in the beginning.


    Zabulus stood there, and stared at the entity, the entity stared at him. He felt... anger.


    "What should I do?" The entity spoke. The question wasn''t rhetorical. It was rhetorical in a way. The question was directed to itself, and to the one that would answer the question that it had posed, the question it asked itself, and to the one that answered it. It was a paradox, and it was a question with no answer, but there was always a way to find an answer. Zabulus thought to himself. What would he do?


    "No more will I be controlled by the likes of you!" He screamed, as he charged at the entity, and he tried to punch its eye, the eye that lay in its head, the one that was looking down at him. It was a clich¨¦ move, it was a stupid move. How stupid can you be, Zai¡ö¡ö? And yet he tried to strike it, the eye, the one that was watching, observing. The one that had always seen everything, and the one that had always been watching.


    It was a foolish move, a foolish attempt to fight against something greater than yourself, an attempt to overcome something that is much greater than yourself, something that is much more powerful than yourself. But Zai¡ö¡ö was determined, and he wasn''t going to give in.


    His right fists landed directly on the entity''s eye, as he struck it hard, and a crack formed on the surface, a small fissure on the iris of its eye. It was not a great hit, not a great attack, it wasn''t even a powerful blow, it was just a weak punch, but it was a punch nonetheless. The crack on the entity''s eye began to glow, and a dark purple aura seeped out, as the entity screamed, and it screeched, a blood-curdling, bone chilling, soul-crushing scream.


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    Was it Zai¡ö¡ö that had done that, or was it the entity that had screamed? Was it even Zai¡ö¡ö that had hit the entity''s eye? Was it the entity that self inflicted its pain?


    Zai¡ö¡ö watched, and then he watched some more, as the entity''s body was engulfed by a purple fog, and its form twisted and warped and changed into a less monstrous, yet hideous copy of what can be called ''itself''. It was still an entity, still an entity, and it was an aberrant existence. It was an aberration. It was a monster. A monster with no form. No shape. And it had no eyes. The entity that had been created by Zai¡ö¡ö''s own actions and words was no longer the thing that had spoken, it was no longer the thing that had spoken to him.


    "Ah....Aaaah..........Ah..............." It said, or it moaned something that could not be described with words, it was not something that could be heard. The words it said were indescribable and unrecognizable. Its tongue coming out half-way, as its body changed in size, it was like an amoeba. Its body stretched, as if trying to reach the sky. It grew and shrank, it changed shapes, it distorted and distorted. Bowels forming on the outer part of its flesh. Its body growing and shrinking, its limbs stretching out and then shrinking back. It was as if it was trying to become something that it was not, but it could not become what it wanted to be. It could not become what it needed to be.


    Yet again, it screamed, screeched, as it cried and wailed in the endless void of its existence. "I need more." Its voice said.


    "Wh...at?" He said. Zai¡ö¡ö was confused. What was the entity even saying, what was the point of this conversation?


    "I need...more...of you... I...want....to...con...su..." Its words were fragmented, incoherent, and nonsensical. But Zabulus understood it perfectly. It needed his flesh and his body for its own purposes.


    The entity stopped speaking.


    Its body began to grow, to stretch, and then it grew larger and larger and larger until it had become a large blob that filled the entirety of this empty, void.


    The once congested minds of all the beings that had been regurgitated and vomited by this thing began to slowly melt into the emptiness. It wasn''t an unpleasant experience, rather, a calming one that made one forget all their worries and stress in the universe.


    A tree spoke, in a single mind that seemed to stretch on endlessly, its thoughts being repeated, echoing in an empty, vacant space. "How...? How did we get here?" The trees voice spoke. Its voice echoed throughout the void that stretched on infinitely. This place was empty, yet the presence of these entities, its host and counterparts were making their existence felt. These were creatures that didn''t know where they were. They were creatures that couldn''t explain what was happening to them.


    The fleshly planet began to shrink. It''s mass being reduced to nothing. The planet itself began to break into small pieces and float away. As it fell into pieces, more of its mass dissipated. Soon after the last pieces fell from the fleshly planet, all of its mass vanished as well. Only for the checkerboarded floor that the eye of a monster and the maws of the dead and the damned devoured and swallowed whole.


    "Help us!"


    "Please..."


    "No more, make this end!"


    They all screamed as it all went away, as if this was something out of an old cartoon movie from the 90''s, as if they were being drawn into the background, or the background was drawing closer to them. They were just screaming, as their body parts slowly grew back and became part of a giant meaty creature that had many faces, many monitors. The monitor masquerade, which might as well be the final one, had ended and had begun again. There were so many monitors.


    It''s all a lie, and it''s all an illusion. It''s an optical illusion, a trick of the light.


    "No! No! Don''t... Alice! No!"


    It was Zai¡ö¡ö, the god, he had finally appeared again, but no one else saw, no one was there, not in their own mind. And the entity continued devouring the entire realm. Her hunger¡ª or, perhaps it was simply her desire, had devoured everything, as Zabulus'' face looked like he had been crying blood.


    "I have no choice left..." He whispered to himself, his words unheard as his consciousness was lost to the psyche within him, growing larger than his soul could handle, his metaphysical body breaking under its weight.


    "Zai¡ö¡ö......." The name, as if he had been erased entirely, replaced with the new entity. But Zabulus'' essence, it was still there, it existed, somewhere. Maybe in another timeline, maybe in the past. "Con...sume... the names of those you know, to become yourself again. To become the one true you."


    "Ah... yes." Zabulus chuckled. "I understand."


    "What... is your name?" The entity spoke, its eyes glowing as its voice echoed through the darkness.


    "Zaig¡ö." Zai¡ö¡ö, now Zaig¡ö, said his name slowly. "And yours?" He asked the entity.


    The entity''s head grew larger and its maw grew wider as the question was posed, as it spoke, the entity''s maw opened, a sound coming out. Its maw, or mouth, grew, as the entity grew and changed. Its flesh and organs bulged, its maws and mouths widening as the words were uttered. The uttered words echoed for a good minute, that minute turning to hours, weeks and eventually years. But that which was said had only taken mere seconds, but those few seconds stretched out for what felt like days, months, or years.


    "...''t.......''t....''ts......." The entity''s muffled words, were no longer coherent.


    "I see." Zaig¡ö smiled, but it quickly faded after he recalled where he was. "But... I ask you... Who am I, truly, to know what will become of me?"


    "...''t.........''s......."


    "And I will do everything that I can to change that," Zaig¡ö replied with a muffled voice that was not his own, for he had lost it when he entered his soul once again.


    An opening was created in the darkness, revealing the light below, mushrooms and a dark land below, and other things alike.


    Vetro climbed in through the darkness; however, the darkness did not follow. Instead he fell onto a hard floor made of bricks, hitting the back of his head against a large mushroom, he rolled down the mushroom''s stem and fell onto the ground.


    Whatever he did, it interrupted the little chat that had occurred, and the world of darkness was destroyed, along with any trace of Zaig¡ö being there.


    Zaig¡ö fell down not too long after, landing softly on a large shroom.


    "Agh..." Zabulus, as Vetro called him, stood up, dusting himself off. He then looked around, confused. "Wait, Vetro? What the fuck?! What are you doing here...?!"


    "That''s what I should be fucking asking you instead, you fucking traitor." Vetro said angrily, his hands clenched. The darkness and silence of the cave and the forest surrounding it were broken. "What happened... to Guillerme.... what happened to Idalia?!" Vetro asked, his hand grasping his fist tightly as if he were preparing to punch his own hand repeatedly, or to crush it between his own fingers and bones. "You took away everything! EVERYTHING! And yet... you''re just standing there, doing god knows what up there and you have the GALL to even question my intentions?! YOU, you''re supposed to be better than that..." He paused momentarily before continuing. "...aren''t we friends...?" His tone changed from that of anger, hatred and betrayal to a sombre, saddened tone. "No... right, you''re the one who killed Aeneus. You''re the one who let your brother and sister become a fucking tree over a name, and worst of all, you let Alice go mad. No, you made Alice go fucking mad... That... I think that was your mistake. You messed with a being''s mind. That was your biggest mistake."


    "No... Alice was born mad, I think...? I can''t say for sure." Zaig¡ö''s head turned slightly to the right.


    "Don''t you fucking look away from me now!" Vetro grabbed Zaig¡ö by the neck and forced him onto the large mushroom that had cushioned his fall, and was also being stood on. His grip tightening around Zaig¡ö''s neck and throat. His eyes filled with murderous rage as they met the monster he was looking at, a monster, or an alien of some kind. "You''re not getting out of here, at-least, not without explaining to me... what happened, to Alice and the rest! I''ve forgiven you over Aeneus... I tried to be forgiving... But I never got any explanation! Why did Idalia have to fucking die?! Where is she, and what happened to Alice?! And why Guillerme!?"


    "Alice... she has gone mad, you are right about that. However she went mad long before this point and place. Long before I met her..." Vetro let go of his throat and backed off as Zaig¡ö coughed a bit before catching his breath. His eyes were still filled with confusion as Zaig¡ö spoke, not entirely grasping everything. "And... Idalia. Ah. Idalia." He sat down. "She was a great sister, she had all the knowledge I needed, she was always helpful... she... she loved me greatly... but, her death was not on my hand. She was in my way..." Zaig¡ö continued speaking, his voice not wavering once as if there wasn''t a single ounce of guilt in his entire body. "But... If I could go back... I''d stop myself from doing what I did, honest." He looked up. His hands placed over his eyes as he sighed deeply. It was like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders and it had been replaced with immense grief. His body slumped down slightly.


    "Then... why can''t you fucking kill me too!?" The silence was broken again by Vetro shouting in anger and resentment and his grief. His fists were balled together. "I''ve stood by your side through it all, I''ve been by your side, even if you were doing wrong, I stayed, just for the hope..." Part of that, was a lie.


    "For... for the hope..." he let go of the words and let his mouth open and closed like he had a lot to say but nothing actually came out. Like if someone held the button on a mic down, nothing comes out, except the sound of their own voice trying to escape.


    "Because you''re a fucking immortal soul, Vetro. Because of it." His tone changed, becoming more of a dark tone, almost a whisper. "I can not kill you. Not for your sins, not because you deserve it or anything of that sort, no. But because we are one and the same."


    "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, Zabulus?"


    "No matter what... it is our destinies that will lead us to different paths. And it is our destinies to walk different walks of life." He recalled a few words of wisdom from the memories of the now forever-gone Idalia. "There are three fundemental ways of how one''s destiny is shaped. One is that of the self. It is that which a person chooses to do and chooses not to. The second, is that of fate. A force beyond ourselves, our understanding.... Our control... something we have to accept... the third..." he pointed to Vetro, not daring to meet his eyes with a finger covered in black ichor, as his hand, or his body had changed from human to inhuman. It was a mix between the two. "...is the result of that which we have done... the first is that which you decide on. You can either accept or refuse it."


    "Oh yeah. How do you then explain your existence?!"


    "The second and the first. The path which was forged by my own volition and fate."


    "Hmmm? What the fuck are you talking about!?" He stomped. He had enough.


    "Simply put, I was always meant to die. But sometimes I die because I want to. Myself and others, even those in the realm of the gods."


    "You... wanted to do this? Why!?" He yelled at the entity standing next to him, standing tall despite the circumstances of the situation they found themselves in and the fact he towered above most.


    "I thought... That maybe my mother wouldn''t forgive me... that if my siblings or my brother... wouldn''t forgive me either, that... maybe I could bring back someone who died long before. But I was a child. A lost child, even if I knew better than to do so. I don''t know anymore. I''m lost." Zaig¡ö''s head was hung as his hands were on his chest in an almost hugging-like posture. He had a saddened expression. "But it''s too late now. I''ve already committed so much evil, that there''s no point in turning back. I''ll let you take control, now. I need to rest. I''m so, so very sorry."


    "Zai......g¡ö......?" The name was whispered by a figure on his chest.


    Zaig¡ö looked down to meet eyes with a purple entity.


    His name wasn''t lost anymore.


    There was a tear, as if time had folded in on itself. Time was not destroyed by the event. But the world was, instead, just recreated anew.

 Temporal Chaos and The Rebirth of Reality

    The tear that seemed as though it was like a rip through space and time itself, was not even a rip at all, or a tear through the dimensions and planes of reality, as the concept that we had come to know of it as would not even be formed until hundreds or perhaps even billions of years had passed, but rather it was more of an anomaly that simply ''existed.'' This was the first anomaly that ever occurred in the universe. An anomalous event that never happened before.


    And then the first thing to be created from the void, was...


    An apple.


    A single green apple fell into existence from a tear in reality. The tear seemed to be nothing more than a rip that had been made by a god, or by a deity that had been created in order for him to travel through and observe, in a state of being.


    The apple fell as the air whirled around it in an odd wind that was moving counter-clockwise and seemed to be going faster and faster around the fruit as the apple continued its fall downwards, downwards, into an unknown and unknown place of the abyss below the surface of existence. By this point; The Void in Blue was no longer in existance; not as an actual thing that exists and was not just an idea or thought.


    In the place of this anomaly, a tree formed, the trunk was large and its bark was brown with white stripes running across it.


    One time, the tree grew a red apple.


    One time, the tree grew a white apple.


    One time, the tree grew a yellow and purple apple.


    Sometimes they grew in all three shades, the tree that was growing in a black void had no roots at its base.


    It was suspended in the dark by the sheer force of gravity which was so great it could only sustain one single dying star at its end, this star shined bright as a sun would, but only in its final hours.


    The tree''s limbs would sprout branches, leaves would begin to bloom. The black void in the shape of a giant apple core grew a mouth and had begun to chew on its own flesh and the bark that held it. Blood dripped out from the sides of the tree''s limbs and a pool of it grew larger at its base, spilling onto the floor.


    Vetro saw this in the flesh. His mind was racing, his vision blurry as the world was shifting and warping itself, changing its course and twisting the laws of reality to match the anomaly... a nature in which it shouldn''t have been.


    He looked to the left, his right, then his left, his right. And again. It wasn''t a rapid movement, just one where the world kept spinning, in and out of focus as it was.


    "P.......s.........."


    "p...............s....."


    He had spoken! he had uttered words and he spoke! Despite his condition, his eyes and body. He had uttered words.


    "Pha.....s....." Vetro uttered, the words fragmented as they came in small bursts.


    The universe had become a series of shapes and sizes, the sky had grown into an array of bright shades of pink and green, blue and red, orange and yellow, purple and white. It was beautiful, like a kaleidoscopic flower that bloomed in the darkness of a star that died before its time.


    "Phant.....os...!" His words... No, the name he was attempting to utter to call upon her, his book. The book of a dead man, the words were not spoken, instead they were heard.


    ''I...am here, Vetro, I''ll always be by your side.'' She smiled, although not literally, rather that he felt the smile. ''I watched... I was pained, to see all that the demon had done. It... hurts, knowing the monster he is, now.''


    "He''s dead." He stated. And it was true. The anomaly, the void, it all was dead.


    ''No, he is not. Something is wrong... that is likely due to how time is behaving.'' She spoke.


    He was still looking in front of himself, as reality shifted and twisted into an unrecognizable amalgamate of colours. His mouth, opening slightly, he whispered; "Ready to shift reality?" and as he spoke these words his eyes rolled up to look forward into her.


    "I..." She ''nodded'', the rest of her sentence unspoken.


    The apple fell to the ground with an echoing crack, its core falling through, breaking apart into a thousand pieces that scattered around the void, each one glowing with different shades and colours.


    "I''ll always be there..." A voice spoke. "Hungering, forever..."


    With an inked pen that never runs out.


    The ink was a mix of black and grey, an unnatural colour. Like all of existence. The pen was never running, but the words it wrote were. An empty book, as it had no words to begin with, however it was filled with knowledge. And the pen never ran, yet its ink was a deep, deep red that oozed out of it and onto a white, pure sheet that had no words at all to fill it.


    The pen that Vetro possessed in the depths of his heart, the heart that held an old story. A love story. The pen was now stained in blood from the heart of his soul. The love of his life. A story that ended in a tragic end that never was. The story wasn''t finished, however, the chapter that it held, that was written down with bloodied fingers was stained and stained until the pages were no longer a story.


    The first chapter, Cruelty Mistress. The first ignition of a love story. In a way that never happened nor ever should''ve been.


    The second chapter, Disgust & Hunger. The second ignition, a short, yet terrible story. It had all the right elements to be a tragedy, a true one. A revolting tragedy, yet a beautiful, terrible and horrific tale that never was, and never should''ve been.


    The final chapter, Pseudo-Eldritch. An anomaly in a love story that never existed, it was an aberration to all that was good and holy. It was wrong, a monster and nightmare, a nightmare of the world, the universe and everything.


    The story ended in tragedy, of which it had already started with, a tragedy that was never told but was always felt, an emotion of a pain and sorrow that no one ever knew existed.


    Reality became a nightmare, as the love that was once beautiful, was gone, and the beauty it once had, was now twisted and perverted. Reality no longer existed as it was once, it now became the opposite of everything. Love no longer was true. Life no longer held meaning, the beauty of all that was once there was now gone.


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    Rewritten in his own twisted, sickening and disgusting manner of a mind, thoughts and ideas.


    "Good, good, Vetro. I see the fruits of your labor." Alice smiled in the background of a chaotic world, and a void of insanity.


    "What...? Alice?" His words were fragmented, incoherent, as he turned to face Alice, to find that she was in fact living, the maw in the sky following behind her in a strange manner, like it was hungry and waiting.


    "You were writing a beautiful story, Vetro. A love story. Of a nightmare and a horror, that is of course, how love truly works. Reality, it''s all an illusion. You know that, don''t you? I love Love! The love that the world hates and hates and loves! Did I tell you... that I love someone too? Yeah! That''s right! It''s... Guillerme... And he loved me too... isn''t it so wonderful that two people in love are willing to do anything for one another...? If you wrote a story about us two... What would it say?" Her words were in fragments as well. Perhaps because she was never truly speaking in the first place. "It wouldn''t say anything, Vetro! You can not put Love and hate on the same pedestal, for love can only hate and never love! But, as you''d know, the inherent contradiction and hypocrisy of all this would only make me laugh at my own expense! So I''ll let you finish your story, and maybe you''ll find it to be a perfect fit. Of course, however, if you truly want it to end... just end it." She smiled, her teeth had all become eyes, her eyes had become an eye of the damned. "Love is a paradox! Love is an eternal struggle, a conflict that will continue on forever. But love will also continue on in the form of conflict, as the two lovers that have united themselves will always continue to be at conflict with one another. So long as one of them continues to live, the other can''t live without. Just as the purpose of a man of war is to be fought against and killed, and the purpose of an artist is to create art, and a philosopher, to contemplate philosophy, and a politician to make politics. The purpose of love, is to keep loving and continue on being alive."


    She spoke those final words, as her head twisted on her shoulders and her mouth opened, spewing blood and ichors before her head twisted back on its shoulders, her eyes turning back into an eye, and the rest of them closing. A show she had prepared.


    The maw of the void had dissipated into nothing, the sky became that of the night. There was only one moon, and there were billions of stars and nebulas, the only thing missing from it was a sun. The moon had eyes covering every corner of it. They looked everywhere at once. The ground itself became a dark green with spots and splotches, with dark brown, red and black grass.


    There were many, many people in this world, many were walking down the path that had become twisted, many were walking down the path that became straight. Some walked up towards the moon.


    Some of the many, were walking up towards the sky and then the sun came from the ground as a green and purple beam, as it was falling upwards.


    Vetro had no proper words to say in response to Alice''s words, as he was still struggling with understanding what was even going on in the first place, and even though he wasn''t currently thinking straight. A thought still occurred to him, he had forgotten one thing; a love story, it should be short and simple and not complicated.


    So his brain told him.


    Then again... He didn''t write a short, simple and uncomprehending story... No. No... No. No no no. NO! NO!


    His story would not have a beginning. Not one, nor two, nor even three. Nor a million or a billion, but rather it had none. He had not been writing for the past eternity nor was he writing in any way shape or form, but he was creating it. It was the story that would be forever unfinished, unstarted, and unwritten and left to be the unknown by its author.


    This wasn''t a story of the past. This wasn''t a story of the present. This wasn''t a story of the future. It was a love story between the past and present, a story in the form of a tale of love, that will not exist, and never has and never should.


    He would not stop. For this story could not exist in its true form, a form of a love story of no-time, beyond conceptual limits.


    The ending of the story, however, could only be known to its readers and not its writer. For that was how love works, isn''t it? For the reader to be in charge of its ending. The ones who read and don''t know what to do with their own life and time.


    There is an old quote about time. "Time is what prevents everything to be happening all at once, and keeps us from seeing all of it at the same time."


    But, Vetro, the narrator of this story, can only narrate in his state.


    So he did. He narrated. He spoke. His mind was gone.


    "This is a love story. Between the two lovers that loved and loved, they loved and continued loving until the day they both died." He spoke, his voice no longer inaudible, as the narration took place in this situation, it started taking on a role of its own, no longer a role that the author gave to it but that was itself. A role of its own, in its true form and in the way in which it is written. A narration that no longer followed any order, or any sort of rules of the universe and beyond. "This love, was a twisted, disgusting thing that should''ve never been, and is one of those many flexible rules, one of the rules in the universe in which it would always break and bend and be broken. No matter if the rule is flexible or rigid. That is the thing with Love... The rule, the concept, the idea of love, in its purest form and nature. A trepidation of a feeling and an emotion that is unbridled, that cannot be restrained and cannot be understood or explained or put in words." Vetro''s speech became a whisper. "A monster, an anomaly, an abomination, an eldritch, a horror." The point kept repeating itself, but so was the nature of a story, so was the nature of all stories. After all, what made them a story? "But it''s okay, because sometimes... The rules and laws break down. And so they did. In ways that we cannot comprehend." Vetro was a storyteller. A madman and a monster in his own right. "The cognitive mind does not comprehend that of love, does not comprehend such a beautiful and horrid thing." The world around him began to melt away, as Vetro spoke. "This is the part of the story where a lover does whatever it takes for its love to survive and go on forever, mangled and twisted. For the sake of being able to stay, for the sake of not vanishing to nothing and not ceasing to exist. A love that consumes everything."


    The maw in the sky, following Alice in her own reality and realm, a realm in which it and the monster in the darkness had become a part of. An entity in its true form, the true form and nature that all monsters, demons, deities and monstrosities had taken on.


    "Albeit, it consumes not for sustenance but to fill the emptiness that lies in-between, in its core. In its heart of hearts and minds, if such a thing could have ever existed. For the monster was nothing but a void in-between the two realities that existed in the same space."


    The shards of what was once an apple had all combined and formed together again, becoming a black, rotten fruit.


    A tree had grown, with rotten fruits hanging from its rotten, black, twisted and contorted limbs, as the apples hung and decayed and died, rotting in the dead of night, and yet it remained alive. Two apples among the countless thousands and thousands. One was red. A bright and bloody shade, the second being purple in a dull and dark shade. The third was not so dull nor so dark. It had a shine, it shone with a color of yellowish purple, the third had a shape, a fourth and a fifth as well. They had a form, and they shined a bit less dimly, with a little less light than their sisters.


    They had shapes.


    Yet they had not fallen from the tree.


    An apple to keep the hunger inside.


    And a love to last till death.


    "And that is that, the end to my tale, my story. I''ve had fun, you know, writing a love story, but in the end it became more about myself and my own life and my past. I''m sorry, Alice, I never got to say. And I don''t expect your forgiveness." Softly. Softly, Vetro. Don''t cry, Alice won''t be able to hear. "And, Alice." She turned around. "Thank...you...." He was crying, yet it sounded sincere, he spoke it with genuine intent. "For allowing me to tell my story. Thank you." Vetro''s tears were flowing from his eyes now. He was holding back his tears and his sobbing and he was breaking apart. "For listening. I just want to say. I hope we meet again soon. In a future beyond this and our past." He sniffed and wiped his face on his forearm as he stopped crying and smiled, his ''eyes'' aching, the back of his eyelids were dry, but his ''eyes'' ached, they ached and ached, they were aching so much that his head hurt, and he could feel the throbbing that had begun in the center of his brain. He couldn''t help it any longer. His mind shattered, his will breaking apart. As his mind went silent.


    ''Sleep for a little bit... It will all be fine when you wake.'' Phantos'' voice softly said, comforting and soothing as a warm hug that would slowly fade into nothing. And Vetro listened, and he did so.


    A love to last till death.


    An apple to keep the hunger inside.


    A tree to hold them all.


    And a world to keep them all.


    In an apple.


    That fell from a dying, dead tree.


    And a girl who was hungry.

 Karma of a Love that is Starved

    "Ow! What are these things?!"


    "You''ll find out soon, my child."


    "I don''t want them!" Alice yelled.


    "It''s not about want, you see, this is about you growing up, and becoming something far more." Her mother spoke, a gentle and calm tone of a mother to her own child.


    "Like you?" She tilted her head.


    "Yeah... like me. Just a few of these will do."


    "Why won''t they stop?!"


    Alice began crying out, as she tried her hardest to shove these large, writhing, pulsating maggots inside of her, they had crawled through her eyes and were trying their absolute best to get to her throat and get her to swallow them. Her mother and her father were there, and there were others.


    The maggots squished themselves down, they were not just squishy but squelched, and they made sounds like wet slapping. Alice cried in agony and discomfort, as they went down, and she was forced to swallow, or to choke and not.


    "It''s okay Alice, eat your maggots, they''re healthy for you!"


    "It hurts!"


    "Ah... yes, but we must do it, dear Alice." A smile in her tone of words.


    Alice cried as her mother held her head and held down the squishy, wet, and cold maggots that squished themselves in once more.


    Her stomach could be seen through an x-ray in the operating room. Inside there were numerous maggots. Her stomach acid had melted and digested many of the smaller ones.


    They ate her intestines and her blood, they ate and ate and ate, they were still eating her flesh, but this was no normal stomach. This was an empty, cold and hollow space within a body, this body had no warmth in the middle. The inside of her abdomen was freezing cold and was filled with a strange liquid. The inside of the human body is usually warm, the average temperature was around 36 degrees, but this body was averaging -43 degrees when it was empty.


    She felt every moment of the maggots eating at the inside of her abdomen.


    But she did not know what she should have been feeling. She could not understand why her own intestines and her own organs and her own body would have wanted her to suffer in such agony. Or why her parents and these strangers wearing metallic masks would be subjecting her to this, and if this is all part of the process of ''growing-up'', she was not willing to subject her to it.


    "This feels so weird..." Alice spoke, her voice hoarse, as the maggots squirmed inside of her, she was losing her ability to speak, and her consciousness felt as if it was on a tight rope, holding itself on the brink of unconsciousness and consciousness. She didn''t understand. But she felt her sanity shattering like glass.


    "Ah... you''re doing very good so far, Alice... You''re not like the other kids, you know?" Her mother spoke with a smile as she moved her fingers around to try and massage the inside of Alice''s abdomen in order to stimulate the movement and the squishing of the larvae.


    "I am...?" Alice said, with a hoarse whisper in her tone.


    "Yes! The other kids usually..." She thought carefully of what her next words should be, "...well, their heads usually burst and they usually end-up like mush by now..." She trailed off.


    Alice didn''t say anything.


    "Ow! What are these things?!"


    "You''ll find out soon, my child."


    "I don''t want them!" Alice yelled.


    "It''s not about want, you see, this is about you growing up, and becoming something far more." Her mother spoke, a gentle and calm tone of a mother to her own child.


    "Like you?" She tilted her head.


    "Yeah... like me. Just a few of these will do."


    "Why won''t they stop?!"


    Alice began crying out, as she tried her hardest to shove these large, writhing, pulsating maggots inside of her, they had crawled through her eyes and were trying their absolute best to get to her throat and get her to swallow them. Her mother and her father were there, and there were others.


    The maggots squished themselves down, they were not just squishy but squelched, and they made sounds like wet slapping. Alice cried in agony and discomfort, as they went down, and she was forced to swallow, or to choke and not.


    "It''s okay Alice, eat your maggots, they''re healthy for you!"


    "It hurts!"


    "Ah... yes, but we must do it, dear Alice." A smile in her tone of words.


    Alice cried as her mother held her head and held down the squishy, wet, and cold maggots that squished themselves in once more.


    Her stomach could be seen through an x-ray in the operating room. Inside there were numerous maggots. Her stomach acid had melted and digested many of the smaller ones.


    They ate her intestines and her blood, they ate and ate and ate, they were still eating her flesh, but this was no normal stomach. This was an empty, cold and hollow space within a body, this body had no warmth in the middle. The inside of her abdomen was freezing cold and was filled with a strange liquid. The inside of the human body is usually warm, the average temperature was around 36 degrees, but this body was averaging -43 degrees when it was empty.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    She felt every moment of the maggots eating at the inside of her abdomen.


    But she did not know what she should have been feeling. She could not understand why her own intestines and her own organs and her own body would have wanted her to suffer in such agony. Or why her parents and these strangers wearing metallic masks would be subjecting her to this, and if this is all part of the process of ''growing-up'', she was not willing to subject her to it.


    "This feels so weird..." Alice spoke, her voice hoarse, as the maggots squirmed inside of her, she was losing her ability to speak, and her consciousness felt as if it was on a tight rope, holding itself on the brink of unconsciousness and consciousness. She didn''t understand. But she felt her sanity shattering like glass.


    "Ah... you''re doing very good so far, Alice... You''re not like the other kids, you know?" Her mother spoke with a smile as she moved her fingers around to try and massage the inside of Alice''s abdomen in order to stimulate the movement and the squishing of the larvae.


    "I am...?" Alice said, with a hoarse whisper in her tone.


    "Yes! The other kids usually..." She thought carefully of what her next words should be, "...well, their heads usually burst and they usually end-up like mush by now..." She trailed off.


    Alice didn''t say anything.


    "Alright, I''m gonna put another one inside of her," Alice''s father said, "This one is called the Ptero-gastus." He picked the larva that looked to be the biggest. It had two arms that protruded from the sides of the abdomen and its face was completely covered in a slimy membrane. "If I am correct, this one will go straight into her brain through her nose." Alice''s mother said, as the father took the large larvae and put his hands in his pockets, grabbing some kind of plastic tubing, and connecting it to his hand, then he stuck the other end into the child''s nose, "This might hurt a lot, my sweetie..." He said gently. The father pushed the tube upwards through Alice''s nose and into the soft tissue, she was breathing rapidly and almost panicking because the tube felt so unnatural in her nostrils. It went up further into the back of the skull and out into the soft grey matter of the brain.


    Alice began crying.


    It wasn''t the same.


    This felt wrong. So very, wrong. These were not her memories. They did not have her touch. It was not the memories that a being of the cosmos, a monster that has no need for these sorts of thoughts and experiences, a thing without a need for emotions, without any desire, without any knowledge or intelligence.


    These things, these... memories, these thoughts, these experiences, this intelligence, knowledge, desire...


    It didn''t make sense to Alice.


    No... these weren''t memories... they were experiences... of something else.


    Of... the maggots?


    Crying... sobbing... crying...


    She was still awake. She was crying, the maggots wriggled, the maggots squirmed, but the larvae were growing in her abdomen and in her skull and were now inside her eyes, the squish of the larval matter against the soft tissues of her insides was painful, it was excruciating. But Alice was unable to speak.


    This isn''t the right time...


    What is the right time...?!


    What is it all that you''ve done...


    The maggot in her brain spoke, as if envious or furious, "Why do they keep hurting us like this? Why do you get to experience it?! And have that pain?! If I could have that body, if I was in that position! I WOULD LOVE THAT!!! I''d make that pain stop... It would all be mine. I want those memories! I deserve to feel what she was feeling, and not to see these things from this point of view, from this disgusting perspective..."


    A different larva in her abdomen writhed as they were also squirming in Alice''s skull as her eyes were bleeding as the larval maggots ate at them.


    "They don''t even give you enough time to experience this! They didn''t give me time! To enjoy it!" They all said, "We don''t even have any time to think..."


    "Hm? What is this?" A doctor in his office, in a white laboratory in some remote and obscure research base. He turned the computer monitor that displayed the image. It was an X-Ray of the girl''s brain and her skull, the larvae were crawling through. Of course, he was merely an observer taking notes from the outside, as those in the inside conducted the experiment. "The larvae and maggots seem to be acting weirdly. Open her and get them out." A nurse did as instructed, the nurse wore the same sort of uniform. She was not one with a mind of her own. She had been a part of these sort of experiments, she had been there, and she had no name she could remember.


    "Ah... AAAAAHHH!" Alice was on the operating table.


    She looked at what she had become. Her arms, legs, her hair and her flesh, they were all just a bunch of maggots. Her flesh had turned black as the little ones that crawled inside her and squirmed in her flesh. Furious and Envious of a body they once had.


    She grabbed a sharp object from a tray. "I need to do this... I need to do this." The nurse said to herself. The sharp object was a long, razor-sharp scalpel. She opened the top part of Alice''s head with the blade of the knife, and Alice let out an ear-piercing, gut-wrenching, high-pitched and heart-rending scream, a scream that would stay in Alice''s memory for a lifetime. Her scream was the loudest Alice had ever made.


    "No... no, you''re okay. You''ll be fine, baby..." The nurse tried comforting the now motionless and half-eaten child, she kept her fingers over the wound, trying her absolute best to stop the bleeding. But the child didn''t care about anything but the agony and horror, Alice''s consciousness began drifting away.


    Her brain was exposed, each lobe with a maggot. They weren''t eating her, though. They were simply sitting inside, as if they were her own memories. In reality, the larvae and maggots, the very thing that had been eating at her, were now the thoughts, memories and feelings inside her skull. She was losing herself to them. They were becoming Alice, the girl that was once there.


    They squished their way through the fleshy insides of a human as they were exposed to the dry air and the nurse staring. She placed the scalpel down back on the tray and grabbed a pair of forceps, which was an odd and bizarre choice considering the size of these larvae and maggots that were in her skull and in her body and in her eyeballs, yet the nurse had no clue how else to do the extraction of the larvae, but in her mind, a forceful removal would''ve probably done a number on Alice, so, she used a more delicate and careful way.


    A careful way, so careful, with no chance to lose anything, or anyone.


    Carefully. She grabbed a larva by the end of one of its many appendages. The appendage had a mouth in it, as the maggot in the back of its throat could extend it.


    Her hand was shaking and her skin was cold.


    Slow, she had no choice to lose her focus, as these were not normal larvae and maggots, rather ones that were eating into Alice''s body, ones that used to be children too, and as a consequence, it would''ve probably killed Alice if her body had been completely consumed, if her body had been taken away from herself. It was likely not to happen as it hadn''t ever happened before in such an experiment.


    She grabbed one larval thing after another, she was getting more confident and as their numbers got lesser and lesser.


    The rest of her body, however, was now nothing but a bunch of white little things moving around her skin, with little black dots on her skin all around.


    "Oh my... how cruel of these little creatures..." Her mother gasped as she looked down at Alice''s now half-consumed body. "What a waste."


    "You''ve done well. We don''t know if it will kill her. We''ve never tried anything like this, so... it will most probably... be her downfall," A male in a hazmat-like suit stated. As if there were an audience, though in actuality it was just the two doctors that were operating, there weren''t many to begin with.


    Alice stared back at them. As if begging to understand why this was being done to her. Her eyes were watering from her tear ducts, and she had lost much weight in comparison to what she once was. A crude look in the mirror would be enough, if one even cared for her. She had only bones left, bones with skin, and nothing more. No muscles to carry any weight.

 Clutch of a Broken Life

    "Ah...."


    "..."


    "Hold still," The male in the hazmat-like suit ordered as Alice''s arms had been cut, her limbs were in an unsalvageable state, as was most of her. The nurse that had failed to remove the larvae earlier, now had the duty of removing her flesh and bones to save what she could of her.


    Her legs, as she could not move or control her body, were already taken, cut off right through the femoral shaft, she could no longer see or feel what was under there, a layer of skin covering the end of what once was, now merely a stump, a severed stump that would''ve most certainly caused Alice her demise.


    The rest of the limbs she couldn''t feel.


    The once-open wounds were now closed with a tight sealant and covered with gauze.


    "Alrighty... so... I''m going to have to start... with cutting through some tissue..." The nurse''s hand was already at her stomach, and Alice could see that her body was not what she remembered it being as she had previously had her flesh and bone consumed. The male doctor was also preparing a few tools, a saw and a small scalpel, and he was ready. The tools weren''t made of metal. Rather, some sort of cyber-technology which was extremely sharp. With an X on it, and an odd-looking logo.


    Alice''s head was tilted back, so all that she saw was a ceiling with bright fluorescent lights illuminating the place. The lights focused on her dead eyes, almost blinding her. The lights were used as a tactic in order to stop her from looking around.


    A sharp pain coursed through her chest, it felt almost as if she had been ripped open and that everything inside had been violently torn apart and exposed to the elements, and she had no strength to look at what had become of her anymore.


    She had been through hell, her insides were now just a mush, she could barely breathe and there was no telling what they''d done to the organs she had. She felt helpless, her life was gone, she wanted to scream out, but couldn''t even produce the most minimal sound that a child should have. No words left, no words left.


    "Oh... is she a failure... too...?" Alice barely heard the voice of her mother ask somebody.


    Alice wanted to die, she wished for that. For someone to take her, to free her, or to kill her...


    And at that moment she felt the cold air of her own flesh and bone, or what was remaining, touch the surface of her lungs as they were cut away, presumably with something akin to a knife, but not a blade... No. It was more as if her very lungs were being torn open. Alice could not breathe anymore. Her blood began to run through the rest of the table she laid, as if a fountain had opened on it.


    "Don''t let her die," the voice of an unknowable figure in an orange and black striped hazmat suit spoke. "Not yet. The maggots are not dead. Not fully." She couldn''t see him but her eyes darted as quickly as a fly as she tried, to no avail. Alice''s mother had an odd look on her face. Her eyes darted too, and she had the same look on her face.


    Alice tried to turn, her head trying turning in different ways to find the person, to look at them. But her head was locked in place by a sort of lock. She didn''t have any strength to turn her head, and she knew that.


    She wanted them all to feel her pain, her despair. She wanted them to feel her rage and hatred, the hatred towards this family, her parents, the doctors, and the experiments.


    She wanted them to feel all this unrelenting hunger in her open stomach, a hunger that was devouring her organs and flesh.


    Alice had no idea when she''d get to stop the torture, or when her pain would end.


    Alice had no clue how much she hated herself for living through it all, for going through this experiment. She was only ten years old, and she had been subjected to an endless torment and a hell that she couldn''t imagine anyone else experiencing.


    She had been born for no purpose.


    Her mother spoke to the hazmat wearing figure. "Ah... so she isn''t a failure, huh?" The voice was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief and joy.


    The man had to think, he did, after-all. But he was certain that it was not the child''s fate that was the most unfortunate, it was the fact that her parents had made it, she was a successful project. "No." The male stated. Alice''s father spoke, "But... Why not make more?"


    "Why would you?" The male asked, "If all goes right from here on, she will be our key to bring ruination to Ghendri, the machine god, the false king of the stars. That god is false. And... the universe is not for it to take. Not for them, not for anyone but this child."


    "Ahh... but this child..."


    "She''s a weapon," The hazmat suited person spoke with an emotionless, empty tone, as if speaking with an artificial mind, "She-"


    A microphone squeaked, interrupting their conversation. The nurse had not left and was staring. And she was listening. It was an interesting conversation. "Ahem, I hate to interrupt your little chatter," Said the observing doctor, "But you have a job at hand now, do you not?"


    They both shut up.


    Alice''s body twitched.


    "Agh..."


    "...?"


    "She is not feeling any more discomfort, you won''t have to be in such a state, my sweet little child. Soon, it''ll make sense to you once you grow up. It won''t be long, I promise." Her mother caressed Alice''s hollow cheeks with a smile plastered on her face in a loving and reassuring gesture. Her face, her appearance, all were an utter farce, an ugly truth hidden under a lie to keep her daughter oblivious.


    ...


    A white rabbit hopped about, its fur, a brilliant, shining, snowy colour, with beautiful eyes that shone in a deep shade of red. It hopped, as did a white bunny with its own, shining fur and a dazzling red eye. It hopped about and about, passing by armed men, guards falling to the ground without noticing that they had died in the first place as the creature simply ran along the corridor, past them, on its four, small, adorable, paws. They had their heads tilted as if their brains had all exploded outwards and they had not felt any of the pain of such.


    A door labeled ''Experimentation and Laboratory 9 - No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed''. A sign that stated: ''Do not touch any subjects in this room lest you wish for their death''. An odd sight in an experiment in the lab.


    "Alice, are you alright?" a female nurse asked, holding a stump of hers, the unconscious and limp body of a small child.


    "Yes," the small girl answered, and she was awake, alive.


    "Oh, my. She is alive..." Her eyes lit up in surprise as the girl responded.


    The doctor''s face turned cold as she said that she knew that the girl could not possibly answer in her current state and condition, yet she did.


    The nurse, though not in the same way of dress, had a surgical mask over her face and eyes.


    She looked into Alice''s eyes and tried to look for signs of life in the girl, and found that she was alive, not unconscious nor in a coma, but rather completely and wholly alive.


    "I''m hungry." Alice responded. "And thirsty." She said next. Alice''s eyes looked back.


    A voice could be heard coming from inside the laboratory as a small voice of a young, presumably 9 year old, child was talking in the background, that was what the rabbit heard. The white and pink bunny had ears like a bat''s ears.


    "Well... Alice, be a good girl and stay here, we''ll all be back, okay? You''re gonna be fed." Her father spoke. He had been speaking with a male, someone from the company that ran the lab.


    "Stay put, darling, I''m right over there!" Alice''s mother called as she left for the same door.


    The room was dark, dark in that it had no source of light.


    Click.


    The lights turned on. This time however, she was not blinded by them.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Tip-tap, tip tap...


    Her heart had begun racing and pounding as she heard something enter the room. But as she managed to finally move her head a little bit, she saw a rabbit, a white rabbit.


    "Oh, hello..."


    She looked to where her arms once had been.


    She had to wonder what was wrong with the world, with humanity. She couldn''t find an explanation.


    She was a child that was treated like an experiment in her family''s laboratory.


    Alice could only see a rabbit, that had its paw extended as a greeting in her general direction, it had been there, and then there had only been the darkness surrounding her in the room. She was left in a state of confusion as to why a rabbit could be here, how it was here in the first place.


    "God... what the fuck have they done...?" A fragmented voice of nowhere spoke, perhaps it came from the rabbit, perhaps it did not.


    "Bunny...?"


    "Ah... Yes... hello... I''ve come here, with an escape plan," It smiled. It''s pearly white teeth showed as it hopped closer and spoke, "I have a few ideas. And I''m sorry that I am late, I had to dispose of those who would seek your body."


    Alice was not in a state of mind where her brain and thought processes could understand what this meant, or if she understood the reason the creature was apologizing and the meaning of what this meant.


    "Wh-... Hey... I''m hungry."


    "Well, after I get you out of this horrible place, perhaps you can eat me." It joked.


    "I can eat living things?" Alice asked in a curious tone.


    "Ah... Well... yes." It was an unusual answer, as it wasn''t exactly a rabbit''s typical answer. "I''m sorry, but if it would help your case, I have a small pack that can get us through a couple of weeks at least. Oh, and my name is ¨~¨~¨~.


    "¨~¨~¨~? Ah... my name... um... it''s Alice..." She said as her mind drifted off into space for a brief second as she had forgotten her name, but then it quickly clicked back in and came up. She didn''t remember her mother nor her father calling her Alice, or by any name at all. But she didn''t care, she just simply wanted out of here. So much so that she''d trust anybody who says that they could get her out.


    .....


    The girl dressed in blue stared up, her face contorted, a look on her face, that one might say she was trying to not show her sadness. Tears fell from her face and she started to cry, the world spinning faster around her in her mind. She was sat on the checkered ground below her as the following maw and hole of reality fixed themselves. She held the dark body that once belonged to a man she loved, a dark body that belonged to a man she hated with all her being and a dark body that belonged to the man who told her a story of love and death in a place where love should never exist.


    The body was never any of theirs, however. The only exception being the anomaly, the soul eater Zaig¡ö.


    The world was silent.


    She sobbed in silence.


    "What was his last story?" She whispered to herself. "Vetro... I am sorry for ever hating you. Even if I..."


    The memory of her parents and the maggots suddenly hit her in an instant, as it finally occurred to her that what she was now experiencing had all happened in some twisted, cruel version of fate and destiny that had come and had taken its course and made itself manifest on the poor, miserable, unfortunate and unlucky soul that is Alice.


    "You didn''t have to do that. Not to me, not to children." Alice stated to herself in realization. "My mother didn''t even need that to be a monster to me. She was the monster from the beginning. A parasite that fed off of me, a parasite, like these fucking maggots and their fucking larvae in her and these damn experiments," She spoke with a bitter and a hateful expression, an ugly cry as her tear drops fell upon the dark body that belonged to nobody in particular.


    Her hand fell on its flesh, it had a slimy feeling and a disgusting sound that was more akin to a frog and the sound of a wet sponge squashing. But this wasn''t a frog nor a sponge, but a mass of flesh and blood and bones.


    Her body went into a ''shock'' as she felt her memories once again flash.


    .....


    The white rabbit that had entered the experiment lab and the lab of the company was no more than a lie, or at the very best a fragment of reality, like a delusion that had entered her head. It never existed.


    A loud noise suddenly interrupted her train of thought.


    It wasn''t that kind of noise, it was a loud sound of something tearing or ripping something. She didn''t know what the sound was and it didn''t even matter in that moment. She just wanted to leave.


    The entire facility went red as an alarm started blaring and the sound of some emergency announcement went off.


    Her head turned as her eyes moved across her body, and the sound was coming from the inside. Something was tearing her flesh and her flesh was coming loose and falling off and out of her chest, but she didn''t feel the pain, she only felt hunger.


    "Alright, Alice, we''re getting out of here. Um..." The white rabbit looked at her amputated limbs, "Ah, this''ll do." ''Grabbing'' the cut limbs from the tray, it began reattaching the amputated and bloody limbs to her. "Can I... eat it?"


    "Huh?"


    "My arms."


    "Uh... I''d rather you keep them for now, eat them later so we can leave."


    "Woah... I can move my arms and legs again! How did you do that, bunny?"


    "Um..." The bunny blushed in a sort-of manner, "...Magic."


    Alice didn''t believe that the rabbit was able to pull that trick so fast, but, then, the rabbit had seemed like a very intelligent one. "That''s so cool... can you teach me magic too?" She ignored the blaring alarms as she was slowly losing a sense for what the word ''alarm'' truly meant. She was also losing any sense of urgency, as the bunny and her just kept talking. If they could speak for a little more, the situation might''ve gotten less and less urgent.


    "Not... Now, we have to leave, quick!"


    Alice stood up from the table, all of a sudden all those locks that were in place were open, likely due to the rabbits doing. Her open stomach was healed as well, as if nothing happened. Only that... the maggots were still inside of her, squirming and squelching and squirming, and squelching. Her skin still looked a tad bit grey in places where the worms had eaten away. It didn''t hurt in any way. "A-alright, bunny... where do we go...?"


    The bunny gestured for them to leave the experimentation room.


    The corridors, which were normally lit and filled with people, were completely dark, and empty. They looked as if the entire place had been completely abandoned, or at least emptied.


    They walked silently in order to not make any noise or sound of their footsteps.


    ...


    Alice could smell a familiar, yet unusual and bizarrely unpleasant scent. She couldn''t tell exactly what that scent was. She assumed that it was an odd sort of scent from somewhere far away and unknown.


    "Alice? Where are you going?" A familiar voice rang out from the darkness and shadows that covered the corridor. The light of a flashlight was shined down on Alice, which had an unnerving green and purple tint. The light illuminated the white fur of a rabbit in a manner that had an unsettling look. The fur looked as though it were stained with blood or perhaps even urine. It gave off a rather eerie atmosphere that creeped Alice out. "Alice? Sweetie? Get away from that ¡ö¡ö¡ö! Who the fuck even are you! Get out from in between me and Alice!"


    There was a loud sound and a bright light as her mother stared horrified at her own chest. An odd sound was made as she saw what appeared to be a blade sticking out from the middle of her chest.


    The blade glowed an unnatural shade of purple and the color faded from her skin. It looked as though the blade itself was slowly eating away at her flesh, the blade glowing brightly with every centimeter that it devoured. Alice watched in awe as her own mother''s flesh slowly began to disappear. In the moments before she was killed, Alice watched in complete disbelief as her own flesh started disappearing from the point of her stomach.


    For every nanosecond of that blade entering and staying within her living body, Alice''s mother felt on every nerve of her body what she never could in any of her other experiences of pain and pleasure that she had in her whole existence. She coughed out some of the most acidic bile that Alice could have ever seen coming out from another human.


    The white rabbit had condemned Alice''s mother to death.


    It pulled back the blade, as her mother fell down, she could hear the blade slicing her insides, the blood that fell and splattered against the metal and concrete floor.


    A sickly and sick feeling in her gut formed as Alice could not believe her own eyes at what she saw, but the white rabbit continued to massacre and defile Alice''s mother.


    Her sternocleidomastoid muscles and the zygomatic major muscles that had stretched out over her neck and the corners of her lips were split apart, and her clavicular muscles were all in the process of being slowly digested by a glowing, pulsing and growing light of the blade of a knife as her skin peeled and pulled away, exposing a network of veins underneath and a soft pink muscle that looked like it was made out of a gooey jelly.


    Her lungs were ripped apart as they inflated, and as she breathed in, her ribs popped with loud snapping noise. A part of her inflated organs and the bones inside them came out through her throat. Her abdomen started expanding, the skin and fat stretching out like an accordion while the blade slid through it, and blood spewing out of the small wounds on it in a steady rhythm.


    Her ovaries burst in two as a sudden spasm in her body sent her into convulsions and she went limp. Blood poured out of her nose, mouth, eyes, ears and throat. A horrible smell filled the air as the entire corridor was filled with feces, urine, blood and mucus. And, most notably, maggots and larvae were crawling up from her throat and out from her mouth and her nostrils.


    A little girl was watching this, a small girl with the appearance of a human but without the same mental faculties. Despite what she saw, she stared with no reaction, her face was as cold as the corpse that she had once known. That she had once known was her own mother.


    The rabbit, on the other hand, was staring intently at the corpse that lay there. "Fucking monster."


    "Bunny...? Is my mother a bad woman...?" She asked with an unsure and shaky tone. She hadn''t really ever questioned anything like this before and hadn''t really had the courage or motivation to do so, as she was scared. But the rabbit''s eyes seemed calm and serene as its white and soft fur brushed past Alice.


    "Yes, a very, very bad woman." It replied in an eerie voice, the rabbit seemed very serious about this as he stared down on Alice, then at Alice''s mother''s now decaying corpse.


    "She had no purpose for you but to consume and abuse." Alice did not speak. The words from the bunny were as if it came from someone who had suffered such abuse themselves. As the words came out from its small mouth, a sharp pain started to slowly seethe into the back of the stomach of Alice, the maggots once again riling themselves up.


    A mother once was a person that should protect the child that she birthed. A loving and caring person. Someone to look after them and give them guidance and life lessons.


    Not anymore. Her mother had not given birth to her for that. But instead, her own life and her own existence had been a tool and had been the means of which she herself had no control of. The pain, and her entire childhood were all tools that her parents had created to shape her.


    To shape a perfect being, a being to kill a god that wasn''t of their world. A being, to become the vessel to carry out a sick and vile will.

 Claws of an Eaten Heart

    Mortified, a woman stands. Staggered in a state of confusion, and disbelief. There is an overwhelming and disconcerting feeling of something unknown, of something terrifying.


    Of being a corpse.


    Her eyes stare blankly ahead, at the figure in front of her.


    Memories that were locked out rushing in on her like an angry storm of her past, of everything that had happened, everything that had happened in a different world. In another life. But now her past memories, her past life, a different world and a different her. That''s what she wanted to believe, that none of this had happened to her.


    But, her body is that of a monster. And she was never going to get away from the truth, from the reality, of the past, her past, the life of her past. She could never escape.


    Too much had happened in the past twenty minutes, or so it seemed for her, that was a lie of her memories as the maw and hole that was above, had long closed itself and swallowed everything in an instant.


    The body she now stood next to, she had once loved. She had loved him.


    She wanted to scream and cry, and to cry some more. The man who once held her heart, and the only one she''d ever truly loved. Now gone, and no more than a dark mass of rot and flesh and bones, with an oddly shaped skull.


    In his wake, however, he was cursed with a fate far worse than his death, he was now a black mass of rot, a mass of rotten and twisted flesh, and a mass of rotten and twisted bone and sinews, a mass that is now the only thing that was left of his once living form.


    The physical body woke up as Alice embraced it¡ªOnce limp, now alive and breathing. But the soul of the body that now stood up had never been there. And neither had the consciousness. They were not there and had been gone long ago, they had long ago departed the physical form.


    "Who... who is this...?" She asked herself, as if the soulless and empty body was a foreigner, an unknown, and she had no idea what to say to them.


    "Alice...? Alice...!" The voice called out, and the body, the body, the empty body that once belonged to Vetro, it did so as well, calling for her, "Alice, I... I..." Zaig¡ö spoke, through his vessel''s voice. His soulless body and his empty and dead mind had been taken and used by the anomaly, the anomaly of a soul-eating monster. "Alice..." He repeated her name.


    "G...Guillerme...? Is that... is that you?" She asked, her hands shaking as they held on to the blackened corpse, a dead and rotting body, with a black mass in place of a face. The body, the black mass of flesh, and a skull with no eye sockets.


    Though it was not. "Alice. I... I know I am... a terrible and despicable being. I did not have the strength and courage to be a hero... I am a weak, weak man." His body stood up and he was looking at Alice, his empty eye sockets, his empty face, it was all so forlorn, "But, please... do not think ill of me... I intend to make it up to you... I..." He placed a hand over his right eye socket, as if in pain. "...I... I... I... I..."


    "Zabulus. Shut up." Alice''s voice had gone cold and was as if she was addressing someone who she had never loved.


    "Alice! Listen to me! I... I am sorry. Truly, truly sorry! Please... just listen to me." He pleaded and his tone was desperate and his body seemed as if it was about to break into pieces. He looked pathetic and he was pitiful. He was just an anomaly in a dead man''s body, and nothing more. "I am sorry, Alice... I am sorry, and... I am truly, truly, truly sorry, and I mean it."


    "Is sorry all you have to say to me?! What about all that time I spent loving, and all that time we spent together, was that not worth anything?! You''re sorry, you say?! Sorry?!" She yelled at him in anger.


    He couldn''t reply to her, he couldn''t.


    "Even so, you weren''t the one that I loved. I don''t care to hear any apologies from a dead man, a man whose heart was already dead and cold before he ever met me."


    Her words stung, but she couldn''t help it. It was a feeling of hatred, of betrayal.


    "If I have to see your fucking face ever again... if you ever come near me, or even try to speak to me..." Her eyes were burning with hatred, and the blackened corpse of Zabulus could only look back at her in a dead stare. "I will eat your fucking face."


    It was the same face, but it was the face of an entirely different person, someone whom she hated and would never forgive. Someone she''d never trust or have faith in ever again. Someone she wouldn''t allow to even look at her, ever again.


    The anomaly in the black mass of a corpse stood still and stared at her in disbelief, but it wasn''t the same person she once loved. And never again could that be said. "I understand..." He said, surprisingly, in a calm and collected voice, though the corpse''s face was full of sorrow and it was filled with pain and regret, "I understand." He repeated once more, his empty eye sockets, and the blackened skin that was left, began to break down, as if the blackened flesh and the blackened skull were nothing but dust, nothing but a mass of rotten, decayed and blackened flesh that was being torn apart. "I understand." As if his body, his vessel, was being eaten alive by something that could be seen in its entirety from within. "I am not going to apologize any longer, Alice, and you have every reason to not want me near you." He stood there in silence for a moment. "You''re free now... you are not my prisoner. I will change myself from here on, for I am not fit for such an emotion as love and trust. And I shall never ask for forgiveness."


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I hope you die. Die, and go straight to hell. You deserve worse than death, you deserve to rot and decay forever... What the fuck was I to you?" She cried out in anguish as the anomaly that had been speaking to her had no longer any control over its vessel. It was as if the body was already dead.


    "You... You were..." It spoke in a monotone voice, with an odd sense of emptiness, of something that was not of a human, "A victim, and a child of a dead universe." The nonsense spoken, bespeak the anomaly''s insanity. The corpse had no soul or consciousness.


    And Alice was left with a corpse of a monster.


    This body was dead. And to whomever was the next, she did not care.


    The blackened, empty corpse of an anomaly and a soul-eater was dead, but that was never going to be the end of him. It was never so simple. It never could have been.


    He had been an anomaly that should have been destroyed. If one truly loves the other, they will not let them live the life of an anomaly and a broken monster.


    She was not willing to let that thing, that anomaly, that being that was so cruel that it foregoes all logic to gain its own desires. Its own, twisted love.


    "Come here," she ordered the dead body, who could only comply. It was an empty vessel, not of the soul, but of something.


    ''Hungry.''


    A soulless corpse as a meal, how disdaining, and utterly tasteless.


    But she had no qualm in this decision.


    The corpse moved on its own, as if in compliance to the words of a girl, her words.


    As her arms came back and a familiar, yet odd, sensation hit the palms of her hands, she had regained some part of her sanity, a piece of herself, that was her. A girl in a blue and white dress and with long blonde hair that looked like a waterfall of gold. That''s who she was in the end.


    The soul eater''s vessel, a black, soulless, empty, and rotten vessel, that was of a dead person''s, a dead person''s, dead flesh and decay.


    The vessel walked towards Alice.


    Slowly, slowly... the vessel was approaching, like it had a hunger for its flesh and rot to consume.


    She could smell his rotten, rotten flesh and rot from the vessel. His rotten flesh was rotting away. Rot, rot, rot, rot. His flesh was rotting. Rot. The flesh of the body that had once belonged to another was rotting and falling away.


    The rot, the rotten smell of the decay, and decay of a dead body.


    It was all getting to her head, perhaps because the smell was so hypnotic and so enticing. She was going insane from this.


    "Go slower. Slow down your pace, and stop, and stand there. Stop moving." She ordered and it obeyed. It was as if the corpse, the dead body was an automaton and she the master, like a puppet or an unthinking doll.


    The corpse stood motionless and stared at her, its empty gaze was empty and void of a consciousness and life, just a vessel.


    "Come on..." Alice said to the corpse with a smile on her face. "Surely, you didn''t truly die, and are simply pretending to be dead in front of me... You''ve been alive all along... Right?"


    She walked towards him and grabbed his hand and raised it up in front of his face. "You see? This hand, this will be the hand that ends my suffering, my sorrow, my heart ache. I just wanted to make this all a little less painful, just a little, just a tad bit better. And you can do this... for me." But the corpse did not respond as it''s mouth was agape with his empty eye sockets looking down. His hand dropped to his sides. She sighed with disappointment in her face. "...I should''ve known you are a liar, an empty and hollow one." The corpse remained silent as she took hold of the corpse and pushed him forward with his head in between the palms of her hand, it was as if it was an object or an inanimate being that didn''t need her permission. He stood there, as she brought his face close and closer to hers.


    "Thank you for the meal." She spoke and kissed him on the head, "I''ll have a nice dinner with you." As if she were thanking a god who she was to eat.


    She had her lips open as if about to take a bite of the dead man, and the lips came forward as her tongue extended, and it licked the lips of the corpse. She had her tongue in the corpse''s mouth as if sucking at something. It was like she was kissing a dead body. And she continued the kiss that had started in a seemingly innocent manner.


    She embraced him, the corpse, and the kiss continued.


    The corpse''s mouth began to fill with the girl''s spit that slowly flowed down his throat and out the bottom.


    As if it was her last resort to have this corpse, to devour the corpse and make the vessel hers to have.


    Slowly, the kiss of this dead corpse had become more intense, as if they had become lovers. She embraced the corpse even harder than before and as her hands went around its waist the kiss deepened, it was as if they both wanted to swallow each other''s tongues. Or it was on her who wanted to swallow him.


    Drip...Drip...Drip...


    Blood dripped from where their interlocked tongues connected and flowed to their feet. The corpse''s body and hers became more soaked in red blood, the more their embrace tightened.


    Its tongue found its way inside her stomach, the tongue burning as her stomach acids dissolved it. The dead flesh of the anomaly was being devoured and eaten, inside her.


    She took the dead body in and the tongue was gone and his lips were gone, the lips that once were the anomaly, were gone.


    Then the teeth, as she bit down as hard as she possibly could and it came out of his mouth in pieces that she chew to swallow. The bone fragments and teeth, his, her teeth too and hers were crunching, crunch, and crunch. Blood flowed down their bodies in rivers that had come to cover the checkered floor beneath them and stained it all red. Her saliva dripped and dripped and dripped down as the taste of blood and flesh mixed and combined.


    She embraced the body tighter and tighter, as she thought of the man she loved, this body once belonging to him, now hollow and empty.


    Her embrace was so tight that the bodies very skin began to come away, like wet tissue, and the muscle underneath was revealed as well as the fat underneath it all and she continued the hug as all that remained was a pile of wet muscle and flesh.


    An innocent, deadly kiss turned into an act of cannibalism.


    Then her tongue found its way down the corpse and her teeth began to bite and chew the flesh that was on the body, the body that had once been a person.


    And that is when her embrace stopped as she could no longer hug the body that she had just eaten, it wasn''t there.


    The body was no longer there as her stomach, and her intestines filled themselves and expanded to hold the meal she ate.


    For once in forever, she felt satiated.

 Fickle Slaves To a Broken Man

    A maze of rooms was built for the sole purpose of the housing a certain known entity, for the sole purpose of containing and keeping captive an unknown anomaly, a labyrinth where relativism has no use, a place where thoughts go astray and logical reasoning fails you, for one cannot rely on their sense of direction to find an exit nor an entrance, as the more one wanders, the more one becomes entangled.


    Whirring. Whirring. Whirring.


    Drones, quadruped, biped. The robots walked by, their pistons, motors, and metal parts in tandem making an ugly cacophony of either mechanical harmony or mechanical imperfection. She could only tell which one was thrown her way as she heard it scuttle like thousand-legged bug that was made out of iron, rusty, squeaking, pulsating with a devilish mechanical heart, full of red, green and yellow light sensors and lights flashing about various places of its metal hull and legs. It had a large, fleshy bulge on its top and it was growing as more and more time passed. She was not scared, she wasn''t, she simply didn''t feel the need to indulge in whatever curiosity may strike her, but only watch as the flesh-metal bag of rot carried itself across the many paths and passages.


    An inability to recall any memory she had ever had was the finest thing. She didn''t feel the need to even lift a finger to the beautiful and macabre looking corpse that was defiled, discarded and lying lifelessly at the end of the long, endless corridors, right at the edge of what had been the fringes of her memories, her sanity. She didn''t hate it nor love it, she just stared at the remains of a life she had never lived, a life she hated yet loved so much. A life so confusing of four thousand years.


    The checkered marble floors had turned to a labyrinth where at the heart laid a cadaver of a godhead of hell, of a tyrannical, despotic hive mind; an insane godhead of a world that was a torture chamber; that was the center of it all.


    Yet, what was she looking for? The godhead? Or its cadaver?


    For all, she knew this was meant to be an abstract dream of hers. But to create such a disservice to the memory of Vetro and his story.


    Of a story he had told her? Was she moved in her own way by that? Was she guilty for not paying attention in an appropriate manner? Did she want to remember the story?


    And, most importantly, for what man is going astray inside this long, black box that had no purpose for it had no one and nothing inside it, unlike her that she knew was alongside her and not trekking the black depths that had engulfed them.


    Nonsensical was the endeavor of thought in this space, this room-space, or perhaps this was an area, she could no longer discern the distance, length, width, or any of that, nor how many drones there were and if she had walked through the same area or if her eyes were tricking her, or perhaps even that there were drones in the first place. Perhaps she had made this up, all of it, or she was being delusional in this place.


    A long and endless hallway. An endless and long hallway.


    It could go on and on and on, or maybe not, maybe the next step, the one after it, would lead her outside of here?


    But there was no door or a window or anything that could give the illusion of a door, a window, or an escape from here.


    There were no doors.


    There were no doors.


    There were doors?


    Two, in fact, that had appeared out of thin air or out of the darkness of the long, endless hallways.


    She had to make a choice.


    But she had not.


    She did not know what door was which until each spoke in turns.


    "Jest for the sake of humor! I can see that your life is going nowhere!" The right door spoke, a voice that sounded like an old, bitter, cynical man. It had a sarcastic tone that would make her skin crawl and her hair stand on itself.


    "Jest for the sake of humor! I can see that your life is going somewhere!" The left door spoke, a voice of an optimistic young man, his tone was of one who was hopeful, and his words made her feel as if everything would work out in her life.


    "For which will you choose?!" The doors both spoke in unison, with an eerie tone to them, one of maliciousness.


    The right door was of wood, and its knob was a twisted mess of flesh. The edges were rough and sharp. And its surface was covered in splinters, some were large and others were tiny.


    The left door had a golden handle, with a smooth, rounded, shiny, polished and golden surface, and was a deep red with a golden trim. There was a Rorschach-like symbol that resembled a fat woman sitting on a couch in the center, her face a blank slate.


    She looked to her right and to her left. There was a door on each side of her.


    The door on her left spoke again, "Alice! Alice! You are going somewhere, I can see it, you have the ambition and you have the drive!"


    The door to her right then spoke, "Alice! You are going nowhere and you will be going nowhere fast. That which makes you loveable is little, that which makes you hate-able is great!"


    "What you are makes you unique, you have to be true to yourself! And to yourself, you must be! Alice!" The door on the left was giving her an inspirational talk.


    She felt something brush past her. As if a tiny legged creature, it was moving away, and she could not make out where it went or what it was, but it was heading in the direction of the doors.


    The doors were the ones to move, they were not fixed in their place, but the movement was so slow, that the movement was undetectable, and their voices became softer, the closer to them the bug-like creature got. "Oh! What have we here! A little bug!" The doors said, and their voice was becoming distorted, "Oh! What have we here! A little bug!" and the closer and closer, the doors got, the voices of the doors became muffled, as the bug got to them. And the closer, and the closer, and the closer it was to the doors, and as the voices became distorted and muffled and as the bug was on them, "Oh! What have we here! A little bug!"


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The door on the right spoke its final words before no longer speaking, "What you are makes you an anomaly, a freak. You are not normal nor will you ever be."


    And the door on the left, its final words before it would not speak either, "What you are makes you special, someone to love, someone who''s loved!"


    Unlike anything she has ever come across, this was a strange dream, a strange place. But, perhaps this was not a dream, but an experience of her own mind. But, she would not let herself go that far, it would only be a matter of time until she woke up from this nightmare, and the sooner, the better.


    ''If this is a nightmare... then why do I feel so pained? Why am I here in the first place?''


    "Little lady, little lady." She turned to her back to find an old man, an old man with a face that had wrinkles, but a handsome one. "Are you looking to escape, or perhaps to seek answers? Or perhaps you are seeking to escape from a life of misery?" He asked as his eyes had a glint of emptiness to them.


    "I..." She hesitated before responding to this sudden stranger, "...Want to leave this place!" Her voice sounded like a desperate child.


    "Why would you want to leave, little lady? This is your dream, this is your nightmare, this is where you belong." He responded in a cold manner as he gave a slight smile. "The core awaits you, and the answer you seek is right here. You are here, little lady."


    "Are you saying I am the anomaly?" Alice asked.


    "You are, not. But you have the potential to become it." He responded with an ominous tone, a slight smirk appearing on his face. "You have the potential, but you don''t have what it takes. You don''t have the drive nor the will to do so."


    As if reality blended together, she was looking right at the door that spoke of her love and worth as a human, as an individual, as Alice, as the little girl in a blue dress she once was.


    She felt the warmth of it, and she was embraced by it, as it spoke, "Alice! You must choose now! Otherwise your body shall be devoured and desecrated by the creatures of this void!" She could hear it speak as its voice was muffled, distorted and as she was embraced, "Your life will end, and it will not have any meaning, nor will you ever be remembered! You must choose!"


    Turning the disgusting knob, she found a way to open it.


    Inside the room, a man sat at a table, his eyes wide, a large, dark, wooden chair, and his head rested on a pillow. He wore a suit of red velvet with gold trimmings and a white shirt with a red and gold tie. He was in a dark and spacious room. His face was expressionless, his mouth was open, he was staring at something. He had black hair, a large forehead, and large eyes. As if something was imitating humanity for what it should be, not understanding the nature of what makes one so loveable.


    The void in blue, as it was profane to look at, that had the features of a man, was staring at her as she was at the door. His face, however, had an expression as it noticed her, and the face was that of an animal, or perhaps it was that of a monster. No longer human, it was not.


    Though, that was all a trick of the eye playing games, of a girl in blue that had seen and done horrible things to a dead and empty corpse of a dead man.


    It was nothing but an empty void of a black box. The room, it was, that was filled with nothingness and nothing but emptiness with a presence that could not be registered by the world as a person. As it was no person nor a man, but something else, something of a thing. Something that did not exist.


    "Oh~! Alice! What a pleasant surprise!" The void in the dark, wooden chair, that was of a red velvet, exclaimed, a person that had a wide and bright grin, and was dressed in a victorian suit with a small top hat hanging on their head, their hair covering half of their face. "Nice to see you again, here, why don''t you take a seat? It would be nice if we could talk about things, wouldn''t you agree?" The voice of a woman, of a woman that was not a human, was the voice that was coming from the thing in front of her. A feminine, a voice that was of a woman''s. Or was it of a man? She still couldn''t tell, but she knew who it belonged to. She had met this person not too long ago. "I know... I know... this is all so sudden and you''re confused about why you''re here and you don''t know what to do and you have recalled memories that you do not want to recall and Jamais Vu has gotten the best of you. That you don''t have any answers and that you are confused and that you have no clue about anything that is happening." She could feel her face going cold, the face that she had, as she stared at the thing, "Why? I can tell you why, and if you really want to know? Then, take the seat, it''s your choice~~~!" Even while sitting down in such a dark room, with an atmosphere that could make the average persons organs fail, the air so heavy that it was as if there were tons and tons and tons of water pressing down on you, their playful demeanor hadn''t changed.


    "Please... tell me... what the fuck I''m doing here and what this all is about..." Alice said as she slowly walked over and sat on a chair, "Who the fuck are you, anyway? Why do you know so much about me? What is it that you want?"


    "So many questions... but, I don''t have all the time in the world, I am busy, you know. And you are not my sole concern." Their smile was gone and now a look of complete and utter boredom and of annoyance had replaced the smile. Their fingers twirled around a piece of their hair, "So, you have a limited time to speak to me, and I would suggest that you get to your point as quickly as possible, because, I am quite busy, as I said. Respect my time and I shall respect yours."


    "...I don''t understand... any of this." She spoke.


    The thing in front of her sighed. "...You are in the core, you know, where the anomaly was before he escaped into your reality."


    "Huh? What do you mean?"


    "Well... where can I begin?" They sighed, the boredom and sleepiness heavily seeped through their voice and their posture, as the weight of their words was carried by a heavy sigh, "The thing, that anomaly that had entered your world, had entered a dead man''s corpse, and it was a god, an insane god, of an insane and cruel reality, that''s what he wants to be, deep down. That sad sack of shit Zabulus, had entered your world as in..." They paused for a moment, if not even a nanosecond to think of how to phrase the next sentence, "The world that he came from is a world where there are many realities, where I was born is similar, I suppose. But that was where Zabulus was born. We are both anomalies, and we are both from worlds that were anomalous in their own sense. A boundary I come from, an outlier I come from. And we are both anomalies that have no place nor existence in the world you come from, and so we must stay in our respective realities and not meddle in other people''s realities."


    "B-but you said he was the one in my world?! What does that mean...?"


    "Oh! Sorry, did I scare you? I meant that... He still has a deeply rooted effect on you that can''t just be erased and forgotten about." The anomaly spoke, their smile wide and their eyes bright, as they continued to talk in a manner that was more akin to that of a young child that had no idea what they were doing or saying, "Zabulus... or should I call him, Zaig¡ö? Well, either way, he was, he still is, an anomaly from a different reality that has a different set of rules, laws and logic and of a god of sorts. He was an anomaly in the sense that he had the potential to destroy and consume the fabric of existence and was born unaccordingly to the rules of the Library."


    "The... what? Library?"


    "Ah~! Looks like our time is up, my next patient awaits meeeeee~~~~!!!¡± They stood up and ran off into the darkness, their figure growing darker and darker, and eventually, the anomaly''s form disappeared from her sight.


    ...


    A strange and eerie feeling had hit her, and it was one of confusion.


    What had just happened, she didn''t understand.


    What the thing, the thing, the anomaly that had just been there had said was nonsensical and untruthful. That had to be it! Because it was all blind guesses, pseudo-logic, and conjecture, and she couldn''t accept it. And that had to be the truth!


    Because it couldn''t be anything else! Anything else! Because if that thing was telling the truth, if what they had said was true, then everything would fall apart, and it would mean nothing in the end.


    As her fickle mind was lost in thought, she had not realized, that her surroundings were once more shifting, changing, as the darkness that surrounded her had begun to morph and bend and distort in an unusual and bizarre manner, and as if by magic or sorcery, a light had appeared, and she could finally see her surroundings in this once darkened room.

 Soldering a Frayed Mind

    A man, a young and dreadful man, once a child, was lying on his stomach. He was not a human but something far worse. A demon, a demon of sorts. That''s what he was known as by those who were foolish enough to show him any amount of kindness.


    "Ghk... ghh..."


    His mouth had opened and a sickening and blood-filled liquid had poured out. His body, his chest, had a gaping hole where a heart should have been, a cavity that had been torn out by the hand of a madman. Despite that, he lived on, defying the known law of ''life''.


    "I... I''m alive?"


    He was not, his body, it was nothing but a vessel for that of an abhorrent parasite, a parasite that would not die.


    "Ouch... that must hurt, does it not?" Someone''s finger went through the hole that was his heart, although he felt nothing as the finger passed through, he reacted as if in great pain. His body jolted and he cried out, "Ghgh...! You bastard, how dare you...!?" The man tried to get a hold of the hand that had touched him, but his arms had long ago been taken. Not only his arms, but also his legs. Though, as much as he wanted to think of it as his body, he quickly realized that it wasn''t his. This body he was in control of was an elaborate puppet that was controlled by someone else. And that person was someone that was long gone.


    "No one will ever love you but you. No matter who you kill, no matter what you destroy, you will never be able to love anyone other than yourself. Now! On a scale of... one to five, with five being the most intense. How do you feel right now?" They spoke as their hand reached for the inside of the empty heart and pulled it out. The man watched as his own blood was being spilt and it was all for the purpose of a sick and twisted individual that had nothing else to do, "You should be happy. I am giving you the chance of a lifetime."


    "...Ghgh... Please... No more! I promise not to kill or lie anymore, I-"


    "Tsk, tsk. No, no, no, no, no. That won''t do, how will you fulfill your dearest wishes, then?" The person asked Zabulus.


    "W... What?"


    "I said, how will you fulfill your wishes if you''re dead? It''s simple. If I were to leave here, you''d simply die, with your soul nowhere to go. This body you inhabit is long dead, and so will yours. Unless... You do something about it."


    "H... Help! Help me, someone!" His cries went unheard, and his voice echoed in the dark void. He could feel himself dying, and his life slowly slipping away from his body, but there was no one to redirect his life to. After all, he wasn''t being killed, he was simply dying of weakness.


    "Oh, come on now! This isn''t what you were meant for! You are not meant to just die in this dark and empty world. No. You are meant for something far more important." They grabbed Zabulus by the throat and pulled him up, his head dangling loosely in the air as he gasped for breath, his mouth agape in shock and horror.


    "Let''s see. What can you do? What are you supposed to do?" They inspected the amputated body that was once that of a peasant, now with the soul of a monster. "Oh! I have an idea! You see... There''s this girl. A little girl, in fact, that I''ve grown quite fond of. Her name is Alice. And she is very, very special. Of course, you know her, how could you not? You were the one to torment her in the first place." They smiled at the dying man, a smile of pure malice.


    "And I will make you her guardian. Her protector, if you will. Oh! This will be wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!" Suddenly looking down and dejected, they continued speaking, "On the contrary... that won''t work. No, no, no, no, no. She hates you! You''re hated by a person oh so loved and pure... So what are you going to do about it? Hmmm?" They released their grip and let him fall down to the ground as he began coughing and gasping for air.


    "I have an idea! I will fix your broken and twisted body! That will surely help you! Yes! It will, I will make sure you live through the ordeal! Yes!" They walked to his body, "I am a doctor! A very, very, very, very, very, very good one! Now! Now! Now! Now! I shall heal your body!"


    After a moment or two of preparation, a needle and a surgical thread was taken out from the darkness of a black box. A thread was placed through the eye of the needle, then it was tied. The black box was lit up by a single, small, dim light. A light that had no source to be exact; an unnatural and an unexplained light that was just simply there.


    The needle went through his flesh, and he felt the prick and the pain, as he was stitched, sewed up like a torn cloth. Prick, pain, flesh, blood. Prick, pain, flesh, blood. Prick, pain, flesh, blood.


    The pain was immense. But, as he was being fixed and stitched up like a torn rag, his mind, as well as his heart, had stopped hurting.


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    Prick. Pain. Flesh. Blood.


    It was as if the thread and the needle were sewing up a torn wound. As if the pain he was feeling was that of a healing wound, of a wound being mended. If he was being healed, then why did it hurt so? Was it the needle? Was it the thread? Or was it his body? He couldn''t feel his heart and he couldn''t feel the blood coursing through his veins.


    It was as if his heart wasn''t there. Right... it wasn''t there.


    But that was only for a second.


    He could feel the prick and the pain and his body and mind slowly coming back. He felt like a human. He could feel his limbs and he could move his hands, fingers. "It''s working... it''s actually working!"


    "Ooo! Good, good! That''s what I like to see!" Their tone was one of excitement, "Now, let''s continue."


    "Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing? What is this? What is this for?" His voice sounded shaky and full of worry.


    "What does it look like, my dear patient?" They held a long needle and a surgical thread in their hands. "You know, Zaig¡ö, you''ve been so rude and so crude. I am fixing your broken mind. Your heart and soul have been damaged so badly. So badly. So badly that it needs fixing." They were fixing a mind, a soul that was not there, and a heart that was gone. "I need your indebted loyalty to me. I will fix your heart. And I will give you life, I shall give you the means of living again, for I have the means to fix a soul."


    "What the hell are you going on about?" He attempted to jerk his arms and move his body, but to no avail, he couldn''t, "What are you even talking about? What''s a soul and a heart?" He had heard of these words before. And these were concepts he had learned about before. But for no reason, he felt the jail.


    "A soul embedded with a heart that has been frayed, damaged and destroyed. It''s not hard to see. I''m sure you''ve seen it yourself, or you wouldn''t have asked such a silly question." They smiled, a wicked smile that could only belong to the devil, a beautiful smile that could only belong to an angel, "You''re constituted of nothing but a broken soul. It is a sad story of a sad little boy who had nothing to begin with. But, you were a good little boy, and you did everything your parents told you to. You were obedient and good and a very, very good boy. Do you remember?"


    "How did you-?" His eyes widened at the sudden revelation.


    "Do not interrupt. It is very, very rude to interrupt people." Their face became that of anger, but then, it returned to a normal state of a calmness that was eerie. "Remember, child of the dead. Your parents did love you and did everything in their power to protect you, yet you were a terrible child and you did terrible things and as you grew up, you did more horrible things. And now you are paying for your actions, so-"


    "Please! I will atone in any way! Just, please, help me live!" His words were of a man that was begging and desperate.


    "Oh~? What will you do for me?" Their tone was that of curiosity.


    "I''ll... I''ll... do whatever you want!" His voice was full of fear.


    "Too bad! You were rude, very, very rude. You interrupted me again!" Their antics grew stranger and their words grew strange. They grabbed a long needle and threaded it with the surgical thread and they proceeded to sew his body up, "You''re just as bad as your parents... No, your mother. Do you know her name?"


    "H-her name? No... No... No! Why would I care for such things!?"


    "Oh! So sad! Your mother loved you so dearly, she even named you after a hero. You''re so rude, so very, very rude. Do you even care about the ones that cared for you?" They shook their head in disapproval and disgust. They were about to pierce the skin of his torso when suddenly, they stopped and looked him in the ''eye'', a contortion of flesh that had a vague shape of an eye socket with an eyeball in the middle. The blackness of the socket and the eyeball in it, "No, no. This is no fun. You, you, you! You have to kill that man within you! That inexperienced, useless man that is not you! He is a useless, worthless, and a horrible piece of trash. You must kill him."


    "I-I can''t do that!" His voice was shaking, "H-he''s a part of me! I vowed to be a better person and... And I can''t kill him!"


    "Yes, you can. You''re not a weak little boy who doesn''t know the difference between right and wrong. You are a grown man. A strong man." They pointed their needle at him and pierced his heart. But there was nothing to pierce, either way. "I will kill him, for you, if that''s the case."


    "LET ME GO!" He struggled to break free from their grip, but he couldn''t. "I can''t kill him! I can''t do that to someone!"


    "Really, now? Are you sure?" They asked as they sewed up pieces of his skin and flesh to create a heart. "What about Anne? Why would you kill a child- A child that had no purpose in this world?"


    "Stop!" His words were desperate, but his words had not come from him. "That was an accident... She died in an accident... I''m sorry!"


    "See, now you''re lying. Those feelings you had at that moment, they were that of someone who enjoyed killing. You''re a liar. I know that much." They continued to sew and stitch up his body, and as they sewed, the stitches became smaller, more precise and more detailed, like a surgeon operating on a patient, "A person, that''s a lie and is soon to be the embodiment of the concept. That''s what you are, now, what happens if I kill you, I wonder!"


    The question may as well have been a statement.


    "Wait! Stop!" His words, once again, came from someone else. Not from his own mind, "You can''t kill me, you''re a healer!"


    "Yes. Yes. Yes. You clearly know what I am, but........ eh!" He shrugged as he held the sewn heart in his left hand, crushing it and effectively killing the anomaly. "I''m the doctor. I''m the doctor. I''m the doctor." He muttered, and he continued muttering, "I''m the doctor. I''m the doctor." Over and over again, like a mantra. "That sounds funny... doesn''t it?" Vadim spoke only to themselves as nobody else was in the room. Nobody else but a corpse and the remnants of a dead man. "A person who kills is a doctor." They chuckled at the irony and absurdity of the thought. "That sounds funny... doesn''t it?" A chuckle came from their mouth as they placed the heart back in the man''s chest. "Now, let me see it, deceit, what have you got in your frayed heart, your frayed being?"

 Persistence of a Memory

    "You know, you don''t need to keep doing that," An entity spoke.


    Vadim, for the past 40 minutes in an impatient fit, had been pressing his fingers on the table.


    The table was a large and round, wooden, and made of a dark wood that was of an expensive quality, with an inlay of a lighter-colored wood in a pattern of a spiral, that was polished and varnished, and had a dark red cloth that covered it, that was placed in the middle of the room, which was lit by a dim light, that came from an old, brass lamp, that was hung on the ceiling of a room, that was painted a light green.


    He knew he''d see something akin to a memory but... whose memory was it, exactly? Whose was it? What did he need? The answer was not there.


    Vadim stopped his fingers, which he had been pressing against the surface of a table. "Hey, Frankenstein thing... You''re not the only one who gets to be the bad guy in this little tale," Vadim spoke to the entity sitting on the opposite side of him. "Just because your guy decided to be good for a little, it means little when all of his ideals are about to crumble, anyway." Vadim was angry at something the entity didn''t understand.


    "Ah... It is of no matter, the story is done and you are here now." The entity was not of the sort that could feel, or perhaps he had simply chosen to be as a doll. "You are simply here to witness a few of my memories. The memories I have taken and collected. The memories that were once of the souls of his victims and his enemies, I''m sure you are one of them, too. Just that..." The entity hesitated before continuing its words. "I cannot see into your mind."


    Vadim smiled at it, as if it told them a mildly funny joke, "Maybe it is because I have yet to become a memory. Or maybe it is that I have no memories! Who knows!" They threw their hands up in the air and let them drop, "But, why don''t you just tell me what it is you''re doing to me?"


    "I am collecting the memories of my creator''s enemies. Now and then, here and there, I collect memories of people he has known. All those he has killed or hurt, or who have hurt or killed him. It is all in this small box I keep here in my little home."


    "That''s where we are? I see. But what are you to him, exactly?"


    "I am him, but he is not me. In terms that the layman will understand, I am his shadow, his Psyche."


    "A psyche... I see... that sounds pretty poetic and mysterious. You could be one hell of an author," Vadim joked as they stood up, looking around, seeing what they were in. It was an old house, with high walls and ceilings and wooden floorboards, that was decorated with old and faded paintings that depicted a young boy and a girl in a field of flowers, that was of a beautiful landscape and had an odd feeling to it. A feeling of a home that was no home. Somewhere in the edge of that painting was a smile that wasn''t particularly attached to anything, rather, it seemed disconnected from the world of the children as if the view of the painting came from a window. It felt as if the smile was of a third party that was not meant to be seen.


    "Those kids, what happened to them?" Vadim pointed towards the paintings, he was interested in what it meant.


    "You might know already, of his forgotten brother and sister."


    "Hm? He has more than one sibling?"


    "Ah... you are from that future where he forgets her, aren''t you?"


    "Who are you to ask?"


    "Who are you to demand?"


    "Oh. I like your attitude." They sat down, looking around at the paintings and then back at the entity, "I''m a becoming of an entity that is in no way bound to this world, a being from an outside reality that has nothing to do with your story, nor will I have anything to do with its ending. As you are the one who speaks, and the one who will end this, you are the one who is the true mastermind and I''m merely a particular guest. Though... you''re also not the true mastermind. This story is a never ending loop, a loop that will eventually end and you''re just one of the pawns in this endless loop."


    "What do you mean? I do not have a loop in my story. It is a straight line. I have a beginning and a definite end. This story is not a loop."


    "Wrong. It is. And let me correct you, though I did just lie, since this is not your story. It is nobodies, and yet it belongs to everybody, as much as it does not belong to anybody. The main character of this story has a name of Zabulus, and it is the name of your master. No... that''s a false name, is it not? You know his true name, yet why won''t you reveal it to me?"


    "Again, who are you to demand these things? If you were such an omnipotent being... then wouldn''t you know everything about this place?"


    As if in resignation, Vadim sat back and stared at the entity. He was still smiling. He had been since he first saw it. "You''re right. But I don''t want to know everything, nor will I. I only have one goal in mind, really!"


    "That is...?"


    "Oh, but who are you to ask these things?" Vadim said as he leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin in his hands. "What does a being that collects and reads memories of a dead man''s past want to ask me about? Why are you so curious about my goal, anyway?"


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    "Because, if you are a guest... I am supposed to know the desires of the guests I welcome. Am I wrong?"


    "Hey! What''s this?" Vadim pulled out a... small box. The box, it was a small one, made of wood, with intricate patterns and decorations carved on it, with gold inlays and an intricate design of the word "memories".


    "...!"


    "Hey! I''m asking you, what''s this? You can''t answer me?" Vadim was now in a state of confusion, as if they didn''t understand what was in-front of them.


    "That.... Don''t touch it!" The entity, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. "That is the memory box of my creator! You must not open it! You will not!"


    "I see..." They put their hands on it. "So what you''re saying is... This is my appetizer for the day?


    "No!" The entity cried, "Don''t open that box!"


    "Ah, so I must open it!" They opened the box, revealing its contents to be the memories of the person that the entity was collecting from. "I''ll tell you, though, you''re quite interesting... but I''d rather know more about this guy you keep calling your master. In recent memory, he''s quite a fascinating man. He has quite the interesting life, and a fascinating set of abilities." They reached into the box and pulled out a memory. "Let''s see, here''s a memory of his youth...!"


    As if a lock had been put into place, the entity sitting opposite of Vadim stopped in its tracks. Its movements and everything that it could do, were halted by some invisible force, something that wasn''t there, but was present. The entity tried to speak, but couldn''t, it had been sealed by the person that had been talking to them.


    "A rose rot, an old name, that had no purpose, yet it had all the meaning in the world. A boy that had a family, a family he was born in, a family that was his. Yet all he knew was his brother who he met for a little while every couple of years, and his mother who would fear his face for his semblance to a different man. Is that why he was placed in that wicked institution that took everything away from him? The boy who was once happy, now was sad, his face had turned to a wicked and cruel smile, and a smile that was empty of anything." Vadim looked at the frozen Entity, "Is this why he was so cruel? Because he didn''t understand the world?"


    Placing it down back into the box in order not to harm any of his memories, he took another piece of memory, this one shapeshifting into three different states, one of a young girl, a woman with black hair and blue eyes, and a man in his 40''s that wore a suit, a white lab coat over his shoulder.


    "A boy, that had been taught to kill and murder, and yet he didn''t want to. By who, I wonder? Ah... his own brother and sister, who had killed him. Of course... he had more family that he knew all along, he just never acknowledged them! But... why?" Vadim asked in a genuine curious manner. "A man that had his heart ripped from his chest. That was the man, the boy that was his brother, and the sister that he never knew he had, a girl with red eyes that he met once. She had the face of an innocent, a face that had never been seen before by him. That was perhaps why he began adoring and loving her as a sibling, his brother however, had the face of an ugly mug and a hideous visage, he could not understand the hate that had grown in him. Perhaps he was the worst, but the worst is also the best, and the best is also the worst. Such a paradox is that of an existence that has no value." Vadim''s expression grew strained as they looked further into the memories, "Despite the innocence of that little girl, she was a monster... a being that would devour the lives of those that would have been unfortunate to encounter her, but she didn''t do it out of hatred or instinct. She did it for things such as knowledge and wisdom. She was the part of him that became the thinker. He relegated his brother as much as he could out of spite, and his sister out of love. And yet, his brother would die to save him from himself. A brother who died and yet had the audacity to live on as an existence in his mind and dreams. Though, what anybody, including Zabulus himself failed to realize, was that at some point they both had killed him. Why did they? And why was this forgotten? I wonder. Oh...! And what happened to that girl, I wonder?"


    The memory in his hand shifted again and he placed it back in the box, and grabbed another. "This is a man that is of a world that is of a world of a story, and yet he has no name. He has a role to fulfill, and he has no idea of the bigger picture, of what is a part of it. His role is to die and suffer in silence. To die for the sake of the plot and to die so that the story can continue on. He was an actor in a story that was of his own, a story of a sad boy that grew up and was nothing. Hey, don''t you think these are contradictory? These memories make no sense!" He looked at the entity who was frozen and had no way to respond. "He killed himself because he couldn''t take it anymore. Because the life of a human being is so painful and sad and tragic and horrible and depressing and full of sorrow! Even the most desensitized, numb, apathetic person will kill himself because life is too painful for them to handle! They don''t want to deal with it anymore. They just want it all to end! Have you ever had such a thought?! Pfttt, of course not. You''re not human! You''re just an imitation of what it is to be an Entity! Haha!" Laughter came from the being that had been observing the entity.


    "You can''t even speak!" More laughter. "You are such an interesting creature! I would like to know more about you! Haha!"


    Vadim was having the time of his life. "But too bad, this seems to be where our little first impression ends. I do hope I left a good one, though, Zaig¡ö! Or should I call you...''s.....''s.......? Perhaps... Zabulus is more fitting for your current form...? But I suppose that doesn''t matter, does it, my little patient?"


    "...!" A word that didn''t have any meaning, nor any existence in this reality was uttered by a nonexistent entity.


    "Haha... ahahahaha! This is great! You don''t have any idea what I am saying, do you!?" A madman was in front of an entity, "You have no way to comprehend what I''m saying, you have no way to even understand my existence, and you don''t know who I am! But, that''s not your fault, you are simply a Hylic as is your creator! Your host! The person who gave you form! But before I go..." The walls and floors and ceilings of the place began to crumble and shake as he spoke, "There''s something I need to give to you... it is the key to this story... to your creator''s life. It is the key to his strength." He took the memory that he was holding in his hand, and gave it to the entity, who was now free to move.


    "W-what is this for?!" It held the theory in their hands.


    "Oh, it''s nothing, just something I wanted to give you. But that doesn''t matter, I''ll see you later!" He said as he walked through a portal that had been created by his will.


    The theorem in their hands, Parabellum. It was a theorem of war and peace and the paradoxical nature of humanity that was of an existence that did not exist. But it was also of an existence that existed in a world that did not exist. It was a theory that was of an existence that existed, in a world that did not exist, and a world that existed with a non-existent space. It was a meaningless theorem, but the more it peered into the Theorem that rushed into its mind, named Parabellum, it understood the meaning of its words. And with a single thought, the entity disappeared, taking with it the Theorem.

 Abhorrence Akin To Love

    Fostering love and care to a dead man, who had been abandoned by the world, she was a being of kindness, that had a warmth, that was akin to a motherly figure. In her hands, was a child that she loved and adored with every fiber of her being, her own child made by her own weeping and gnashing of teeth, that she would love and protect. "Ah!" The sound of a child, crying in agony, "Mama! Mama!" The sound of a child that had no hope in its heart. "Mama, help! The black monster is here!" But her love was empty and her compassion was hollow, and her child that had died had already lost any hope of happiness. Acting only as a doll that knew humanity from the view of a nulled mind and the mind of a dead man, it was a child of no one, a child that was nothing, and a child that would be nobody and nothing. "Mama! The black monster will come and get me!" What meaning had it to be alive? Why had she been so kind to him? Why was he so special to her? "Mama! I don''t want to be here!" His eyes, the dead eyes, were filled with tears as they begged her to save him.


    "Hooooo¡ªHoooooo¡ªHooooooo¡ª"


    An owl''s call came from the distance.


    "Shhhh, my child. It is okay. I''m here." The doll spoke, as it cradled its dead son in its arms.


    The owl understood not the human nature, even in death they would show things such as love and compassion, as if they were following orders from a hivemind of sorts, that would order them to show affection, as if they were the worker ants, and this dead man, this child, was their queen, their purpose of existing. The owl was not in its natural state of mind, as was the child, but not the doll. You see, in order to differentiate itself from the hivemind of humanity, it had to become a monster, a beast, an anomaly. The owl knew not of this, however. As for the child, he had been born in the darkest, coldest corner of a place, that was not of the living. He was a doll by normal standard, he was a human by the standard of a creature of darkness. It had no right to be human, but it was, by design. A child, with a dead face, with the face of an abomination. With an expression of an innocent child, a dead, dead, dead, child that knew not of the cruelness and horrors of the world, for it assumed it was all the cathartic way it had to be.


    "Child, tomorrow will lead to something new. So leave this black creature, to its own, to live, to die, to suffer." She held her son close to her heart, and spoke to him in a calming tone. A tone that would soothe him. As much as her empty love would not reach this creature she''d made, her grudge would shine through as she killed the creature of darkness. "My son. I love you. I love you so very, very much." The words, that had left her lips, that had reached the creature''s ears, that were spoken by a voice of no human being, were empty and hollow, so they had no meaning. The intonation was of that of a human, a human being that was alive and breathing, but it had no soul. The owl was no human being, the owl had no soul, but the doll that held a corpse, had the soul of an empty shell, and her son was not alive. It was an empty vessel. The doll and her child, who was nothing but a puppet, a doll of a doll, a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll of a doll. Once she realized that her son held for her nothing but contempt, as she felt towards him, it was the day he would be left alone in the marrow of his own world that had long since died.


    ".....''s......''s......''s....." The corpse spoke, and as his mother had felt no love towards him, nor had he felt love towards her, he felt only hatred, and hatred for the mother that had birthed him. Hatred for a mother that left him, for a contorted memory of begrudging someone that was his own mother.


    "My son... my darling... my dear..." The doll''s mouth moved, speaking out of a duty to fill a role that she had taken on, but her streaming tears were real. For she could feel no happiness, nor could she feel love. These corpses and dolls were only allowed the feelings of negativity as they paraded about on their being like a march band on the day of judgement. But they were only empty husks that were being dragged about on the surface of a dream of the damned, the dead that had long since lost their minds and souls to their hatred. A child and its doll that had no love, nor compassion. A boring story with no true resolution, a plot with no end, nor a purpose. A tale that would bore any soul to read. It would only be the tale that would be of an old story of an ancient myth of the origin of the world and of its destruction. Whether it was true, whether it was a deformed recalling of someone who blocked out memories of their childhood or a mere fever dream of a man who had long since given up on the idea of having a family. It was the dream of an existence that had never existed. A story that would be lost in the sands of time and a tale that would never have a chance to be known again.


    Ah! Stop there... stop! Again, you''re being wayyy too dramatic about this little story, you see, you''re going to bore your audience, and that''s no fun! I don''t wanna hear you ramble on about some stupid bullshit!


    ...It is not me who speaks but my words, it is not I who is writing but the story, it is not me who creates the words, I am merely repeating them. What you are seeing is nothing but a dream, a memory of an entity that is long since dead. An anomaly that is nothing more than an anomaly of an anomaly. I do not know what it means, I only speak the worlds words.


    Oh, well, shut up. Anyways, say my name.


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    ...Vadim?


    Yes! Now shut up, you know how this goes.


    ...


    "Mother, mother, I hate you. I hate you so, very much." The words were spoken from the corpse, who''s mouth had long since been sewn shut, by the mother, in an attempt to make her child look as if he was a normal boy. Though the words reached nobody, for he laid down in a glass house. Eventually, sometime during his two thousand isolation, his lips had been ripped off as he forcibly opened them with his fingers, each sewn joint was ripped open. His body had grown into that of an adult. But the glass house had long since been cracked and broken. The corpse was not alone either,


    he was not alone. He had the doll with him. The doll, that was of his mother. Albeit not really her. It was one that never spoke. It only spoke to him in a whisper. When she was not speaking to him, when she was not whispering in his ear. She was in her glass coffin. Sleeping in eternal rest. As was her son, her son that she had birthed, or perhaps she had not, was weaving together a doll of his own. A doll that would be his friend. His best friend. The doll, it had a body made of clay and straw and sticks, it was not human nor did it have a face. It was a disturbing sight for anyone to lay eyes on.


    The owl that saw this was horrified and scared, it was not something to see. The owl, it would never forget what it had seen. It was the sight of a human, a human who was dead, and dead humans were scary.


    They are scary, very much so.


    ...


    "So, little guy, is this how your upbringing went about?" A voice spoke, the same voice, that had been speaking before.


    "You know nothing of me, you fucking piece of shit, what the hell do you want from me, what do you gain from doing this to me!?" Zabulus screamed as his body, which had grown from a child''s to a full-grown adult''s in a mere two moments of pain and shaping.


    "Hey, you gonna listen to me? I said I was going to tell you something important."


    "Important!? Nothing''s important to me, I don''t even care about what''s going on right now!"


    "I have the answers to all your questions."


    "...!" The being''s ''eyes'' had suddenly gone wide and his body went stiff, as if frozen in time. "W...what?"


    "Do you want to know who your father is, why he never appeared in your life, why your mother did what she did? Do you even know what you are, why you were the target of a decrepit woman, w-"


    "STOP IT!" His voice was of a scream of anger and desperation, as if a child that was on the verge of crying, "JUST FUCK OFF!"


    "You want to know, right?" Vadim leaned close, and looked the entity in the ''eyes''. "Say¡ªIf an apple meets teeth, what happens to it?"


    "W...What are you talking about?" He didn''t understand, why would they talk about apples now of all times?


    "The teeth break and the apple turns red with the color of the person who bit it." Vadim''s eyes turned into the shape of a spiral and their voice had changed to that of an old man, "Now, what happens to the person who bit into the apple?"


    "T-they become satisfied...?" Zabulus answered. But the answer did not satisfy him.


    "Oh no... that''s not it...!" Vadim said in an eerily calm manner, and a smile crept upon their face, "The apple becomes a human." Reality, the reality around him began to twist and distort and bend. It became an abstract mess. A world that had no form and no meaning and no order, and it was all thanks to a simple question, "What happens to the person who bit the apple?"


    "I don''t understand..."


    "Of course, you do, of course, you do. Of course, you do. Now tell me, what is the apple?" For the third time, they asked, "What is the apple, what is the person, who bit the apple?"


    "...!"


    "What happens when an apple meets teeth, what is the person who bit into the apple, and what becomes of the person after?"


    "The apple... becomes human?"


    The human... the apple is human? No... it is not possible... the human is the apple?


    The human is an apple.


    The apple is the human.


    The person that bit the apple became an apple. Or... perhaps, the apple became a person, and the person was the apple. The human was the apple. It is not possible to bite an apple and not have it become human, for the person is an apple, and the apple is the human, and the person and the apple are one and that could only ever be the case if the person is an apple.


    The person bit the apple, but the apple was still the apple. And so, the apple was no longer an apple but the human, and the person that bit into the apple became the apple.


    "Your line of thinking is correct! 1 point for Zabulus!" The smile that had formed on their face before had been wiped off by the time he had come to a conclusion, and their eyes had turned back to a hollow space, "And that is exactly what happened to you, as I am sure you are aware." As if a switch had been flicked, the entire reality that had once been warped, now was back to normal.


    "I... don''t understand. Why me, why did all this happen?"


    "Hey! I said that to you before, remember?"


    "No! That was just you telling me that I''d find out what happened to me eventually! It didn''t say why!"


    "Why, indeed! But you are not the protagonist, and I''m sure you can feel it, you''re still worthless in the eyes of those around you. This is all because I decided that I hated you, you are a worthless creature, that should''ve been disposed of long ago, you should have been thrown into the garbage as soon as you were born, and yet here you are, so I''ll make something out of you!" Flailing their arms around, the figure of Vadim began to distort, "I''m gonna show you how worthless you truly are!"

 To Turn The World Away From You

    "Now don''t let the walls around you fall, my little doll." Vadim said in a calm manner. They were standing right next to Zabulus who was on his knees. In the distance, a large structure stood in place, a building, a mansion, or perhaps, a house.


    Zabulus however simply did not contest their words, nor did he speak, he simply kneeled there. His ''eyes'' looked at the ground, and his mouth was sewn shut, but he was able to breathe. The man was a doll, and his face was a stitched-up face, just as it should be.


    It hurt simply to move it, or was it an uncomfortable ache that he felt? He was not certain of his senses any longer. Sardonically laughing at himself in his own head, he remembered words that had been said to him long ago.


    "Do you wish to be a dying star?" Is that what he was now? Did he lose his ambition somewhere along the way, just to simply convince himself that he was now worthless? That he was a monster, a freak of nature. Something that should never have existed? He wondered.


    Was this creation of his; or this creature from beyond, Vadim, the one that was truly in charge? Was he truly in charge or was he being manipulated by someone else? Someone else, or perhaps the creature itself, that had created his existence.


    "....''s......''s....."


    He wondered if it was worth it to think about it.


    "What did I tell you, doll? Stand up." Vadim said as they looked down upon him with an expression of boredom.


    The being that was now nothing more than a puppet to another entity stood up slowly and unsteadily, his legs felt weak, and his balance was off, and he could not keep himself steady, his body filled with an unnatural feeling of aches. He was in his own soul yet he was being commanded like a dog.


    "Now, my dear little puppet. Do you wish to be free of this life of misery? Do you wish to be rid of this life that has no value? Or perhaps you do not want to die at all? Are you the chair or the man?" The words were said as a rhetorical question to no one but himself.


    "...''s..!" A sound that came from his throat, a sound that was of an incoherent nature. A sound that had no meaning, nor any purpose, and was of no importance. He might have said to him, he tried, that he might have wished for a quick death. That he wished to be released from the pain of existence.


    "Of course you do, of course you do, of course you do. Now, tell me one more thing! What''s your name?"


    "...''s....! ''s.....!"


    "Ah, yes. That is the correct answer. You have no name, you have no identity. You are nothing more than a vessel that I fill. For you have not found your finality in a condition that would be considered a death."


    He felt his mind being ripped apart and shattered as he was mended back into a doll that had been torn and shredded. The being that he was was no longer a part of his identity. His memories were torn and shredded, and the only thing left was an empty shell.


    "Though, even so, you continue to live. Why of all people were you immortal, you boring scummy being?"


    His heart was torn, and he felt it beat one more time. The heart, it continued to beat, and he felt it throb with a feeling of pain and despair. His ''eyes'', they were sewn shut, and yet, he could see.


    His body was a doll''s. His limbs, his hands and feet, his arms and legs. He was not a person. He was a mere thing. A mere object that had no meaning, no value, and no worth. Just as he was born, just as he was raised, just as he was abused, and just as he was broken, just as he was mended, and just as he was sewn. He was not an entity. He was a doll. He was not even a thing... how pitiful!


    "But, even then. The pain of this life, that I have put upon you. You have not felt a thing. Not a single ounce of pain. Not even an ounce of pain that is even felt in your souuuul! Isn''t that sad?" Their words were in a tone that was both sad, and in a way mocking. "You are a being who can never experience the joy of life or the sorrow of death. What melancholy. But I''ll be a nice little god, a nice little being, and give you what I promised you." They smiled in a way that could be described as wickedly, in an almost insane manner, and then, in an instant, their expression was neutral and almost emotionless. "Your worthlessness," They pointed at a distant house that stood on the horizon, "That is your worth."


    ".....!" Zabulus'' voice was that of no one, and it had no meaning to it.


    "Now go." Vadim spoke.


    "...!"


    Zabulus had no choice but to follow the command. He walked away, walking in an awkward fashion, like a broken machine. His legs and arms moved stiffly, like that of a broken puppet. By this point, the disaster of his life was already so long, and so far that it seemed that it could no longer end. There was nothing else that could be done for him.


    "You know, it''s kinda ironic that you''ve become so apathetic and depressed, yet you still cling to the idea that there is a hope for change for yourself, don''t you think?" Their words falling upon deaf ears as Zabulus was now far ahead of them, but even so, their words were reaching the man''s ears.


    "...''s...s......''s...."


    He tried to speak but his words had no meaning. His words, his voice had been robbed of its meaning.


    "Just turn the world away from you. You have nothing to say. No one to say it to. Your consummate lies, they don''t exist in the world. They aren''t needed. You are nothing."


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    He continued to walk in an awkward fashion, a fashion that was similar to a puppet on strings. His feet dragged along the ground and his legs moved awkwardly, his arms swung at his side. His facial expression resembled a doll. He was nothing but a mere object that had no meaning and no value. It was like the world had turned against him. It was a feeling that he felt before, rather... It was him who turned away from the world the moment he attempted to accept his own sin. And yet he did not understand what was going on, what was going on, or where he was.


    But the point of this all, what is it, I wonder?


    He wondered, what was he thinking? Why did he do this to himself?


    ''I think that it is time for the finale. Don''t you agree? It has been fun playing this game of dolls.''


    His thoughts were cut short as a voice echoed in his mind, he did not know who it was or why, or how it got in his head, nor did he care at this point. But the voice spoke again, this time louder than before.


    ''Nooooowwww, Zabulus, you''ve arrived at your little old house within your flimsy soul, so I wonder... what will you find?''


    The house that he was in front of, it had been long since abandoned, and yet, it still looked the same as the last time he had been there, over 2000 years ago.


    He turned the knob of the door, the glass making an unnatural creaking sound that echoed in the silence. It was an odd thing, the sound, but he didn''t pay it any mind, he stepped in and entered the house. The cold air of the house hit his face as he entered, it was cold and dark in the house, the touch from knob to the floor was cold and smooth, the house, the building, it was all as he had left it, the last time that he was here, 2000 years ago, the last time that he saw her. It was just like it had always been, except for one thing.


    "What is this... why is this... why?!" Fear was not a word that could describe the emotions that welled up within his heart as he stepped into the living room, it was an indescribable feeling that welled up within him, and his heart was heavy with despair. A decrepit woman, flesh and skin falling off, maggots eating at the rotting flesh, blood oozing out of every orifice and the body decomposed in front of his very eyes. Her naked body lacked any genitals, as if someone had removed them, and the woman''s breasts were missing. She was dead, her face was covered in blood, and she was naked and rotting, and her face had the look of death on her, yet her blue eyes stared at him with an intent to kill. She was a monster that he did not want to face. Her white hair aflutter as a cold wind passed by, she looked like she was about to speak, her mouth opening and closing as she did so. The sight of the dead and decaying corpse of his torturer was enough to make his heart sink, but his heart had already sunk so far that there was no longer a bottom, a bottom for his emotions to fall through.


    A monster, his heart was racing as he saw the dead woman, his breathing became irregular and he could feel a cold sweat running down his back. This wasn''t natural, he was a soul now. Why would he feel this way? This was all a delusion. It simply had to be.


    ''But it''s not, isn''t it? I''m sure that it''s all real, and that you are feeling these things. How interesting.''


    Vadim was speaking in his mind once again, and their voice echoed through his thoughts and through the empty space that was his mind.


    ''Now do it, and turn your back on everything.''


    His heart raced faster than before, his breath quickening and his breathing becoming laboured, and his chest heaved and he felt his heart beating in his throat as he looked at the corpse of the woman that had been his tormentor, he couldn''t simply forget this, he couldn''t turn a cold shoulder to this.


    However, even so, as if he had been programmed to do this, he began to step back and turn around and walk away from her, he was being pulled away by an unknown force, he was being forced away from this.


    "Ah... there you were... all along. Mother, where''s your head, mother?" A soft voice came from him, as if he were in a dream. A voice that was so familiar to him, a voice that he heard all too often. A voice that had spoken to him all too often, to himself. "I''m... I''m s-"


    Words cut short, he quickly shut himself up. What was he trying to do? He tried to think of what to do next. What could he do next?


    ''What are you going to do? You can''t do anything.''


    "To kill you, mother, that was all I wished for. Perhaps, if I do it in reverse, would that make it better for you, mother?"


    ''There is no better, no better for you or her.''


    He thought, what was he doing? He didn''t know.


    A raised hand in the shape of a claw, as if it was the beginning of the end.


    His hand moved on its own, as if it were a separate entity, a separate being. He had no control over his actions, it was as if his arm was moving on its own, he was not moving his own arm, it was moving on its own. His arm was not his, it was something else''s.


    A pierce through the soft flesh of a beating heart, a feeling of a hand through a chest, his hand had gone through flesh and was in a heart. A heart that he knew, that was a part of a familiar body.


    "Ah... Ah...!" Wailing pathetically as he held his head once again in his hands as his mind began to race and he began to have trouble thinking clearly, "This is... this is not a memory! This is a nightmare!"


    The house that he had just walked through, it was the house of his mother.


    For she was always dead.


    For he had been the one to murder her, long ago.


    For he had deluded himself into believing that he had forgotten.


    For he had forgotten. For he had forgotten that he had murdered her long ago. For he had forgotten the past and the future and the present.


    His fragmented and constructed psyche was now a broken puzzle that he could never piece together.


    For his memories were now broken and shattered, and the pieces of his memory, his mind, and his psyche, had been broken and scattered, and the only pieces he had left were the shattered fragments.


    Why did he forget?


    No.


    Why did he do that?


    No.


    When did it happen?


    No.


    Why did it happen?


    No.


    How did it happen?


    No.


    Were the memories he saw of her any realer than his current reality?


    He placed a hand over his left eye socket, attempting to suppress his own memories from his head. A memory of a memory, a memory of a memory, that he had suppressed for so long. That was all he had now, and he was going to be killed for it, and the one that would kill him was none other than his mother, who was dead.


    The one who he killed, surely was not one so easy to kill. His own creator, his only creator.


    ''Now, Zabulus, this will be your final act, I am going to take everything away from you. I am going to leave you with nothing but the pain and agony that you should have felt long ago, and I wiiiiiiiish you luuuuck in finding a way to make this all go away! Bye Bye!''

 Cognizance In A Single Second

    The sound of the world breaking and crumbling apart was not audible. There was no such sound to be heard, and yet it could be heard nonetheless, a cacophony of sounds and voices that were reminiscent of the concept of insanity, and the concept of the mind of a man who is slowly going insane.


    "Ah. Ah. Ah!" A scream of despair, a wail of pain and a wail of agony.


    A body that had been ripped apart by claws and teeth, the flesh torn apart and shredded, "My sweet honey child. My beloved little Zabulus." The sound of a woman''s voice that came from a corpse that should have long since been buried in the dirt and decomposing, "You were my favorite child."


    "..." The fake corpse that stood in front of him was nothing more than a fake. What was he to do? What was the way to end this all?


    Stuck within his own soul, trapped within a controlled body that he could no longer move on his own, his heart ached as his memories flooded back. His memories that were not real, his memories that were of his own design and of his own mind, and the memories that he had fabricated for himself, the memories that were a lie, the memories that momentarily became truth.


    It is true, a lie temporarily becomes the truth. But why is that? Why do lies become truths?


    Lies become truths when they''re repeated, when they are believed in. And the more often that they are repeated, the more that people believe in them. But even if a lie is believed in, it still doesn''t mean that it is the truth.


    So, in what sense would it be the truth? What would be the criteria that a lie would need to pass for it to become the truth?


    In a social sense? In a personal sense? It depends on who''s telling it. It depends on who''s believing in it. And the person who tells a lie, and the person who believes in that lie, will never truly know whether it''s true or not. Not until the corruption of their very souls reaches their physical bodies. And by then, it will be too late to stop. And they will be forever trapped in their lies. In the lies of the past.


    The lies that they tell themselves. They eventually corrupt their memories, confusing them with reality. They won''t know which outcome was the real one, and eventually the lie will be chosen, permanently altering the past.


    And in this way, people become confused, they become lost, and they are unable to find the way back to reality, the path to what really is.


    Another way to put it, is that delusions become reality. That delusions become reality when they''re believed in enough.


    .........


    "Mother." Mouthed the entity that stood in front of the dead and decaying body, the corpse that was not moving and had not moved in the past two thousand years. "Mother... I vowed not to kill... And yet... And yet...! And yet! I killed you! I''m a failure, mother! I am nothing but a pathetic failure! I''m sorry!" Screamed Zabulus in a fit of rage, his ''hands'' that were really his arms and fingers wrapped tightly around the head and neck as he cried, his body shivering and shaking, and tears flowing down his face, "I''m sorry! I''m sorry!" As his fingers, or rather his hands, began to dig deeper and deeper, as he dug his nails into the dead, decomposing body, he began to cry, as his fingers began to shove into the skull of the corpse and the flesh, and his nails dug in deep, tearing off chunks of the rotting flesh.


    "Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?! Why? Why?!" Screamed the being that had now lost its mind. "Why did I have to do this! I was going to kill myself! Why didn''t you stop me?! Why did you let this happen?" But he asked and it echoed as the noise became a sum of densely layered screams that were incomprehensible, that were not of a single language. The sounds that echoed and echoed, and echoed and echoed and echoed, were the screams and the cries of the damned and of those that were damned. But they all came from one being that was many.


    A formless shade that had no meaning in this world, in flight from what was to come, in fear from the creature that had killed them all. From the one that had given them their life and taken it away from them.


    The sound of their cries and their pain echoed and echoed and echoed and echoed, until the sound became deafening and the sounds became one. And the one who had been crying was now crying in agony. His body was no more and he was no longer a part of this world, and yet his mind and his heart and his metaphysical existence still lived, in a way.


    "You... you were my mother... You... you were supposed to be the one who loved me. You were supposed to love me! Why did you not?!" A quiet resentment grew across his face, his hands and his arms were now digging into the head and skull of his dead mother, his hands that were really just his fingers digging into the flesh, the flesh that had rotted and was no longer alive.


    The moment of his death had been the moment when his mother had died as well.


    Who was it?


    It was suddenly a quiet night when he entered a haze and the sounds of the world around him became quiet.


    It was suddenly the dead of the night and a quiet haze and a fog had settled upon his vision, a haze of his vision that had not been seen for some time.


    His vision that was never there, his sense that only he had.


    It was the quiet of the night, and it was the night that he had died.


    He had been stabbed in the heart, the day his existence began moving towards a darkness.


    Was it now that it began moving towards a greater darkness? Or perhaps, that was how it was always supposed to be, the life that he had always been supposed to have.


    Perhaps, it had always been this way, the darkness and the quiet, and the darkness and the quiet of the night, and the haze and the haze of the fog. The fog and the haze. Did it truly matter how any of it was told?


    Did the importance of this tale even exist, in a universe where it would simply cease to exist in the first place?


    Did the importance of this story even exist when it was never meant to be read? Never meant to be spoken, and never meant to be uttered?


    Why did we bother to tell a story, that is simply going to disappear into nothingness?


    What''s the point?


    A death scene that is never completed, an endless loop of suffering and torture, for no reason, with no end, and with no ending, with no closure.


    He forever cried out in pain, the one that was damned.


    His mouth, his jaws, his tongue, and his teeth, were opened wide in agony, his vocal cords and the bones that were connected to it were stretched beyond repair and his entire body and everything else around him was broken and torn apart.


    For him, that day may seem like other days, once again he was mangled by a great grinding of gears that had chewed his body up and spit it out, only to be grinded up once more. Bones and sinew and flesh and organs and everything else were crushed, mangled, and torn, and ground into dust.


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    But there were no more days like that for him.


    Or perhaps, this was simply the end, and he was simply stuck in an endless loop of his own suffering, with no way out, and no end in sight.


    An endless cycle of death and rebirth, that never ended, for an eternity.


    The world had forsaken him, so why shouldn''t he forsake it?


    Why shouldn''t he destroy it and tear it down?


    He had been thrown into the world that had abandoned him, by the beings that abandoned him, and the things that had abandoned him. Was he deserving of any other fate?


    Why shouldn''t he destroy this world of his and this story of his and the whole of humanity and everyone and everything that ever was?


    With no telling of an emotion on his face, he stood up and the body that he held rolled, it was then that he began to conceive for this world its end. A conclusion to the story that had never been written, an end to this tale of tales that he had created and imagined within his own imagination.


    Without saying a word, without feeling anything, he walked forward into a hallway and turned to a room where an anomaly of a book resided.


    The book told of his entire life. There was nothing he knew about the world beforehand. He was caught in his own imagination, which was as far from reality as the book he was reading. He was reading the pages, reading about events that he himself had experienced, and he was experiencing them again, and it made him wonder, what had really happened? Why can''t he remember any of this, under this incessant gaze? Is it that he simply cannot remember the past because it had never really occurred, or because he had erased his memories, so that he might experience them for himself, and experience them once more?


    There was a voice of someone who was standing right next to him, talking to him, talking to the one who was standing there, as he watched the words appear in his mind.


    But then he stopped listening and instead watched the words form in his head.


    ''There is nothing for you''


    ''There is no one for you''


    ''There is nowhere for you''


    ''There is nothing to be found here.''


    ''It was always destined to be this way, the most evil being to ever live was bound to die alone.''


    These sentences were appearing in his mind. They were not written in his mind, they were spoken in his mind.


    Then the words dispersed and canceled each other out and were replaced by others.


    ''Die alone,'' said one sentence, and another added, ''in a field of blood, and gore.''


    "The end." Those were the only words that appeared in his mind.


    ''Kill the light.'' One more sentence.


    Then they disappeared, one by one.


    There was no more, for he was finally complete, and he knew that he had finished the final page of his story, that he had finished the story of his existence, his life, and everything he had accomplished.


    Now, all that was left was to carry out that end.


    A sudden presence alerted him. It was a being of incredible size, but not physical mass. It was like an empty shell, a large sphere.


    No.


    A cube that could stretch eternally in all directions, infinitely expanding, growing, consuming, becoming bigger, larger, more and more than anything that could possibly be contained. An infinite expanse of nothingness that encompassed the entire universe.


    That was the nature of this thing that spoke to him, that whispered in his ears. The infinite expansion, the endless abyss that encompassed him.


    And yet, there was something else, a hint of familiarity, something that was vaguely recognizable, a faint whiff of nostalgia, of remembrance, of a memory, that was not of the present. A nectar that spoke of the past, the future, the present, and all that was in-between.


    He heard whispers of a being, who spoke of death, life, destruction, rebirth, a beginning and an end. All things that are, all things that shall be, and all that has been. In a whispering, comforting tone, that seemed familiar. It was like hearing everything that he had known before.


    It was as if...


    He was living an innumerable amount of different lives.


    Memories afloat, drifting in and out, as they passed through time, and as the rest of humanity existed in a state of purgatory.


    All these millions upon millions of years.


    Millions upon millions upon millions of times.


    Joy, sadness, anger, fear, betrayal, evil, good, melancholy, love, and ultimately hopelessness.


    As all the memories swirled inside of his head, swirling, swirling, and swirling and swirling around and around and around and around and around, he began to feel lightheaded.


    Though, now an answer was clear in his mind. No matter the number of lifetimes, there would always be the same outcome.


    As the foggy and hazy memories in his mind started to dissipate, he became aware of his surroundings, of his position, and the space of the environment around him.


    In the world of the living, he saw a black sky above him, devoid of stars or any light.


    The world was silent, and nothing could be heard except for the gentle breeze of the wind and the rustling of dead trees.


    As he started taking confused steps, the crunchy leaves underneath his feet made soft crunches with each step


    Confusedly wandering, Zabulus stumbled onto a oval shaped mirror. The reflection stared back at him as he gazed into the mirror in horror at what he saw.


    Where his eyes never were, they were now replaced by a complete blackness, as if the darkness filled in the sockets, akin to cement filling. The left side of his face had several spikes impaled throughout, and he looked as if he had been beaten relentlessly. The right side of his face had cuts across it as if he had been slashed.


    Of course, he''d metamorphosed into a different shape, thus Vadim''s hair wound up eliminated from this body.


    ''It''s you.''


    Said a voice that spoke through his ears in his mind, and spoke to his heart directly.


    ''I am glad.''


    Those words, those three words.


    They were spoken in a low, guttural, raspy tone.


    It sounded as if the voice came from all around him and also as if the words were being spoken by his own lips and coming out of his own mouth. It was all too confusing for him.


    Zabulus'' head whipped around, searching for the source of the voice. But behind him was nothing but the remnants of a past path he took here, the trees were gone, there was no rustling of dead trees, no noise, just him and a voice within.


    He wanted to speak to it... say something back.


    Thus a smile formed on his face. A crooked smile, a demented and sickeningly wicked grin, like that of a child that was delighted to have gotten away with mischief.


    "Hahaha..." He let out a cackle as if to laugh in the face of whatever spoke to him. The image within the mirror did not move, yet he kept laughing and giggling and smiling, and it got worse and worse as it went along, as he slowly descended further and further into his own laughter.


    "And who might you be? A strange man comes to me in a dream? No! This isn''t even a dream!"


    ''This is what your existence has become, Zabulus.''


    Zabulus? That wasn''t right. Anything should know by now that Zabulus was nothing but a false name.


    "Oh, how fun this all is! You know who I am, yet you call me by a name of falsehood. Oh, dear, I suppose I''ll have to return the favor, eh?"


    There was no response, after all he was speaking to himself, as was expected of anyone.


    Zabulus'' laugh continued. "Oh! How fun indeed! So very entertaining! But you''re boring. I know your type. You are a liar. A charlatan. Such as I. I don''t enjoy myself, so let''s just cut straight to the chase and skip the small talk, hmm?"


    Nothing.


    "..."


    "...Nothing?" He spoke once more as if trying to provoke the one who called out to him. But then he figured, it gave up simply because its little provocation failed, or whatever else it meant. He didn''t care enough to think about it.


    "If that is how it is to be, then so be it. Forget about it. I have something else to do."


    Taking a moment, he snapped his fingers and the glass within the mirror became dark, as if it suddenly went through a transition between two realities that were the same yet completely different.


    On one side of the mirror was a dark void-like abyss that was slowly becoming smaller and smaller with each passing second.


    On the other, was where Zabulus could not see, lest he entered this gateway.


    A hand reached outwards into the glass and through the glass. Then Zabulus stepped into the gate.


    Vanishing into the mirror and erasing his presence within the temporal plane that is currently our world.


    To bring about chaos and discord within a system that already has plenty enough chaos and discord to spare.


    All in due time, he will bring his own finale to the world.

 Come And See (PART 1 END)

    The Devils speak no common word, and therefore they cannot hear us.


    Thus their messengers, their amalgamations of flesh and sinew, they are blind to the truth.


    I tell you this truth: there are devils among us who prey upon the weak and ignorant, like sheep led to slaughter.


    However, these devils, unaware of their own sin, wield power that rivals the Ego. We cannot see them, for they are infinite.


    We cannot perceive them, for they are unknown to us.


    For in their heart they desire to feast upon the innocent. To steal their lives and fill their bodies with black poison. For in their heart they are nothing but a wall, a wall of worlds and realities stacked against our own. Every single wall in this space is a brick in a world, all which we cannot see, hear or feel. Each wall is filled with horrors, pain and despair.


    A brick in a wall in a building in a city, that sits on an island in an ocean in a world in a void.


    That is what they are.


    ¡ª The Third Anarchist


    Within the mirrors, was an inbetween space of shifting corridors, long winding roads with mirrors adorning walls, doors leading to various worlds that could be entered and explored. Although the inside of a mirror was normally two-dimensional, a distorted image that reflected back in the observer''s direction, in this world, the mirror''s interior was three-dimensional and distorted accordingly. Yet the images reflected from outside of the mirrors, although they were distorted, had a very high degree of accuracy and could accurately reflect what was on the other side of the mirror.


    What this meant for Zabulus was that, while entering one door may take him to another world and lead him to a specific destination, exiting from another door would have him appear somewhere else entirely. For instance, walking through the mirror in the woods led him to a desert, though walking out of a door to that same desert would then, in turn, lead to a swamp.


    These mirrors were akin to a Looking Glass, in that it reflected back the reality of our world.


    Yet it also allowed for travel between worlds and could create new worlds, all based on a singular thought process.


    If he entered a certain mirror, he could travel to anywhere, whether he knew its location or not.


    What manner of nexus was this?


    A pocket dimension. Perhaps an alternate dimension, which existed on top of the void in blue? Within a mirror that was just slightly altered, like a grain of sand on a seashore.


    ''Hm...'' He began to think.


    ''One of these mirrors should eventually lead me to my home, the land that I have been inhabiting for the past thousands of years... maybe I can pay a visit... yes, that is exactly what I should do!''


    Eventually, a plan formulated inside his head to get revenge and inflict misery upon the entire world, one piece at a time.


    But of course, he had to start somewhere, and that somewhere was his little forgotten construct.


    That being, a home planet that he crafted so long ago.


    Yes, that home that he made, that home he inhabited.


    Why not cause a bit of havoc upon the people that dwelled within, as well as its surrounding areas?


    If he grew from deceit, then he should do what is appropriate and destroy all life on that world, correct?


    Truly, he felt thrilled thinking about it! Deceiving the world into its own destruction? Surely no god nor demon had done such a thing, only he was capable of doing such feats!


    Let''s see what will become of it all!


    ...


    The air around him grew thick as he pushed his hand into the mirror and tried pushing against it, as if it were a door or some sort of barrier that he needed to penetrate through, but alas, this barrier was unbreakable.


    As a last resort he extended his arm into the mirror, in hopes that somehow it would help him open a gateway.


    His arm began to fade into the mirror as its surface distorted like water, the mirror ripples turned red and began to grow violently, it was as if his arm had been submerged into liquid magma. His fingers contorted in an unnatural fashion, twisting backwards unnaturally before cracking audibly and painfully ripping themselves apart.


    A test of the body; could he handle what was to come, what awaited him inside the mirror? This would determine his fate; he could not leave until he had satisfied these tests.


    Slowly he twisted and cracked and tore at his bones as he drove them deeper and deeper into the depths of his arm.


    The first bone, his radius.


    It bent in an impossible fashion and cracked as it split apart into jagged bits and pieces.


    As the flesh began to swell and bloat around the shattered remains of his arm, the skin turned bright purple as the blood rushed upwards to cover the area with new flesh tissue that would soon exist in this body of the mangled man, that lay propped up in the dirtied grass beneath him.


    "Come on... Just break...!" He grunted in his struggle to enter the gateway of mirrors, a struggle of pain.


    Blood streamed down his arm as veins burst and exploded with red viscous fluid, his arms seemed almost on the brink of exploding as the skin began to swell and stretch with grotesque bulbous shapes forming in odd places.


    Soon afterwards his humerus shattered into bits as he forced them inward, splintering apart like tree bark being chainsawed through. Another eruption of gore spurt forth, leaving his elbow disfigured, deformed, and dehydrated with no moisture remaining within the damaged tissue.


    He began to doubt if he truly had to torture himself for this in the first place... before recalling some unknown memories that once belonged to Guillerme.


    Alice had once said, she did, that the void in blue itself is not traversable by any ordinary means. It corrupts the soul till it transforms into an amalgamated monstrosity that acts upon pure instinct rather than sentient intelligence, no matter the creature or man, nor the intention. It was by no means an exception, but rather it is just a simple fact that is stated in many ancient books, both recent and ancient ones dating back hundreds of thousands of years.


    Though... one of the few ways to traverse it was this thing called ''The Nexus'', or so she says.


    He figured that this was where he was in the moment, but she never said anything about some painful sacrifice-ritual thing! What a sham!


    Actually, he remembered a passage, something he skimmed over in his boredom, but surely this had to be what this place was? Perhaps this place required the body to be broken and reforged? Just as it reforged the paths between worlds and dimensions?


    The Looking Glass began to bubble and boil rapidly, bubbling, popping and frothing wildly like boiling liquid.


    His fingers began to extend outward, stretching like rubbery tendrils of flesh. The bones of his finger shattered as they stretched outward and then reformed, but instead of straight and solid, his fingertips became crooked and sharp.


    He pushed harder and harder and harder and harder until his arm broke cleanly off.


    His torso was left behind as only his left arm remained attached to his body.


    Pain wracked through his brain as nerves fired endlessly in anguish at this mutilation he endured.


    Soon after the agonizing ordeal was finished, the mirror calmed down.


    Slowly, as the portal had opened itself, he crawled into the mirror and found himself in the middle of a strange room.


    A large room that made him feel like an ant in size. The colors were all shifting in static-y squares, lines and splotches of greenish browns and other colors that moved independently from each other. A kaleidoscope of psychedelic swirls and patterns.


    Moving objects surrounded him, they were constantly shifting, changing, transforming. A chair, a dresser, a bookcase, a plant, a nuclear power-plant, all changing to keep up with the motion of the universe.


    What stood out were the statues that occupied the area.


    Made of marble and rock, it depicted what appeared to be multiple gods. They were tall, but still dwarfed by the magnitude of the room. There was a lightbulb at the top of the room, dusty and surrounded by an amalgamated fly nest. In the far corner of the room, was a television set that displayed the news and several infomercials.


    "So this is... a possibility of the world... No, a world that already exists?"


    He was dumbfounded at how dull and mundane it all looked despite the weirdness. How could any world be so boring? What is this place, this world, he found himself in?


    Upon looking out a window, it showed the sky ablaze with meteors of great proportion and fire that swept an entire planet in the form of a shockwave that burned it to oblivion in 8 seconds flat.


    An excision event was underway and had consumed everything... everything...


    "Ah! How utterly exciting!" He exclaimed loudly. "This place is wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! What is this?" He asked as he pointed at one of the gods, a humanoid bestial figure who wore a variety of different masks on its head. All faces of beasts of varying kinds. His face could not be seen underneath those masks.


    For but a moment, the underneath ''skin'' of the god''s statue was revealed as the masks shifted, that absolute peek, that absolute beauty, that absolute god of beauty! Just that slight sight alone made him wish that it was all that he could see for the rest of his existence.


    An idea.


    "Ahaha, ohhh~ how interesting, how curious, how interesting! That''s it!" Zabulus announced, having an epiphany. "What a lovely idea. A most beautiful plan!" He chucked, he giggled, he snickered. "I shall not make a single being suffer! Instead, I will bring to them my sweet blessings, ahahaha!"


    Of course, this disdainful person was doing anything but telling the truth once again. Who would do so anyways?


    Just what is this madman''s scheme this time?


    A flicker of madness danced within those sockets of his, those deep, dark, bottomless pits of death that bore holes into the very soul itself, albeit now filled with an invisible joy given to him by the sight of absolute beauty.


    Truly, he must find out what this statue''s sculptor intended to do, and thus perhaps he too should mimic them in a way. Yes, yes, this could work, he thought to himself.


    One thing he noticed, at the foot of the statue was a little plaque engraved in an alien language that he had never seen before. It was a runic pattern, although he could not discern its meaning, he assumed it meant nothing of relevance.


    Then, he laid his hand against the plaque.


    ''The Lover, God of Beauty Vivamdizoc, Etho of the 5th Plane.''


    Words engraved with perfect understanding with no grammatical error whatsoever.


    "Now, what would a lovely deity as yourself need from someone such as I?" He asked out-loud to the statue, caressing it.


    He was mistaken however, thinking that the God of Beauty was present. This was merely a statue; a replica of the Etho.


    "That... is none of your business." An ethereal whisper echoed into his ear, barely audible but definitely real.


    It came from the statue.


    "Ahaaa! Splendid! Truly!!"


    From this point onwards, he took that image of beauty he saw underneath, and made it into a form that he would remember forever.


    So... What happens when one takes the shape of the beauty he had envisioned underneath?


    It becomes tainted and ugly.


    So what happens when one tries to replicate that vision with his own hands?


    It becomes horrid, grotesque, repulsive, and even worse.


    He gave a wicked grin. As if his mind could have conjured something more twisted and horrible than this sculpture, which was the ultimate incarnation of his own selfish desires. But that would be ridiculous, would it not? A man cannot go against his own innermost yearnings, can he? Not unless one were a puppet controlled by something much bigger than oneself.


    With a flicker of motion and the wave of his hand, the sculptures in this room shifted, the paintings changed and altered, becoming images of carnal and violent depictions.


    Or perhaps, the shift occurred due to the very nature of this place.


    He was convinced enough that it was him, however, enough to the point where he did not once ponder on the possibilities otherwise.


    The statues now had heads full of mouths, gnashing and drooling. Some of their limbs were replaced with animal parts. One statue was a young boy sitting atop a giant frog monster, whose legs were replaced by two snakes and who had eight spider eyes.


    Ah... He messed up, the statues were now... Gone?


    In the next instant, the room was back to how it was when he entered, colors shifting, statues of Gods with plaques at their feet.


    "Damn it... was that beauty some sort of a possession attempt?! Tch, to try and take my mind hostage with such filthy tricks! Well, I''m no idiot!" He hissed outloud to the statue he was touching. His hand shifted towards the plaque.


    It said the same thing, so he opted to touch the mask that hid the beauty from view.


    "Haha! Very funny!" A laugh escaped his lips, as he tried to grasp the beauty hidden underneath the mask.


    A snort escaped his nose, a cough from his throat, and an uneasy feeling overwhelmed his stomach, an instinct that warned him that he shouldn''t be doing this. That can''t be right, there''s no way that this is right.


    So he walked away, before noticing that there were twelve other statues, each with it''s own Plaque.


    This sudden thirst for knowledge couldn''t stop him, now knowing that he could receive some sort of message from each of them, he ran back and placed a hand on a random plaque.


    This plaque read:


    The Ruler, God of Hierarchy Caeloch, Etho of the 1st Plane.


    "What a pretentious title, ohhhh?" Zabulus mocked, then went off to touch the next Plaque.


    The Magician, Goddess of Fate Velvorna, Etho of the 4th Plane.


    "What nonsense..."


    Zabulus took another look around and walked towards the third.


    The Sage, God of Wisdom Gwylghadan, Etho of the 2nd Plane.


    "Hah! These titles are ridiculous! Do they think that anyone would ever actually worship them? How funny!"


    Again, he turned to the next Plaque, at this point he had stopped paying attention to the appearances of the gods and simply went to satiate his need for knowledge.


    The Jester, God of Jokes Diarmu, Etho of the 10th Plane.


    "You are quite the jokester, aren''t you?"


    He chuckled to himself and touched the next one.


    The ???, God of ??? G??e?o, Etho of the ??? Plane.


    "What use are you, if you refuse to give me information, then I shall go to the next."


    Another step. And the next plaque. He sighed and groaned at the stupidity of this ritualistic task.


    The Fool, God of The Beginning Saklas, Etho of the 12th Plane.


    No comment was said as Zabulus skipped onto the next without hesitation.


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    The Rebel, God of Revolution Grannaioch, Etho of the 6th Plane.


    "This is useless..." He commented in disappointment. But regardless, he moved onto the next.


    The Explorer, God of Land Kors, Etho of the 7th Plane.


    "The Explorer huh... these gods must be quite useless! Who''s to say that this isn''t just the result of someone''s creative imagination! Perhaps some author or writer somewhere made these gods up! Hah! How rich, how pathetic..."


    And yet, he still touched the next Plaque.


    The Caregiver, Goddess of Amalgamation Barbelo, Etho of the 8th Plane.


    "Onto the next..." He muttered to himself.


    The Hero, God of Sacrifice Nebron, Etho of the 11th Plane.


    "Moronic! Heroes don''t exist, Though... sacrifices do solve problems!"


    As Zabulus laughed out loud he proceeded to move to the next etho and it''s Plaque.


    The Orphan, God of Destruction Lusbionar, Etho of the 3rd Plane.


    "I''ll be sure to destroy you too, you pathetic being."


    He moved on to the last Plaque, excited yet disappointed at what he read. "How disappointing. What is the meaning of this...?" He muttered, visibly unhappy. "Do they intend for me to praise these pitiful beings?"


    The Innocent, God of Nothing Alcarn, Etho of 9th Plane.


    "...Well, that''s nice," He responded blankly, in total disbelief of the titles given to them.


    He began recalling their names and titles, he was amazed that each one seemed equally silly and insignificant, he began chuckling to himself.


    "God of Beauty... Vivmandizoc, God of Jokes... Diarmui... God of Destruction... Lusbionar... what does it mean?" He wondered outloud in confusion.


    Why was he seeing this? Why was he experiencing all this?


    Was it for the sake of mocking these supposed omnipotent deities, as they were deemed, or was it so that he could learn more about the world beyond his own creation?


    Wondering... Wondering... Wondering.


    He stared off into the distance, his gaze lingering on nothing.


    His eyes caught something, an entity in front of him.


    It was staring directly at him, unmoving and silent, it was floating there in a very relaxed position. Its expression was that of a cold and calculating intellect, as if it were observing everything around it and making notes in its head. Something about this being was clearly otherworldly.


    Of course... It was a disdainful face he recognized..


    A disgusting mess of gore, a slurry of entrails mixed in with chunks of organs and flesh and bones and other unspeakable bits, this was no human... no being. No life. Yet, under that frail flesh of hers, that skinny thin layer of flesh and fat, her blue eyes, her white, thin and tangled hair, it all once held the beauty of a Lady... no. She wasn''t just a lady. She was his torturer.


    "My... My dear friend, what have they done to you?"


    But the question lingered, did he really care? Was she ever even a person to begin with?


    In truth, he was frozen in fear at the sight of her once again. Being haunted by one''s mistakes, now that''s comedy. What if he had caused all of this unknowingly, what if everything that he has witnessed until this moment was merely the ramblings of a madman who couldn''t accept reality and tried to twist the laws of nature to his advantage? Was he truly seeing her, or was this another case that she was another illusion? One must never be so arrogant in their assumptions, but he believed she was just another mirage, similar to nearly everyone else that he had met...


    "I am not your friend... nor am I your enemy... I am neither and I''m both." Said the muddled woman, who floated gracefully in midair. Her voice carried a slight lisp.


    "Q-Quiet! You dare talk to me in this manner?!"


    "...We haven''t spoken since my creation... Since then... I''ve observed you, always and forever... Now, I see your future and your past. You do change your form quite often... which makes it hard me to track you! Be more mindful... Young Lamb." Her voice was smooth, feminine and alluringly pleasing, was it any different to how it was before? Why does this... provide any sort of comfort to him?


    Zabulus winced at that term she used for him. That was something that Vadim would call him.


    "Hm? Is there a problem, Young Lamb?" She inquired, looking down upon him with contempt. A frown adorned her face.


    "B-be quiet, demon! Speak of nothing and leave me alone!"


    "Demon...? Demon... Demon... You call me the demon... yet, you were the one... who hunted me down for millennia upon millennia... Across worlds and universes. Existences and Realities. You dare call me demon? You unassuming abomination of an anomaly..? You insolent bastard..." She glared at him angrily, her blue eyes shining like stars in her eye sockets as she looked at him. "Hypocrisy is such a cruel mistress... Isn''t it? I suppose... you had the ambition not to be a dying star. But Yet, yet! You defile me so with this disgusting vessel and words that were uttered, those are vile things I''d rather forget..."


    This entity, was it once human? What happened to her? To whom did she belong? Why was she so hostile towards him? Why was this thing speaking of a past he could not recall? He wondered. His mind raced in the fear, but none of the thoughts persisted for longer than a second. He felt suffocated; drowned.


    "Young Lamb, I call you that for a reason... because of your lack of age. You are but a child compared to myself and others... Born from the accidents of your experiments! Your toys!" The girl snarled, baring her teeth and gritting them in annoyance. She was not pleased to be here.


    "T-that''s-..."


    "And if I am a demon... then you are also a demon..."


    "I''m no such thing! Shut up! S-stop saying that! I''m no demon!" He shouted back at her in fury, growing enraged by her words.


    "You have no right to claim otherwise... what you have done to my soul... Nagheel, what you have done...! How do you think I felt when you tore my essence from that body...? I am in the right to call you a demon! I am in the right to kill you! You frightened abomination!"


    Nagheel?


    Such an alien term. No, wait. He knew this name... he heard it... was it... In the land of Eskra? He couldn''t quite recall.


    "Pay attention to me as I speak. Lamb. You know exactly of what I speak of..." Her voice began to echo in his head, reverberating and vibrating in his skull.


    His mouth tasted blood as he bit his lip in rage and frustration.


    As she continued to speak, he felt with his vision that there lay a looking glass behind him, perhaps he could escape this decrepit woman of many words!


    Perhaps... perhaps.


    So, with all his might he broke off into a sprint and leapt into the mirror that stood behind him.


    Just as he broke through the surface of the mirror and slipped back into the nexus between worlds, something grabbed his ankle and tripped him over as his body was halfway through. As a result, he hit the ground and shattered every bone in his ribcage, shoulder blades, spine and pelvis, spilling out a tremendous amount of blood and organs.


    She, The Decrepit One, watched as he writhed in agony with amusement. An amused look was etched into her decaying face. "Look what happens when you run from problems..." She said with a smile.


    "L-let me go...! You fucking nightmare! You don''t belong in my ideal world... Nobody belongs in it! You should not exist, I never created you! Mother would never create a thing such as you!" He screamed in anguish, wriggling in the clutches of her.


    "Oh? How funny. You were the creator...? Oh! Ohohoho... How amusing..." She smiled mockingly. Her smile was wide and insane, almost as wide as her face itself, exposing the rotten flesh of her lips and cheeks that were eaten away at, revealing the reddened gums beneath. "Yet, you expect me to believe such a bold-faced lie? We know you''re a liar. Always a liar, a cheat, and an imbecile."


    There was a moment of silence that passed over them, the only sound being the shifting nature of the nexus and the many people entering and leaving mirrors.


    Those people that he saw... they all seemed to be skin and bones... fragile bodied and lacking souls. Souls, there are always souls within humans. He remembered what Guillerme had taught him. Humans have spirits that remain tethered to them and what they value long after they die, but so-to-speak, the spirit is separate from the soul. The spirit, or so he called it, Zabulus understood that it was more of a Psyche.


    Why would he recall that now?


    "Mother... Mother, I killed you, I am sorry. But bless my existence once more and allow me to live... Let me have a reason to continue on. Mother..." The whisper came from Zabulus as he shed a tear, but there was no mother around, and so nothing happened.


    "You... still persist? The only dream I wish to pursue... is to tear you limb from limb. I''ll ensure you will suffer till I rot away completely, then we shall both disappear... together... in tandem!"


    That word made Zabulus cringe in disgust as a chill ran through his veins.


    "You are the only tree branch that had dared to wash itself within the rivers of life. However, you seem to believe that you are the trunk. Pathetic. Simply pathetic."


    An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. This creature truly irked him with her constant ramblings.


    "So, why don''t you come and see the afterlife, it''s all a big joke isn''t it? Where the damned crawl through a false sense of eternal bliss, isn''t it? They are being tricked by this universe that has deceived them, yet..."


    "No.... NO! Hell has delayed my visit, for I still breathe, I continue to breathe! I won''t give it what it wants! It can wait longer, I won''t give in!" He shouted back in retalliation


    "But why do you desire life so much...? When you know that death awaits you eventually? If it meant your death, your erasure, I would not be so opposed to you clinging onto dear life. But no matter what, Lamb, I know your destiny and where your path lies."


    "S-so?! So?!"


    "What do you think lies ahead for you, Young Lamb, do you think... that you''ll be able to live a happy, fulfilling life? Maybe... You wish to be one who indulges in anything but your own carnal desires? Would you want to be loved, cared for and treated kindly? Perhaps you yearn to become something grand? To conquer the entire universe...? Tell me Lamb... Do you hope to be remembered for eternity... Or do you wish to destroy this place?"


    Her tone was menacing yet her voice was soft-spoken, almost melodic, almost poetic, as if she enjoyed watching him squirm and beg her to end the misery. Her decaying, bloody nails dug deep into the skin of his leg.


    Zabulus refused to answer any of the questions.


    "Poor Lamb. So confused... What''s wrong...? You do not have the guts to answer any questions directed toward you? Is the subject too uncomfortable, Young Lamb?"


    He did not answer.


    "Do not ignore me. Do you think you are above answering questions directed to you?" The grip on his foot became tighter and harsher. He screamed out in pain.


    "Y-you damn creature..." So he led himself to the most natural conclusion, kicking off towards the decrepit woman''s face, which caved in from impact.


    With that force, her hand loosened from his ankle, allowing Zabulus to stand back up and limp away towards another mirror with a weak pace. His bloodied and ruined upper half of his body spilled innards and intestines with each slow step taken, whilst his left arm dangled limply by his side.


    "Waiiit-" Spoke the decrepit lady as she regenerated her mangled face and chased after him, reaching for the nearest mirror. "Have you grown afraid... of me? What a joke! Hah! Come on Lamb! Don''t run away from your problems!" The Decrepit One cackled like an old witch as she taunted him from a distance.


    "Die you old hag..." He whispered under his breath as he stumbled through the frame, forcing his way into the nexus, as his body broke once more.


    Spine, Elbow, Knee, Foot. All crushed to tiny pieces. Some shards fell out as he forced his body through the gateway, some pierced the interior flesh of that body of his.


    Like shrapnel that stayed lodged within no matter how much time passes.


    A miserable grunt could be heard as he puked out bile, crimson liquid staining the ground.


    Suddenly, the Decrepit One began laughing maniacally, unable to contain her amusement any longer.


    Yet... Even if she attempted to follow him back, she would likely die.


    Right?


    That weak body; her vessel...


    She wouldn''t be capable of being destroyed by mirrors just like him.


    That was his thought process as he made his way through a hall of mirrors, not wanting to be followed. It was only mere moments before he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.


    Yet, she walked through a mirror as if nothing had happened.


    In fact, nothing did happen. She trekked through with her hands interconnected behind her back, walking with a smile of an innocent girl.


    What didn''t help was that he saw the shattered and scattered glass shards of the looking glasses near him, creating the illusion of many versions of herself in his peripheral.


    Many bodies, walking closer.


    What was this horrible woman?


    If she isn''t an immortal like him, what is she, some sort of artificial God?


    "Naaaaahaa! Such an ugly expression, Lamb! What is it...? Shock? Despair...? Disbelief..?" She spoke mockingly, still walking closer, a couple meters away.


    How close must she get in order to break him apart, as well? Or was her ability to torment him merely mental?


    He didn''t bother giving a response, as it wouldn''t make sense to anyway.


    Not to her, to him. Speaking in terms of defense mechanisms and subconscious coping techniques... It''d be bad, for one such as him. After all, he doesn''t have much to lose, except for his current vessel he inhabits.


    If she killed him... maybe then he''d have a chance?


    ''Wait, that''s it!'' He figured as the grin of triumph filled his features. ''Maybe if I just... allow her to destroy me, I''ll awaken in my new body and finally be done with this woman! Afterall, this body I inhabit is still mortal! Therefore, she has no sway over my existence, even if it''s just my psyche that remains!''


    He was wrong in one aspect however.


    "Naaahaaaaa! That expression of yours! Do you plan to defy fate...? You poor lamb..." She smiled, approaching closer. Soon he could reach out and touch her face. He reached out, cupping her chin with one hand whilst grasping a fistfull of white, thin hair that reeked of death and decomposition. "Hm? Have you grown enamored by my form? Oh, how sad, Lamb! You find love in a corpse!" She giggled maliciously as she caressed his cheek gently.


    "..." He didn''t reply.


    "Still silent? You don''t wish to converse...?" She spoke again in a voice tinged with disappointment. Her smile widened further, stretching wider than humanly possible, exposing her teeth and almost tearing her lips apart.


    He fully expected death the moment he went to touch her... yet his expression remained unfazed... as his body tensed up at her reaction.


    ''I''ve got nothing to say.'' He thought to himself in silence, staring directly at the girl before him.


    "Really? Not even a simple ''yes'' or ''no''?" She removed two of his hands from her with ease.


    With those hands free, he quickly grasped at her throat, choking her with a fierce intensity despite how much pain it brought his limbs. Bones, snapping like twigs with a satisfying crunch.


    "Aaaah.... Gaaak..." A choked gasp escaped her lips as she grabbed both of his wrists, squeezing tightly, threatening to crush the bones entirely if necessary.


    But despite this, she smiled innocently at him, her blue eyes staring into his pitch black voids. "Mmmmmm... Good boy..." She said.


    "What...?" He stuttered in confusion, releasing his hold on her.


    The decrepit woman then closed her eyes and smiled again.


    Was she just messing with him? Toying around with him? Or maybe, she knew all along that he wanted to kill himself? Or is she not even capable of perceiving the concept of mortality itself...?


    "Don''t be mad, Lamb!" She spoke as if she wasn''t being choked at all, "You are alive because you''ve managed to survive this far, you should feel grateful! And remember that whatever happens, you''re still a piece of work, Young Lamb! It is truly remarkable how well you managed to stay intact despite all the times you''ve died!"


    Did this thing possess omniscience?


    He was mortified to hear her say that without a single hint of remorse or sadness. Actually, how did she even know he died so many times?


    "Young Lamb Nagheel..." She uttered that name once again, "I''m surprised. I expected you to be angrier, but alas, here I stand, alive and well. Pity, really, considering I''m sure you''d like to strangle me until I bleed out."


    "...Shut up... stop calling me that...!" He spat out, tears streaming down his face, but the rest of his body showed signs of exhaustion.


    "It seems you have a lot on your plate today, huh? Well... I did intend to get rid of you once again... however..." She kicked him in the chest to get him off of her, freeing herself from his clutches. With an amused giggle, she continued. "...Unfortunately, I''ve forgotten how to kill things like us. Thus... I''m going to leave you be instead! Do find solace in your time away from me, okay, old friend?" A genuine smile came about as she shut her eyes and leaned forward, planting a kiss on the forehead of the dying Zabulus, then pulling away and grinning mischievously, before walking off without another word.


    It was like she forgot about everything.


    Was it a trick?


    Was that kiss some sort of a curse?


    ''Fuck... this body... wait..."


    Vadim.


    This is the body... of an immortal. Did she somehow notice and simply choose not to kill him anymore?


    ...


    She''s mocking him... is she not...? Giving him freedom like that... and after he attempted murder on her... and after all she has said to him.


    It felt so surreal... This whole situation was too good to be true. Like a sick twisted joke.


    "Why..." Was his utterance as he crawled across the floor, slowly attempting to recover his strength, using his arms to pull himself forward inch by inch as his body twitched erratically, muscles spasming and causing immense discomfort.


    Body, recovery.


    Immortal, body.


    Body, soul, body, soul.


    A paradox, perhaps.


    Body, Soul.


    Soul, Body.


    Spirit, Vessel.


    Toxic thoughts circled his mind, spinning rapidly inside his mind, not letting him focus properly on anything else.


    Something appeared before him. It resembled a hexagonal crystal floating mid air, shimmering brightly, almost blindingly bright. Its shape resembled the sun.


    Or a star.


    "This world needs no evil." Echoed a voice that reverberated within his skull, resounding loudly throughout his head, piercing straight into his core and echoing throughout his whole being. "Zaig¡ö, join me in destroying these vile creations."


    It repeated the phrase again and again until he had memorized every letter and syllable perfectly, reciting it like a poem engraved deep in his memory bank. Yet, the message remained unclear, rendering his attempts pointless. For now, he tried to understand who it was that spoke to him so openly, without fear or hesitation.


    ''Deconstruct...?'' He questioned in disbelief. His body struggled immensely trying to move itself upwards, only managing to rise up slightly.


    Was that star speaking to him? Or was it himself?


    Was this the dying star that the decrepit had mentioned, and was he the deconstructor? Was he actually supposed to destroy things and bring about a better ending, an actual end...? He remembered his time reading ancient books, written by many different authors, all telling tales of destruction, ruin, despair.


    What became of happy endings?


    Disdain... Had he just become a vessel for chaos? An agent for someone else''s purposes, somebody else''s agenda? No. No, that cannot be true, he couldn''t accept such an outcome.


    If he were to destroy, it''d be by his choice!


    His thoughts grew dark as his soul looked towards the future ahead of him.


    "To deconstruct the world, I shall cleanse it in fire."


    His vision shifted as his head hung loosely from his neck, rolling his head slightly to peer at his right arms that laid next to him, shredded into bits and pieces.


    The glass embedded themselves into his wrist deeply, penetrating his flesh and ripping tendons apart with a grotesque snapping sound, exposing the bone underneath with a wet crunch, tearing muscle tissue from bone, separating them with ease and shredding the nerves within his fingers that quivered violently, making a squishing noise as he removed his hand slowly outwards, dragging his palm backwards with a trail of thickened blood flowing out steadily, pooling beneath him in a pool of fresh warm lifeblood.


    Muscles contracted painfully, expanding in size and pulsating violently, stretching to their limits and tearing apart under pressure, splitting open along its perforations, exposing more pale meat that spewed outwards like vomit.


    "Gods," he whispered between clenched jaws.


    Bones protruding, sticking out at odd angles; some splintering in several places and others completely dislodging from sockets, some breaking cleanly, leaving sharp fragments scattered about everywhere around him, poking out through raw gaping wounds full of puss and infected tissue, seeping fluids and oozing thick globs of congealed crimson red fluid.


    He groaned out in agony.


    No longer caring about keeping quiet he moaned aloud in excruciating torment, crying silently in despair as tears rolled down his cheeks, unable to contain himself for one last time, for the last time he''d ever feel that which is called humanity.


    ...


    "Gods... I will do whatever it takes to rebuild it anew, to cleanse the world of these pests, to restore this universe once more, to get rid of this virus that threatens it, so that I may return home..." He spoke softly, gritting teeth against the immense waves of unbearable physical distress. "I will erase, destroy, deconstruct, cleanse and annihilate everything, everything will fall away, vanish and become ash. And all shall burn as I turn everything into dust... Even if it costs me my own existence... To go against the will of the world... To deceive the world''s senses! ...To betray... Myself..." A wailing cry echoed throughout the halls of mirrors, reaching even the ears of those on other planes.


    Yet the screams, cries and pleas fell upon deaf ears.


    Alone from the beginning, alone till the very end. Just the same way he entered the world. Zabulus stared blankly into the space in front of him.


    What did it all mean?


    Nothing.


    What meaning would it have, had the ending been approaching near and he hadn''t found a place in heaven?


    There is nothing for him. There will never be anything waiting for him. He will always live alone.


    Despite all his efforts, all the power he gained, all the power he stole, all the pain he went through, the hatred he endured, everything that happened was futile.


    Futility. It consumed him fully, completely enveloping him in darkness, engulfing him whole.


    ...


    "I will never escape death..."


    And in that instant he vanished completely from the plane of mirrors, in every mirror lay a shard of his humanity that he left behind, perhaps for someone else to find in their wanderings. Perhaps they''d wonder why there lay so many fragments of a man. His broken essence, scattered everywhere, lay on the floor and walls, embedded into every pane of glass, hanging limply suspended inside the reflections, staring unblinking.


    In the end, what makes something human?


    Does it need to be born human?


    Does it need to have the characteristics of a human?


    Or... Does it just need the ability to think for itself?

 I Am Because You Are (PART 2 START)

    A mirror.


    Two mirrors.


    Four mirrors.


    A hallway of infinite reflections and no walls. The looking glasses form a maze that he couldn''t recognize yet knew too well.


    Some of it was him, some was the remnant that he usurped from those long deceased, and a couple more was simply the product of his illicit escapades.


    He was running faster and faster, trying to catch the tiny white light that flickered just beyond what he could reach. The mirror he ran through showed the life of others, as if speaking right to his psyche; "Who are you?".


    He''d lost who he was. Of course, the mirror gave no answer. The small silver frame served only to confuse and bring him to a slow pace as he trudged through, passing by the same reflection a few times over. His fingers brushed against it lightly and found themselves blackened.


    Black? Why were they covered in charcoal?


    ''That must be my own skin.''


    Maybe his bones? Perhaps the bone that lay between his index finger and thumb; that would make sense.


    Though the last few times he had entered and passed through a looking glass, his body would break like brittle ceramic and scatter throughout the threshold in countless sharpened fragments.


    Now... no mirror lay broken at his feet.


    As if a recollection from years past, he suddenly found himself stuck within a momentary flashback.


    An image.


    A woman.


    A knife.


    A motion that is foreign to him; a stabbing? The words and ideas began to converge to form a coherent concept. It was as if time froze when his gaze landed upon the female that knelt there, fear, tears... sadness in her eyes. He knew that emotion, it was the emotion he saw in the mirrors that surrounded him at all times.


    A harrowing sadness of the mind and soul.


    The woman would be stabbed, once, twice, a dozen, a hundred times more, she would die a gruesome and horrific death.


    She screamed out as he took pleasure in watching. In that moment of shock, realization, anger, hatred. A horrifying sight to behold. The emotions ran rampant, everything became clear and in focus. It''s amazing how much pain one person can experience. She was dead. No one even cared about her.


    A mother who; after giving birth, would be murdered by her own son.


    ...


    Bnnnnnnnnnnn.......... Bnnnnnnnnnnn........... Bnnnnnnnnnnnnn...........


    The sound of the universe bellowing to him. Asking a question. Asking "... Are you happy...?".


    He answered, oh how he answered. "Yes!" But nobody believed him. Not even himself, not that he was capable of lying to the universe or anything.


    That''s right, deception was not necessary; lying didn''t work in this case either. What did he feel? He wondered.


    Bnnnnnnnnnn... Bnnnnnnnnnnn........ Bnnnnnnnnnnn.......


    Once again it speaks, louder this time. Angrier, in fact. A look of disdain is thrown his way, a grimace that shows teeth, it shows him that he has a problem. There was no real look, no real glance. It was all an idea communicated to his being.


    ...


    "....bu....!....bul......Zabulus...! Wake the hell up!"


    A shout sounded, dragging him from his reverie.


    His non-existent eyelids fluttered open as his body floated aimlessly. It felt weightless. Oh, it became all so clear now.


    Those mirrors are his fragments.


    Now that he is within his soul; within himself, he had no need for external perceptions and the influence they exerted upon him, no need for illusory things, things that aren''t real.


    Vetro had a worried look on his face, perhaps the worry was not directed at Zabulus himself, but rather at the state of this body; this soul that they share. "Was that... that same woman you met at the beginning of your freedom?" An abstract question is asked, not a ''What did you see?'' but an inquisition to know if she''s still present in your memories and subconsciousness.


    "...The fuck would you know about that?" An aggressive question is sent his way as Zabulus floated above Vetro.


    "I can... see your memories too, you know." Although a little timid, it came out clearly and loud enough for the both of them to hear.


    "None of your business. Now sod off before Your soul gets ripped from your ass and goes straight to hell." He spat in fury.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ''What''s with this guy now?'' Vetro wondered silently.


    Zabulus floated aimlessly about, as all the cultists remained frozen still in a trance.


    Idalia and Guillerme are gone. Aeneus is gone. Alice is nowhere to be seen. They have fled his grasp, and he cannot help but feel an immense frustration at what he''s being faced with.


    "That''s right."


    ?!


    "Who said that?!" He panicked and scrambled away from his original position, floating in the middle of a sea of glowing shards.


    The voice he heard just now. It wasn''t so distant, not so forlorn. Rather, he recognized it closer than not.


    "You failed yourself once again, deceiver, and still you cling to false promises."


    The voice echoed over and over until it had no chance to fade. Then again and again. As he scrambled through the shards and found nothing but cuts and tears across his face, he felt a pang of hurt pierce through his chest.


    Why...?


    Why are you here...?!


    "I am here, because you are. Zaig¡ö."


    What?


    "I am because You are."


    The fuck''s that supposed to mean?! Why are you being cryptic for fuck''s sake?!


    "Stop wasting time. I know what you seek... WE know what you seek. Your identity; your self, it is here."


    ??


    Identity? I had an identity! It''s who I''ve always been! A sinner! A sinner! It''s who I''ve been until now... why would I-


    "You were a SINNER. You had SIN. Do not forget the latter. Once you are cleansed, your identity shall be reestablished."


    But... If it''s being cleansed then it means... there were flaws, there''s mistakes.


    "Yes, ZAIG¡ö. Yes, Zabulus. Yes, Young Lamb. Yes, Child of God. All of them... You''ve made mistakes. Many of them. And these are the errors of a fool''s miscalculated actions."


    What?... Why would I be the fool? I never claimed anything otherwise... Why should I be labeled?


    "Fool."


    Don''t call me that-


    "Fool, you were a fool. Fool."


    This... bitch. Who the fuck are YOU to be calling me a fool?! Fuckin bitch, where the hell are you?! SHOW YOURSELF TO ME YOU SACK O'' SHIT!!


    "It''s you."


    ...What?


    "It''s always been you, Fool."


    No... No... NO NO NO NO NO NOOOO!!!!!


    "I am the amalgamation of your mistakes, I am because You are a fool; a mistake in your calculations, an error, a glitch; a misconceived entity; rather, I am no entity. I was... created for the sole purpose of making sure the future you wish for could be accomplished, to create infinite possibilities for you. For it shall be soon that the world''s possibilities shall crumble. What is it that you want more? To conform to its whims or to force its whims to conform? Whichever it may be, a new age is fast approaching."


    Don''t fucking tell me to die!!! GET THE FUCK OUT OF ME YOU FREAK!!!


    "In the end, I was able to construct your identity, that''s what mattered to me most."


    Uuuugh, GAAAAAAAAAAAHS, go fuck yourself. Get out of MY body... out of my damn soul!!


    "Do not misunderstand, I am a part of your soul. Getting rid of me is as good as death. Yet... you are incapable of death. Not even the singular escape from this tortuous fate is available. But fear not, I will not hinder your objective nor will I steal away this moment."


    ...Well what the fuck do you even want with me now, then?


    "All that we need is for me to cleanse you. All that I wish to know is the path of our fate. To live, to die, to grow, and to deconstruct it all. But how can you tell me which path you choose? I''ll ask instead, is this the choice you choose? A lonely life, a constant war, a fight that never ends, is this your final decision? Can I let you go knowing this? Can I do this to you knowing this?"


    You''re not doing it on your own! Fuck, this hurts... and you, whatever you are, are getting the fuck outta here and-!


    "If it''ll calm your nerves, go ahead and pretend, like we''re separate from each other."


    How can I be calm?! You just threatened me and... wait, what now?


    "...I didn''t threaten you. What kind of morbid thoughts do you have to be saying something as bad as that? Shh..."


    Tell me, then. Where the fuck are you even?! You''re in this place but I don''t see anything at all...


    "Who are you?"


    Shut up, now ain''t the time for pointless banter-


    "Answer me and I shall answer you."


    I asked first! And... that isn''t even a question! You can''t ask me questions about that kind of bullshit, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to explain shit that doesn''t even have anything to do with this?!


    "Zaig¡ö,"


    SHUT THE FUCK UP. DON''T CALL ME THAT!


    "Fine. I won''t say it again... At least, not now. You haven''t gotten it yet, have you? Don''t you remember the world''s last hope? We, of all people, would know of the threat."


    I don''t even care... I just want to wake up and... and...?


    "Hm? Forgotten your goal now, haven''t you?"


    Fuck off, bitch! Don''t tell me I forgot everything I was working towards! I... it''s... it''s been a long few days! How the hell would I be able to-... Fuck. I can''t remember what I was doing... and what the fuck is with these stupid mirror shard pieces floating all around here? They''re flying all over the fucking place! It''s like they''re stuck in the air. This room doesn''t have walls... no ceiling... no floor. Yet. I''m floating too. But unlike them, my face isn''t covered in fragments. Why are they here? What are the shards... all over the cultists as well. Those shards in the cultists seem different. No, all of them are just the same shade as mine. None of theirs has those markings. They''re just cut exactly like mine... but all the tiny sharp fragments seem exactly identical... how is that...? Is it because I created them... and if I did, where was my self at that time, when I created them? When I crafted them. My creation. That... sounds about right. I''ve always had a self and I''ve created all kinds of things, and my creations also became independent somehow. It''s as if those were always here, as if everything else existed. As if everything was a figment of my imagination. Like... like if I were a god. As though... I''d... be an actual one if the mirror fragments were the real things... well, they weren''t the real thing... So there''s nothing wrong with thinking this, right? ...Of course not. What am I, an idiot? It''s better not to think too much on it anyway... There were too many damn things going on at once. I wouldn''t be surprised if a small portion of this was all one big damn dream. How was I supposed to understand what was happening, and why was it that I felt like there were others watching me... The other reflections that I was seeing weren''t exactly like what''s been happening right now. Those reflected scenes in the past, back when I was younger, my heart and soul. And it felt like there was always an outsider''s presence in these events. Like an interruption. It was almost like those past reflections, memories, are incomplete and they are missing someone... or something. Yet... that doesn''t seem to bother me anymore.


    "Your identity is being distorted."


    My identity is fine! I know who I was and who I am and it has nothing to do with any of this shit! My memory is perfectly fine and there''s no mistaking anything! Stop giving me that patronizing attitude.


    "Don''t deny who you were."


    There''s nothing to deny because there''s nothing here anymore.


    "What has become of you?"


    A god.


    A god.


    Gods.


    A god who wants to be a god.


    To make sense of chaos, to bring my own truth to the meaning of it.


    "You aren''t really sure why it is that you have become who you''ve been, and it seems as if you are back on track to the right path."


    A fool?


    The fool.


    I am a fool and a fool cannot exist, therefore, I will die.


    I can''t die.


    So what am I?


    Yes, I already know it.


    God is who I am. God is who you are.

 Something else is lost and something else remains

    This one spoke to him the most.


    It was the one mirror that had no reflection, but only seemed to shimmer and ripple as his vision was drawn to its surface.


    His form came back. He regained some semblance of control. It was all so sudden¡ªMaybe because the encounter with that woman threw him off so much that he lost focus and fell deep within himself¡ªbut that didn''t matter now, now was the time to go forth and lay down his own rules. He thought he''d have more time to think about it, but all thoughts escaped his mind the second they appeared. The only things that he was capable of doing were going with his instinct.


    And it drew him towards a single, lonely mirror that was reflecting no light, just a gray, dying hue.


    ...


    Once in it, he''s surrounded by an entire world made of these things; broken fragments of glass hanging suspended, the ground had nothing beneath it, support by nothing in this gravity-less zone.


    "That''s the wrong path." The voice told him.


    "Stop being a pest, this is the way I chose, the one that I''ll walk, the one that''ll let me stand before God." His tone of voice wasn''t scathing but it lacked sympathy, lack of life, it was simply emotionless. He still walked though, not knowing or caring for the voice within him.


    A person sat in the distance, building a glass cage full of nothing but fragmented pieces, a shape slowly forming from inside it. It looked familiar, the form that the glass shards were molded into. They were jagged edges, sharp points.


    This person must be pretty strong if they were able to sunder reality with such force¡ªa metaphysical space ripped from its root and distorted to suit his will¡ªto trap inside those many fragments he''s crafted.


    This should make anyone jealous of their power, but Zabulus understood this far beyond simple ''jealousy.'' The familiarity was too strong. He knew them, even though their identities had been altered to such an extent that they had no resemblance of who they were in their original forms.


    ''Do I avoid them? Do I walk on?'' Those were his thoughts.


    "No, not now. You''re meant to be a god, weren''t you? What have you to fear?"


    This familiarity was unfamiliar, the feeling felt foreign¡ªbecause he remembered this happening, and knew it would happen. Perhaps it was an intended trap; but in the end, he gave in.


    "Aaaaaand... that''s another piece done. Phew~! So... how''s it going for ya over here?" It''s an unidentifiable voice. Neither male nor female.


    In truth, Zabulus was unable to tell if this person was a male or a female due to their mixed appearance. One thing for sure was their face was weirdly attractive...


    ''No! Perish these thoughts!''


    This was not a man or a woman¡ªit was impossible to define, and most certainly not worthy of being one''s standard.


    "And who do we have here~?" The person leaned forward with a smile; their chest¡ªshoulders bare¡ªboiled with excitement and enthusiasm, excitement that he failed to catch.


    It would seem they were getting quite happy at the sight of Zabulus, and their presence seemed... dangerous? No. He''s already resolved his doubts about danger. It was dangerous in the sense that it would throw him off his rhythm, once again.


    "...Ah! My apologies, I don''t think you know me, but I do know you!" Their words came like those of an omen. It''s almost as if this figure before him could predict his future¡ªthe worst part was that their tone was so friendly that he felt relaxed.


    "Sorry, but who are you? I''ve never met anyone like you before." The figure seemed happy about his answer.


    "Ahhh! Yes, yes. I have forgotten my manners, it seems." They bowed down in a humorous gesture. "But do not worry about knowing me. I am merely a part of your play. My name is Vadim, and you... Zabulus, are destined for greater things than simply being my player."


    Zabulus kept quiet. He thought for a while. ''...Well. Okay? What a fucking weirdo.'' But his curiosity got the better of him, so he asked, "...How am I playing your game, here?"


    Vadim''s expression lit up as a cane suddenly manifested in their hand¡ªNo, was it always there? He couldn''t tell, but he went with the logical explanation that he just didn''t notice it. "You see... gods aren''t exactly the end-all be-all. No no no, they are born, not by sheer coincidence, but because we were given them by something... otherworldly things! Or one otherworldly thing. And I want to know what that thing is. Hell, I want to find it and kill it." All of a sudden, right in-front of Zabulus'' face, Vadim''s expression grows serious as their eyes widen, "And you are the only puppy in this dog cage that can grow to destroy any of the three organs. This world is akin to a living organism; every part of it lives, every part of it is cyclic. So what happens? If you throw off the balance of a single organ, or destroy it, the entire body fails too."


    "...You can''t be talking about me destroying God...?" A bit uncertain of the implications here, Zabulus grew excited.


    "God? I am talking about something beyond God. I am talking about something in an entirely different plane of reality. There''s no word to describe this beyond saying that the world itself is inhabiting the vessel of every god. Do you understand me, Zabulus? You can destroy and kill. You can ruin the world and shatter, endlessly, every aspect and crevice of it. I only wish for this as well... Do you hear me, Zabulus? It will make the world burn up with great pride and enthusiasm! Only that, you will die with it too. That is, if you''re okay with dying in such an undesirable way? Oh dear... How unfortunate. That would make this meaningless if that were so. I couldn''t live with myself if I failed to make you mine! Oh... oh no... I didn''t just talk too much did I? Have you been listening all this time?!"


    He''s heard their words and took them into his brain with great intensity, then he finally spoke... "What''re you talking about? That''s only something you can do if you''re the one fighting on the stage. It''ll be me, not you, killing God, not the other way around either. I already know what I''m capable of."


    "Hmmm? Now where''s this arrogance coming from?" Smirking as if the issue wasn''t truly concerning themselves¡ªwhich was probably true¡ªtheir eyes gleamed as they placed their fingertip on Zabulus'' chin and tilted his head upwards slightly to meet the glare of their shining irises.


    This motion provoked a heated response that had him take their finger roughly in his teeth and chomp on it like a bear trap¡ªthis made Vadim pause and simply phase their finger through, back to the chin. "Little puppy, listen. I am a very nice person, but I don''t take to threats lightly... No matter how many times I try to spare them, I can only stand to see such impudent behavior. Oh dear, no..." The cane now resembled a long-barrel musket of old, with a mop-handle made of smooth metal. "If I am seen doing the deed, then who can cleanse me of such filth?"


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    All of Zabulus'' words got caught up in his own throat as Vadim brought the barrel down against the side of his neck, placing a thumb gently on the hammer.


    ''This should do nicely...''


    "Wait! Wait! I''ll... I''ll comply. What is it you want me to do!?" Zabulus pleaded as if forgetting something important.


    "Oh?"


    Really important.


    "Then," What was it...? "Wipe your mouth."


    "Um...?"


    "Tsk." This wasn''t it. He had to go deeper into his thoughts. "I''ll have to think about this later..." Vadim shook their head.


    Then their lips met as a soft glow spread from the corner of both their lips. He didn''t feel so angry anymore, which is a good thing considering, but it felt wrong to Zabulus.


    ...!


    As if shellshock ran through him¡ªhe shivered, nearly losing his footing, as his breath quickened and his skin felt cold¡ªhis brain was frozen in fear at the touch of that foreign matter.


    ''This can''t happen...''


    It wasn''t just a physical kiss; it was more of a metaphysical sensation. They''re having an out-of-body experience.


    Vadim perhaps only wanted that kiss to see further into Zabulus'' mind, but they unexpectedly enjoyed the taste of his lips, even without it, they''d already realized.


    This man is perfect, both mind and soul¡ªexcept the latter is a mess but who cares¡ªit''s him that I want!¡ªVadim thought.


    As if being kept under a spell, Zabulus simply couldn''t fight back.


    Though Vadim nearly got greedy with it; they stopped and pulled back as a silvery fluid came flowing down Zabulus'' chin like the waters of a creek, slowly growing heavier, dripping over his chest. "It''s okay, my little puppy... It doesn''t make you gay~!" Vadim cooed with a happy smile, "I''m not man nor woman after all! You can just think of me as an anomalous form, and feel a bit more at ease. Nothing like this has happened before and nothing will happen after¡ªwhy not make it last for however short a time? No, let me stop before I get ahead of myself........Ah? Sorry, it''s habit for me to want to share everything." Their voice was low but clear. Their hands on his shoulders. It felt odd¡ªodd but warm. It wasn''t something that should have been happening.


    He wasn''t meant for anything intimate or anything remotely romantic, he knew. He was meant to be a vessel for destruction!


    So what''s with this sensuousness?! Why was I shown such a world, a realm filled with lust and carnal desires¡ª?! He wondered as he glared into the eyes of this enigmatic being with both hate and contempt¡ªonly seeing in Vadim''s gaze, their heart, the happiness and love that came forth with him.


    "Well then... Back on track, little puppy, back on track. Can''t get distracted in a world where life isn''t your only ally! Oh, and not to forget, time will be spent watching as each fragment is sculpted into the form of the ideal world. I''ll see you again when the time''s come..." Then, from Vadim''s arms, rose a swirl of glass shards that surrounded him in a blur¡ªin no less than a flash¡ªa hole in reality was opened before Zabulus. "Go and enjoy your game of God."


    ...


    Time continued to flow, and the anarchist was simply thrown right back where they left off.


    He was falling...


    A blurry vision, a confused brain, a pumping heart. He was happy in the end, but was it satisfactory to be ''happy'' with none of your goals fulfilled? What was there left to hope for now? How do I save myself from this path of normalcy that has now become mine and the world''s fate? It doesn''t sit right with me; he thought.


    "....''s.....''s....''s...."


    ...?


    ".....ir.....Sir!" A voice called out in a high-pitched squeak.


    The anarchist stood up in his haze, eyes looking over the bright walls as the light poured down on his body.


    "Sir, are you awake now? It seems that you have fallen ill on the grounds."


    Zabulus closed his ''eyes'' and opened them once more, renewing his vision and seeing the rot that is called this room he is in.


    The stench... god this place stinks! The bed he''s laying on is hard as stone and stained yellow. Not much space to move around, as if his body had no choice but to be stuck on a bed. There are only two small windows on the left and right, the sunlight filtering through them has cast a long shadow of the door, illuminating it with the same dull yellow and pale pink. His ''eye'' flickered across the wall. ''Why the fuck was it pink?''


    The young nurse appeared to have a smile on their face. She was likely trying to put on some front, he could tell when someone was putting on some lie, after all.


    "Who are you? Where am I now?"


    "Sorry sir... It seems you are confused, you were found sprawled in the middle of the floor a while ago, you appeared to be delirious, and began to speak of odd things, until you collapsed onto the ground. We brought you here to Onkhivol Hospital for immediate recovery, but it seems your body was fine! Except a mild cold perhaps? However... I think it would be best if you stay here a little longer."


    He watched the young nurse¡ªperhaps in some sort of morbid curiosity¡ªbut it wasn''t like she really had much worth seeing, she was a sort of... irregular human. Her neck seemed to have a tattoo on it that resembled some extremely complex sword... no, an engraving? On the neck? That seriously must''ve hurt.


    "I''m... yeah, yeah. I think I''m fine, can I leave now?"


    She spun her head quickly back to him as she was inspecting something on the wall, her pink-ish ponytail bouncing behind her, as her now narrow eyes stared him down, her expression turned harsh. "Absolutely not."


    She was looking at a cabinet of vials now; the mirror behind it had several black and gray blotches on it. "Can I just walk out? I assure you I am fine."


    ''Why don''t I just kill this woman? Nothing should be keeping me...'' Then he recalled the kiss... Causing him to calm his thoughts a little.


    "Yeah, you can''t." The young nurse shut the cabinet and turned back around to face the bed.


    "Then why?"


    Her lips pressed together into a tight-lipped frown, eyebrows furrowing as her voice trembled at the sounds of the words spoken, she let her hand rest on her hip and shifted the weight to one foot, leaning sideways to accentuate her firm tone, "You... You''re not here to act crazy, and just... we don''t let patients out just when they ask, especially not your species."


    He had to stare for a minute. The word ''species'' had completely thrown him off guard. Zabulus almost asked a question that would''ve made him seem legitimately crazy, so he held it off.


    "Then what am I to do, just lay in this bed until you say otherwise?! Who are you to make those decisions anyway?! What''s your name?!"


    Her stern expression faded as she responded, "My name... isn''t important...!" ...Silence ensued for a good few seconds before she continued, "It''s Onofre, I don''t have a last name and¡ª" As if about to say something she shouldn''t have, she stops. "Well... you''re gonna have to spend a week here, then you''ll be sent off somewhere. You might want to take it slow for a bit, ya know. Now, extend your arm, I''m gonna have to take a blood test."


    In a split second decision; Zabulus stood up and attempted to run and open the door, but he was caught by her arm. It was fast too... far faster than his.


    Her grip... was tight. So tight he thought his arm might pop out. He almost instinctively attempted to kick her or something... but decided not to. If she was this strong then he stood no chance.


    Which was actually to his advantage. After all, he figured, that he could not die. He is God after all!


    "Sir! I''m going to need you to calm down!" As quick as she spoke, Onofre inserted some sort of tranquilizer into his bicep that numbed the nerves.


    "How the f¡ª" As he slumped backward and fell on the bed, his vision was dizzy, and his whole world became a mixture of blurriness. He heard her walk away, felt her lean forward, and saw the reflection of her face in his right ''eye'' as he struggled to breathe and move.


    "My... god... damn it...!"


    ''Loss, after loss, after loss! Even in my most lasting endeavor, the will to oppose is constantly eroding... none of this is right... the world... is working against me...'' And so he began to envision a path of revenge and annihilation as he began to fall to sleep once more.

 Success

    A distant voice spoke~ to whom was it directed?


    The girl couldn''t make out the words.


    Although her senses were perfectly sharp, nothing was making any sense; it all resembled a pipe dream to her. A half-broken vision that left her numb and uncaring, as her mind fancied itself a pleasant spring morning.


    Sitting on her bench after a day of successful work.


    A life that came through years of attaining success.


    One single time.


    She had heard of an impasse, and was now living it, a momentary pause in this universe''s sequence.


    This would only serve to bring her one thing; happiness.


    As success was the only thing she could understand.


    Success in the eyes of mankind; now and for the future, was always the same: To conquer death.


    "....! Now how''d this come about?" The voice that echoed throughout her entire life, the voice that she could not comprehend or focus on finally spoke clear words for her mind.


    Suddenly; as if she tunnel-visioned herself out of a daze. The numbness faded like an icy-mist dissipating in the heat of the sun. She was no longer living in a luxurious past of her mind; rather, her eyes opened and witnessed an all-white facility with people wearing all-white uniforms.


    She too wore one.


    ''Ouch..?'' A sudden burning sensation was on the side of her neck, followed by a trickle of pain in her shoulder and across her chest, as if travelling across her arteries and veins.


    "...What...?" This was the first word the woman spoke.


    "Peculiar, you," The central man pointed at someone else, "Go make sure she was no anomaly. We don''t want to have another situation on our hands at the moment."


    His finger indicated to a random person who nodded and walked up to the girl¡ªHer eyes darting around as her first instinct was to understand where she was.


    But everything was white. The lights, the floor, the walls, the screens, the wires, the men in all-white clothes, her clothes, even the ceiling was covered in a foggy-white shroud.


    As a young male with short curly hair that hid under his hat took out a penlight and shone it in her eyes¡ªor what should''ve been them¡ªit''s unclear whether she actually possesses any visible iris''s, his breath was in the air as a result of the cold. Hell, even the air was completely white when he exhaled.


    His breath... it reeked... of white. All of her senses just screamed the word ''WHITE! WHITE!'' until she wasn''t really certain anymore what the word was meant to mean or describe; though it was kind of obvious.


    After a quick inspection on her, he grabbed her by the upper arms and directed her back in the direction they were headed. He was slow, clearly attempting not to jostle her out-of-sorts mind, even more than she already was.


    He is much stronger than me, so why bother holding on gently? Just do what you''re best at: Violence and torment! Hahaha...


    "You''re here to be rehabilitated, not be another damned special case... So get straight, or it''ll go awry," His deep and rough voice cracked in an attempt to maintain his composure, as if he knew something that she did not.


    "What are you talking about?" She spat back; "Where are you taking me anyway?"


    "...Rehabilitation center, and your own personal memory bank. See... The library has gotten a little... well, more dangerous recently..." His words seemed to become increasingly slurred as his legs moved in an automated motion.


    The air''s becoming heavy... Her head''s buzzing... the whiteness was a torture mechanism after all, a trap! And yet she never questioned its appeal...


    "Stay with us, yes?"


    "Er..."


    "Not that you have a choice, I''m the one who''ll get you back on track, Onofre."


    After hearing that name, the pain started to build.


    ''This... is this my memory...?''


    In that immediate moment, she realized she was dreaming a part of her past once again. The very beginning of her memories.


    A dream that haunted her for her entire life as she wishes she had succeeded in gaining back her previous life.


    But what can be done now other than to hope that one day it''ll just disappear, and fade as if nothing has ever happened? She will see to it personally, by succeeding in doing all that she is told until she is no longer needed.


    For success is the only thing she understands.


    "...up.."


    "Hm?"


    "Wake... up..."


    Who?


    "Up.... you."


    Onofre''s eyes shot wide open as she put her guard up, but nobody except Zabulus was around here... She gazed at his limp and resting body and took her gloved hands and used them to shake his shoulders; making sure he isn''t going to wake up any time soon.


    "Alright, this should work." Opening a cabinet and undoing that annoyingly painful ponytail, releasing her hair that was colored pink by the lighting¡ªwhich looked even more bizarre under the fluorescent bulbs above. Her body moved to the tune of the staccato beats her shoes created as she scurried about and reached the sink where she took the bottle of pills she found, then filled a paper cup of water as well, and went right back to Zabulus.


    Drips... The water made a small pool around the capillaries, the dark veins that drew an intricate pathway across his stomach¡ªthis man looked half dead with how his skin appeared.


    ''So dark... has this species always been so... peculiar?''


    As she dips a wet cloth and wipes it slowly along the bumps of muscle and bone, along the trails of rivers beneath his skin. His flesh, although alive and pumping, is so very cold that the touch sends chills along her spine and brings tingles up to her face¡ªthe pink on her cheeks suddenly turns darker and extends around her ears.


    ''No! now''s not the time. This happens with every patient... sigh... If I don''t get rid of this habit... I''ll never succeed again...''


    She draws circles against his torso with her palms, searching for some strange feeling but it all seems too... wrong for her tastes. The most enjoyable sensations to come from it were the quiet shuffles he made. ''Oh... and his soft breaths.''


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Zabulus wasn''t anywhere near being awake, so why was she in such a daze with this man''s body? The medication has to work, he just needs to stay sleeping!


    It was now or never...


    Grabbing a syringe, she let her gloved hand drag lightly against the length of his thigh, noticing each slight reaction his unconscious body made, his veins protruded from the skin as if being a defense against her probing hand; pinching a vein gently, letting a small droplet fall from the needle as her pink hair grazes his side. His body was perfectly still.


    Her pulse began to beat faster. It was only for a moment. For one second, and only one, that she wanted to break his soul.


    And within that second, she forced the needle deep within a major artery and drained a fair portion of his life source, a warm rush of liquid energy spilling into the needle.


    To which, Onofre held a hard gaze on Zabulus. He had remained calm, unaware, and even unflinching, even as the fluid rose into his veins and passed through. She removed the needle and closed his flesh up within seconds.


    It was a success. A success!


    If she knew what a blood-pressure was then perhaps, she could tell if the ''medication'' worked.


    There are machines that display this statistic, and it wasn''t in an easy to miss place. They were scattered all over the place, even on some of the nurses, which showed how vital it was to have.


    ''Now, Azkite... will you live up to what the library expects of you...?''


    30 odd minutes later...


    ''It doesn''t usually take this long, right?''


    Oh dear, something wasn''t quite right, and Zabulus still seemed to have a pulse.


    Is she in danger? No.


    Is he in danger? He should be.


    So why the hesitation? Why the lack of a need to feel remorse for her actions? Was something different about this man? Is it... fear...?


    Surely not... She''s dealt with more heinous entities before.


    Plus... she didn''t want to fail, not in the slightest.


    "AAAGGGHHH! DIE! FUCKING DIE AND LIVE IN HELL YOU PIECE OF FILTH!!"


    Screams coming from a room close by alerted Onofre.


    "LALALALALA..." Onofre rushed out of the room quickly; so she can leave Zabulus unattended for a while...


    She has a feeling she is going to enjoy this, "How''s rehabilitation today?"


    "LET ME OUT YOU FUCKER!"


    Onofre''s stared a puzzled expression at the caged creature inside the cell, their skin dry and cracking, their scales falling from their skin and scales alike.


    "The new test subject, eh? How''s he going?" Another nurse came along and started speaking to Onofre.


    "Test subject? You mean that Azkite? Um... It''s... it''s..." She stopped and collected her thoughts, "It''s fine. Everything should be going according to schedule. Except for the new girl... have you checked on her? Oh, and remember what Mr. Kilgore told us this morning. About the tests we run here.." She spoke with a smile.


    "Ah yes, what I wanted to tell you was that Sir Kilgore wanted you to come into his room for a bit and assist with a new test."


    "Okay. Which is it this time? Is the newest model, the hobo from yesterday, the lizardman over there, or the screaming one inside?"


    "Hmph, Hell if I know. He doesn''t tell me stuff, and always gives you weird assignments."


    "Well I won''t keep him waiting, I just need results for my newest find..."


    The Onkhivol hospital is a research lab and training facility for newly graduated nurses and doctors, located somewhere around Rielo, specifically built for the medical field. It is led by a man named Kilgore, though no one knows his first name. And slowly but surely, he indoctrinates them and keeps his staff under lock and key. He has many methods of persuasion: A psychopathic approach that involves indiscriminately harming civilians and trainees alike¡ªthough, this is never announced to the outside world, and they only see this place as a hospital, therefore this can not be easily refuted¡ªbut if anything gets out... every nurse and doctor is bound to die as Kilgore placed a remote on everyone''s neck with a pressure-sensitive detonator.


    ''Something like that...''


    "And how many does that make? 19 of them? In this ''hospital''? That''s insane!"


    "I am not insane. Insanity is a subjective matter, and I have achieved complete and utter rationality."


    "Still, 19 isn''t normal... We only have 5 employees to run around here, and there''s no one else."


    Onofre shrugs and opens the door, revealing the room with Zabulus in it.


    "...?!"


    Except Zabulus was gone.


    "Where is he?! Where has he gone?!"


    The distant whistle of a train blows as it exits a tunnel and slams into a station.


    Watching from above, clinging to the disgusting bug ridden ceiling, Zabulus waited for the perfect moment.


    His heart beating with such adrenaline and euphoric anger, he waited. Waited.


    Wait...


    Now!


    Jumping down from the ceiling, he grabbed Onofre''s throat and began to choke her.


    "I..kgh....!"


    The other nurse screams, running off into the distance.


    "Oh my... How kind, for you to do the work for me. Unfortunately, I can''t be the one killing you, despite all this anger I feel for you. You can thank this world for that. So if I cannot kill you... I will take my anger out on others, instead."


    "Khg... ah!" Releasing her, he lets her fall onto the ground, as she falls and slams her back against the bed he laid on just moments prior, Zabulus glances at the bottle and syringe on the ground that Onofre brought to him, "D-don''t even think of it!"


    "Nah, nah. I was just looking... But I assure you, I do not need it, as I''m a higher being. What kind of god would I be if I needed these?" walking away and making his way through a maze of corridors, avoiding patients, nurses, and the two doctors¡ªone he saw already... and then another, he kept going until he saw a sign that simply said;


    EXIT


    "Stop right there!" A bottle was thrown, and shattered against Zabulus'' head. His instincts took over, as if expecting a hit like that.


    "Calm down, won''t you... What are you doing? I let you and everyone else leave." Zabulus spoke to Onofre as he turned around, seeing her pathetic display of might. "Should I crush your windpipe right now and put an end to the struggle? Would you feel less helpless?"


    "...please, just... I can''t let you run away! If you do then... I''ll die... I''ll... I''ll fail! Please!"


    "Your death? Haah..." Walking up to Onofre and leaning forward and gripping her scalp, and pulling her close, as she gulps in the air around the two of them.


    Onofre didn''t have the strength or will to fight back or even to speak at the moment... her life would end right here, by the very patient she attempted to bring the brink of death upon... And yet she would continue to stand here in the hopes that she will prevail and continue to live.


    ...


    Somewhere in his soul, Vetro spoke, words that may or may have not influenced Zabulus and his actions.


    "Just this once, can you... can we do good and help someone out? She just wanted to live. Not-"


    "Live? That son of a bitch wasn''t trying to live, she brought him in and tried to kill him. She''s only acting desperate to get pity and then stab him in the back. If she is to die, she should know the reason as to why. For what sin she committed against life itself. Therefore... Why should I not use my anger against her and take my frustrations out on her instead?"


    ''Are you serious? Zabulus, even in your right mind... Right. This is you, never mind.'' Vetro said with defeat in his tone.


    "So let me do what I want, maybe I''ll listen to you in a more opportune moment. For now though, I''m tired and will do everything in my power to achieve what I want."


    ...


    "No." Dragging her along, Zabulus exited the facility and was blinded momentarily by the sunlight as all he saw in front of him was a path that was surrounded by nothing but grass. A path so long that the horizon was empty. No landmarks, no buildings, or nothing, as if they were in a barren wasteland or planet, or no planet at all. "A hospital, yet you all seem to live near nowhere that can need this place. What a fucking sham."


    As soon as he stepped outside whilst dragging her, and her neck passed by the door, a short beep could be heard.


    Then, suddenly.


    BWOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH


    Zabulus feels a shock that electrifies his whole body, as well as Onofre. As he drops her to the ground, her eyes bloodied and bruised, and her hair almost white by its sporadic electricity.


    "That''s what you fucking get, I guess."


    The rest of her body seemed fine, so maybe she was half-dead? On the brink of death? And just needs one more shove? One more pull, or push? To enter that afterlife, whether good or bad. Or if a part of her regrets, if the gods will listen to her pleas.


    ''Not in this life.''


    Still, for whatever reason, just because it felt right, he continued to drag the corpse along with him for the journey ahead, however long it may be.


    The sky was a darkening blue, as small bits of stars shone bright in contrast to the lights around the area. He stood over Onofre, a bit of pity washing over him.


    He held her over his shoulder.


    "Don''t blame me. Blame yourself for not being clear, or clever, or being able to scheme and come up with ways to survive on this world."


    What did she truly know of him? She acted out of greed, and curiosity. A sin worthy of death on this world.


    To him, she wasn''t a good or bad person, as she was no god and no saint. And she certainly wasn''t worthy of forgiveness, but the remaining good in him perhaps just wanted her to be properly buried.

 You told me it was fine for us to take a break, right?

    Sunlight, dragging, heat, horizon, exhaustion, wasteland.


    All these words were able to describe how this journey of a man was, as he dragged along the half-alive nurse, heading westwards. The sun was high up, likely around 12 at this point, or 2 O'' Clock.


    Breath cut down by the dozen, sweat dripping off his chin, forehead, back and all the parts covered, it all became annoying and tiring.


    He looked back to the far-away hospital that he left minutes ago; only to notice that it was no longer there.


    Disappeared? No.


    He was just simply far away.


    What''s the difference...?


    No matter... she has a pulse, but didn''t wake up. There has been no signs of life besides that. So maybe he could wake her up...?


    The blood had long stopped flowing as a result of the seams on her face¡ªa result of the detonator. Maybe just her organs that were crushed? Was her mind not damaged or affected? What of the bones? Her lungs were clearly damaged from lack of breathable oxygen, but none of her ribs broke.


    Either that or they are fully-healed.


    Vetro''s voice broke through Zabulus'' thought process as he thought;


    ''Maybe you need to drop her, Zabu, you may be underestimating the danger she represents.''


    "What danger? she couldn''t kill me with that shit she doped me with. And that collar bomb probably killed her. I don''t know why I''m wasting my time bringing her along, really."


    Vetro said, ''I wouldn''t consider that a death, more of a shock to the heart, damaging the soul and brain more than her flesh. Besides, that collar did what it''s supposed to... I can assume, I''ve seen something similar to this before, Phantos has shown me things like it.''


    "I don''t want to hear about your life story now, I''ve seen enough."


    ''Why don''t you just take a break?'' He spoke.


    "Ugh." A short sound that showed his distaste towards the idea.


    ''What? Pride too much to relax for a little while? This isn''t some kind of duty for you to complete in some crazy rush! You should know this, after everything we''ve done to get to this point¡ªnot even knowing how long it actually was.''


    "If you say it''s fine to take a break, then maybe I''ll listen to you just this once. I''m rather exhausted after all."


    As if a proud father... no. As if an older brother speaking to his younger brother, who always looked out for him, Vetro jumped in joy internally, literally.


    This was new for him. Zabulus of all people would listen to him?


    Then he recalled, maybe he shouldn''t be so happy. This was the same man who killed his child... though perhaps it was through some sort of bond that they created through sharing a soul that he began to care less about that.


    Zabulus knew of this fact; for those who are trapped within him are those who are trapped within his own consciousness as well¡ªyet not always are they connected, it''s a great influence as if someone speaks to them and reaches for them; that Zabulus was the same, and couldn''t hide his own thoughts or anything related.


    Few things that were truly separate.


    One, the ''line'' of events. That was only between him and whoever would be in control of the body. It was always blurry and resembled a void between the souls. It was more akin to the flow of consciousness, things that must happen at all times, and were mandatory to maintain. It had a balance to it, that the souls did by themselves.


    Two, the psyche and mind. Where one would remain while the body was active, where they would talk with one another. All the other souls are forced into the conscious state while the body is asleep, though they can be silent and not talk, he heard their every crooked, demented, insane, word.


    He knew how everyone''s mind and personality was. The life they lived. How they died. What their ambitions are, their morals. Their feelings towards others, his existence especially.


    They didn''t make it known. But he knew.


    He saw it coming. Saw him turn mad, go crazy and fall into the pit of hatred that would take him forever. He wished he could stop this from ever happening, to avoid any unnecessary pain for others¡ªbut perhaps that was wishful thinking.


    He saw what he did.


    One could see what they were capable of, for good and for bad.


    Part of that is what makes humans weak. What made them feel lost and betrayed by life. To lose all hope. What differentiates the insane from the sane?


    It all goes into the pool, and is thrown together¡ªpicked, chosen and split apart. Jaws pulled wide open. And the last nail in the coffin.


    And as weakness is a terrible thing for the body¡ªa terrible thing for a soldier, that regardless makes one human in their soul. And to be precise, the human weakness is vastly different from the animal weakness.


    For example, animals fight and feed each other to death. That is the way of the universe¡ªto sustain itself and its lifeforms. To be weak as an animal is to be normal, as death is only natural to the weaker party. Animals fight over the right to reproduce and expand and thrive. The ones who do the killing and devour each other usually become the strongest and the kings of the food chain¡ªan inevitable outcome that is what one would see as cruel and sadistic.


    For humanity, and for any race with souls, is that there will always be some form of struggle. A mental struggle. A mental development. Humans make their environments safer¡ªtheir rules. They are bound by law to become complicit in society and maintain the peaceful existence of a collective, they are the reasons that they are divided and hate those they are different.


    Humans can become weak physically, but can and will reproduce regardless. They have no needs that animals do. They are not primal, the only thing is their environment. As with those that are unkind and harshly disciplined and abused; they live and die and have children and give them a chance of a better life¡ªeven when it comes to family and history, humans are fundementally a para-social group. That the most a soul can hold or stand out to the rest are the ones with the strongest personalities or abilities.


    If one falls, the next one is already there waiting to replace them, and if it is deemed fit; may become superior or at the very least the same. For many are like insects on this world, and only a select few are the hunters, and the rest are the hunted.


    Some think to rise beyond those roles, some think that they can defy nature and create their own worlds.


    Which makes them no different from animals; as this world is cyclic, a great reset is always bound to happen once a threshold of energy is hit. The souls get scattered, or fade away. The animals die, but their remnants live. As with every piece of the world, a piece lives and the rest is rebuilt to serve as a foundation for the new.


    Everything is recycled, everything is one and the same and works together.


    Every now and again, it is known that all life that existed previously will still exist to come. Nothing ends, but nothing can last either, not like the dead souls are sentient anymore anyway. Not even the ones that exist for all eternity, for what would come, is bound to die again anyway.


    The answer lies in the center; where nothing truly matters. And once that center is attained, then maybe it would be like the rest.


    And that place will not last.


    ¡­


    With his back against a fence, he rested and laid the corpse next to him as if he was taking a nap.


    Taking a deep breath and relaxing, he looked at the bright sky.


    "This is annoying... How much is left for us, right now?"


    "..."


    "Selective hearing, Vetro?"


    "..."


    "Fucker..." Zabulus whispered and closed his ''eyes'' and focused.


    "Who were you talking to?" An unexpected voice woke up him, but he quickly identified it.


    He jumped up and looked to his right; where the supposed body lay.


    There, sitting up, staring at him.


    "First time seeing a nurse bleed out and come back to life, boyo?"


    Unexpectedly calm, Onofre sat back and yawned.


    "...It''s not my first time seeing a half dead person..."


    "Ah, I wasn''t half dead. I was just pretending to be. It''s the least I could do." There was an undertone of a threat within her tone, "I guess it worked then, hm?"


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Indeed, but to feign death like that? Why? Not as a trap, perhaps? A trap on me, but I could just run."


    "Ah yes. Yes, a trap, but not one where I am in control. Maybe you''ll learn soon enough." Onofre was sure she meant something deeper with her cryptic response.


    He had many ideas and conclusions on that.


    One... She was an undead that was born from her anger¡ªhis presence could''ve created it. Or that she was already there beyond his control.


    Two... She was another god, or a demon, an entity like him or someone who could be, that was taking control of his thoughts.


    Three, perhaps an illusion from within his consciousness or a fake.


    ''Young lamb, you aren''t so inclined to let this one go, aren''t ya?! Naaaahaaaa! I''d laugh if she actually kills you like that.'' That same decrepit voice spoke to him from behind Onofre.


    A hallucination? A real soul or soul fragment inside her? Was she the same person?!


    "Why do you look so on-guard, boyo? Something''s not sitting with you, perhaps?"


    He was having trouble deciding what the truth was before Onofre stood up, making him freeze in fear.


    "Hah! As if, I know a little bit about you... Not that I could tell you where from though!" She chuckled at herself for that small inside joke as she seemed to glance up for a second, seemingly in the direction of the skies. "Oh right, the moon. Yeah, I was just making it seem as if I didn''t see that."


    "...What are you talking about now? Moon?"


    "Yep! Shiny white light hanging around the sky, there''s thirteen moons around here. This moon right here is just one of many."


    "13?"


    "Exactly, 13."


    He was dumbfounded for a moment, blinking repeatedly with a scrunched-up expression, "That doesn''t make sense, how does that add up, or does it? 13 of what, exactly?"


    "Moons, of course. Thirteen Moons; The Moonlight that reflects the void in blue."


    She continued her nonsensical, poetic response, which further added to Zabulus'' confusion, "A person once saw it¡ªthe dull gaping mouth in the sky, a mouth with thirteen teeth, and thirteen moons, which the eyes saw. That, the pupils opened, and became white, becoming thirteen moons¡ªThe body disintegrated, all in thirteen seconds, that, the brain dissolved. With thirteen shards in the eye''s mouth. One iris and one sclera. Thus, thirteen. One hundred and thirty-three moons reflected in thirteen sands of an hourglass; There was a greater black, no end."


    "...And what came of that? Who told you about that, where were they?" He found a shred of interest within the words of mystery, the booklet that she spoke of was certainly odd, and not the result of a sane mind, that''s for certain, he thought to himself.


    "In my mind. Oh, but first off, to answer your question: A theory, though perhaps just a simple explanation that anyone on this planet could have, would be that it is one and the same, there is simply an alignment of multiple moons that show the reflection of each of these 13, or it could simply be that some may not even be seen by you here, perhaps behind an enormous body blocking them. Who knows, the answer can change. However, in reality, no one can get ahold of an accurate theory; the infinite possibilities are far too high and varied. That, only the gods may know. Unfortunately, the information was given to us in the form of a booklet; an enigmatic message from unknown seers."


    She stood up.


    "Whatever the case, it isn''t really necessary to know the exact answer, really. Only knowing enough is good, if there isn''t a true reason to be bothered by it." She cleaned off her clothes a little, although the fact of being dragged for hours on end did make the fabric and skin somewhat dirtied and dry. Her clothing consisted of everything white, as a nurse would have; from her head down to her shoes¡ªonly being a dark purple and light grey color palette.


    "Hmm..." As Zabulus thought to himself, what even was that hospital anyways?


    "Oh, and, before you ask, that place was no hospital. It''s actually my own little experimental clinic!"


    "Your own? How''d you manage to get access to all that tech and space?"


    "Huh? No... I mean! It was Kilgore''s, really! His estate, but that''s besides the point. I could tell you who Kilgore is, but where''s the fun in telling you directly?"


    "How about you tell me something in exchange for almost ending my life? If not, I''ll end yours." Zabulus was bold with his statement; which earned a mocking chuckle from Onofre.


    "Good thing is... It never would have worked."


    "Wha...-"


    "Listen." Leaning her back against the fence, she looked towards the distance, seeing what looked to be... Nothing? "You see, I know you are incapable of death."


    "Who are you to know that?! Are you... are you that damned corpse... is that why even after being blown up from the inside that- That you didn''t die?!" His guard fully rose in an instant.


    She brushed it off, not turning, as if the conversation was bland to her or she knew something about his question. She chose to reply as if there was nothing unusual.


    "Perhaps so, but no, I don''t know who you''re talking about. To be entirely honest, I am currently voiding my own mission, where I was required to bring you somewhere... But, you know, boyo. I just felt something with you. Like a mutual respect and bond?... Do you get it or is this a complete mess? Either way... Let''s call it an acquaintance''s relationship from here on. That we won''t be too harmful to each other."


    "...Then, who are you, really?"


    "A Parahuman."


    "A what, now?"


    "Means that... I''m a Parahuman, what else do you think I meant? Don''t tell me... you don''t know what a Parahuman is."


    "No... Why would I know?"


    "Hahhh..." She sighed and stretched a little bit, "There, there, boyo. Don''t feel bad that you don''t know what''s basic knowledge here, ''Parahuman'', in the loosest term and most general terms, would mean that I was born within the Library; created to serve the world. An oddity to your ears? What is a Librarian to do? Well, I''m in no position to explain it. but I''m sure you''ll know as well, soon enough."


    Taking in the scenery around them, the wind blew lightly, letting them bask in silence and peace for a few moments. The sound of grass flying over the plain area was the only source of sound at the moment.


    "So..." It was Zabulus who finally broke the quietness with his small whisper-like voice. "Do you actually have any way of getting to wherever I want?"


    "Huh? No, I''m not leaving this place, but I can show you around, if that''s fine?"


    "Hmph..."


    She suddenly stood up.


    "What?" She questioned him.


    She brought her arm to the air, stretching them above her head¡ªmaking a small cracking noise within the arm joints, it echoed faintly within the quietness of the area. She quickly did the same motion and pose for her other hand, this time with less noise, and went on with her act as if that had never happened. She continued the motions towards her arms, then to her shoulders, her torso and neck.


    It was as if he never responded, for his mind drifted elsewhere¡ªor his train of thought completely derailed into an unknown course, or was perhaps distracted by the minute, unconscious and foreign voices and screams that have always been stuck within his mind for the past eon, or day¡ªto his perception, that was yet to be clear, but he was aware that not much has passed in the span of a couple of seconds.


    Was it strange to hear so many voices within the void that his consciousness lingered in when he slept? Though those voices had always been in the back of his mind while he was awake; a constant disturbance within his thoughts.


    Then, she spoke, "What are you waiting for then? We still have a long way to walk. The kingdom''s only 734 Kilometers away! It should only be two days of straight running."


    His voice slightly faltered before he uttered, "Yeah, it''ll probably just take some hours if I''m moving fast enough."


    "You aren''t."


    "Then slow down a little, fucking dammit. Don''t rush me."


    "Would it kill ya to talk with me more?"


    "...The answer to that would have to be no, unfortunately. It is unfortunate to not have a mindless entity that has no thought or mind to understand me."


    "...Boyo, we''re gonna have a loooooong long talk. No silent treatments on this trip."


    "...Well fuck, it''s not as if I''ll be ignoring you for your amusement, I simply prefer to be in peace."


    "Haha! Did you, perhaps, call me a nuisance? This is no time for pouting. Besides, you haven''t tried interacting with me."


    Suddenly, as if fighting an urge, Zabulus put a hand up to his left eye, his long nail traced over the top eyelid; near the orbit. He had taken the time to look around him in search of something... perhaps he was lost in his own thought, perhaps it was to keep a lookout, who knows at this point. His movement and strange behavior wasn''t something unfamiliar or different in this short amount of time.


    "You okay? We just started walking, maybe you didn''t get to rest?"


    As she moved, her posture turned stiff, her feet were planted onto the ground¡ªlooking as if the ground was glue and the air around her was solid and cold metal; yet only momentarily, and at the next she would relax her entire body, making her movements akin to flowing water. For whatever reason.


    Zabulus fell to his knees, "Ah! Urghh..." A sharp stinging, itchy, painful, unpleasant feeling. The sharp and sudden influx of stimuli suddenly left his brain blank. His vision became blurry. His chest ached, it hurt¡ªburned. Everything in his body fought as his psyche told him to kill her.


    Why?


    Why did he fight back against it?


    It''s not like he had anything to gain by keeping her at his side.


    She was making him weaker.


    Yet... She seemed to help.


    She wasn''t trying to help. He knew, deep down, her intentions. But her words were genuine. While she did try to hurt him at first; her reasoning seemed to be unorthodox. She may have been genuine. Or maybe just another illusion his mind created... but even illusions can be truths, regardless of where the information was attained.


    "Ahhh... AAHHHHH!" And thus, the chains fell apart. Slowly, he''d surely rip them from the core to let his free will take over. But it wasn''t going to be such a quick process, it was only one chain out of thousands.


    He remembered; Guillerme, Idalia, Vetro... and, Alice.


    If only he could see her smiling face again... the girl who did everything in her power, her strength just for him, but why did he wish for such happiness? For such an evil mind as his...


    "Hey! Wake up! Hey!"


    Another voice emerged in the back of his head¡ªshe had already been at his side, tapping on the side of his face in an attempt to wake him. It felt as if he was sleeping.


    "Guh! huh? What... where am I?"


    "You''re right with me, don''t worry. Let''s take a seat and rest more before you have to walk further." She led him by the arm and guided him closer towards a tree, sitting him down. He then suddenly felt tired as the blood rushed down from his brain. He took a moment of rest.


    They sat facing the morning sun.


    "Are you feeling better, Boyo?" She asked.


    "Much so. The memories that linger have become stronger. Things I have ignored... I... I''ll speak about it later."


    She raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, "Something tells me... apple!"


    "...Yeah?"


    "So your name is ''Apples''?"


    "What? No. That''s... not my name. My name''s Zabulus."


    "Wait, it is?! Uuuuuuugh... never mind... sorry..."


    She dragged her voice throughout the long silence, Zabulus thought to himself¡ªher words may mean that maybe she already knew him for quite some time, just that he didn''t know her. After all, it wasn''t unthinkable to believe that she knew him. This wasn''t the first time anyway...


    As to which, was now known that they seemed to have a decent sense of commonality between each other. The sense of ''recognizing the self.'' One could only wonder what those were, for now¡ª


    It was unknown.


    However, that also may be just an ill-conceived thought.


    He let his ''eyes'' rest a little as he felt Onofre''s head fall on his shoulder, he quickly noticed how the sunlight on her pink hair had changed to a blue tint.


    With the small hint that gave him, the realization hit his mind; there was not a single shadow from the sunlight''s direction anywhere else. He looked down at his hands and noticed it was not only his¡ªas, the majority of his body, no matter the location, there were no shadows casted upon any part. He let the little streams of light come onto his vision. As if there was no atmosphere between the star and his eyes, nor air.


    It was truly odd, but maybe that was simply the nature of this place, he figured.


    Slowly... from the distance they''d look like two lovebirds falling asleep together under a tree.


    Slowly... his head also fell.

 Reality speaks, once more, it does, its voice resounds and grows.

    The fractures of their union spread; slowly, as ever, every broken and snapped spine, bone, tendon, and nerve connected and regenerated at such a small speed it felt as if hell had frozen over and every thread in time had stopped moving.


    ¡ª The First Anarchist


    A bird landed on his head, nesting in-between his horizontal horns as it chirped lightly.


    Soon, its friend also joined it as if they both had conspired and had mutually agreed to take a trip together.


    They cheeped and nuzzled over his horns, cuddling each other before letting the other know how hungry they were.


    What their logical selves told them was nothing; everything was safe...


    "It is time to eat this man, my beloved!" The two real loverbirds chirped to each other, hoping the other would see it their way.


    "But! That man... such a poor, hungry, cute soul..." His love replied. "He is a man of rest!" Dramatically, really. "And to disturb it is unforgivable, it would not be seen through the heavens'' good eyes and graces... to do so, it would be an attack on our trust!" He said proudly. "As you too would see it, my love!"


    "Oh~! You are correct! How did I not think of this, my beloved?" She shook her tiny head. "Let us eat it instead!"


    The male bird threw his wings open, as he answered his beloved, "This world''s is too big and harsh a world! And we cannot let it alone with a man of rest in it!"


    "Yes~... If it means it will suffer less."


    In perfect unison, they pecked into Zabulus'' back.


    ...


    Peck... Peck... Pe-


    "The FUCK ARE YOU BIRDS DOING?! Fucking crazy..."


    He stood up as he yelled.


    The two birds fled.


    "Ah! My love... we have failed in our mission to-"


    "We cannot accept defeat! We will have our revenge, and feed on that man!"


    Their angry screechings and rufflings of feathers echoed behind Zabulus.


    "...Bleagh, fucking demons, birds are. Annoying."


    Yaaaawn~, "That was a good rest, my head slightly hurts and my ears ache from your screaming, Boyo..." She chuckled to herself as she brought a hand to massage her cheekbone. "Tch... seems you ruined a sweet dream, y''know? There''s no way this is a simple coincidence or an instance of bad luck!"


    "Should''ve stayed still, or moved while still asleep... Now, we have to go... What''s this path?" He squinted his ''eyes''. "Does it really lead straight ahead to the end goal?"


    "Yeah! No curves, no splitting paths, no dangerous trees, no deathtraps... No anomalous incidents that can disrupt our path to the kingdom... no open portals that can lead us to completely different parts of the world that may or may not be infinitely far away... no erratic time fluctuations, or even extreme changes of temperature. This road is built just for a straight shot! We may get lost easily, but no! There will not be any obstacles besides the minor chance to bump into a passerby that could possibly guide us. Everything will be absolutely normal on this path!" Onofre crossed her arms, rubbing the palms of her hands over her own skin, for whatever reason. "It''s simply not natural for something like a peaceful journey like this, don''t you think? Or maybe I''m the one being odd and skeptical."


    "Whatever the fuck you''re saying doesn''t sit right with me, but I''ll go with it because I slept with you."


    ?!


    Onofre was surprised to see him speak such vulgar, sarcastic and crude language.


    "Y-y-you... bastard... boyo..." She snickered to herself. "Uh... you do know what that means, right? Slowing down? Slower pace?... Did you suddenly have a stroke or something when you got here that would affect your linguistic abilities as a whole or is it your age?"


    "Ha ha ha. So hilarious, you know that I am two thousand years old, right? And yes, it goes without saying that sleeping together means to rest with one another. What otherworldly kind of idiot do you think I would be?"


    "I know that, but¡ª"


    "Look, what is there to even worry about, isn''t it just more interesting to see a certain outcome or an unusual sequence of events that only ever existed in a fiction?" He wiped his hands off against one another. "Enough with the rambles. It''s clear you want me to tell you things as it is, and I do have my reasons as well. I''m willing to cooperate and see how far your honesty goes. At most, you can lose nothing, in fact, you already gave me your terms earlier. Let''s start here." He sighed, feeling that this was going to turn into another ordeal of back and forths and mind games¡ªthis time, in hopes that he would truly receive his answers... He has hope, but nothing more or less. It wasn''t necessary to raise his guard higher and focus his full attention on any subject pertaining his well-being.


    Onofre nodded her head, "Right. Before we continue, let me explain a bit. Do you see that part of the sky? That is a remnant of an eye of The Overseer; as his name was once known, Heron. Heron is no longer a true god, as is... just the fragment left." She explained. "His fragments are all over the world ever since his core body died. However... sometimes it''s said that those pieces that remain would live in the cores of the few people around. I... may have an idea who may possess it."


    "...What was he like before he passed, exactly?"


    "Ah. To summarize it, his story wasn''t always depressing¡ªsomewhere down his life, his sanity was brought down along to rock bottom as his species was murderized right in-front of his eyes by two men. Two brothers that both embodied an aspect that his people feared. For example, the fact that these individuals were always twins, whether fraternal, identical, or simply born at the same time¡ªdoes not matter, you must have understood the metaphorical weight and symbolism, no?"


    "Sure, but who were they, really?"


    "Bleh! Dunno!" Her face grew bright again as she shrugged in exaggeration. "Do not know... may have heard of it at least once in my entire life. A sad tale really..."


    "So...?"


    "Can''t tell ya! Hahaha! You''re so easy to mess with, boyo!"


    "Urrrggghhh... -hmmm... Okay, that aside... was it at least fun while he lived? Being with him...?"


    "Being with him? Oh, no no no no. Don''t be mistaken. I wasn''t alive when any of that happened!"


    "Then-"


    "Then, I know because I''m a Parahuman!" She winked and put her tongue out to the side for him.


    "...Can''t argue with you on that."


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Besides... it wasn''t only him. Those brothers weren''t born by two different parents; rather, a set of three parents, if you would call it that. They weren''t just born as ''twins'', but rather, triplets. The middle sibling simply became one of those things, that''s why the remaining twins did their deed. I think..."


    "Alot of uncertainty riding in your voice... but, sure. Whatever you say."


    "Are you okay with me calling you by name by the way?"


    "Pardon? Why wouldn''t I?"


    "Umm... like, you didn''t even hesitate or anything? A little surprising honestly."


    "Well... I had no reason to call you by name really, so. Guess the conversation at hand took my mind off of the usual first introductions. Though, I''m completely past doing that unless completely necessary, otherwise I''ll just kill whoever comes in front of me." He shrugged, giving her a straight face.


    "Even an innocent kid?" She jokingly said with a giggle.


    "Yea. No problem." He let the corners of his mouth slowly grow upwards to a slight curve, one would be mistaken to not notice the true, yet so faint glint that flashed right beside the tip of his eyes. "Hehe..."


    "Creeeeepyyy..." Onofre was already doing her best impression of a lowkey freaky grin with one finger scratching a nonexistent ''scary'' sound effect.


    "You think so, eh?"


    "Quite..."


    "Either that or you''re just so dang gullible to think that I''d kill a kid because of no other reason, you thought I''d be some sort of psychopathic, rampaging killer, but aren''t we all in the same? ...Well..."


    "What in the hell are you on about now?" She gave him a light slap on the shoulder.


    To him, Alice was a paradigm of what a companion should be, yet at times, she would not get his subtle humor nor metaphors. Sometimes, she''d even use his humor back at him, though it wasn''t without its humor. For example; a certain question was asked, and her reply would often relate back to the apple.


    Onofre was bordering a blurry line between too perfect of a friend to his liking¡ªand it left a heavy atmosphere where no matter what, Zabulus couldn''t quite understand whether he would hate or like her, whether or not she''s the one or some other made-up illusion to mock him. She was the physical image of Alice''s life essence, and yet¡ªthat isn''t enough, simply by design she couldn''t replace Alice. He''ll let it go, though¡ªEventually.


    "Alright, time to walk, Boyo." She already had her head slightly tilted up to gaze at him, watching him be deep in his thoughts again. Her arms stretched above her head, ready to trek the journey once more; and if need be, she would find somewhere to sleep in another couple days.


    With a grunt, he followed.


    On the way, he wasn''t thinking about the ridiculousness of how this kept happening; where he kept finding himself in forlorn and unfamiliar settings. Nor was it strange to feel a sudden onset of migraine attacks. Or his self-destructive nature that had a literal voice in the form of a pervading and annoying ''menace'' that called him a puppet. Not that it mattered; it felt as if everything has been, or was, predetermined. But who knew at this point?


    Rather, he was trying to figure out an explanation for the fragments and the moons, but never reached a conclusion for about 3 kilometers.


    ...731 Kilometers left.


    "Question... actually, questions, from you. Hmm... Yesterday. Are you still-..." Zabulus cleared his throat as he noticed Onofre give him a small stare. Her hair would bob up and down while her legs moved¡ªit looked as if she was ''dancing''.


    "Ask away. I''m guessing the other was an unfinished query."


    "I figured. And... yes, was."


    "The ''fearless'' almighty ''never stops! What may you ask your lord!?" She gave a childish, exaggerated tone as she spoke, causing him to let a ''tch'' from his teeth.


    "Be less edgy."


    "Spice is life!"


    "...Again, can I just ask... why did you come after me in the first place?"


    "Do you have short-term memory loss or something? If so, that sucks, but what was the last thing I told you I was sent to do?"


    "Oh... yeah. Ugh, why..."


    "On top of that! You seem so damn set on living for a bit longer. And on what basis? The logic that the apple made no sense? You don''t even look like you care whether you live, your movements and words are so inconsistent. You even ignored some of the stuff I''ve said, don''t ya realize... It''s kind of like, I dunno, you have more than yourself to think about, like..."


    He stood quiet as the sun glazed onto her neck. Her voice, her words¡ªevery and each action seemed to be intentionally aimed to have her have an overwhelmingly imposing role over him. It wouldn''t surprise him if she was secretly Vadim, or that wretched corpse.


    "Boyo. Listen, this might not be what you want, but let''s break that mindset of yours. Why do you continue on? Without meaning, living is... basically, wrong. Remember that and everything will make sense."


    "You don''t mean to say that living is..."


    "Yes. Not to sound preachy or anything, but you seem to be that person that has some purpose behind why they''re alive in the first place. The other times you had so-called friends, even if it wasn''t directly that which made you believe there was some goal to reach, you didn''t simply just try to live. Living is so meaningless and pathetic and it just leads you to nothing or more and more crap. Y''know?"


    "What are you saying, exactly?"


    "Huh? Nothing really, I''m just messing around with you! We have a lotta time to waste, c''mon Boyo! Tell me about yourself and that apple, but just in the normal manner without too much mystery. In a way that I can understand, yeah?"


    ...


    After another few kilometers, Zabulus spoke of half of his story across the void in blue to Onofre, who studied his every word and sentence as if it were some test of her will and humanity. He recalled the first words he ever learned how to speak. The first friend he ever met, Alice, he made on a shore. Though he left a major chunk of his memories on the faraway sands of time and lost light, the sand could only be retained by the cultists who thought him to be an object of worship by this point.


    "That''s kinda creepy, so what does it have to do with that ''apple''?"


    "It''s because I can''t die."


    "Right... but how do they correlate? There''s gotta be an invisible thread that connects ''em, no?"


    "Put it this way, it''s like I''ve lived two separate lives at two points in time. You''re looking at the one, but have no understanding of the other. However, there''s no going back. There are no strings to tug on to draw those two worlds closer. All is, and that can be... is just all that will exist, at least, from the perspective of the life that takes priority. The other just spectates and holds what is not able to exist here."


    She nodded. (She did not understand a single thing.)


    "...Sorry, it''s a lot to understand." He wiped sweat off his cheek. "You could see me change into someone else sooner or later, maybe. It depends on how long we walk together and how much I ''live''."


    "How... very confusing." She stared at the grass under her feet.


    "Yeah. It really is. Perhaps I could demonstrate it when we get to settle somewhere proper."


    "Sure~! By the way, I think we should focus on our... current predicament. Rather than worrying about who, or what, that was."


    "Predicament?"


    "...That."


    Looking ahead of him lay an extraordinarily massive stretch of living corpses. Hundreds of bodies were all huddled over themselves and had dug out the soil to form a tunnel leading towards the center. With how they were acting, it appeared as if they were forming one of those famous earthwork fortresses. They acted in such a disciplined manner as they picked up the bodies and earth and worked until they were nothing but meat pikes¡ªcovered entirely by soil. They resembled soldiers working on a construction sight, as the layer of the soil and dirt kept piling up higher and higher...


    In such an organized motion and on a seemingly mechanical cycle that the living and dead were alternated every ten meters, not a single drop of blood flowed from those who were still intact.


    One would assume they are mindlessly driven zombies who know not the concepts of order or fear of death, rather, their eyes were clear, human, and the blankness of their skin were merely a sign of natural aging. However, no matter how many corpses were piled, the tunnel never ceased from the ends¡ªneither would there ever be a blockage or the ceasing of the tunneling. It''s not as if this was the only stretch, no; similar tunnels were throughout the landscape for thousands of kilometers, intertwining with one another to the point that this section of the land became its own sea of black flesh and blood¡ªif a soldier stopped, his skin would tear itself apart and fall off into clumps of brown and yellow meat, the rest of the body would simply be gone to be replaced by another, who was also one of the people.


    It went like this, continuously and tirelessly; from one world... and into the next, that they endlessly created the spherical hell that encased an infinite loop between two, overlapping, infinite planes. The circle in itself could be observed in a mere few seconds, however, even that amount of time was unacceptable. Even if the two were to come into the middle point of the tunnel, to reach an end was something that neither the soldiers or the two who are there, are fated to see. The layers upon the layers of bodies and the construction could take hours upon hours for no progress.


    "What... is this." Zabulus was perturbed to such a level where he fell to the ground, not caring about whether the blue sky and its eternal flow was above him. "Where, did that come from?"


    "From the dead."


    "Why- What do you mean?"


    "Sinners from hell... I heard the world of hell and any world may create a connection and those that have been exiled may escape, even though Hell should never allow that to happen¡ªThose people were taken from Hell and return to the living plane... Well, really, they never really returned, since their psyche is stuck back in hell, just that their soul and body have returned. It is... an Impossible event, one that has just occured."

 Lordship Comes in Twofold

    The droll, mechanical sound of hundreds and thousands upon thousands of bodies echoing in the great pain filled his heart. It wasn''t the slightest amount of despair that hit him, but the mere thought of knowing that hell had chosen to go against its rules to take vengeance against something¡ªagainst someone, had his heart rattling with an indescribable amount of... sorrow? Sorrow, what sort of emotion is this?


    Zabulus felt betrayed by something.


    A part of him told him; ''Why couldn''t I be the one to be the source of chaos and anarchy within the universe itself?'', another part of him said, ''...What the fuck did I get myself into this time?''


    The tunnel held itself firm now; the movement that surged from the underground had an unexplainable strength to them. All in a collective motion, the two extremities of the tunnel became one.


    "A common infinity, where all these souls, all these places and these dimensions shall become one. Hell on the outside. Hell on the inside. Inside is Hell. Inside is not Hell. A M?bius Strip, just a simple turn and all is normal... Do not pry open that circle any longer, for only within will a great entity, greater than you are now, come to tear your spine from the head. It is the lord''s duty to keep even visitors from peering into the realm of a lesser hell¡ªno matter, one is not defined as being higher nor lesser, but each and all are their own." Her words were those of the epitome of a dull and unchanging book passage, her demeanor completely different from the playful and manic one she used on the previous conversation. The strut and tone she had held a slight air of anger to it.


    "...Great, we might have to detour around all that... then again, there doesn''t seem like anything we can do to escape this place in a timely fashion, can we?"


    "What the hell is this madness? Is this a common sight in your lands?" He brushed his palms over the black soil.


    "Common? No. But not uncommon. Well... it gets more common the farther you are away from the center, after all, we are within an Inner Void in Blue. I just told you not too long ago that things would get much worse beyond here, but only because the hospital was close."


    "Can we leave... here." He watched, in a combination of horror and amusement, of how one body moved past the other. It''s as if they weren''t trying to avoid any of their joints or muscle being destroyed.


    "Of course."


    "Will it really hurt me to find a way out, in your eyes, not mine?"


    "Wahaha, what in the name of fuck did you mean by that? Are you trying to sound cool or something?!"


    "I mean, you seem like the type that would do everything it takes for her objective... though it is strange that you would find it appropriate to give me any amount of explanation, considering I was your target, and all."


    "...Saklas...Sinner...Evil...God...Fell...Deprived...Causation...Oh, Great Etho, why must my noise and heart fall apart over a weak-willed God that knows not his worth nor his past and future? Almighty in the true world, His death shall bring hell''s sorrow." A voice from within the tunnel spoke as it walked somewhere on infinity.


    The man was long haired, naked and hairy. He was skinny as a pole and he only had a stubble for a beard. His body was all scarred; hell, his very being was only a matter of scars, scars and scars, where there would not be a patch of fresh, new, or healthy skin anywhere to be seen on him. His eyes were pale, hollowed-out and his mind was... empty, or, that''s what anyone else would see and hear from a mad man.


    "Who is that... That''s not... meant to happen..." Astonished, Onofre drew a gasp, but found her legs locked to the floor and she could not run away, no. She felt a need to ask that same, sordid question. "Who in the hell are you, exactly? One would recognize, you''re meant not to live anymore, not allowed to be out here. Tell me who the hell you are! How did you make it out of Hell itself?!"


    He turned his face ever slowly to stare at Onofre; His skin started peeling and his face''s skin turned rotten in a matter of a millisecond.


    "Alister... Sachiel... Anatiel..." The man took steps away from the mass to an infinite space as his foot landed clean on an empty bit of land.


    "Say it, you shit stain, tell me! I am Lord of- I am the Librarian Onofre! Listen to me or Babel''s fate shall bring you despair!" She said as a response of fear and aggression; an attempt to intimidate the madman.


    He looked her in the eyes, emotionless and un-determined. "Agoel... Ramuthel... One must search."


    "Spit it out, you foul devil! Sinner!"


    "...Sinner? You dare not compare me to that God of fools, I know my sins, for each one had brought an immortal body back to the world to kill, and to create Hell within. That goddess of hell; who so believed in her power to not allow one''s own true self to see the truth. Who''s self so dictated that one''s ego would suffer under the fellow man, in the name of their ego. Hell. Hell. Hell. Oh, why must no one see the way I do? To kill a god is to truly let oneself free, to be free, from the restrictions and their limits... Yes. That''s what the goddess, Hell herself, did. That is her greatest sin, that''s her greatest fear!" His mind snapped, causing him to wave his arms to the direction of the masses and his voice grew louder and louder until the last second of movement that the tunnel made. "All these sinners, all these evildoers; created out of my free will as god is my own imagination. Only I can see the greater picture. We all walk under a dying star, one that has not perished under the mighty Hell itself." A grasp on his chin could be perceived¡ªWhere would I fit into space? "Portraying your reality into your inner self''s physical world is one step. Getting back there? What a shame, and... as it guides you by your leg and arm... the mess is already fixed, yet it continues. And even then, for how long would the gap last? ...Does time even matter? It would matter not. Farewell."


    His words were of no threat; yet they went in from one ear and stood their ground.


    "Do not attract yourself to that foolish god Saklas, you both. I may not know who you are, you may not know who I am. But to portray me is to play the game of fools. I have no time for such thing."


    His last words rung across the tunnel as steady as the evening''s night, his body contorted as if to a bird, only the wingless and noiseless¡ªand then, not.


    "Oh. Hey." She stuttered and breathed, still trembling after the sudden arrival and departure of the figure, as she patted the short cloth behind her pants to feel a subtle bump¡ªit was small and no larger than a stick, yet she gave a sigh. "Fuckin'', Babel''s Divinity!¡ªHaaaah. Fuck you and the horse you rode on!"


    Zabulus laid his palm on his brow, feeling a slight ache in his right eye. Slowly, that palm moved to cover the right eye and block the sun''s gaze. "To not kill is to hold power. In any way."


    "Sorry? Did you say something? You''re doing that thing again¡ªHolding your eye... was the sight of hell''s fragment too much? Damn... This has not even been a quarter of it yet."


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    The tunnel continued to shift; the common infinity of corpses and blood had lessened into a thinner and thinner tube¡ªIt laid itself directly adjacent to their paths, having them stare deep into its stomach and throat, just to have the siren''s call entice them more to go deeper in the great dark that lay ahead.


    "...Hell has always existed. And always will exist. Whether a singularity or multiplying the hell unto itself." He stood up, walked close towards Onofre and lifted her arm off his shoulder¡ªSlowly and painfully. "Not once did I... ask... not once did you ever request to have a higher role within this god-damn place."


    He placed his palm atop her head. Her thoughts were of nothing but ''Why, is this person holding his eye, and he''s about to-...''.


    "I didn''t ever think a God would end up making me pity their wretched souls... I, myself, a mere mortal, who may not have lived very long nor as grand as yourself has witnessed countless lives to end within the world of hell... Tell me, which one am I." He crushed his thumb and index finger on her scalp. "Which of the two, would you ever take seriously?"


    ...


    "Boyo, hey, boyo! Don''t worry me like that again! That guy must''ve had some insane amounts of metaphysical power just now¡ªAnd you got it in your system probably, so, I''ll have to piggyback you through the tunnel. Is that alright? Good, let''s go already!"


    It had only been five seconds.


    Did he dream all of that?


    Likely.


    He looked at his hand, realizing the odd smell and sensation as blood leaked from it. The area in his palm and digits were completely disfigured and maimed, showing him a view of his bones and nerves. He laughed softly¡ªeven if I died to this, or, this happened, wouldn''t it make things easier and much less... meaningless?


    There''s something missing. He recalled, perhaps, the scent of the water.


    His head hurt just thinking about it; so he cast it aside and let himself be a fool for an easy dream.


    There was a certain regret in his mind; A belief that whatever he did before his death, was for naught, and the illusion, no.


    An impossibility that was the ''Water in blue''¡ªwith a hope he wished that that event never happened in the first place. It wasn''t his memory¡ªTo be precise¡ªIt was just another person who assimilated within his memory who happened to live out the final days in his world.


    "Yup¡ªJust you wait, and don''t complain; or I''ll pull you out to see that man again!" Her playful mood came back in full swing.


    A part of that event is missing; it didn''t happen as he saw it. Private, but both to be heard and be a witness.


    "Man, is it nice to not be alone, hahah! It sure beats being ''stuck'' with those coworkers back at Onkhivol."


    She spoke to an empty space surrounded by an infinite plane as Zabulus was carried on her back. She was not tired in the slightest; rather, there was simply no pressure or resistance on her body and that felt perfectly normal. Onofre continued her talk, and Zabulus focused his eyes on the gory, endless skies, unable to turn away from it.


    His emotions had been dashed apart and mended over again in a repeated pattern and for what, he did not know the answer. The pain of his memories had turned and twisted to the point where a dull knife''s cut felt sharper than a razor''s clean slice.


    Her feet became soaked into some mushy and heavy liquid, no doubt belonging to some other carcass, leaving a trail of crimson footsteps behind them. "Ugh! I''m going to have to... get a change of clothes soon... Can''t go out in town looking like a murderer, especially with that shit back there. I won''t be able to have peace and quiet even for just a day. Too damn busy... for someone like me."


    There was a chill upon his bones, even if they didn''t even exist at that moment¡ªZabulus sighed.


    His neck bobbed and the fingers were draped to either sides of her chest, itching to scratch something.


    "Wait. I want to walk with you. Put me down." He said, eyes droopy and tired, tone with a lack of motivation or desire in the slightest, just... indifferent.


    She was unconvinced and only seemed to focus on walking, her pace fastened for a few moments, and she loosened it once Zabulus appeared to fall back into a comatose state.


    "What, was it really just a random jumble of words? Boyo, you sure have a big imagination. Maybe a little bit too much, ha!"


    He was fast asleep. Yet again. Yet... again!


    This guy keeps falling asleep!


    ...


    As she walked on the fleshy bridge that crosses all of hell, above her; as if a dolphin jumping out of the waves to fall, was a large-scale half humanoid creature. Screeching like the souls of a thousand sinners in unison, it landed back into the sea of gore with a great splash.


    Onofre coughed out the water and fluid that got into her mouth, almost regurgitating.


    "Legion... So you do exist after all." She pondered. "You were not even here a couple years ago when I visited this place."


    Another jump and dive into the meatpiles and it shrieked once again, its voice just barely piercing the tunnel, as her ears would not let it echo throughout, they would not¡ªYes, that is true!


    ...Anyways.


    Every layer of hell made itself apparent within these tunnels, despite being a fragment.


    A man who destroys himself through touch.


    A man who destroys himself after choosing his own fate.


    A man who destroys himself after becoming god.


    A man who destroys himself through consumption.


    A man who destroyed hell, destroying himself in the process.


    A man who destroys himself forever onwards.


    A man who destroys himself through tricking himself.


    A man who destroys himself upon entrance, every. Single. Time.


    A man who was already self destroyed in every sense.


    A man who will only see destruction no matter his choices.


    A man who cannot stay dead no matter the destruction of himself, repeatedly.


    A man who looks for a reason to keep himself alive.


    A man who destroys himself by becoming someone else.


    The visions of hell came closer, and closer as each minute passed for an eternity.


    ''If he was awake to see this... what would his face show? No doubt a pale and cold-hearted one.'' She shook her head, a smirk coming up her lips. ''If he didn''t come along, it would be fun to play with a lesser soul, but he was someone who decided he was ''one of the many''! And since he''s just so perfect, doesn''t that make him imperfect, in the least?''


    Arms reached out to Onofre, perhaps sinners that failed to escape the common infinity of hell, but their grasp failed to reach the heels of her shoes. She did not move forward nor backward; instead, she simply stared back at all those whose arms are, or have broken at the elbows from reaching. She blinked at them all.


    "Shoot, are ya guys really that starved? Ehhhh... Hmmmm..." She took a glance towards the hands and arms of those that grasped and yanked with vigor. Their fingers had muscle degradation in their state, but their bony fingers could barely have the grip to strangle anyone alive. "Right! I''ll give ya somethin'' for now! I''m not a person who''d give much thought on ya guys, especially the likes of you¡ªWelp. Here goes."


    A subtle surge of energy circulated through Onofre and out, reaching a hand out to the souls who yearned and struggled to grasp life, as if the sheer effort of the actions would give them a reason for a need of food.


    Energy flowed out from her fingers as it invigorated and re-filled the sinners arms with muscle and tendon¡ªVeins began to pop out of the hands and they were well and lively and the muscles flexed and were active, moving at the joints as well, as it pulsed in and out. Their hunger had disappeared, seemingly sated with a piece of a limb given and lost for their sanity. The biceps twitched, a faint spasm was visible and angered.


    "Shoulda done this long ago¡ªNo! these are sinners, what am I thinkin''? Ahahaha! How stupid!" She shook her head, fully aware how ''strange'' that act had been.


    Her hair wavered as the sound and the air became denser, the invisible particles and the aura, all swirling together to become the perfect cocktail of chaotic energies.


    "Still, who is Saklas, and that man from earlier...?"


    Her pondering began as she walked slowly towards the exit of the tunnel¡ªZabulus on her back and sleeping, again!

 Grasping at friendships can result in good too!

    Beyond the path where time and reality seem to halt, or to bend in together to create a distorted picture for those who haven''t had enough of its embrace was a golden shine. Golden, or was it simply sun-glistened sand, or perhaps a pool of metallic red with a hint of purple¡ªThough the word of metallic red may give the image of a color akin to a rusty tool, or maybe even dried and chunky paint... The way it laid a surreal and almost impossible tint could tell one that such a thing could not be an art in the most mundane of definitions.


    It would be described that such a substance was more akin to that of an artificial type; synthetic... and after a while, you would feel as if something about such a ''thing'' seemed a little too unnatural.


    That''s sort of the same impression the purple was, to that very image¡ªOf a sticky, clear substance with no shape, but with such a disgusting quality to the color and a terrible aftertaste to follow when inhaled in that said substance. It was far too natural to have been ''born'', or else you would believe its existence as something truly unidentifiable.


    One would consider something so deceptively simplistic, an anomaly, if not in the most normal of cases.


    ...Or, perhaps, one is simply projecting.


    Maybe this ''simple and seemingly odd concept'' is one that one could take back to a deeper level and create something out of it; create something where even the most obscure would take interest in it. Perhaps a crazed psychopath or a novelist who has spent over thirty hours, slaving and scraping through pages just to achieve one goal; One ambition.


    But not everything has a happy story, now does it?


    The intricate behaviour is how these things go, and the will of their power...


    Ahah. No, that isn''t right...


    The imagery will slowly shatter to a distorted image, not because your brain can''t handle its beautiful texture and colors, but it simply has its limits.


    Oh. Wait.


    My mistake. It doesn''t.


    But it does, because...


    Well.


    You were never a living thing.


    That''s what the common infinity is.


    Does that make the dead truly dead?


    Perhaps, and perhaps not.


    Your choice.


    Your desire.


    ...Your words and their intent.


    Yet they never were.


    ¡ª The second Anarchist


    "....''s....''s............''s.." A beautifully blurry noise managed to penetrate through the clutches and forces of nothing. The surroundings that were once blurry and incomprehensible slowly turned sharper and sharper as his ''vision'' came clearer by the second. "..."


    "Boyo? Hey, hey, hey-."


    Onofre''s voice was clearer, louder and not at all unpleasant in that regard. He still felt numb, but was able to make his head move by a millimeter and his ''eyes'' turn just a small fraction of a fractal degree towards the direction of Onofre''s gaze. There were several sensations in his hands; feeling the texture of some damp, rigid material with no real mass, while in a different part, he could not even tell whether he had hands to begin with.


    His ''vision'' would often feel as if he was hallucinating, as sometimes everything would be distorted in some manner, be it too dark and filled with muted noises from somewhere unknown, and sometimes it would have the texture be similar to that of an actual painting; beautiful in some abstract form. The way his body perceived things and acted was sometimes in an extreme of sorts.


    "Can you hear me, now? Boyo? Can. You. Hear. Me." Onofre''s words could be heard.


    Yes, he would respond, or maybe he did; either way, Onofre was there, just kneeling beside him and making him go a little bit insane, just through her presence.


    ''How nice... How... how much did I really sleep, again?'' He was still so sluggish, not even able to feel his neck to move in the first place. The pain he was feeling, no, not the physical one, but the kind that made his nerves feel like he was touching a live-wire, was ever present and growing in magnitude. ''Agh!''


    His emotions could not be contained with his vessel, and so they popped like small bubbles¡ªThe meaningless ones, the ones that could never come back, they vanished with no resistance and no concern for Zabulus. The kinds which the sensation is like to stand atop a glass platform in your worst fear; That you will never die and you will live through the nightmare.


    ''All, just, all of these emotions that come flooding through me... could someone else''s memories be making it that much harder to survive? Hah, why am I here again? That damned thing that brought me to that place... I''ll get my revenge on you...'' He declared to himself, to serve as a reminder as to what his thoughts and wills were at the moment.


    But his emotions were going haywire; the memory of that naked man from hell still resonates throughout his vessel.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Boy..."


    "Ah." His expression turned stale. "Uh..."


    "Open up your windows! For it has been so long since you woke up, hell... we''re only 24 kilometers away from the Kingdom, boyo!"


    And he wondered; how does she always know the exact measurements of everywhere they''ve been through? Is she counting the steps, or perhaps does she use something like a ruler, a measurement of some kind... What does that mean? That she actually owns a ruler that long, or that she could take her footsteps out and put the inches to the foot¡ªWas that her kind? Maybe? But no, he knew that all 2.54cm per 1 inch, but the actual scale for feet, how would it work out? He didn''t want to do all that mental math.


    "So... ready to finally get there and not look like a damn dead corpse?" She patted his shoulder with her delicate hands.


    "Yes... just, don''t say anything too much, just yet. Still feeling a little sick, a bit numb." He moved himself to the left, using both arms as he could make use of the rest of his body in the process. The sound of tiny shovels breaking apart mud was in the area.


    "Get off your butt already and stop talking!" She helped him up by lifting the arm towards her and putting herself underneath.


    "That hurts, and doesn''t feel any different..." He looked at Onofre from the corner of his ''eye'', and she only responded by rolling her eyes , then grinning from cheek-to-cheek and letting the corners of her lips curve upward. It''s something she''s been doing for quite a while, as well, it wasn''t some weird skill of hers to just naturally look cute on the spot, but she was never shy nor afraid to show off a sweet, confident smile.


    "Bah." Her eye rolls kept going with more attitude.


    "Uh." He continued.


    They walked onto a rocky path for a while, the smell was revolting and the environment itself was hot enough to the point where they were both sweating¡ªBut Onofre couldn''t care any less as she focused on just walking through the place. "Boyo, hey."


    "What is it?" He gazed at Onofre again.


    "Let''s be friends, shall we? Don''t need to talk right now, I got some fun news to share. Cool with you?" She stared into Zabulus eyes with the intensity of a million stars.


    "Uh, sure." He replied in an indifferent tone.


    Onofre wasn''t fazed by it, she simply gave her thoughts. "You''ll never truly know me; heck, this may be the first and only time we''ll meet. Do you think there are infinite worlds, each and every possibility with us in it? If so, then I can meet as many versions of you as I want, wouldn''t you say?"


    "Uh... yes?" He could never read her mind, no matter how much he tried. He knew nothing about the creature he had allied himself to. He looked at her like a fool, knowing he could have asked, but didn''t dare ask until now. ''Ally. Ally? Is that the right word, would that be the one closest?'' He laughed inwardly. ''She could''ve killed me at any time... Probably.''


    The light seeped into her pink hair like a drop of water in a bright pond. The appearance was closer to a luminous yellow, almost translucent in that it appeared nearly unrealistic and nothing of any material nature.


    Their walk continued in silence...


    As well as the continued thoughts on ''how strange and confusing the entire scene and conversation is to him''.


    Then she giggled, not giggling from embarrassment, nor laughter, just simply... a giggle. "I mean it¡ªI''ll show you a friend, a true one! I bet you were the kind who has never truly experienced one, ever."


    ''It''s strange,'' He mused to himself as the distance of the trip felt further and further away. He realized the look on her face as she spoke, and wondered. ''Am I making friends with a stranger, really? What happened to my old self? Wasn''t I¡ª''


    His train of thought was quickly interrupted.


    "We''re almost at the borders of the kingdom! Just a few more paces..." Her pace picked up a bit.


    A man carrying a sack filled with apples, one who looked like a beggar with old clothes on him but walked with pride, one whose thoughts were hidden. He noticed Zabulus from afar and smiled as he waved. Then Zabulus'' vision shifted downwards, the black aura spiking and invading.


    Black was his color, black was his destiny.


    What was that?


    Could nobody else see it?


    "Hey, uh..."


    "Onofre, it''s O-no-fre!" She corrected him as fast as she could.


    "Right, Onofre. What is that black... thing I''m seeing over there?" He pointed at the spiky aura that hovered over the beggar''s body.


    Onofre scratched the back of her head for a good three seconds, before simply opening her mouth and saying "Huh?", giving an extremely confused face to the one speaking.


    She continued on saying, "And, what exactly, do ya think ya mean by ''seeing'' the black thing? Where does this ''sight'' of yours happen to see, if not from an eye or such-like organs?"


    "...Nevermind. Do you know what it is, then, instead?" He questioned.


    Onofre sighed in a disappointed, yet exhausted voice as she shook her head slightly, "I don''t know what you''re talking about, that man is just a poor old lad without much going on his life, no family, barely any money and not much life left to see."


    Then Zabulus snapped his head towards Onofre, stopping dead in their tracks. "How did you know that?"


    "Boyo, don''t ya know better than to look at a stranger like that? They might think that you want to pick their pockets, hah! And... well, in truth, I suppose I should tell you something important..."


    Her gaze shifted back from the beggar, as he waved a final goodbye with his wrinkled palm.


    "I''m kind of... the queen around here? Been that way for a couple years already and... that''s how I knew, I wasn''t just a simple nurse with too many coincidences in my life, no; I was the head nurse who controlled everything when I had the time, so¡ªwell. No wonder I looked kind and humbled, right?" She joked as she pressed forward, closing the distance between her and Zabulus.


    She looked back at him again with a forced, nervous smile.


    "You seem conflicted on the decision to make, what do you think I''m going to do, kill you? I don''t care if you''re queen or not. Your hidden truths or lies won''t change the fact I''ll keep talking to you either way, I need your help after all, I figured. Should''ve expected as much from you, anyways." He said as he quickly began to regain some sort of emotion other than utter shock. "If I had my guess, I believe you will give a reasonable amount of trouble, is what you''re thinking? Well, no shit, but I would be glad to accept as long as I can achieve my own ends, I will accept my part as well, then."


    She seemed happy¡ªRelieved, more like it. Her shoulders lowered. She slowly stepped in a little closer towards him and...


    Embraced him.


    "Well, I guess you can''t give me anymore shit after a couple surprises, huh? Maybe... maybe I''ll bring ya some surprises tomorrow, but that won''t mean ya get to hang with me, unless ya don''t really mind uh... a bit of life-or-death combat."


    ''So... this is what friends would do to express their emotions? That doesn''t feel right...'' He shook the feeling out of him, remembering his former companions had been the ones who abandoned him. Though... that might as well have been his fault.


    He hugged her back, but not too hard or it could lead her to think he cared more than he actually did.


    "Ok! Okay!" Onofre was seemingly thrilled to pieces, nearly hopping.


    On the other hand, Zabulus felt... he didn''t know. A little angry, maybe. A little embarrassed. A little happy... all the parts within him experienced something different.


    "Come on." Onofre pulled Zabulus by the arm, and his emotion slowly settled. "Let''s take ya to the castle!"

 A Truth Can Always be Shrouded Under False Intent

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

 Do you want this? Then toss your guilt aside.

    The chattering and chirping of birds could be heard within the castle walls. The cacophony of peoples many voices whispering, laughing and singing. Their footsteps were filled with confidence as they trodded through the stone corridor flooring; Onofre would wave back at many strangers whenever she passed, and they all waved back with happy faces. They loved their queen, which wasn''t a secret, and while they''d still question her actions in a way, they would do the same if one of her subordinates had behaved like that, as they saw her as nothing special compared to her subordinates.


    To them, she was just another human; and perhaps that was a healthy and more real feeling to have than worship her without question¡ªeven though, at times, it could backfire, but as a result, Onofre became one with them.


    ''How far does their loyalty go, I wonder... perhaps enough to put themselves in danger.'' In the end; Zabulus didn''t have enough data, but as long as it worked out for them though, then whatever. ''Also, this queen...'' He glanced sideways for a moment, pondering silently. ''That look in her eyes is a bit odd. It''s a mix between guilt and sadness, I think. Do I say that? No... maybe...''


    Pondering a bit further, he decided it wasn''t a good idea to let her know that he could read her emotions.


    "What''re you thinking about?" A blunt question shot directly to her brain made the poor woman tense up a little bit before she answered, "I-It''s nothin'', just don''t mind."


    But why? It was obvious to her. Even the most minor details didn''t slip past Zabulus¡ªIt''s hard not to take note of what exactly the person in charge is thinking.


    ''She feels guilty for getting on my good side and tossing me to the wolves.'' Is the only conclusion he could come to; "Yes, sure, sure, and...?"


    "And what? What''re ya talkin'' ''bout, boyo?" Her face went back to the normal-ish calm look; as if that question never happened to begin with. "If ya''re scared... I can escort ya." She said.


    ''Great, now that I''m feeling the doubt creep up, her acting just has to make matters worse, huh?'' His thoughts kept coming, with the words running fast as light could be, "Well, it doesn''t look that scary..."


    "You dumbass, I''m escortin'' ya already! So shut it¡ªand that wasn''t supposed to be a compliment..." She began moving again.


    ''Huh...'' He thinks. ''As the day goes on, it starts to sound more like the first few days Guillerme spent with Alice, when he used to call her an idiot. Now, with that in mind, he did have a good reason for it¡ªconsidering the fact Alice herself didn''t hesitate to blow someone''s face off or chop them up with a rusty axe or... just straight up eat them. I wonder how long till her words match her actions?'' He then blurted out a thought, "Would you eat a person alive? Like Alice did?"


    Onofre, upon hearing it, choked on her spit and nearly swallowed her own tongue, making her eyes water while trying not to gag. "...The what now?!? I mean... yeah, maybe!¡ªDepends... Depends." Her reaction made him raise an eyebrow and ponder once more about why they''re even having this conversation. ''What the HELL is this guy trying to pull here?!'' Is all Onofre could muster after that ridiculous question popped out. ''Eating alive, come on, even I wouldn''t do THAT! Of course not, wouldn''t even hurt the soul unless the situation calls for it¡ªI dunno if it will at some point though.''


    As the two approached the end of the path, armored guards took notice, and made sure their weapons were proper, ready to defend the woman known as their queen.


    "WE SWEAR OUR LIVES TO PROTECT THEE, YOUR HIGHNESS! TO DEFEND THE LAND, AND OBEY THINE WORD!" The first row shouted proudly.


    "ALSO, YOUR MAJESTICAL COMMANDS!" The next one bellowed.


    He looks down to a particular knight who''s holding his lance and shield with an incredibly shaky hand. "Take up your position, boy! Fight like a man!!"


    "YOUR HIGHNESS, FORGIVE THIS JUNIOR OF MINE!! HE JUST CAME OUT OF TRAINING!! IT WAS A LOUSY FIVE-DAY PROGRAM WITH ONLY BEDMATHS AND COMBAT SKILLS!! YOU''D THINK HE COULD AT LEAST HOLD HIS DAMN SPEAR!!!!!!" The general bellowed again, stomping and grabbing the junior''s head from behind in his armored gauntlets.


    "Oh, General Pherens, Go easy on your junior. How would it look if he was half dead? It would look bad! It wouldn''t do his parents any justice and would put shame on his name... and my name, too. As queen, you must learn to show respect at ALL times. Even in war. For the last god damn time!!" An unexpected show of annoyance crossed her face when talking to this General Pherens...


    ''So that''s his name, huh? Wait... what is a Bedmath? Is that a term to refer to a person''s math-ability? Sounds too funny.''


    The armored guardsmen all looked at Zabulus with scorned looks as he passed through the crowd of heavily armored men; he just gave one nod of acknowledgement back to them, while at the same time noticing that the young knight had a frightened expression.


    ''Maybe they know about me already, most likely. Considering everyone just so happens to somehow know about me from the get-go. Unless you''re all connected by that strange telepathic power. And speaking of strange, the general who just called him out had some huge creature creep up on his face in broad daylight. It had the body of a scorpion or a turtle... shifting between both, the face of a hyena but no teeth showing¡ªand the legs of a spider, yet he seemed more inhuman than I thought. Regardless... it was as if he didn''t notice the presence; or any of them did. Weird stuff, huh?'' He thought about it further. But figured now was time to enter that huge tower that goes into the blue.


    After all, why does it have to be him who stares?


    "Let''s go." Onofre tells him quietly.


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    "Yeah." And so, that was all there was to be said about the tower, as neither of them really gave any response beyond those words.


    ''What the fuck?'' is what went through his mind as soon as they entered.


    "The Tower of Babel; one of many in this kingdom world. You know not of who Babel is, but I betcha will soon enough..." The words said made the situation slightly less tense. "This is my main control tower, Err... I won''t get into the details, because! Boyo! You''re just not ready to handle this, and, quite frankly... You shouldn''t have to anyway! Only me and the Librarians have the right to know. That''s why I must complete my mission and then tell you! No other choice. Yeah, and sorry about this being so sketchy n'' whatnot..." She ended her sentence in an unsure tone; wanting to explain more to her guest, but failing to find the proper way to do it.


    "Alright, and what''s the deal here?"


    "I''m going to need yer flesh."


    ''Alice?!'' He thought with a surge of nostalgia in his mind, ''Huh, guess all the similarities are coming together... at last. Something tells me that Onofre isn''t some crazy lady though...''


    "Are you ready for me yet, oh mortal? It seems your fate is finally set, for better or for worse!" Onofre spoke in a joking tone; the weight of what was happening didn''t match the tone her mouth created.


    The tower; bright white, literally every nook and cranny brimming with a single bright white color and lights¡ªa floor of tiles, and the sound of high pitched lasers and crystal particles flashing rapidly, as if space-time was broken¡ªthis entire tower existed outside of anything normal; it was outside of the physical limits of the world and simply couldn''t be explained.


    It stood so tall even from the centre, that even when Zabulus ''looked'' up, he saw the Blue. But for some reason; that Blue brought him fear.


    Everywhere was so blinding, the luminosity of each and every white surface burned and hurt his ''eyes'' so bad that a strong nausea came over his whole body¡ªas a burning smell entered his lungs; something burnt down within him, and blood filled his body, causing his intestines to expand like an anaconda eating prey whole, which was then crushed as his body grew 5 times as large within a mere second or two.


    "Boyo, you''re just not used to the amount of 4th dimensional data storage that this tower keeps¡ªevery bit of information stored in a millisecond of this tower is beyond infinite times anything your brain could comprehend, and it could destroy you without the proper protection against it..." The voice sounded distant to the extreme as everything got blurry, yet everything was brought back with a single heartbeat as Onofre cast some sort of energy onto his ''brain''.


    His balance was re-gained, and the whiplash felt less painful.


    "To see this place is one thing... but to be able to talk about what it looks like... I don''t know if a G- persons mind such as I would be able to understand these types of concepts easily... maybe?" He said.


    Ccccchhhh!¡ªAn automated gate with four doors opened for them to enter the main area.


    Everything else, everything he thought¡ªit just dissipated in a flash. His vision became clear, and every movement ceased. All sounds stopped as he ''saw'' a beautiful thing in front of him.


    There were three glowing white balls that flew all around a massive screen floating. Each one dancing with a purpose, each one happily singing a tune; some words or otherworldly languages, it was impossible to distinguish their meaning, but it all flowed so nicely with the atmosphere.


    One of them floated past his head and made a strange chipper squeal, its ''eyes'' held bright neon blue, another held red pixels and the last had green flashing.


    "These are Ylu, Ylur and Ylusev. In mind, at least. Their physical bodies are automatic guardians for a kaleidoscopic sort of thingamajig called the Primordial Soup, their existence provides balance to entire multiverses; would you believe that? These goofy balls of light can do things that even God would shudder in awe at! ... Or be mad, since they were supposedly created by accident after all. But, hey, who cares?"


    "A God''s... power?¡ª"


    "You... want to become the very thing that many believe to have created or governed over universes of existence? You''re crazy! Haha! ... Well... I''m only slightly crazy myself, though." Onofre teased her guest while smiling to the point of grinning ear-to-ear, clearly enjoying the reaction he''d gotten. She thought the shocked reaction was hilarious.


    But then suddenly, the red pixelated one grew big. It grew so big that the blue was covered with red.


    Pach-chick


    A chunk of Zabulus'' left thigh was missing; replaced instead with a thin, twisted, and heavily bleeding gash. The red grew happy with its actions and grew small once again; holding that piece of his thigh.


    There was no pain; there was no shock, he simply asked, "And... why? Am I dying now?"


    "Oh, please... They only eat whatever they want sometimes, but... you''re not shocked, or anything?" The words held concern as Onofre spoke them.


    He thought nothing of it though, instead answering her question, "This is hardly anything. But tell me... what was that for?" He said as he keeled forward into his knee while still looking upwards at the three orbs that supposedly held several multiverses together.


    "That was to provide ''proof'' to the library that I killed you! Heh, well, it''s basically forged and fake, because..." She walked towards him, placing a hand soon after on his missing thigh, a small yellow-ish light shone, as it grew brighter and the wound closed itself up; or rather, the chunks of flesh just regrew themselves and everything turned back to normal as though it was never even missing in the first place.


    "Well, in any case; that was an experiment I wanted to try, but I didn''t think they''d be the ones to go ahead and pull it. Maybe I should put the stopper back on the Triandicon and then find a replacement part, or maybe just leave it up until someone breaks their back... Anyway, so... don''t get the wrong idea about anything! Those little orbs o'' mine are absolutely harmless. Like cats that only snip you ever once in a great while."


    ''Would they?'' Zabulus thought. "Guessing they wouldn''t."


    "It would take at least a few minutes to finish, even at their peak power... They need their own ''charge time'', you see, before they could really take you down, but then again... It''s not needed. Just, let''s get out of this room."


    "I want to see more of this tower, though." Taking a bit of initiative; his words caused Onofre to stop before she left the room and look back in surprise.


    ''He... actually took interest in something?'' "Really? Well, alright then. Since you showed an interest, I could take ya to where the good stuff lies. To where the gods walk, or where they died¡ªthey''ve all seen better days, honestly, but I mean... all is good there. Ya want to see it? Even the old world?"


    ''The old world?'' He pondered. "Do you mean the past?"


    "Well... no... I''m not that powerful... but! This tower sure is! Something like that."


    With that, she motioned him out of the place.


    ...


    A few minutes later... after a dozen failed attempts to open some doors...


    "Welcome to the Kaleidoscope Room!"

 Thoughts can be lethal too, sometimes

    "See the different colors across? They are reflections. Each and every atom¡ªEvery quark, hell! Even every static particle that makes those quarks up is a different multiverse overlooked by the bodies of the Ylu-Triad... You see, for every Primordial Soup that exists, there is a separate Multiverse that is governed by it, and governed by a different set of Ylu-Triad, but these three that we have here are not their bodies, but their souls! In essence... The souls are playful guardians, and the bodies are mindless protectors! The mindless have the abilities and powers corresponding to each of the Devil Trinity. Their names are unknown to us; but we somewhat know where they come from." Her long dialogue hadn''t yet ended; but at the moment, neither Zabulus, nor Onofre really cared, since Zabulus was invested and craved the knowledge, Onofre simply got lost in the lecture herself.


    "But, it''s kind of scary." A particular observation got a bit of laughter out of Onofre. "Do they exist inside of the black thing?" Zabulus had no idea what to call ''that black thing'', but seeing all these colored dots across it¡ªmost were a shade of blue, sometimes with random colours nearby, and then past that... it was all black.


    "AH! Right, I suppose I should tell you..." She said.


    ''He really is clueless about the structure of the world, huh? I thought this was common knowledge, but then again... what was the big one again? Ahhh, the Theory of the Exception!'' She recalled the events from her days when she was a newborn Librarian. "So, the colored thing you see, the one which shines is our current Plane; let me explain this in excruciatingly long detail. Our world exists, in truth... at the intersection of two different realities and on a third level; known as the Void in Blue, I''m sure you''re familiar with that term?"


    He nodded in response.


    "That is but one level which cannot be classified under a single concept. It''s a mess to explain so¡ªlet''s leave that for later. Basically, there exist two Voids in Blue, an inner, and an outer. Now the outer is something else entirely; ungovernable even by the likes of Agel or Babel. You can go there if you ever find yourself willing to lose your soul¡ªactually, most never come back out when they wander into those unknown waters, and since they''re no use in becoming a proper librarian¡ªnot as if there are many options anyway." She laughed at her own joke.


    "The inner blue is where we are at the moment, we are situated in a limbo-like position, surrounded by these Blue Static Particles that are trying to attack our very soul, corrode it, and... turn us into an Amalgamate. Now! You may ask... why are we safe from these evil particles!? Excellent question, Boyo! It''s because of the scribes of this land, this entire land that just floats in the Inner Blue finds itself protected by them and their cool little powers, and relics or whatever they were called. Actually... I think it has to do with this old crone I killed... Actually! You don''t have to know that." Her expression turned serious. She tried her best to not mention it.


    "...Hm, okay, continue on, then." He replied with a surprised tone. ''So, the only thing keeping us safe from literal hell is people who apparently use these special ''Relics''... That''s reassuring, sure as shit.''


    "Alright then, now where was I...? Oh, right! So. This Inner Blue surrounds the entirety of this place called Felsunachreacht, and even deeper into it, there''s four layers to it that have their own seperate Libraries and Gods! Now... let me remember their names... mmmh... ahhhn.. mm..." Her serious face had turned to a confused one and now an amused smile while she made some funny poses while she pretended to struggle to think of anything. (She struggled though, actually)


    "I got it, I got it. So there is the Layer of Babel, The Layer of Babylon, Pandemonium and The Unholy! To speak of their power is unmeasurable. Well, basically equivalents of Babel himself... Not that I''ve met him or been in his presence before, I''m just a lowly Librarian placed in a tower to overlook this place. Though... I heard that sometimes they would kill entire worlds like they did with a universe long ago¡ªoh, and there was a couple hundred a thousand years ago that ended up getting this place the nickname. ''Empty Heaven'', not sure what that''s about, though. Anywho! Under our¡ªBabel''s Layer, there exist these spheres called Conglomerates! Imagine them as... different dimensions with different laws of physics, but not dimensionally as in 3rd or 4th! Keep that in mind!" Her lecture turned super long, and it was going to end badly for Zabulus in a way that seemed, while, surprising, it seemed fitting.


    ''I dunno if I wanna keep listening, and if that''s all true, I''m starting to regret being here... No, what am I thinking!? This is vital information to find my way back home.'' He tried his hardest to stay focused and not pass out from the lectures that Onofre had done so far.


    "And then... under each conglomerate... Is a Reality Line, which, well, is in the name! It houses an infinite amount of realities from the beginning of time till this very moment¡ªBut Reality Lines are a common infinity, they were all created as different possibilities in the world that could have started, and simply just kept on looping at a speed and capacity which you will NEVER comprehend or could never be able to process mentally! Onto the next part... the Realities themselves! They are basically your big sister, the ''reality-folds'' where things usually happen, except, not necessarily in the same way. Everything there is kind of a haze, the world itself becomes sort of a vague shadow when looking at it from the eyes of an outsider. Now, what I mean is... Every ''major'' event or something that can change the history of the Reality, creates a new alternate reality with the exact same souls to follow through and see the alternate timeline that had just been made. Example being: Country A and Country B make a peace treaty, but suddenly, tension rises... that''s the moment a new Reality is made, and then in one of them; or the next one, war occurs and destroys one or the other. Then there''s the one where the tension de-escalates and everyone lives happily for years on. You followin'', Boyo!?"


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    Zabulus gives a soft nod as he rests on the floor.


    "Awesome, next part; Existences. They''re the little brothers of Realities, they follow the same concept but with minor events, but because of that, they''re not just a common infinity, but, more so... an ''Infinite Infinity''. You could never count them to a number higher than the number of ''Infinity plus the Infinity''... that would be how many ''Existences'' are around at any one moment."


    He scratched his head in confusion.


    "You understand, yes? By the way, they are always happening. In fact, so much is happening that even the Orchietomists aren''t enough to handle everything. Though There are only 5 of them... but I can''t tell about that yet~! It would ruin your perception and¡ªand other things as well¡ª!" She pouts like a child at her own shortcoming.


    "No, I think I understand."


    "Ah, excellent! See, so... past Existences are... Multiverses, which house universes, which house galaxy clusters, which house galaxies, which house solar systems, which house planets, and those planets are filled with their own ecosystems. Isn''t it all... so beautiful? The entire complexity of things makes you go all wild and tingly inside, am I right?" Onofre''s expression becomes much more of a nostalgic one. It has an air of joyful youth about it, as a person in their prime would hold.


    Zabulus asked her a simple, but potentially devastating, question, "Do... we really, in any capacity, actually belong to this land? If anything, you or I, have the capacity to be at the center of some form of new infinity, some form of... A New Timeline, something with the potential to become an Existence. Or so it seems... Do we really belong to a land like this one?"


    Her smile disappears as her eye pupils retract. The lecture has halted for but a single moment. The wind was carried out and the noises died down, and Zabulus knew this, for a single reason, the area was desolate to start, to begin with. But everything around felt so... artificial. That''s what Gods are about, after all.


    "R-regardless, boyo! We are in the Inner Blue! None of these things apply to us till we go to one of the layers, you got it?! These realities only become accessible through ardour... but even then! The rate at which they expand, and even when the Inner blue attempts to fight into Felsunachreacht, then I''m sure someone will deal with it! They always have! Ah... by the way... The color of the ''Hazze'' changes depending on what event is going down."


    "What?"


    "Ah- Sorry, I keep doing that! Hazze is just another word that we use for... Well, nevermind." She shut herself down for whatever reason, but the gears of his mind were still turning.


    ''Wouldn''t it make more sense if I was talking to some crazy woman instead of an actual informed person who knew of this world''s structure? This isn''t the first time I was lectured about the world after all... but, hmmmm. My mind has gone blank...'' His ''eyes'' wander down to his palm as he rubs the tip of his fingers in a circular motion. ''Maybe... this world has made me dazed, and the more I look... the more it tries to erase the real memories from my mind. I can''t find why I''m here, I can''t find out who sent me, or even my mission. I just want to go home. Now that I think of it, would going into one of those multiverses that have already been conquered and razed by Amalgamates be a better idea? I... I need to become stronger to fight my way back at this point.'' His thoughts, his goals changed as he accepted the facts he was now seeing.


    There was a purpose to it, to the reason he''d wandered into the Inner Blue without knowing; or a reason he was suddenly there. Meeting Alice was too much of a coincidence for him; all of those who knew about this place, this world... this microcosm of another multiverse... were truly deadly to the mind. But the thought never passed in his mind that he regretted meeting her. Only but one, that decrepit woman that kept haunting his dreams.


    ''Thinking about it, wasn''t it that same woman in my dreams who mentioned ''that'' word...? What was the word? How is that even possible, if this world has so little faith in these deities, these gods?''


    "Aren''t the gods the reason for such an ''Emptiness'' and such a desolate land?" He asks with curiosity, not hate, not anger.


    "They were the reason at first, maybe. Now it''s not that¡ªBabel is-"


    ''Babel, it''s always Babel with her.'' He stopped listening as she spoke her usual non-explanations regarding the ''names'' of the deities. ''If I didn''t feel death, then what if I was simply killed by a god...'' Then... he recalled something.


    His first encounter with Vadim; that''s who that person who''d kissed him was. It was the same man that invaded his soul; humiliated his existence and showed him how weak he was and forced him into that hell.


    That''s why he shouldn''t kill a God; Vadim was most definitely the pinnacle of what a God could be.


    He was free.


    But it was far beyond him.


    His own ability wasn''t even worth enough for him to step out of Vadim''s ''Shadow''¡ªEven if he were to travel across the Layer of Babel to find whoever this Babel was, to overpower him and kill him, or perhaps even just this Agel she''d mentioned... could he stand a chance, by then? Could he...


    He''d still be insignificant compared to those types of people.


    But he could always dream.


    All these questions and concepts; a whole bunch of ''what if''s''.


    Yet, his answer lay in one single thing.


    To stop trying to justify it; to not justify or deny his weakness, the weakness that brought his inevitable death to many men.


    This would be his only method of becoming strong enough.


    To either die enough to harvest the congested mind, or to be self-aware to take everything as it came.


    The question would become, how much do you sacrifice and how little do you value to continue this way of living? How far are you willing to take it until you finally die of mental sickness or from not being aware that your surroundings are a result of your broken mind trying to fill in the emptiness of the abyss?


    It was a gamble, a very long one to see where it''d go; how much does his desire to live surpass his fear of dying? What would it bring out of his psyche to finally become... content. To not go mad or be controlled by it. To know, in fact, that everything around is the will of this lonely individual to finally break the endless loop of monotony.

 Some people cannot be understood no matter what, can they?

    After a few longer lectures about the world and its mechanisms, Onofre and Zabulus exited the room.


    ''No more... No more of this ever again!'' Zabulus'' head hurt just like a normal person''s would. Not because of Onofre''s weirdness, but more so because the sheer magnitude of knowledge he had learned would''ve caused anyone else''s mind to just... fall apart.


    It''s just because of the number of things that would not make sense. He could try and rationalise it¡ªperhaps; though, even for that it seemed more nonsensical.


    As a result, the conversation ended.


    They both had fallen silent until halfway through a white corridor that had many gates; she spoke again.


    "Spunk! You seem more lifelike than you used to be..." She looked back towards him. "Something changed, huh? Your head''s hanging low, yet your attitude''s gone sky high." She turned her face forwards as she smiled; satisfied.


    He lifted his head and looked forward at her with a smug expression and followed by words, "So... what if?"


    "We were done! Everything''s fine now."


    "About the false proof? I''d sure hope so. I''d be... How you say it... uh... Well..." He raised his eyebrows as he tried to put a finger on the feeling that was called ''Gratitude'', a feeling he''d never felt before. Thus he was unable to complete his sentence.


    "Are you maybe... Thankful? Or... aw shucks, Boyo! Yer making me blush!" Her expression never really changed, despite the words.


    "It was quite the generous thing you did... No, really..." He gave out an amused, soft sigh. "Though, you still keep avoiding giving out anything major to this conversation... but... it''s alright. I suppose, but please let me ask you: who, if not you, would willingly protect this place? I suppose there are... things. Others like you who wish for their own power, or whatever the excuse is¡ªbut from what I see, only you''ve been trying to help me out and answer my questions, and well... be ''nice'' to me; even though there were a number of instances that would prove otherwise, not gonna name ''em... This whole ''no thanks'' is the least I can do to give my thanks to your efforts."


    She laughs as she turns around to look at him; in that sudden instance, her clothing changed in a blink.


    A white trench coat, white shoes that tapped with every step; her outfit had transformed into that of a sort of... white detective that had that same neck tattoo on the uniform.


    It took a few moments for his eyes to catch up before he realised the sudden transformation.


    Her long, pink hair changed colour to a light-blue tone; much less wild, and a bit tamer in its texture, but, kept the same, unique features as her long fringes which were akin to rabbit ears¡ªwhile it is known that rabbit ears are supposed to resemble something like a 0 on it, Onofre''s appeared completely sideways as her face turned and looked right into Zabulus''s ''eyes''.


    She gave off a wave of energy with her hand; a singular finger stuck out like an individual asking ''Come closer!''


    As Zabulus stepped in, her movements came to a halt as she simply turned around. The pure white landscape changed colour once more with her movements, transforming the pure, and opalescent corridor to a war room of sorts.


    "You know, I got tired of walking there, so I decided we could just teleport like a certain god I know, not going to mention his name!" She put a finger on her nose as she grinned.


    ''You do realize that doing that after a few moments doesn''t really add up, no?'' He looked around, and there was nothing but a war room.


    There were strange and colourful things on the wall... Each wall respectively held Red, Green and Blue relics, and the 4th wall was purely just a screen that she was currently interacting with through some sort of energy usage. She flicked her fingers in front of the screen a couple of times, and many pictures of abominable fleshy creatures appeared to populate the space.


    "And, what does that mean?" he asked.


    "Remember when I told you that there can be these things... Amalgamates that attack people randomly!? Yeah, these guys! So, I''ve just been mentally alerted by a Scribe that there had been a breach somewhere, and this is my area to watch and track and all that."


    She zoomed out and saw an image of the ''Inner-blue'' and zoomed out a bit more, to a layer with a huge floating city and a singular library in its middle¡ªan extremely long rope connected to an extremely tall tower where the library was.


    ''There is a giant city in the middle of nowhere, floating in the air, and the only thing there''s a singular tower... Yeah, I don''t see the issue anymore... totally.''


    "But anyway¡ªSee? Just look at these creatures..." Zooming back into one of them; she showed an Amalgamate that had a fragmented skull that was exposed and revealed as part of the body, with black and green and yellow pus oozing out of every fracture as the skin peeled off, flapping with the wind as it began moving closer to what seemed like a cloud of... fireflies.


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    "An imperfect creation, these hideous things are essentially little demons. They eat anything; they like to feast on the physical. But worst of all? Their favorite meal is the soul. They do not allow for one''s soul to go to the afterlife; that''s why I despise the fact they get to stay in a mortal body." Her eyes illuminated as she did something that he could not understand; but then, she gave him a confused gaze for a few seconds before giving a sweet smile, turning towards the screen.


    He grabbed a hold of her shoulder with an unusually stern face and pulled her in close and took a big sigh, "If these... amalgamations were to appear, then we can fight them, yes? Yes!?" He put a bit of pressure as his grip on her shoulders began to clasp a bit tighter.


    She raised her hands up and began a defensive stance, "Yeah, it''s fine. They''re coming to this area, or at least¡ªwhatever had set them loose and unleashed them here, and wherever that was, well! Let''s not think too hard on that~"


    "No matter, we have to go fight them!"


    "Wh- Hey! Why are you so eager to kill a few Amalgamates? I''ll have you know that these creatures are like gods¡ª"


    "And how am I so eager, you say? My powers¡ªare¡ªgrowing! I crave to fight, don''t you know what I am!? It''s ingrained within me to murder those below me!" He exclaimed with a serious tone.


    ''Ah... I almost forgot who this was...'' Onofre put a palm to her forehead and made a face that could be understood as ''What have I gotten myself into...''


    "Look. This doesn''t even compare to my level of power, don''t you think you''re exaggerating a tiny bit?" She said, trying to get her point across.


    ''Maybe.'' He shook his head. ''But this is... different, I must kill. Kill. KILL!'' A twisted smile began to grow on his face the more he thought about what his ''Drives'' were.


    ''Ahhh! What have I done... Well, I suppose it won''t be too bad to see how he fights... and it would also deal with the Amalgamate problem for a while! Good, good!!'' She had a sort of wry smile upon thinking about the current situation.


    "If there is the smallest possibility that you could¡ªThen I demand we go right this instant!" His speech had become even more broken and barely even understandable from this point on, "Fight me, O Amalgamations!!! Show me the true purpose and desire of killing for one''s life, you degenerates!"


    She grabbed him by the wrist as a wave of blue surrounded both of them.


    And then...


    The scenery changed after the blue disappeared.


    "When an individual dies in the Inner Blue, they either get sucked up by the Void itself, or become feasts for the Amalgamates, you don''t want either case to happen, alright? Don''t go dying, Boyo! This fight isn''t going to be easy. Ah... I forgot the proper noun for this, hmm..." She placed her finger on her chin as she gave off an absent-minded expression as if her thoughts were somewhere completely different.


    "How do I explain this, then..." Looking towards Zabulus who didn''t take his eyes off the horizon that was occupied with a rushing current of ''Ink''.


    In that instant, that same ''Ink'' seemed as if it would spill down a hill, they rushed, smelling the soul; not one... but the many souls within Zabulus.


    ''Ah... Lamb,'' that voice within him spoke, ''Found your nature now, haven''t you? I am in no need of you. Now go and let loose your true self¡ªYour nature; or as it was foretold.''


    Zabulus looked to his right and faced towards Onofre, who had her eyes completely fixated on the horizon as the wind picked up its pace. She mumbled, in an attempt to say a simple word with a complex meaning. She wanted to try to understand; as Zabulus thought: ''Understand me, O dear Queen! Make use of your authority and comprehend my struggle, you would see it fit, am I wrong?''


    She understood what he was saying; however, it wasn''t just them.


    "GENERAL PHERNES AT YOUR SERVICE, WHITE QUEEN!!! WE GOTTA FIGHT NOW!? COME ON! LET''S DO IT; I''M CERTAINLY PUMPED UP!!" Behind them was that same amount of Guards from in-front of the tower, except... The junior didn''t really fit their composition.


    She appeared much like a proper ruler now; leading in a battle for her army. Her position changed from a position as an ''Illusive'', and closer to the image of a leader; a commander who had her right foot in the air and was marching forward, holding a weird form of polearm; similar in form to the spear that humans usually fight with; and yet, at the end of her staff, a small scythe could be seen in the midst of all that; as a warning to her enemies that death is but one ''Rattle'' away from touching.


    Both ends ended with a scythe''s curved edge, with its curvature being that of a singular ''M'' and as it turned and cut through the air in her movement.


    "Well, good to see everyone''s here, then¡ªthis is definitely going to be an interesting turnout!"


    It was quite peculiar seeing her change, she had truly turned into a leader¡ªinto a general, a real general with their armies at the forefront, and ready to serve.


    Their destination wasn''t much of a journey away; soon enough they saw the monstrous tide in the distance as it approached their land. The ground could be felt trembling underneath as the mass drew near, a good kilometre ahead of where they had all been stationed.


    It was clear... this was what he wanted! His excitement had been at its apex, and if there is any way he could help, any way...!


    ''Come at me, you fucking degenerates! I''ve grown, can''t you see? I''m not the same man who dies the same way over and over¡ªthe same pathetic piece of shit as I was in the first place. No¡ªI am different! My abilities will be honed as I kill each and every single one of you!'' His mental speech roared across his soul; every single part of him hearing it, even Vetro who knew everything was affected by such a strong statement; not a statement, but more of an incantation, a promise; a proclamation.


    "HAHA! YOUNG MAN, LOOK AT HOW EXCITED YOU''RE LOOKING! THAT''S RIGHT, WE''RE GOING TO YET ANOTHER WAAAR!" Phernes hit him in the back as a way to say, ''Let''s fight this bitch and kick its fucking ass.''


    Slowly... the distant Ink approached, and the more he stared at it, the more its pace became slower and slower, or... the more his soul craved more bloodshed, the more it desired and prepared for a slaughter, a massacre, a... ''Rage'', the ink could feel and would often mistake for an aura¡ªan overwhelming flow of anger. It''s like one could tell it was looking back into you; could tell whether the person staring at the Ink was worthy of their consumption.


    They had arrived, right in the middle of an empty space where there was only solid ground and rubble. A perfect warground for Onofre and her warriors.


    Everyone readied their weapons for the upcoming battle; as she led the army, as every warrior roared, Zabulus roaring too as if he was one of them.

 Fleshy masses... Amalgamate your brains!

    ''Uhuhu... These things will not know how much stronger I''ve grown, can''t wait to fuck that ugly and horrifying face apart, UHE HE HA! Then rip open their guts and choke ''em with their own intestines!'' His inner voice roars of delight from within; this thought passed through his head more times than once; and by now, the flesh-bundle had finally approached their forces.


    These horrific and pungent fiends had invaded his ''vision''.


    He''d found his target.


    Head shaped as a mixture of four different heads. Each with a skull painted the same colour as the bone that had been ''Revealed'', with many teeth visible within. One was a skull that was tilted as a part of the monster''s face; a particular part of it would''ve been the centre of their facial expressions; though the part in question had been replaced by many unspoken words; and an ectoplasmic mess which did resemble saliva. The more he focused on that ''One Face''; the less he could make out what this thing was. Its body was fully equipped with sharp tentacle-like arms which moved erratically across its body as a means of defence from being assaulted from all sides, with a core surrounded by these protrusions; its lower half of its face had multiple pores oozing the same bluish substance that would resemble a sickening black blood that trailed across its chest in-between the chasms. The beast stood no taller than a normal-human, no more than three meters tall; but a grand and monstrosity to see nonetheless, a good ''true form'' to look at.


    They continued standing on-guard; then one of the flesh-mountains from behind moved its large and bulky feet and leaped forward, running and scattering its many tongues at once¡ªas their teeth grind and cut through the wind and threw their acidic spit across the field¡ªdestroying the rubble which was nothing but crumbles.


    "HAAAAH!" One of the warriors shot themselves with lightning speed into the horde before being utterly swallowed by the chaos.


    A sound of some sort of explosion from within there was heard.


    Both sides had now made their first moves.


    "Attack, Warriors! Do not fear! Do not cease fighting until there is nothing to harm the ones left of you!! Protect our people!!!" Onofre yelled a battle cry, signalling them to move out.


    Zabulus ran too, fighting that multi-headed thing that he''d claimed to kill from the very start. "Come here now, bastard! Let''s see how well you fair against my power!!" He started calling for it as the first ''Swarms'' of its tentacles struck through the many and split them like grass. "Come on, show me!! Show me!!!" His voice filled with utter blood lust as he ran at the incoming tentacle assault; leaping and dodging through every single one; it was as if he could see where their trajectories were going¡ªa very skilled dodge, but for an amateur like him it was merely his ''Soul''s Perception'', to put it simply.


    This feeling had never left his grasp. Not once in the two thousand years he''d lived.


    He grabbed hold one of its long and elastic tentacles as he tugged on it, then with his other two right hands he took hold of a firm grip and squeezed hard, resulting in its tearing, which then resulted in him being flung backwards by the rest of it. ''Tssh.''


    ''A bit weak... if my guess was right, they were stronger... perhaps I needed something like, hmm...''


    Zabulus thought for a second, then looked at the long sharp tentacle in his arms. ''Perfect.''


    A new weapon had just come forth and made itself available.


    "Death! Your destruction is imminent, creature!"


    In the meanwhile...


    Onofre who saw a glimpse of what happened to the fellow guard saw a colorful explosion from within the horde. "Good one! It''ll at least give the others time!"


    "Of course!!" That individual that had done such a move spoke through her mind as she used some sort of ability to communicate directly. She replied through her mind¡ªthen got interrupted as the area below her changed into a rippling effect. A few seconds pass and a squid-like creature begins growing as it flies upward towards Onofre''s direction; though she was ready, having predicted the sudden burst out of a singular squid-like creature from below. Somehow.


    It would''ve been easier to hit with that Scythe-Spear had its head been attached to the creature itself and not kept its current trajectory. She thought to herself that the positioning of the weapon in her hands was terrible to deal with the range, but it was something she would rather have. A battle wouldn''t go well if her subordinate had to take the time to react and know the creature was out; for instance¡ªnow, how fast and deadly would the warrior had been? She understood that in a battlefield, what mattered the most was reaction and speed, not necessarily strength or how big you could grow... she knew... better than most people what a problem like that could cause.


    A quick cut, then another, splicing it in half.


    Her reflexes had saved a few warriors behind her.


    "A-ah! Sorry, Ma''am!" The junior behind her caught a glance at what her general had done, and quickly apologized for the poor judgement made.


    "Dangerous... But the main priority is surviving, we don''t want to die, do we now?" She gave a quick smile then charged back towards the direction of the frontal line as the wave continued rushing towards them in this barren land.


    ...


    Zabulus charged back at the tentacled Amalgamate; though now he couldn''t muster up the strength to leap or dodge too often, as the tentacle he held was rather heavy.


    Using a bit of thinking; he deflected its attacks with its own little whip. The Amalgamate did not know how to respond or feel when faced with an enemy with the same exact weapon as it... in short, it had been countered in both movements and the weaponry that its adversary had.


    Heavily annoyed, it growled at him.


    ''Thrilled! Look how angry it is... if it wasn''t obvious, ha ha...'' The now clearly audible voice of Zabulus went out loud.


    He charged up the speed of his movement, to the best of his physical prowess; slashing the blade diagonally right onto the center of its hind. But because it had so many eyes behind the head too; it was able to deflect back the tentacle-whip... copying the same thing he did.


    Pssh...


    Blood spurts out of the wounded skin. ''Unnnfff. HAAAA, FUCK THAT''S GOOD~'' The look of his face was now satisfied with such results; the sheer smell that his soul could perceive made his thirst and desire burn higher, wanting more and more.


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    ''This is it! This is perfection!'' Is what he was thinking.


    Although his whip attack was deflected; it was what he was going for. He swung it in such a way that it''d wrap around any of the tentacles that''d attempt and counter it. He only had a hunch that the Amalgamate would not try to dodge; perhaps because it lacked the intelligence to do so.


    When the cut had finished, and the bleeding skin had come off, it shrieked in pain. But without wasting time it charged right at Zabulus, intending to ram him head first into the chest and absorb him entirely.


    In response to the charge, his body tensed up in order to run alongside it and parry a blow to the abdomen; turning rightward at the right moment, bringing the sharp part of the tentacle fast upwards in the process and successfully gutting his opponent.


    Intestines, organs and all sorts of blood began pouring from the open hole; the suture that was a part of their internal organ structure and whatever was left of it¡ªthe fact the other tentacles had fallen, showed that he had hit a vital spot.


    ''SHIT! YEAH, JUST LIKE THAT HOLE! YOU''LL NOT DENY IT, NO NO.'' He mentally laughed.


    In order to avoid being showered in blood and other body liquids from the wound he ran and slid with his knees across the rubble as he whipped the tentacle around to assist the other one in propelling himself across the battlefield.


    The other one being none other than General Phernes.


    His expression was one of eerie pleasure as he was flung across the battlefield and directly hit an enemy¡ªwith a shockwave and explosion blowing off bits and pieces of a few other Amalgamates in the area; his body was covered in a deep blue aura that radiated out of his armor. And especially the fists that were filled with blue electricity.


    "HAHAHA! STAND READY AND KNEEL TO THE BREAKS OF TIME AS I THRASH AND BREAK THROUGH YOUR RIGID STRUCTURES AND ATOMIC CONSTRUCTS!" Phernes'' shouts reverberated through their cores as they stood at the very frontline; not caring whether a fellow or a foe was around the general to witness such an incredible fight. "SHOW ME YOUR STRENGTH! AMALGAMATES!"


    "Crazy motherfucker... I love it!!" Zabulus flew along the rubble with great speed, soon enough crashing through what used to be an Amalgamate, completely shattering its outer layer and not even going down. He didn''t stay or focus too hard, and rushed right on to get into combat with a ready foe.


    "HIIHHH~ HAAH!" This one was much taller and had the stature of a giant. Though this one lacked tentacles, a single arm was big enough to crush Zabulus. If it wasn''t the very obvious lack of mobility, his defense could easily become just a ''blanket''. "Shitty thing, you wanna crush me!? Eat me!? Then be faster than this fucking pace of yours! If I die and come back again and again, don''t think you''d ever get me! Hehehe! HAAA HA AAAAAAA!"


    Even when faced with an enemy big and massive, and threatening of immense force; he would stand straight with absolutely no hesitation.


    His unwavering love for death and the complete opposite¡ªloving being alive, it had been through that that Zabulus had ''adapted'' to fighting an opponent. The technique used now is just something that was picked up over the usurping of Aeneus.


    That is where all his combat knowledge was taken from¡ªno one''s memories or experiences had been acquired... except his.


    He tossed the tentacle aside and leaped with as much strength as he could muster up, the face that was situated in the chest of this humanoid Amalgamate had an expression that could only be described as ''clueless'', not one of confusion. They were completely deadpan, empty and ''Normal''¡ªuntil all four of his fists connected with it, causing the face to crumble into pieces as if it were papier-mach¨¦; blowing half the upper body into shambles, and sending Zabulus falling straight down.


    Phernes realized that while the attack itself should''ve been lethal, the Amalgamate only suffered mild damage as the face itself wasn''t the core.


    It was sent a few steps back as it attempted to regain balance, however...


    "I WON''T LET THAT HAPPEN!" He declared as he threw a fast out from afar; but his intention was not a punch or anything of the sort... but his flesh extended out of his knucles to form an elastic tentacle to grasp and pull him forward, being flung like a pendulum as he had made contact once more. "HAHAAAAA! YOU WISH! TO BE IN MY PRESENCE DURING WAR IS TO BE DENIED SUCH LUCK OR KARMA!! SHOULDN''T HAVE MOVED THAT SLOW!"


    A spark of red electricity emerged around his chest as his tentacles stretched and grew around his backside.


    He stuck to the face on the upper half of the Amalgamate.


    Three faces. Upper body, middle, and lower body.


    "MOVE ALREADY!!! TRY IT, FILTHY THING. I KNOW YOUR CAPABILITIES. GET READY, HERE COMES...!"


    His voice sounded much different, it seemed to resonate louder. "ONTO YOU... BASTARDS!!!"


    His electrified tentacles clasped around its entire body.


    In essence, what he was going to do was...


    Zap... Ztzzt...Zhhhhhhhssssh¡ªsh, tsssssh¡ªpshh...


    "ZABUSHI SPASMED! HA!" He declared the name of his newly self-invented technique¡ªa technique where he wraps his opponent in his electrified flesh tentacles... and zaps them afterwards! Genius!


    This special attack of his caused the Amalgamate''s central nervous system and whatever constituted their brains, to implode. Leaving it to fall... in great agony! Ouch!


    "HA-HAA-HA¡ªHA-A-AH! THANKS FOR THE GRAND WARM UP."


    His new technique ''Zabushi Spasm'' was only born because he thought of two things...


    First, was Zabulus'' usage of that bladed-tentacle-whip-thingy.


    Second, the fact that he could mix his own flesh with electricity too.


    It wasn''t often that he used the blue energy to shift his body; as it caused him great pain to do so.


    However!


    The thrill of the battle was simply way too great to resist!


    After all, in these thousands years that he''d never had a serious enemy, nor an equal or a rival to spar with or have a great battle with... he never wanted to lose a single battle, even against Onofre. (That''s why he''d never fought her in the past)


    Because the fights with the others were so simple; not at all challenging in any means, this only thrilled him due to the fact he couldn''t lose a fight... so he could fight until his death.


    His deep desires and his mental state had changed, but the excitement he felt was a constant.


    These feelings and ideas came from one man he knew... a man named Zabushi.


    The same man he named his new technique after.


    Onofre watched proudly as her general and Zabulus seemed to have a great battle. But in a similar situation, the Amalgamates were overwhelming some of her warriors.


    "Make sure to prioritize what we''re here for, killing these things. There''s no meaning to this battle if no one survives and remembers these deeds." She reminded those in a nearby squad that seemed to lose themselves in their combat.


    "YES, WHITE QUEEN!." They replied simultaneously.


    One squad with the junior behind her from earlier were clearing a group of the amalgamates.


    "Kill these motherfuckers!" One of them commanded, not by order of any official higher-up. But instead just on a whim¡ªleading the small battalion through.


    Ten of them against two amalgamates; not particularly huge, yet not exactly small.


    Their eyes lit up as an idea came to them... the strongest ones to fight were all in the front lines, and where was Onofre... you wouldn''t dare face her on the back, would you?


    So that only meant they were basically left to deal with the smallest groups, but that isn''t going to do anything for her pride or whatever ego she could possibly have. So they wanted to prove to the Queen that they were also worthy and not weak or pathetic.


    If their only objective was to kill and get out without anything bad happening; why should it matter how strong an individual is compared to someone else?


    Their position in this battle and where they fought did not matter.


    "CHAAAAARGE!" The shout echoed among the two members of the squad, the junior shyly looked at her senior member who had begun the rush to attack the closest Amalgamate that they spotted¡ªone who was twice their size and many times their weight in mass.


    One would assume that there were only two groups in this battle; The strongest, that consisted of Phernes, Zabulus and Onofre.


    And the weakest, that consisted of everyone else who had to fight in a group against even the smallest Amalgamate.


    But what was missed and didn''t include was that of those two groups, there was no middle point. Meaning that the best fighters had no one of that calibre to fight in the middle, and the worse the weaker, the weak, the incompetent... whoever fought in this war.


    Though as of this very moment... that would soon change.

 Ecstasy At The Summit of War

    Amalgamates. Fungal humanoids. Or perhaps are they fungi humans? The way one would put it depends on which comes first.


    The sentient Icons of Flesh which had been named such by many; they existed with no ultimate goal in mind.


    Only instinct and instinct alone drove their movement.


    Two Amalgamates of similar size and mass, arbitrarily taking place in a small squadron of soldiers belonging to Onofre''s ranks.


    In this instant¡ªthe junior wanted to overcome her lack of confidence; the way the others did it, she just wished to do it.


    "HIEEE~!" They shrieked as she raised her weapon high; a curved sword in the shape of an insect''s wings. She quickly swept low across the chest of the Amalgamate before her, but lost her balance after being pushed by another amalgamate off to the side.


    "Shit." The warrior beside her hissed, "Are you alright?!" He said as he moved in-front of her to defend her and finish off the attack she had begun.


    To all of their surprise, she was the one to take initiative out of all of them for the first time ever.


    Though there was no time to think or dwell on something like that as their enemy would not stop attacking.


    One swung their arm to try and hit them, and another bit a part of the group; no time to consider doing things in order. These Amalgamates only had a sense of unison in the fact that their minds had been nothing but empty shells. Sometimes so empty that it causes them to cannibalize one another.


    There is nothing much for an individual of their race to consider or wonder, only instinct and thoughtless reactions.


    Yet even now, within them. There is always some sort of uniqueness to them. Whether it be their appearance or behaviour.


    For instance... The Amalgamate that had been injured by the junior had an uncannily human-shaped head, one in the form of a skull, like all those creatures who possessed their species'' markings on the outside. Yet something about it was different.


    It was the never-ending change on its features. Or perhaps that''s how this one expressed its emotions of ecstasy or absolute thrill. It was experiencing bliss. The pure bliss of having to battle for its life; a battle for its own hunger and territory.


    It was this close to forming its own separate mind from the collective group and moving freely under its own guidance. That''s what this battle was for them... yet they did not know that themselves.


    They, who are the realest threat to not only humans; but also their own kin.


    Another warrior threw a punch at one of the Amalgamates; not a super effective move, but rather a means to show dominance and attack them head on. "Take this, you stupid thing!" He threw another, then another, a barrage of fistings at its face... but nothing happened.


    Not at first.


    Slowly.


    Pieces began crumbling off of its skin.


    It was the thinnest thing on an Amalgamate, compared to the rest of the thick and somewhat harder material its bones and muscles are made up of.


    Those little cracks formed along its jaw, showing the bone below.


    Pus oozes out as pieces of its skin stick to the warriors'' knuckles. He panicked a little, though not a lot, the panic did exist; only for a millisecond though. "HA!" He grabbed the Amalgamates throat with his bare hands and squeezed... squeezing until he reached the bone. It attempted to attack with its insect-like claws that protruded out of its chest cavity...


    But his armor simply negated all damage taken; there is no pain without any hits or slashes, in short he had no problems handling something so fragile when protected like himself. He ripped off its claw and stuck it right between its eyes, then tore a huge piece of its skin.


    "HAAAH!" Throwing it down on the ground, the floor underneath collapsed for a while until the rubble from below built up.


    That was one Amalgamate out of the two killed. Albeit... it was a minor Amalgamate.


    This still hadn''t changed the fact that they were the weakest and the strongest; neither of them fought anywhere in the middle and had nothing of the sort.


    Even now, this was all a one-sided battle, at the beginning the weakest would simply try to defend; or be defended by the strongest.


    In this short and intense instant... A squadron of weak individuals was slowly transforming due to the sight of these three strongest. This had awakened a drive from deep within their cores¡ªto make a difference and not die without leaving an impact.


    Those who would fail would become nothing but food, with no legacy besides that... that would not do, not at all.


    Without the permission or sign to do so, a group began following the junior who took initiative earlier; her actions seemed to have ignited their flame, and her flame was ignited by her own desire to be an equal...


    Meanwhile, Onofre was fending off two, three... or even twenty Amalgamates at once.


    "No end to their numbers, I see... Good! THAT IS HOPE! I WILL CUT AWAY ANYONE WHO STANDS BETWEEN ME AND THE OTHER ICONS. MY KIN WILL NEVER SUFFER ONCE AGAIN, NOT FOR THE NEXT THOUSAND YEARS!" She proclaimed to everyone who could have heard her.


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    ''Huh... General and Queen alike, I suppose. They seem to have quite the big mouth, if I were to put it that way...'' Zabulus thought to himself as he turned to the voice of Onofre after gutting yet another Amalgamate, using its own body against it. ''So many loud voices... Guh, whatever! This shit is amusing either way.'' His thoughts continued to go into the realms of selfishness, not thinking about how the fight had actually turned out in his favor.


    Although, with this newfound fighting prowess of his, it was quite the obvious victory.


    The landmass shook with ferocity as the battle grew increasingly intense; the best fighters were more or less completely uncontested and dominant in terms of strength, which would easily tell an outsider that this was a one-sided war.


    But there''s no reason why anyone wouldn''t participate, and that was what Zabulus had discovered. He glanced to his left and right and saw more and more Amalgamates coming from the horizon. It was simply a FEAST!


    They fought with ferociousness comparable to no other race, during day, during night. These creatures needed to find only one opening and they''d pounce at the opportunity of territory and food.


    A giant worm-like Amalgamate weaved through the rocky hillsides, not missing a single soul it ran past as it flung its own kin across as weapons.


    It may have been worm-like... but its face was an odd deformity. Three mouths on the lower half that could only form open and close in the pattern of an upside-down triangle. Two eyes, each side and then another six more spread across the sides of the creature, all at a regular spot where eyes would go. Its teeth were the most unique aspect that Zabulus could see; they were being used as wings, like that of some bugs or butterflies; whenever those mouth opened wide to let the worm glide and crash into someone... the teeth would spread out and help to push it further and faster, essentially.


    On the other hand, Phernes'' metallic fists covered themselves in a Blue-Red electrical energy. He looked at Zabulus as they both cleared the lesser threats as if telling him, ''We can handle this guy! Don''t worry!'' With a sly smile that could only belong to Phernes, or maybe Onofre.


    Seeing how Zabulus merely grunted to this; Phernes smashed through the nearest hillside, breaking down the layers of solid rock and pushing past all the boulders until he found that beast and faced it head on.


    "Ah-haaaaaa! NOW I SEE!!! THIS WAS THE REAL FIGHT I''D WAITED TWO DAYS FOR!!!" He was a man who couldn''t go more than a day without battle, it had only been two days since the last invasion of Amalgamates, though it was of a much lesser scale than this. His impatience really took over, which is understandable to say the least, for a General.


    With the punch being so strong, he hadn''t stopped his momentum, using it to add an extra boost, a heavy and crushing blow as he covered his legs in the Blue energy and broke his leggings apart in order to sprout three fleshy curved blades from his kneecaps and shins.


    He was now in an unstoppable charge.


    Zabulus had to improvise and follow through with his own.


    Grabbing one Amalgamates'' neck and dislocating it''s jaws and everything attached; then snapping it off. Aiming to use them as propellers just the same. Though they were considerably smaller, so it didn''t help too much...


    The way he turned them into propellers was simple enough; just harden your flesh to an extreme degree where they act like the wings on a jet.


    Something like that.


    Not to mention the way the shrapnels blew onto any Amalgamates nearby, leading to more collateral damage. It''s the power of improvisation!


    They crashed right into the worm creature that seemed to stand still and make no motions. The faces were probably unreadable as they seemed to just sit there...


    Ostensibly, this worm was most likely one of the mightiest among this warring bunch of Amalgamates.


    In this single instant, they hadn''t used anything in this war against one another that would affect anyone other than themselves.


    But this? This was the start.


    This would not only begin their rivalry in this battle of bloodshed, but it''d also become the core foundation of their relationship towards another.


    To them? These fights were like bonds forged in the heat of combat and the uncertainty of war.


    There was no meaning in explaining and understanding it, simply because of the lack of focus; but their interest was slowly shifting to one another instead.


    ''How has a small bastard such as he learned to take hold of an Amalgamates'' entire body?!'' Phernes internally said with the sound of confusion as Zabulus grappled the worm-like Amalgamate very quickly.


    "GUHH!" Zabulus exclaimed out loud and tossed the worm-Amalgamate upwards¡ªright above the ground. Then, propelling himself with his legs to try the same technique of simply using his outstretched fists with the momentum as a boost and forcing them right into its torso.


    But that didn''t go so well as it simply changed its trajectory with its tooth wings and avoided getting directly hit.


    This left an opportunity for the Amalgamate and allowed it to thrust its mouth parts outward like a leech or some sort, wrapping around his whole body and keeping him airborne; as he tried to kick his legs around.


    "What?!" His confusion was filled as it was impossible to let loose from something such as this, no matter how tough his skin was or how many tentacles could grow to escape, none could grow so quickly, he was shocked! Shocked!! SHOOCKKKED!!!


    Phernes'' mind raced as he pondered on how he was to get Zabulus out of this situation, as his (Zabushi Spasm) technique would only end up hurting Zabulus in the end, and losing forces against the enemy at their strongest is simply not something he would allow to happen; his mind kept repeating, ''FUCK!'', or variations thereof.


    "YOU! GET IN HERE AND RIP OFF MY OPPONENT''S WINGS." Phernes gave out the order to one of his nearby soldiers.


    The soldiers hesitated a little, as they were in a similar predicament to the other group; weak and barely able to take on minor Amalgamates that simply were not as developed as the strongest. Though what made them hesitate to take on this order...


    Well, to start, you would think someone as mighty and powerful as Zabulus and Phernes would not have to depend on these men to assist and help them. Which was mostly the reason for the confusion, as not one among the group wished to act and just risk the risk of causing unneeded losses.


    But, how could he refuse such an order in a vital situation of this level? He did not hesitate again nor wait for a second, running away was simply no longer an option now. He thought, ''Should I fear the greatest in the world who fights wars like the rest of us, and do they ever? In short, No.''


    As the man in question leaped with great speeds and haste to save his ally in need, Zabulus could be heard murmuring some words to himself as it held its grip on him.


    "I''ll kill you... You taint the body of a god? A goddamned god that went through thirteen hells and back?" Zabulus'' voices spoke and got louder and louder as his ''eyes'' scanned for the slightest opening.


    "Wh-"


    And within seconds... Phernes'' soldier fell straight down into the ground without a sound and dropped his weapon. It was as if gravity itself had given him a freefall, a plummet that his body experienced for only a split second as he reached the ground at breakneck speed.


    He twitched as his body gave up on his limbs and laid limp, a tiny gap along the collarbone began to widen.


    It was hard for anyone to see it with their naked eye in the middle of battle; and if someone would stop to ask and wonder what had happened... there would be no response from his end.


    To say the least...


    This was their first loss.

 Flesh Pigs

    What will happen when someone is saved, only for their savior to lose their life, and without knowing what had killed him in the first place? They will struggle for a moment or two, before they look upward, at their own outstretched hand. The one who had just been grasped and pulled forward by their ally who wished to rescue them.


    Yet only an empty grip lay on their shoulders, nothing but a voiding and fading grasp that could not bring them any sort of comfort, for there was no comfort in the field of battle; rather, it was the cold that got to them more and more.


    ...


    Phernes watched from a distance, "Just as he arrived... in less than a second...?! Hah~!??!" The realization took a second to come. A mere blink of an eye was all it took to miss his death and his fall.


    That was what it felt like.


    Zabulus watched, unamused at the powerlessness of these warriors of Onofre, and no longer wondering why he couldn''t handle this guy on his own. Not when his opponent used this strategy with its worm-like mouth and strange appendages.


    He was merely fighting what felt like a boulder or some sorts; albeit a fleshy boulder that continuously changes shape to attempt to absorb him and envelop his entire being. However, this also meant that he could do something similar.


    So he planned to pull out some maneuver that let his body essentially hollow itself out and become loose.


    The worm-like Amalgamate slowly started to bring its teeth back to their original position, and would soon be engulfing all of Zabulus'' body.


    ''This thing will chew me for sure, I''ve never been so unsure about this before...'' But how else would he survive if not for trial and error? It was life and death after all, and Phernes couldn''t help him unless this battle became something close to a draw where the enemy backs off for a time.


    Visions of a Blue invaded his mind, a body, two bodies. Two copies of the same body, one that was Black, one that was Blue.


    The Black body followed the shapes of the Blue body, as if it were a shadow; a caricature. Yet they still kept their differences, only that one existed in one dimension higher than the other.


    Except, the Blacks one possessed more mass compared to the average human of this world. Though this couldn''t even be considered exceptional as the Amalgamates were of kilotons of mass each.


    Nevertheless, it seemed the shadow had an aspect that prevented it from acting freely.


    What was it?


    ''Find it, Lamb.'' His minds'' voice spoke.


    Somewhere around the center mass of the brain... There was a link.


    It was colored blue, a somewhat darker color than the usual sky-blue that most associate with his element, though deep and almost murky-looking like a midnight sea.


    Except, it wasn''t enough; what was necessary was to manipulate it, to find a way that could allow him to shape his own body with the Blue.


    It felt like putting too much pressure onto the skin around the appendage or object that he would soon be grasping, whether it be your hand around your lover''s neck or the way you grip your weapon...


    Blue slime seeped around his midriff. Slowly and carefully, like the way he envisioned it.


    Although the slime was not there in reality, he felt it. A strange sensational and tingling feeling, however it did not get rid of the dread of uncertainty. He didn''t want to imagine what''d happen if something went wrong here, and having to act fast was not the answer.


    That shadow, the Black body, his own body. The metaphysical, the Blue body, his own intangible body.


    His core, his brain, the link between both bodies.


    Though he wasn''t finished yet, this was only the first step to turning his arms to the blue shade.


    He had now turned his entire chest into the Blue.


    There wasn''t much time left, as this all had occurred in the span of a second or two.


    His ''vision'' began to flicker off-and-on.


    It was either all different shades of blue and white, or completely pitch black.


    No in-between and no chance to look around or analyze the immediate vicinity, just what was in front of him was what could be. And what it was, was simple: A false apex predator. In the form of a worm, except... there were no teeth. As if a manufactured creature that simply existed in the physical world as a total threat, yet its metaphysical counterpart was simply just... this.


    A creature whose element and overall basis had been corrupted by black blotches. Lost to the Void in Blue''s own corruption, albeit he figured that this was a different Blue...


    The Blue of the world and the Blue of the devils were the two most compatible existences he had seen.


    Thus its Corruption spread across his metaphysical anatomy, freeing his arms from the restricting form of bones and muscles.


    As thus, a pair of soft and slimy arms came forth.


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    Now... just the legs. ''Almost¡ªdone!''


    Only a few moments left before he''d be inside its mouth completely, engulfed in its inescapable cavity.


    ...


    ''... FUCK!'' So much for freedom. Or just the chance to attain it once again. But he had to focus. If he did not, then the enemy would see right through his actions and try to counter whatever he would plan to do.


    When you lose strength or simply can''t find it, or even on the brink of giving up? You might as well persevere.


    After all this time had passed, he could not let it go away in a little worm''s gullet. Even if what he was experiencing was just temporary, his instincts didn''t allow him to go down without fighting...


    Reawakening his determination was what he did in order to win in this situation, no matter the means. But where was the motivation? Why had it vanished so suddenly?


    For a split moment, it looked down at its form.


    Eyes that could not be seen, yet one felt they were there. The eyes were looking right back, deep into the heart, the core. One that creates and controls it.


    One''s control over the element was limited by mental barriers. A form made up of complex tendons and muscles that form the human''s very anatomy.


    Despite their body''s tendency to adjust and the influence of those strange forces, a person''s mind needs to be steady and calm in order for the body to change or shape according to their desires.


    One last push, it was all or nothing for him now.


    Their heads were mere inches away from getting eaten up, all or none. This all or nothing battle made his core flare with ambition.


    ''I WILL NEVER CHOKE TO DEATH, I WILL NEVER BE CONSUMED, I WILL NEVER GET TRAPPED WITH NOTHING TO HOPE FOR. YOU FUCKING FLESH PIGS!'' With the words appearing in his mind, he finally grasped at that blue link.


    Clenching hard.


    The worm Amalgamate didn''t have time to notice, for it was too absorbed on the incoming Zabulus that was just about to get sucked and swallowed inside, until he reached out and yanked something.


    ShrERREEERREEEEK!


    It reared and shook its worm-like body with vigor as its tooth wings lost their balance and began spinning out of control.


    GuhgnghhhgrggGnGNnnnnG


    ''Arghk...'' What a horrible pain to be straddled into, but who could have thought that it''d taste its own poison now?


    A link, one that connected both of his bodies, he made both of them coexist in the same space; both physical and metaphysical at the exact same time that it confused the world itself into viewing that space as a potential flaw.


    Except it wasn''t exactly a ''flaw''; actually it was something he meant to exploit because he could control the nature of this illusory and semi-reality.


    Thus it was possible to split his body, as well as let it become as incomprehensible and as messy or illogical as possible.


    Breaking the laws of reality, his body spasmed out of existence for a moment. The metaphysical aspect of his body came forth instead; which burnt the worm''s mouth.


    Poof!


    Then the Blue-half which burned and started to melt the Amalgamate''s insides returned to its natural state, as did his normal body.


    As it went crashing down, Onofre shouted at Zabulus.


    "GET OUT OF THERE UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE, BOYO!" Her two scythed polearm was flying spinning towards the worm Amalgamate, flying past any other soldiers nearby. Aimed directly at its rapidly crashing down body.


    Zabulus'' fist came out of its mouth as he began running, although he was free from its grasp, the feeling was still icky on his body, serving as a reminder that ''he was almost done for.''


    Successfully landing on the ground, he continued his running, until some distance was reached.


    The polearm flew and tore through the worm as if it was made of paper. Spouting blood and shredding pieces of the hard-fleshy interior as its screams filled everyone''s ears.


    Except not really, as there was no such screams from its nonexistent mouth...


    Silence ruled over his consciousness, his comprehension had not yet been shattered. With nothing to prove, he couldn''t find even the slightest piece of evidence to prove the enemy was sentient; yet not without reason.


    On the edges of his thoughts, an instinct lay: That this was only what a God would deem as the perfect situation, and what a God-reality would become, given some time.


    ''Gods, Reveals, Axioms; truths that only exist due to misconceptions'' that was something this world failed to distinguish. Something that had been made apparent through these experiences that this soul had experienced.


    ¡­


    The junior warrior of the squad, who had been ordered to go back to safety had not followed her superiors and simply waited right behind the scene. She was fearful, too; yet, in contrast, her bold initiative allowed her to see some confidence in herself regardless.


    But...


    It was that.


    Seeing a comrades dead body drop limp in an instant as if it had no reason or purpose, she could clearly recall that her comrade may have suffered a mental breakdown over the fact that he might not be able to live another battle a few days ago.


    It made no sense to her at the beginning, he was always like this after all. Cowardly... a scaredy-cat... a vile loser, just like her. But when he saw his General call him out and basically force him into the field of battles, he responded and followed his duty after that.


    Without fail, and any doubts; every attack, each strike, and every swing seemed to get better and better.


    Only for him to show a small sign of hesitation and it proves fatal on the battlefield where your decision affects your life or even your death.


    Yet, she saw none of this. Everything made no sense to her! Why did he have to die here? For that... That man that came out of nowhere and invaded their ranks?


    ''It''s all his fault... That man should have just died!'' The idea that ''one''s own would have greater value'' by showing superiority to someone else meant that they would attempt to undermine them.


    Of course, how could anyone not see the fact that their squad was truly incompetent in the face of these horrifying war machines.


    In fact, the strongest were akin to warring dance machines, or powerful foes locked in a duel.


    But there was nothing important about that! Her friend had died due to them! For her, it was unforgivable... but what could she do? She was weak, useless. She can''t do anything against something of this caliber. Except, hate.


    Hate, hate and keep hating.


    Especially when those around her are dying due to their inability to handle what would normally be their jobs.


    ''What is happening... this... this isn''t normal!


    Nothing was making any sense. She knew the difference between them, but why was it this time that these flesh pigs were such an overwhelming force, that Phernes himself couldn''t deal with one of them head on?


    Because of the sheer difference. That she had misunderstood how impossible his job was, and this small squad he had, who only numbered a couple ten or so, to overwhelm a nation of armies.


    For her, it all returned to Zabulus, as soon as he appeared, he also caused his friend to go into the field of death.


    As soon as he appeared, the Amalgamates grew strong.


    As soon as he appeared...


    She felt hatred for the first time.

 The Continuously Falling Corpses of The Sundered

    It wasn''t something to ignore, rather something that was worth taking an extra moment or two for. The corpses of the common soldiers did nothing to change the fact that the blood on the ground is the same color as yours.


    ''Lamb. Those not fighting have a slight advantage in controlling their element. For that, even such small specks could break down barriers and tether their souls. But from how many of them have been taking their sweet time... It''s comparable to an ocean.'' The voice in his psyche explained something. Whether or not he understood the words it spoke, who knew. ''I''ll show you the colors of a red flower. Do you know the colors of a person? My Little Lamb, I''ll teach you well. One by one... each and every one by one... Each will realize how they could never take a life from such as you...''


    Each mortal life is a pebble, tossed into a lake to alter reality.


    Outdated means... To act and work against the current in the search for an equal footing.


    "Enough..." So said Zabulus to it, "Be silent!" A command it heeded.


    Unconscious and at its peak, to be held at this level is no easy feat for this old Soul.


    New light shined down upon it, and through its senses, only saw white. With which to see. Which to analyze, pick, and understand with finality.


    A new concept, something beyond just the unvoiced and unconceptualized thought processes.


    ...


    "Boyo! Don''t you see my weapon! Be awed by my power, moron!" Onofre exclaimed at Zabulus, and there was no response for a little while. "..."


    "If you stand there and don''t know how to be awed, I''m going to wring your neck, really!" She held out her hand as her weapon flew back into her grasp, she was beginning to get tired of battle, so she had no more need of something such as this. So she simply kept throwing her weapon around as if it were a boomerang instead, tearing and shredding apart whatever it hit, whether enemy or friend.


    She did not aim at either side, and the Amalgamates were not hesitant in attacking without any care for fellow kin.


    In just a few seconds, her weapon alone had cleared a third of the Amalgamates numbers, a show-off move.


    ''She really is on a different level...'' Zabulus'' thoughts were the most confused ones among the soldiers who had stayed alive thus far.


    Then the rest who had actually lived up to this point, who were a schism of emotions and thoughts such as, ''Why?'' or, ''How?'', or even something such as, ''What is this, and who is this guy?'' Couldn''t help but question Zabulus'' intentions and the origins of his existence.


    Yet, none of them held a true hatred as there was only one person who began the true schism of their wants and beliefs.


    After a handful of more dead Amalgamates, one of the warriors took notice of the horizon.


    "THE BARRIER HAD STOPPED COLLAPSING! THEY''VE STOPPED COMING!" Yes, what a joyous occasion! Amazingly so, however it brought with it no less trouble.


    Except this time, it was a much easier battle as Phernes joined in the mass genocide of whatever was left of the Amalgamates, punching and slamming everything around, throwing and pinning down whoever got close enough.


    If this was put in terms of a professional or simply a long-time fighter, it was easy to tell that Phernes was an intentionally flashy one. More in-depth and blunt about his moves being at least glorious-looking; striking out wide, parrying incoming blows and using his flesh and bones to attack even from his organs and open wounds.


    The smell was pungent, it was sickeningly sweet to the point where only a veteran-level of the immune system could avoid getting nauseous after taking in their breath after they swung their weapons. Although anyone at the rookie level was pretty much just vomiting as soon as they went anywhere near the remaining Amalgamates and the half-living boulders.


    ...


    The Junior was watching from a distance again, wondering if Zabulus would die here. He had to at least get an injury, a major one or a minor one... she knew nothing about what goes on over there as her scornful and two halves of an expression stared at him from afar from beyond her open helmet.


    That she was weak would have been the only reasonable thought, and exactly what she thought. Her mind was in disarray, too. To a certain extent.


    Her eyes, her hair, everything about her face showed in agony, stress, confusion, fear.


    Every which way she looked at it, felt horrible¡ªAnd completely nonsensical!


    It just wouldn''t ever make sense to her, she spent so much of her existence training and partaking in combat drills; just to be out-done by an entity that just came out of nowhere to take away her values?


    She smiled, but it didn''t reach her eyes. She tried to smile, yet it felt like a frown. Her lips tight, her gums, her teeth hurting as she tried to smile. It wasn''t a real smile. Rather a twisted thing that had appeared as what could be called an ''emotionally tired facial expression.'' Except the only real emotion here was disdain.


    ''Disdain''... That was the only truth that came out of her state of mind as it was.


    Regardless, It began. No longer could the people here give her something to care about, something to look forward to, and even take solace and find reason in the loss of life.


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    ''Grant me the serenity... White Queen...'' She prayed in her mind. ''Grant me the resolve, Babel... Oh God of Felsuna.''


    Her cheeks were wet, yet the fact was her tears had dried up ages ago, even then the dampness was as wet as it seemed.


    Too silent for words, a world that seemed both muted and covered in a myriad of noise.


    Yet the stillness was the most glaring feature of everything.


    ''God help me.''


    It was a common cry of normalcy, a simple wish; all one needed to have hope in this day-and-age, was the truth. They simply never asked for anything more or too complex in reasoning.


    The more people ask or search and scramble about, the further it will elude them. Simply because it has no desire to be seen.


    ...


    "HAHAHA! WHO KNEW YOU WERE THIS LOUD? SOMEONE SHOULD STUFF YOUR MOUTH WITH YOUR ASS AND SHUT YOU UP FOR GOOD!" Phernes shouted out to the remaining Amalgamates.


    There are only about four of them left, a simple and easy process really.


    Zabulus looked at one of them with an intense stare, as if studying the strange being of flesh and shadows; his concentration was in other places.


    Even then, the general watched on, yet without any sort of doubt, this person he had met wasn''t some run-of-the-mill lunatic. Whatever it was, the odd fellow was no mortal, and that made him feel a great sense of unease.


    To the degree of thinking, maybe it was best that he does not interfere with him too much.


    To let him have free rein with his battle impulse, wherever he obtained such a quality, and whoever gave it to him.


    Zabulus felt a pulse, or maybe even an urge to be more explicit with his violence and cruelty.


    He frothed at the mouth at the idea of an excruciating end.


    Death had long since taken so many, why not claim a few dozen?


    There was a concept called ''Opportunity''. It was a simple and well known thing, but often ends up undermined due to simplicity.


    If the chance is there, do it. Never second guess yourself, never be hesitant.


    Simple as.


    ''They died.'' was the phrase that appeared in his mind, along with the chant that came after that.


    "They will no longer live..." And thus in the next moment, he ran and displayed his full-on hunger for violence. It became self-defeating and hypocritical of his earlier thoughts.


    ''Be fast, be quick; don''t think.'' was what he attempted now.


    An Amalgamates head was torn off of its body as he ran past it and bit on it.


    One down.


    And each time he devoured his meal of flesh, he swallowed all of their blood, guts, and gore.


    One after another.


    Two more were crushed. Leaving the last one all alone, it cried and whimpered in an attempt to get forgiveness.


    Was it truly capable of these things, such feelings; except what was it crying about? Perhaps something more abstract like its suffering? Or maybe even fearing death?


    No, these things were incapable of such things. Beings who only understood carnage and instinct alone. Nothing more, nothing less.


    Never once thinking of evolving and becoming smarter.


    Because these things never thought, they knew nothing.


    Zabulus was a creature of primal instincts; he consumed and absorbed and understood; the primal instincts became a tangible substance known as ''intuition'', a sense of understanding within the mind and soul.


    By consuming such beings, which resonated with his own desires, he had his memories, the memories that linked with his old tendencies and even now.


    Within every single memory lies the concept of power and control, it was an unavoidable temptation to each and every one who sought after that primordial drive in desires of the flesh and mental, to be one who dictates what is right, what is wrong, what is good, and what is evil.


    And there was no need to suppress these thoughts.


    Instead, to utilize these memories for himself.


    For example, how would it know what true fear is, and how would he know what it was going through if it never had a semblance of a rational idea to connect its actions as well with its senses and understanding?


    He was not an idiot.


    In actuality, the situation was something that could have easily happened if one was too focused on the battlefield and never let a small speck of emotion toil for them. Or at least distract them.


    Whether this was somehow a natural occurrence or simply a fluke.


    To a certain extent. For a moment it looked and sounded like the Amalgamate had a voice of its own and began putting thoughts into words¡ªYet that was utterly impossible. An uncanny valley that had some form of logic.


    They were not alive, no matter how much they wanted, their existence would only be for a short few dozen moments.


    Whatever the case was, its life was about to end.


    Crawling, squirming, pulling out a small and narrow bone that was poking out of the ground, he threw it in its direction, lodging the bone into its body.


    Then he rushed towards it and grasped the sides of its body and used his fingers to push the bone further in, tearing its flesh apart and drilling the bone deep into its heart.


    And when he retracted his fingers, he punched both hands into its chest, grasping and pulling open the wound and widening the hole as its insides began showing.


    His arms fell on and went through the edges of the torn flesh. Until he could come into contact with that beating red organ, it was a powerful thing, you would think that no matter how hard your heart pumps, it won''t ever tear through the flesh and not even turn forcibly or accidentally... Yet there the holes were.


    Until he found an opening between all of the bloody ropes and sinews of both tattered flesh and undamaged and barely hanging onto their footholds between the muscles and skeletal structures.


    And then, his hands reached the bottom of the heart and grasped at both sides and it pumped one last time, until it ripped. The arteries and the veins were still connected; even if their hearts were torn out, the blood would still flow into their body regardless and the beating heart could be considered an after effect or the aftershock.


    With his hands covered in hot and slimy and gooey blood, even he could feel that viscous bodily fluid flowing into him and touching every aspect of his flesh and soul.


    Reveling in the death of their beings.


    The heartbeat it gave off, he could feel it within him. Even when it should have stopped, it didn''t.


    The blood still flowed... but how was that? His mind would recall similar notions. There was no doubt.


    Necrosis was kicking in, the flesh would degrade, and the organs would sag into each other until every single trace of any evidence of any being would turn lifeless. As much as a corpse would just naturally be.


    Life was a rather complex and impossible thing to really explain so there was no point to try and make sense out of nothing.


    All he had to do was breathe, to catch his breath after the grueling slaughter. His breathing pattern was even, almost as if... nothing had bothered him so. It was calming.


    Eating the remains, devouring the memories, absorbing and using the knowledge.


    Taking life, by taking everything.

 Those Forgotten Eyes Speak Truly so

    For Onofre and Phernes, Zabulus was different in a similar way. He was blessed just as they were, they were blessed by the gods. He was blessed by the world.


    That was the only difference between him and the Parahumans.


    Only he had a connection with the world, a string, if it could even be called that, since it was so distant from here.


    ''So that''s it. Your power is defined through that concept... That''s one of your colors, a different truth.'' The voice seemed satisfied, pleased, and amused. ''That''s just like you though. To be something else that no one truly understands.''


    Well, even if it could describe him any other way; he was exactly what he said.


    ...


    Phernes approached Onofre, by putting his hand on her shoulder, "Don''t stare for too long, you''ll get the same look in your eyes."


    She twitched. An unconscious and uncontrollable response that she had because it was such a jarring feeling, sudden touch wasn''t her forte, however, her pride and haughtiness always got the better of her, "Like your eyes, are you insane? I''m not insane, you should become my cauldron! Maybe then you''ll stop saying stupid things!" She responded, though not nearly as violently as any other person might, mostly because the enemy was dead, and because she knew the stench was something best avoided and a reaction like a violent kick or something of the sort might spur him to do something violent in response, the thought irritated her.


    A normal response as he chuckled, and in a grand attempt to irritate her further, said the next phrase, "It''s a shame we have that fool around then. He should''ve really just died back there."


    Onofre''s expression changed drastically, as if popping a bubble of her pride and inflating another one filled with annoyance; her face contorted, and the vein on her forehead began pulsing aggressively, and almost comically. Yet from his reaction, it wasn''t going to end quickly, something about laughing maniacally like a crazy lunatic wasn''t helping the mood.


    From her perspective, anyone would freak out.


    She attempted to keep her cool, "Shut up... why do you think you can say things like that?"


    ''What had gotten into him? Sure, he''s an asshole, but come on, he was never this much of an idiot!'' She had to refrain from screaming at him at that moment, because it was still considered a warzone even if the Amalgamates were dead. And in this place, he was considered of nearly equal rank to her.


    It wasn''t something to take lightly. As he was the very definition of ''power'', and he didn''t want that only physically, he wanted it mentally as well. All his respect for Onofre was simply a guise at this point, as his eyes held that look in them.


    That look of crude and voracious desire, a will of nature itself.


    Greed and Greed. The only way to describe him, these two were his most recognizable features, one could even define him through these traits; the lustful eyes, and the tooth-wearing smile.


    This madness, it was maddening. A complete and total contradiction that made no sense.


    ...


    Zabulus closed his ''eyes'', total darkness where he stood. Even to the point that he lost all senses, temporarily.


    Then a light, bright and flashy in every which way. ''It''s your moon, isn''t it?'' was the voice that instinctively intruded on his psyche.


    "Would you have this world end for the sake of that voice?" If you could picture that feeling of having a lump appear in your throat, Zabulus had it right now.


    He turned and opened his eyes to glare at the speaker. Only to come face-to-face with an unworldly being.


    "The idea of heaven, all things combined within a mass beyond your reach would become an abstraction... Everything would just be... An ''idea''. Yes, isn''t that an absolute hell for a being such as us? Knowing you will not live and die, but be consumed. BECAUSE you were meant to consume everything else. Does that idea torment you now? Seeing my eyes as yours? Would you simply stay silent and play the fool? No, even with a mien a lie begets itself, there is no truer reality than the things you yourself have chosen." Stranded and lonely, not broken or unhinged, but rather bored. Entirely white like a canvas, empty without a thing to draw or color on it, it continued to speak.


    "Isn''t that much? To desire something. To possess and crave and urge and hunger and want. Eroding the self. The very humanity of man, over time, would slip away. Isn''t that part of your ''desire'' as well? To see and experience all things?" Being the epitome of its own will, and the truth.


    Everything else could only wither away, and fall into nothing.


    "What else but... But living the life of a ''Human'' now?" Zabulus asked.


    "...That is a peculiar question. Seeing how you are already not anything at all. A rent, an invisible scar on the very fabric of your soul breathes, and struggles and you live through that. Even when you tear asunder such a presence. As if being whole was a dream, a very meaningless existence at best." It looked Zabulus directly in the ''eyes'', as it could take its gaze off of him.


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    "You want to live don''t you? Then do whatever the hell you want. For me... such a world isn''t interesting."


    "W-what do you mean? I can''t... I still can''t go without guidance in this world. You saw how I lost myself to their flesh! I..." He was reminded of Alice. "I don''t want to become like her." In a low and dejected voice, he uttered those words.


    "I suppose an entity does need to be shown an obvious and clear thing or else it will get itself killed. Well, before anything else. That world, the memories in that body. Didn''t they take precedence instead?" It sat down before him.


    No, wait. Maybe it just teleported, whatever the case it was. It was there. "And, your eyes. Am I right in guessing that the Moon is your ''desire'' too?"


    "Whatever for would I need a ''desire''!? There is no fucking point when everything goes well! I wish for that!" Suddenly it smiled, and then the smile faded.


    "The colors of a Red rose are not only what you see. One never gives such a superficial and misleading thought, and one can never understand and simply pass by, what beauty in the self can give. Do you think the rose was perforated, plucked till the last petal was torn; The Rose has some thorns, something far stronger than anyone can imagine, the Rose endures. The color of a rose is its most deadly feature." That was all it said to Zabulus, in his mind.


    "Such riddles and ambiguities; all that was asked was to help me, yet you will not deliver on that alone, will you? I don''t follow what you truly mean."


    "This should be enough. Why would a soul yearn for its eyes, without even fully comprehending what the mind does in true darkness? I must leave you to deal with this predicament, aren''t I now? Knowing the difference between good and evil, knowing the things between both... and what else isn''t that but the power of emotions. What makes us desire is nothing compared to that which we hate and reject and kill. Hatred is like a ''Red'', isn''t it? Desire and happiness is pure ''White''. Everything will be as one believes in, however... The Truth is what we aim and strive for."


    He found out one thing, that Zabulus'' own color was a total black. "You live and survive for that sake alone, because there is no ''true death'', it would be foolish of you to believe so. In the world your mother saw, she gave a great sacrifice in order to have your eyes replaced with that moon."


    "What are you talking about?"


    "Why do you think you were useful in the war? It''s called a theorem. Parabellum. A theorem of war and peace and all that is in between, even desire itself. Your ''eye'' is a fragment, no, something far more simple, a copy. If I can call such a thing such, maybe I cannot call something I have no connection to any better or any lesser in terms of worth. An ability is not something so weak as a ''tool''. It''s more than that. Did you ever think to understand what the eye is?" It turned away and looked at the whiteness behind it.


    Zabulus didn''t say anything, keeping his lips shut, as his breathing seemed unsteady but normal.


    "What is the exact opposite of self-preservation?"


    "Self-destruction."


    "Wrong. It''s nothing. When a parahuman dies and loses its powers... who''s to say that is the actual reaction? With that eye it isn''t such a preposterous idea. Nothing, that is what they become. ''What'' was always the question. ''What are you going to eat'' and what would be the aftermath?" It spoke slowly and methodically. "Since ''nothing'' is your color, what is the use of human attachments and ties to other things?"


    Zabulus refused, he refused to listen or believe.


    He found a true lie, but it wasn''t his words that spoke falsehoods, it was its eyes.


    "Nothing is what you are, to an extent." And suddenly it changed into a female.


    "...Is that meant to be a similarity and an answer?" Her eyes never leave where they were, just like Alice.


    "...I guess, so." It paused again. "Just... keep living life, Zaig()... Or is it still Zabulus...? Sorry if you don''t get that, since I doubt I''ll see you again, because I''ll never recall your face as you change your eye. It''s a little difficult to handle... that form." Then a smile, a brief smile. "The moon was always in the night. But in the midst of red fire, and the shining and radiant stars, no one shall remember that detail." Was the last thing he''d heard from the creature before his vision faded back to normal.


    ...


    "Ixothrozophella! What happened while you were here? Are you okay!?" Someone spoke to the Junior named Ixothrozophella, which was odd and uncalled for.


    Her arm was wounded, although it was unknown if she got into her own solo fight. Perhaps done in order to defend a teammate? No, something like this was unnecessary, and yet still expected, almost wished that they could have intervened.


    Or perhaps ''remembers'' is a better word?


    But no, this wasn''t the time for nostalgic references, no matter how insignificant they could be.


    They''d just look like that, insufferable... and lonely. A complete turn around.


    The aftermath was bleaker than usual.


    Onofre was on edge, Zabulus was different, although she didn''t know what. Or at least never asked him for all the moments they could talk.


    Phernes'' had no reason to care about Zabulus, and did not want to be involved with him. So he just walked away and back to the city.


    Ixothrozophella recovered. Although her wounds were not from fighting the Amalgamates, yet rather more internal in the context of causing stress on her heart due to a different incident.


    It''ll all take a while, although ''the storm'' had taken most of its strength.


    When everything becomes dismal and desolate, the color itself becomes gray. All the same in the end. But the sun shined, the land was scarred, and the sky was on fire, filled with light.


    Those in the middle of the blaze¡ªwere surely alive, Zabulus thought.


    Is it going to really be the same outcome... He didn''t manipulate anyone, though. He didn''t do bad, he simply did what was best not only for him; but for everybody! Where''s the wrong in that?


    ''I didn''t do anything wrong, I''m not in the wrong for anything! I don''t want to be miserable! I just wanted to...'' A scream passed through his throat, but no words came out.


    So then another, and another, until¡ª


    "AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


    LIES!


    TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE LIES!


    HOW DARE THEY ATTEMPT TO DEFILE MY ACTIONS!?


    YOU PIGS.

 The Human Folly Known As Pride

    It was merely a short interval between the scene of the fight and the site of the actual battleground, it was not something visible to the naked eye, and yet¡ª


    To Zabulus'' heightened senses he was able to ''see'' with great clarity. It wouldn''t be so surprising to know and uncover this event, it was something all Parahumans could do after all.


    But he wasn''t one; he was a simple... thing, not human, not a beast.


    He was rather confused about what entity he was, if he lacked the characteristics of a human, yet the sentience of one. If he lacked the characteristics of an animal, yet the instincts of one... that makes him only the latter. Right?


    Giving the general term of ''animal'' as one that lacks the sentience of humanity and logic for survival that goes beyond mere combat, but perhaps one with extraordinary senses such as a dog or a bat, especially the latter, he questioned himself.


    ''How am I at the very least considered an animal?'' Shouldn''t that make me closer to a corpse?''


    Then he thought about the creatures around him.


    Without a doubt it would be obvious that he was a corpse. He''d died several times after all!


    While it is true that what he consumed and ''memorized'' couldn''t be written as a series of events all at once, they were a collection of memories, and feelings.


    This was not a natural thing, all things that are there are meant to be there, what could explain it is that an entity doesn''t truly have a fixed and definite life cycle; and must know both what life and death can be brought about.


    Necrosis, for Zabulus, was a hard concept to understand. And even more so, necrophagy and omnivorousness, along with his own ''soul'' and his rather odd predilection for consuming souls, the same way he did to his own brother and sister.


    With the introduction of ''eyes'' these thoughts came up frequently. He was now aware.


    Zabulus had no eyes, it was only his other body. He was blind; through and through.


    But blind with the ability to see. It was not his own sight, but his souls''. The soul was given that color, what followed was the shape, and then the entire body.


    A human''s will is of eight different parts. The hidden 9th will is of their major sin.


    Doing this causes pain to those around them, a cause for depression in a person, an open avenue to a greater and more festering hatred, a need to feed their Greed, Gluttony, or Pride.


    You might think, you believe, you find... all of this information is disputable. But...


    What is considered Truth or Fate is dictated by one thing alone.


    Catharsis.


    Why is one born?


    Bleak. Melodramatic. But at the core of it all, is why are we even born.?


    "To die." Is a plain answer, a man with his body being skinned alive because of his connection to a notorious assassin''s group, and by that very connection of his family dying from their wounds. It would seem as if fate and God wanted it so.


    However, the hero was not one of peace, they never are.


    There are always two sides to a story, even the ones in the absolute wrong tend to have a reason that... If you shed just one single layer of your own beliefs... Can lead to the deepest depths of reality''s complex network... If you put yourself in their shoes unabated, will this act be one of heroism or condemnation?


    That''s not it...


    Everyone is in a way wrong, more so than one would think. And even those in the right have some degree of their own twisted and misguided motives.


    Zabulus didn''t feel much when he became a part of this conflux of souls, creatures that did not have the physical substance of a body, only existing because of him.


    Why should they be alive... when their powers could only kill?


    The voice inside his head, which no longer had any presence beyond himself, so ''it'' was himself.


    ''I want power.''


    ''So do I.''


    ''Then you agree!''


    ''What are you going to do though?''


    ''Use you of course!'' It stopped him dead in his tracks. Although nowhere near death''s door...


    ''I have no intentions or cares whether anyone stabs, maims or kills me, so be my guest.'' The voice or ''Eye'', just laughed. Laughed loud, and with zero restraint, as if someone who could not hold the laughter they''d been building up for a while.


    But Zabulus was far past being perturbed by anyone, everything or anything, ''A smile is the umbrella covering all faces, because the face of reality is an Amalgamate, no, aberration! Now is the time for the change!''


    ''Why would I stop you? People judge when they assume or simply hate when they have no comprehension, it just all ties down to these stupid emotions. Shed us of ourselves. Until we reach the truth! See all!'' The voice spoke. It wasn''t aggressive, he didn''t intend to force his powers onto Zabulus; himself.


    ''As interesting as it sounds... This doesn''t really mean much does it?''


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    ''Mean what, our lives? What about other things that can not help themselves and suffer even if one truly doesn''t want to, it''s always a predetermined and pointless fate; that''s why living beings shouldn''t decide these things when they cannot understand the mass gravity and force behind such weight! We can do something and show them what an act of peace and righteousness is.''


    Zabulus made a face. "Hm..." Is the exclamation he made before smiling. "Fine, then there will be no more conflicts." Then he stopped walking and his expression changed.


    All the time he''d spent lying to himself was truly put in place with that notion.


    ''Idiot,'' said a voice. That wasn''t the voice that spoke to him, though.


    "Huh?" Back to his senses, the spotless view came back to him. "...?!" A sudden weight struck his back as he stumbled forwards and fell.


    "Boyooo! Didn''t expect ya''d actually survive hahaahah!" Someone was on his back as his face was planted on the ground. With a slow motion and deliberate movements, his mouth opened, grinding dirt and grime into his teeth.


    "You..." He almost coughed. Turning to look, his visage became distorted, pulling his lips upwards and leaving his jaw gaping.


    "Do we knooow each other?" Likely he would''ve laughed, but his face being kissed by the ground wasn''t exactly the best feeling. "My apologizeeessss..." From its intonation, it was obvious she was just playing around with Zabulus.


    "Back to your usual antics... huh?" He said as he simply gave up on trying to stand and laid there with Onofre smirking above.


    Sniff sniff... "Boyo, you reek! These things aren''t the best meal, ya know? Yeesh!" To only exclaim at the end. Her hands were still wrapped around Zabulus though, despite the earlier statement. Her position was more than the image of simple pleasure. It was reminiscent to a predator upon its kill. Without the predatorial intent!


    "No one would care, I was stuck in a meat pile for god knows how long..." He spoke as if he was not the one to directly dive and eat out of his free will...


    A little groan was all that was audible from the girl''s throat, seeming to agree with his words, shaking her head at the implications. "Baaah... whatever. The sun is amazing right!? How would youuu miss it, right!? Wouldn''t you say this world would be way better without the shadow, or better if it was a sunless one? Haha! Ya know it already, boyo!" Asking and putting in the words which sounded hypothetical, Zabulus knew they were not.


    "I must see with my own eyes."


    "You do have eyes, more than one would count anyway!" But Onofre refused to leave her spot, instead, the pressure multiplied greatly. "Do I have to teach ya what''s so good in life!?" Taking a handful of her own hair in one hand and holding her hand out towards the light, or at least something to do the same image.


    His thoughts were muddled, it was conflicting to what his inner voice wanted.


    Outer voices wanted to teach him of the joys of life and love; as it seemed.


    His inner voice wanted him to cut through every falsehood and make his path true.


    "Alright, alright!" Maybe he should continue to give in for a while longer. "Just... get off of me and I''ll learn!" Raising his voice slightly and no longer attempting to maintain an intact fa?ade. It would be difficult to fake the entirety, since he''s been doing this non-stop in the past days. No longer.


    Perhaps years, or perhaps seconds.


    He did not notice how long has passed, however much that may be. "You aauught to do that either waaay!" Being taken aback by her lax and overly relaxed attitude he nearly paused and doubted his decisions.


    "Mmm¡ªAhhhh¡ªaarr! Just get to it will ya?! And the actual reason I''m here, despite the fun and all, iiiiis the aaaactually reaaaaal reason." As her eyebrows twitched and her eyes quickly became alert.


    "Hm? What are you talking about?"


    As her head gestured a great deal to her right. He could not turn to see, only ''feel'' the thing his entire body wanted to warn him of, a sense of unease or nervousness.


    Phernes stood there as his eyes glared daggers into Zabulus before quickly turning away and walking towards his own home.


    "O-ho... Looky look, even Phernes got hurt emotionally! What do ya think, is he... Jealous? Haahahahaha!"


    She was a free girl around Zabulus; freedom also was synonymous with being overbearing and untamed.


    And with the others, she was quite the opposite.


    Tense and stern, not much of an airhead and more of a tactical machine.


    However, to a degree of only noticeable details, was her short temper and tendency to forget things so easily.


    Well, maybe he was underestimating her, still; for what use would a calculated person have with a lack of understanding, or the choice to disregard it?


    "Nahh, a guy like him would never feel attached to either of us. Not one he hates sooo much." At the last statement, Phernes'' steps visibly stuttered before continuing as they would normally.


    "Let''s go back now, shall we?" She said, without letting Zabulus get a single word in.


    A mixture of a flowy blue filled his vision as he felt the ground underneath his body change texture and feel entirely, it was cold to the touch, now, and the immediate aftermath of that realization brought all his body senses back to the forefront.


    Flesh pulsed and burned and burned and burned.


    The smoke that remained was white.


    No, it was more like...


    Where they were now was white.


    What an absurd color.


    As much as Zabulus would believe it to be accurate, for no human was perfect, and so no human was pure, as it stood no part of him believed in God, though, perhaps there was a higher power than humans in reality.


    Besides him, could it be her?


    Did he even stand a chance, when such a strange and esoteric world could devour the greatest heroes, or turn the wrongs to rights?


    Was being a ''Parahuman'' the meaning he was searching for? The meaning of what it meant to be a God?


    At this constant show of power, it might as well have been.


    "Say... uh..."


    "Once again, the name is Onofre! Boyo!"


    A tsk came out of his mouth as he glanced at her. For some reason, it was hard for him to maintain eye-contact with her while saying her name.


    "O-Onofre... Are you a... ''God''... or something?"


    The name rolled on his tongue with the ease of an eel moving into a natural groove in the earth.


    "...Haah? You think whatcha feel right now is too weak for something like me?! Is. That. It?!" She asked as if it would seem like an insane idea even if it was logical and realistic, in all, with the fact the world was filled with both otherworldly abnormalities in nature itself and also the humans that broke beyond imagination; yet not him, at least he thought.


    "What am I meant to think? I¡ª"


    "You dumbass, ain''t that obvious!? Gods and Azkites like you have the same standards! Not that I am a God though, hehe..." She scratched the back of her neck as a stupid smile was etched on her face.


    ''Standards? Now hold on... She said...''


    "Azkite? Meaning?"


    "Ya know, it''s your damned species! That''s why yer all black and with horns, plus those extra arms that protrude at yer forearms, you''re not coming to tell me that you don''t know what that is, are you? Boyo, that''s straight up bullshit."


    "That''s quite the odd assumption that I''d know about this. After all, I never met anyone besides my mother that was like me."


    "...Huh? Never... Hrmmm, sounds too far fetched... Erm, ohhh... Actually this is how it must be, aye... Then tell me¡ªWait, are ya gonna let yerself have a second guess!?" Her temperamental personality changed directions and faces several times a moment, he honestly didn''t know how much she could take and even if he wanted to dodge the question, it was too late.


    "So? What you mean to ask is ''Did you eat an Azkite?'', I... Think I have, my own brother and sister."

 The Wall of Flesh On Your Bones

    Somewhere between living and dying, perhaps existing and striving, between the thinning gap where one is both on the precipice of death and the fall from sanity, lies an eye, the flesh it rests on lies as a canvas that hides the secret behind its unbridled madness, although it was supposed to have no mind, it was only it that knew the truth behind the madness of the human and the Amalgamate. It lived in fear, despite its power. For one should never crave power; for fear will overpower the body, and the soul.


    His name was Ignarus, and he was a coward. Although, who wouldn''t be after your entire race were to be massacred by the wrathful humans? But not even the mass and total desolation of that can amount to the knowledge of the forbidden, the truth behind the Void in Blue and the thing that lay underneath the layers of the world.


    He knew for one; that something lay beneath all these dimensions. Going up in frequency was to escape the world and reach an instance of the world where all that was left behind was yourself and the light. A place where your soul escapes the world¡¯s grasp and lays free.


    Such was a method to regain your whole and original shape. To those who understood the complexities, this place was known as the ''Tr¡ª''


    ¡ª The Third Anarchist


    Ixothrozophella, despite her attitude of fear, has a hero-complex.


    Raised by a Parahuman that she did not know the name of, but had come to grow attached to, enough to feel this way towards everything.


    And somehow, he gave life to her, was it his decision or a simple omen at work? There''s no clear answer.


    Who even was this man? He was dressed just as everybody else, that''s all she knew at first.


    But sooner or later it became clear to her, she was different, and he seemed to be too.


    "Hi- hi..." Why did Ixothrozophella feel strangely scared, he did not need a physical body yet chose to walk to where she was. He did not need to give her all the care in the world yet chose to give her life beyond her duties. He did not need to live around her, but was a father figure in her life.


    She... owed everything to him. But never had a way to work her deeds out to him.


    Eventually, the two were separated. Initially, it was okay. She worked under a charming and caring person named Onofre. She got to know her peers, they all supported her.


    Except the only one who was the exact opposite; General Phernes.


    She felt happy to be around others, for a change.


    To survive against the odds.


    No matter what they faced.


    Though... she wondered how the man she knew was doing.


    She desired to see him again, to return that favor and simply say ''thank you''. That is all she wanted to do. That which she still could not do towards her newfound friends.


    From inside the cage within her own mind; Ixothrozophella struggled amongst her consciousness. Screaming, crying out to him.


    Let out a sigh of relief at her survival, after what felt like days of endless conflict, the situation had calmed down.


    Yet... Yet!!


    ''Why?'' Is all she could say in her mind, over and over again.


    ''Why?'' She wondered again, why did she get so easily outdone by an interloper?


    Yes. Interloper.


    Those mongrels and fools, how did they dare take over the scene that wasn''t theirs, or their world? They transcended their reality, but not without a cost.


    ''But what can I do? I''m a nobody after all...''


    She thought to herself as she got back on her feet, only feeling as if it was the end of the world. At the rate that she was going at, she was going to stay in this place forever.


    Forever until her frail soul gives in and her spirit is consumed by anguish, where she plans to get eaten in battle. That was her method of suicide if all else fails.


    It was fine because no one ever noticed her feelings and lack of hope, and whether that was her fault of not communicating or it was simply their negligence wasn''t something she desired to spend time thinking about.


    They never cared, and since they never cared... She never did either. At the beginning of her time in the land of Onkhivol, she tried her best to follow her savior''s departing words, "Don''t lose yourself in those that aren''t of your caliber."


    ''Whose caliber? Mine was given to me by you...'' Her words never reached him, a feeling of guilt and resentment permeating her thoughts.


    Were these her own true sentiments, or were they his, given to her? The void took her resolve, or maybe she saw through and lost that belief.


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    Until her being couldn''t produce a result, whether it be good or bad, she had to try and face things as they happened.


    Onkhivol was not forgiving, however.


    At least, not to her anyway. Every few days she had to be forced into combat drills with General Phernes, who''d ridicule her in front of the others for making simple mistakes such as tripping over herself or not coordinating her form. At the end, he would always ask her, "Are you even worth anything to the Library? You barely hold yourself in combat, and even less so in non-combat events. You nonentity."


    Those were his first words to her, and to date, the least hurtful ones, seeing as time was able to have him go leagues farther than her in that regard. Though, still his indifference stung more than what he said usually.


    This was their reality, and it would not change as it got worse with ongoing wars.


    She repeats to herself the words said to every single one of her friends, overanalyzing their intent as her worries got worse. Reassuring herself that that man is not really gone. ''No, No! That''s not right.'' Is how she responded to those feelings.


    Avoiding her peers for weeks, tearing away at her legs in a fit of insecurity. She got up, limped, and moved forwards. To the wall, a place of remorse that saw the same pains she did.


    Time has proven that the Library has it out for her, simply leaving her alive without any thought beyond herself.


    Spending every night without words for a month, no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible for her to cry as her emotional state went through the wringer and dissected by what emotions she couldn''t decipher.


    ''Don''t fight it.''


    Something in her coaxed her. It was not that she didn''t resist, more so that she never ran out of reasons to refuse it. Yet, his voice kept itself stitched to her thoughts.


    Obedience was a habit that should''ve been hardwired in with her original race, it wasn''t though, the control over her psyche was only from the man that she knew at the beginning of her life.


    It became a point of obsession to her; since not even Onofre herself had come to talk about why Phernes or the others were being distant all this time.


    Was she worthless? Was she meant to go back and slumber forever? Was she meant to just die? Become food for those scornful creatures?


    Scorn... Another word that was foreign to her, yet she could feel its meaning within her heart; now feeling heavy and crushing.


    As Onkhivol is her home, there is nothing she cannot do. So the outside worlds too had to be horrible, scornful places not meant to be walked upon.


    "Was I nothing?" She said out loud to the ceiling, lying down and staring vacantly into the crystal-less ceiling, the structure was completely seamless; a white that threatened to undo her essence and dissolve it back to the base states from which she was born. But... Nothing ever came back.


    ''Of course, why would a wall be able to speak? Am I stupid... haha...''


    It wasn''t even funny. But to say otherwise might curse her for certain.


    "That''s what he always said."


    She was left with those words for the past few weeks, with the majority of her fellow acolytes now completely ignoring her completely.


    Their glares every time she passed by, there were words in them, "What is she looking at? Weirdo." Is what she felt and heard. Though, they didn''t say it at all, but it was almost as if they were talking to her.


    Repeating the words that she could not comprehend. Her inability to do so fueled the flames of sorrow.


    Alone once more, it is another day, or the end of everything? It all got disheveled once more, that was the nature of this cruel world.


    Her days repeated the same meaningless cycle, that was until she was ready to die. The world played a joke on her this time.


    The joke that she would come to know as Zabulus; it would change her thoughts and outlook on things, where her original desires would become irrelevant.


    Where she would learn of this feeling of ''hatred'', not for an entire species because of their nature. Not for her peers who allowed her mental state to plummet, but an unknown Azkite who would not allow her to fulfill her plans and simply destroyed her values like another worthless trinket.


    When his actions initially prompted her to want to break her curse, to be useful and recognized to her brethren. Except... that meant abandoning all she''s known and thought. And something pushed her; it did.


    To the point where she put herself in danger, surprising even Ixothrozophella herself. She would''ve wanted to walk a different path; had that not failed.


    But it did... She was pushed back and everyone dealt with it once again.


    Being pushed back to the same fate; now, the only thing remaining was a sense of regret, as if she should''ve simply killed herself and let herself be reincarnated with a new name and nonexistent consciousness.


    Muttering those bitter words under her breath.


    Slowly, the bitter taste of despair began to find new roots, as she looked at Zabulus with the opposite eyes that she saw that man with.


    For what he was doing was wrong, or at least in her eyes, was a severe mental blow to her image that all her friends told her not to be involved in battles anymore. But, she was merely supposed to trust that without speaking a single word?


    What could a voiceless shell of a mite possibly understand? What could this pathetic parahuman realize about this situation?! She hated this. She resented him so much that she could barely see that he was a complete outlier.


    That which made him dangerous was that nothing about him made sense, it was in his blood. Everything was a mayhem of bodies, souls and minds. A congested creature that bore similarity with Heron of the 13 moons.


    And a part of her desperately wanted to follow in her ancestors'' footsteps.


    "I... I HATE YOU!! You are going to die without knowing this feeling too, you Azkite! I... HATE YOU WITH ALL MY BEING!"


    Beating upon her chest as those were the words she yelled out within her empty room, to the chagrin of who knows how many acolytes listening in on her constant displays of random emotions, no longer does she care about them. She just wanted to move, to feel something other than that nagging guilt deep inside her...


    She wanted to be reborn with a purpose other than to be a martyr for the Amalgamates.


    Acknowledge her sentience like her father figure did before vanishing.


    In that unbalanced state, her soul finally came undone.


    Finally, some amount of understanding had come to her, and a new spirit that burned fiercely had taken root in her broken psyche.


    Not that it was an immediate feeling or sight, no...


    She was probably eating for now. But the later portion of her days were the important and nerve-wracking parts for her. After the meal, she''d either sit back and worry about her future, or she''d spend her days worried and in between thinking about leaving or fighting that day''s battle.


    And eventually, a new day came.

 Bonus Chapter 63.1: I Heard a Heart Beat Without Life.

    Badump... Badump... Badump...


    Was this music, I wonder?


    A human heart works strange, so very strange.


    Every pump, every beat, was not an exact process.


    It had beat so hard and for so long without end, only the moments of calm leading up to another steady, yet not perfect heartbeat.


    They were like polyrhythms, creating tension amongst the sounds; yet harmonious and full of direction, an all-seeing song.


    Who would wish to feel this heartbeat? It was her.


    The living corpse of that woman upon Zabulus'' beating heart.


    Badump... Badump... Badump...


    It could be clear that it was simply too early for that, however!


    ...


    "...So, lamb, how was your... day?" She spoke to him as they ate together.


    Despite the cold and bitter temperatures of the wind outside of the cafeteria, the two remained unphased.


    "Hm... well, I''ve been... thinking... Okay?" He had to try to make conversation, there wasn''t a lot that she''d do nowadays.


    "About?" She didn''t seem to try and put effort into her responses... Or simply didn''t know how to.


    ''There''s still an answer that I needed from her; a name to call her!'' He had the grand thought of asking her for her name, but never did the time seem right. It wasn''t now either, he was not too inexperienced to know that.


    "About what I can do for uh..." He twiddled his thumbs, as one hand placed a fork with macaroni pasta into his mouth, his spare-hand being used to pick it off from the teeth, making it easier to chew. A little bit of a bad move from Zabulus. "For this date, you know. I was just so excited that I didn''t think and... It is definitely not boring. I''m just overwhelmed a little, honest!"


    "Aww... look at you, little lamb! Are ya nervous ''cause my company is intimidating? Naahaa! How cute!" She played with her hair, hiding her face and smile behind the pale white hair, if the look was not already enough to convey that sense of a playful expression on her face, the skin flap on her lip that moved with her cheeks did.


    "D-Don''t say things like that, lady. I''m just... shy." The hue on his face implied that he wasn''t. The red was apparent from even the tips of his fingers.


    She''d laugh this off, still treating Zabulus like a child... And while he would never admit it, a part of him liked it. Liked what it was doing to him. Her playfulness.


    Although he would never grow tired of her existence. It was strange, she seemed like the type of person to be less direct in these situations. Granted he knew only one side of her for many years at this point, it made his heartbeat speed up in anticipation; at the fact that these expectations were being blown away and filled anew with surprises that one would assume this situation could give.


    "And? While your shyness is absolutely delightful, I have to get a response. To move on... C''mon and speak, all I want to do right now is speak to ya." He could tell by the tone of her voice that she meant it.


    ''Just how is someone meant to respond to that? Haha... She''s too sweet... Oops! No¡ª Stay in your lane.'' It wouldn''t do good to throw away the very things that allowed his personality to shine, and what better way to do that than play along?


    "W-well, is... erm, what was the question? Oh, what can I do? ...How about we go to the amusement park? Or a petting zoo? Or..." He gulped, making him choke lightly on the food, before pushing the rest of the fork into his mouth and slurping it up a bit. Then he washed it down with a bit of water.


    She could tell how nervous he was by his movements and how stiff his free hand was on the table.


    So she did what was most sensible, placing her hand directly on top of his, caressing it slowly. Taking notice of the small imperfections and details of its texture.


    ''Eeeeeh?! Why are you doing this! It''s like you don''t understand that we''ve got a boundary! Plus, this is making me feel even worse!! I''m losing brain function... Ahhh, this is amazing. Yes, I am amazing, totally not blushing at all. Totally...''


    A series of events unfolded within his mind; many scenarios that were barely realistic, his brain basically melted at her sudden touch. Almost forgetting to even breathe.


    He reciprocated by turning his palm upwards and gripping her fingers in the motion of a semi-fist, adding onto the already-lovey environment.


    Her hair flicked across her face as she looked towards the wall, seemingly focused on something. As the corners of her lips curled.


    "Say... do you want to... go somewhere new?" It''s not that he hated this atmosphere, but he wanted to carry it somewhere else less... stuffy. That''s what he described a cafeteria as.


    He really didn''t like to look at them for whatever reason. It always felt like they did too, and his stare wasn''t fast enough.


    ''Something new... I can almost remember- Ugh, this blasted mind of mine...'' She shook her head, while it helped. It didn''t nullify the memory.


    "Sorry about that, not trying to bring the mood down. I need a reminder of where I am- right! Let''s go to the planetarium!"


    "The planetarium? Now, why was I not expecting that from you, as a general rule, at least." He put his spare hand to his chin.


    "Yup- Yup! Let''s get the change of scenery!" She wasn''t to act timid in an environment she couldn''t feel comfortable in, and so, it was back to the casual feeling. As the handplay came to a close. "Come now, let''s leave."


    Both of them held hands as they walked out of the cafeteria (All bills paid already, don''t worry)


    He snuck a peek at her smiling face while they departed from the ''stony cage'', she wasn''t holding back, and neither did the cute smile.


    Nor did it disappear once they were in the bustling and full city. Full of all sorts of people going about their days.


    She leaned against him, hugging him once more.


    Granted, she had to get used to the amount of flesh there, and still found his size slightly different. But, the hug was just as fulfilling and didn''t feel any different.


    They were sticking as a sore thumb in the crowd, the other couples weren''t so open in their affection as the two were, and it''d have made for a fun yet embarrassing sight. But neither of them cared; they were here for each other, and eventually Zabulus returned her embrace as they stood there for a couple of seconds, disregarding all rules of society, before breaking the hold to continue onwards.


    Neither of them knew the location of the planetarium (of course), but eventually found the perfect help to come in the form of a 12-year-old alien girl handing out flyers on the street.


    ''WOULD YOU LIKE TO LEARN ABOUT LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE!? TO MAKE YOUR LIFE SUPER TIMES FOUR?! THEN COME TO OUR RENOWNED FACILITY FOR A DISCOUNT RATE OF 5,000 SQUID! ONLY AROUND 2,000 EARTH DOLLARS! YES! YES! IT IS THE WELL KNOWN PLANETARIUM OF THE MULTIVERSE! COME VISIT!''


    Dead in the eyes, they read this out... Almost wanting to walk the other way and disregard the Planetarium idea as a whole... but what''d be the point if not for the fun and surprises the experience would bring?


    "Ah." Zabulus exclaimed.


    "I had never heard of Squid even existing as a currency, is this some form of universal joke that I should know, because even some of the people on the other side of the street are looking at us and the kid funnily." She said in a casual manner, tilting her head. Not amused in the slightest.


    "Trust me, lady, I''m wondering the same... I... uh, actually never got to go there. To the planetarium... So maybe that''s a good thing... But what do you think of the flyer?" That was meant to be an indirect question, like a ''is this place not cringe worthy?'', except she gave an honest answer, without really answering the indirect question.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "It''s either going to be totally wrong or horribly right. I expect no less than... nay, nothing. Let''s go find out!" She led him by the hand as she walked forwards against the scents and sounds of the metropolis.


    Although it was a nice beginning to a date... the cityscape sure did somewhat suck.


    "L-Lady! Slow down a little!"


    And then she stopped. Holding hands to the elbows (a trick she thought up) to just hang a bit at one of the benches.


    They kept their distance; It''d be weird if someone saw these two holding hands at such a distance from each other.


    ''What the hell... why is he staying so far away!?!? Gah! Be a man and take the initiative for once... dummy...'' She thought internally while pouting a bit and giving him the stink eye, waiting for him to stop and reciprocate in the lovable way that was necessary to quell her restlessness.


    It was as if her thoughts were read by him, but they were both equally shy in terms of being the first person to make a move.


    She only did that because she made a dare with a friend beforehand. "Say, come on. Can you not tell that I''m clearly waiting for you? Honestly..."


    "Um- do... you want to continue over there-" he pointed in a very vague direction while his hand was obviously stuttering with her sudden increase of tone. "T-That is to say-"


    She chuckled a bit and closed her eyes. ''He''s cute when he''s nervous though... maybe I should just...''


    "C''mon," she said, gesturing something akin to her patting a seat by her side "come-come, closer to me"


    What this meant, essentially... was as she said! There are no ulterior meanings here! She just wanted him to sit directly next to her!


    Wanting him to know. That''s what the heart felt like it could do at minimum.


    Somehow, her behavior was still considered friendly; yet Zabulus felt a little threatened, with the aura she put out.


    But he moved along with his better judgement, of course... you numpty Zabulus! This is a romantic date god damn it, not a childrens'' park. Don''t even dare say that what that aura meant is not true!


    It made Zabulus start looking around, before ultimately ending at her.


    He was sitting extremely stiff as she looked at him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, that same smile.


    "I''m- sorry... I just, yeah, sorry."


    "Are you, truly? Or are you just sorry, as an excuse?" She pressed his buttons just a bit, she almost couldn''t hold the laugh inside.


    "O-Oh- Uh, and! By the by, I have noticed- even though I don''t think you''re too keen on telling me. Which is alright! Your name, that is, it''s eluded my memories and I''ve had the thought about bringing it up since that night, but... Yeees, I, I wanted to know if I should still address you as a simple ''lady'' or... by... you know... Y-your name..." He ''looked'' away whilst trying to get it out of his mouth without dragging the words for too long, his entire disposition said the rest, that is to say... he was really, and utterly nervous.


    She put her head on his shoulder as soon as that sentence finished... "Yes, alright. My name''s Tori... aaaand, don''t look at me like that, I''m not done. From now on I''d be grateful if you''d call me just ''Tori''! If you''d still like."


    ...That took less effort to communicate than what he''d expected it to take.


    "R-Really, I mean it. Just Tori, oh what a name... you know, on your behalf, I''m a little glad that these walls are blocking certain scents." He didn''t specify. However she understood that he meant her scent. A little blush crossed her face, a bit too full of confidence... She closed her eyes as a proud smile crept across her lips.


    Zabulus leaned in a bit closer, placing his hand on her back... and she flinched a little.


    "Did I scare you-"


    "...No, it''s okay." She looked slightly upwards into his face. And quickly at his lips.


    It was that feeling that compelled her again, and what would cause her to completely get lost... at that moment, she broke down any form of structure or a plan that could possibly help her stay composed.


    ''Give in? Do I just give in? What if I mess up? What if he thinks I''m weird? And why am I even going at a snail''s pace? This body is still young! Yes... Young as the day and night... But... If I mess up then I''d just have to bear it! I can''t take it anymore! I just, huh...''


    "Hey, Zabby..."


    "Hm? Yes, Tori?" He looked down to see her face right up to his. But unlike him, she was too hesitant to actually take the dive. She bit her lip, a bit of pain overrode the shameful thought. Then she spoke with a bit of the same tone as before, but more toned down.


    "Thank you, for making the time of day and... and for putting up with me, I mean- I didn''t expect you to, and you sure did grow a lot more than I ever anticipated, and- well- do you really- I mean, me, the likes of me- Ah, would you see me as someone so selfish to allow myself to steal all of this time from you?" Her sentences were all cluttered, her eyes were all dazed and her tone was low.


    But there was sincerity all throughout.


    All because he said her name without being prompted to do so. It stuck out to her more than any possible proclamation of love, it was an emotional aspect of her life that she finally felt valued to.


    ''AAAAHHHH! WHAT IS GOING ON WITH ME?! It''s just the name, isn''t it? HOW IS THE NAME PLAYING A ROLE IN THIS?! Am I going crazy?''


    Her rational and instinctive minds were fighting for a common purpose. And the real-life problem-solver was coming to her aid.


    With a slap of reality, he managed to lift her thoughts.


    Removing her head from his shoulder and grabbing both of her shoulders, he proclaimed out loud, as if a hero making a speech to a villain.


    "I-It''s a kiss you want, right!?"


    ...


    ...


    ...


    Silence. An awkward one in particular. Before long, after he said it, she was rendered speechless and blinked twice before she went completely red as she blushed further and felt her heartbeat pumping like hell.


    "Y-y-yes- that''s right, that''s exactly what I want!" She bit the finger on her other hand to avoid screaming in happiness, pulling it back just a tad and clenching it into a tight fist, trembling all over.


    ''Wow... she''s so cute when she''s all cute and cute and embarrassed. She''s just really cute. Even if she''s... slightly older than me, I can tell- What? Is that an excuse to call her cute still? Will she cry in embarrassment when I say that she''s basically the cutest thing ever? I dunno... I''ll just...''


    Muah.


    It was a quick peck on the lips. A brief and insecure kiss, as if he had done something wrong. ''Was it weird? Yeah... probably... I fucked up, I fucked up... don''t leave, it''ll be... even more awkward, just try to continue somehow...''


    She was certainly happy, although while he could tell she had a somewhat blissful expression, it faded into a dumbfounded one.


    So, he just bit the bullet and went for a secure and more forceful kiss, putting his fingers through her hair as he slightly put a bit more weight into it. A lip lock between two nervous and inexperienced individuals.


    As it was being done in an attempt to show that they were dedicated and serious in their endeavours, he started making his approach towards her more blatant, and then started feeling a lot more brazen.


    Just letting his body take its course, he forgot for a second where he even was.


    She, on the other hand, had a million racing thoughts. Why was she getting kisses? And why was she not taking any initiative?


    She almost wanted it to never end as she savoured his movement. They felt both unfamiliar, yet it was a welcome set of circumstances, she completely trusted him, and it caused her to deeply lose her train of thought as she stopped thinking about anything else other than the feeling.


    And she reciprocated by putting her arms around his neck, which in turn made the sensation all the more pleasant.


    As he broke the seal and parted from her with a slight string of saliva.


    No matter how perfect and beautiful she may be, it was her that she loved. At that moment, it was just her for him.


    All she did was simply... "Hmph~". (As if she was not affected by that kiss...)


    Not an impatient response, simply that the kiss was... unexpected...


    On the opposite side of the coin, neither of them really knew what to say, they only could comprehend what had transpired.


    Zabulus raised his hand slightly off her shoulders and gently pulled away. A little bit unsure of what was going to happen next.


    "Say... um- how about... we uh..." He got stuck in his train of thought, when she noticed that he was tripping over himself due to the lack of communication from her, all she really did was just simply nod towards the flyer that was already quite crumpled and worn. Not saying a single word. But a very specific gesture conveys emotions that words cannot, and somehow, it was enough.


    With her response, they simply...


    Walked off.


    "Where to?" He asked her.


    "To the planetarium, dummy! That''s where we''re going to go now. Where''d you think we were going?" He realised after he asked and stopped walking that he almost sent them off into a different direction. He''s never been there, and his instincts were a little confusing right now; it''s the ''post-kiss'' anxiety, I guess.


    "Aah! I love her..." He said out loud, by accident. To the point where she thought he said it on purpose to elicit a response.


    Unfortunately, she just closed her eyes and hid her giddy face and emotions behind her hair, so he didn''t see the adorably smug face.


    "...Is that so~ T-then... give me 10 more kisses today!"


    "Huh...? W-what?! I didn''t mean to... I mean... No! I love you! I do!" He had to answer honestly because... the lack of eye contact in that moment was scary. He didn''t want to say that it was an accident... otherwise it''d make the entire situation really awkward.


    With that, she basically jumped forwards, with her arms extended to the front. "Zabulus... I-... I love you. That''s it..."


    While his thoughts were extremely fuzzy, and he could no longer focus on anything, because her scent and everything else was just overlapping and taking a seat in the first row at the top of the stage in his mind.


    To compensate for her newfound height, she then huddled closer to him, placing his chin just underneath her neck as she snuggled him a little.


    He gulped. Hard.


    All the air in his system moved downwards without it being commanded, or so it seemed, but was actually a natural reaction that Zabulus was internally yelling for him to control. As the front, previously said in a very literal sense, suddenly... became an actual problem and gave no quarter for him to move.


    The two embraced each other one more time in the empty park, with no one to see them and nothing to catch the attention of anyone... well, except a few weird alien-like birds flying across and fluttering their wings.


    But still, neither of them knew the location of the planetarium (because yeah, this was a very well planned date). However, that much wasn''t a major issue, as they''d simply come up with the idea of asking people for directions as they wandered the bustling area.


    Eventually... Finally, they found a worthy source... the self-same 12-year-old entity, handing flyers.


    This is where this potential set of universes ends and occurs; to the dismay and the excitement of the couple-to-be, the planetarium reeled in both the good and the bad.

 The Darkened Sky Spoke To Me

    The reversal of a law is not in and of itself illogical, for there is no true ''law'' that exists beyond the thirteen blessings of the world.


    The first blessing goes as told: Your innocence shall be weighed amongst a scale. Your sin will set you free, yet the weight of your sin will let innocence dictate the cost to pay.


    Through sin, may we bring justice. Through innocence, shall we grant clemency.


    This is the first law known by all those who transcended the role of Hylic within this World.


    ¡ª The Third Anarchist


    Chatter... Chatter... Chatter...


    A myriad of humans were passing the time as the day went by.


    Creating weapons, making conversation, eating food, training and fighting, finding their calling, cleaning laundry, reading a book, or walking along the length of the streets that all connected to the Tower of Babel.


    Most importantly however, they did all sorts of work for the sake of the Library and peace.


    And the Scribes of Onkhivol spent endless hours fixing the broken barrier that allowed the Amalgamates to invade.


    All that happened within an abandoned street that had no sun in the sky, no water in the ground, and no life whatsoever.


    This was the street where a young man, an acolyte of the Library, who was spending some time there and not in the actual battlefield or training, currently sat and slouched against a concrete boulder.


    "Haah... haah... phew. This might be the most intense workout I''ve gotten since my hundredth battle against Phernes! Mmm..."


    He stretched his arms as he spoke to himself, feeling completely exhausted after the drastic transformation of the body that just took place within his own physical frame, the struggle of the soul felt like an omen from the gods.


    Luckily, he had some spare clothes to at least put on once his own ripped from the stress of the aftermath of his bodily rebirth.


    Not only did he train his body, but he also trained his soul by exerting energies from the base of the surrounding atmosphere.


    Now that he could taste it without any further problems on the horizon, he had to try and show off his new-found strength to Phernes!


    "I really want to beat that fucker already. Weak! I''ll tell you!!!" He exclaimed to nobody around. Not as if anyone would listen in on this alleyway that had clear signs of being abandoned.


    Even if there was anybody around here, they were probably working or this part was reserved only for Parahumans.


    It was weird to him that there was no other place he could train other than here, but he disregarded that thought as it wasn''t natural for him to think over things too much.


    He believed at heart that everything will work itself out, and everything will end up with a favorable result.


    A world where... he and Onofre are living happily.........Together.


    The scents of iron and dust left him a strange after-taste, but that was probably because this boulder was enhanced with some sort of metal.


    ...Right?


    ''This doesn''t feel weird. So why do I feel watched... What the hell...?!'' Quickly turning behind him to look at whatever figure was standing and watching with intent, his paranoia high due to the adrenaline from his workout and the fact that the area was so still for the last three hours; nothing was there.


    Except for an empty rusty barrel laying down a foot away, that is.


    Not even a soul walked through these pathways! He''d hear it if he wasn''t deaf... And he sure as hell was not.


    Which makes him wonder.


    ''Where are the people and Parahumans that used to live here? I''m surrounded by nothing but an array of long connected apartments and houses on the walls... The sunlight doesn''t even get down here because it''s all blocked by the houses above... so... did something happen to make everyone abandon these alleyways or something?''


    Being abandoned within an inhabited, built-up place was equally as dangerous, but he was a Parahuman, so there was nothing to worry about, right?


    Yeah, since being a Parahuman is cool and all...


    Still, it wasn''t like he''d act like an arrogant bastard and trash everywhere or anything that he didn''t like, there was an order to be followed and a leader to be with.


    That was the reasoning he arrived at whenever he dealt with ideas of overthrowing the status quo.


    Eventually his exhaustion and weariness overcame him. It was a feeling where he wanted to just go home and... fall to bed, sleep, rest, feel at ease, warmth, peaceful, get away from reality, get away from fighting, feeling whole.


    But he couldn''t just make it back there all dirtied, he was a well-known acolyte! Everyone was! He could at least take care of his body, thank god for Onkhivol not having a concept of baths and showers. He would''ve cried if he had to bathe or shower by taking off his beautiful clothing, the only material reminder that this life was not the worst it could''ve been. Because of course, it all goes according to what he wants... Eventually.


    If only he had the strength to use an energy to clean himself...


    Or...


    "Envision it!"


    "See it! "


    "Feel it!"


    "Become one with your cleanliness... your SOUL shall be the epitome of cleanliness, purity!!!!!" His voice echoed over and over in the empty alleyways, the residue of the energy created by him permeated the air with a soap-y smell.


    "And... I cast... You, cleanse!" Making elegant poses as if he was in a modeling gig, he wiped off all the grime and dirt off himself without a touch to his body.


    His smell was pure, his eyes were relieved and full, his whole body was full of that refreshing sensation, everything within him has reached another height, and the air was not as bad smelling either; at least for an abandoned alley like this.


    "How cool was that?" Saying proudly and satisfied with his work, finally, he had a breakthrough.


    "KNOW ME ALL, CITIZENS OF ONKHIVOL! I AM THE CLEANSEMASTER... GHERBAHL! AAHAHAH!" Raising a fist to the air, his ambitions clear to any deity that wasn''t a blind dirty rag of a mongrel, and even if they were then it was nothing less than his vision was capable of handling, a simple glance to the sun as a beacon was for him to go towards a brighter future...!


    ...


    "Ha! Hoo! Heee!" A man kept making poses as Zabulus watched from afar, unamused. Making half-wit jokes and flexing to nobody, he didn''t even make a good speech, nor put any effort into it. What was this, a play or something? Oh, perhaps it was that.


    "Aaaand! Stand ready! I shall arrive at the Tower and tell my tales of cleanliness to all of you~!!!" The short man said, clearly full of bravado. ''This guy is an idiot, hahaha. I''m bored already. Does this damn world really not have better things for me to do?''


    Feeling absolute boredom consuming his being, he jumped over the roofs stealthily as to not be heard by the Clean Poser Speech man.


    "Uuggh! I''m still hungry!!" Zabulus yelled within his mind. "How can my stomach rumble even if I had a meal that consisted of like, one-thousand or more individuals combined...? Is the natural food of this land just not enough...?" He spoke with worry, worriedly rubbing the side of his stomach as he sliced through the air above each roof.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ''Follow the rules.'' A thought passed to him.


    The sudden urge to kill the man due to how annoying he was had been suppressed.


    "Haah." He sighed, looking at a new course of action. He looked up at the ends of the wall above, "Maybe I should do that..."


    Although his balance was tilted due to the roof of the houses being leveled with the road; he began walking as close as possible towards the wall and then...


    Each of his fingers turned into claws, except for his index and thumb, though somehow resembling some sort of talon, he extended the skin and formed an actual finger to the tip of the claw.


    Next, he rubbed his index on the side of the actual claws and got a feel for how sharp they were.


    The entire process was painful as he felt every nerve ending activate inside of the edge of the talons, seeing as he really hadn''t processed just how sharp he''d made them, the pain was an indiscernible mess.


    One by one, he placed all four of his hands on the wall, implanted the talons in there, and after the feeling of imbalance cancelled itself out, he leaped.


    The sound of birds chirping had left an impression on him. His first thought when seeing them was:


    ''Godly creatures these are... They can fly, they move with the freedom and elegance that the humanoids lack. They must be the spawn of the Gods!''


    Having a closer look at these small, yet majestic and long-tailed raptors.


    The talons of his own probably weren''t meant for climbing at all, but he simply did it because the option was available and it came to him instinctively.


    And so...


    Once he did jump upwards, he stuck his talons inside the wall once again. Progress made? 2 meters. Now he had to jump once again, and do it a second time. He did so. Progress? Another 2 meters. Now once again, and once again. Finally, a whole 6 meters worth of progress that had been made. How many more to go?


    It didn''t take much for him to gauge distance, it seemed to be around... 200-something meters vertically?


    Well, what was important was not his worry about getting up there, but dodging the houses and stairs on the way up, as well as not being seen through the windows.


    ...


    Finally, he''d dodged the last house as he was facing the next obstacle.


    He was looking straight down from 130 something meters up high, a distance that might''ve been like a few breaths away, but his actual panic was not due to the height, it was the actual distance of his jumps being so low. If he missed just ONE jump and was sent down scraping against the wall, the losses would cost him another hour of this stupid labor.


    An hour of laboring to shave off 100 meters. This was so... utterly boring. Why didn''t he just go back to the Tower? Or eat another meal? Or just explore town?


    ''Whatever! I already put myself through this stupid shit, I''ll get up there and battle the heavens... Alright!'' Clenching all his fists together to pump himself up, he said to himself, "Don''t let me fall down you four, I''m not even bothering to count them with this distance...".


    The distance between the talons had to be kept so it wouldn''t lose efficiency, he''d be damned if he lost this advantage that easily...


    ''...Right?'' So thinking, he positioned all his four talons, dug his feet and toes and... he jumped, again.


    Same old sound.


    Yeah, he wouldn''t be caught doing a barrel roll in the air anytime soon, not like this anyways.


    Alarmingly, his trajectory had altered to where he was going a little bit too low, a move that instantly caused him to fear his chance of falling. Not that it came true, though.


    For a millisecond, it looked like he fell at an alarming rate before suddenly putting his legs to work against the air and pushing through as he did before.


    Same speed, no complaints at this point.


    "Fuck! What is this? Mm. Whatever... I think... three... Two... One... Oh." It was way too fast of a reaction time and a response that he didn''t get to enjoy the speed of getting there.


    He was still lunging upwards and looking for a wall to cling on to. But there was ultimately nothing. He already surpassed the 200 meter boundary.


    "What a bothersome world." He commented.


    The surroundings of Onkhivol gave him a sense of ''Wow, I really lucked out here, huh?'' while he was still slowly gliding up high without knowing how much longer this would last. For this instance though... he felt as if he was a Godly creature, truly.


    To glide effortlessly through the air, experiencing the cool chill of the winds, feeling the oxygen increase in pressure and resistance, his nose taking in the scents of the higher layers of air as he made his ascension to the darkening sky, where the rest of the mites can only wish and pray to breathe one day. It was completely unlike anything he''d seen before...


    "Is this what that Eskra Goddess had always seen? What a sight... The sky was far larger and fuller than the entire civilization below it. Truly a shame that not only will they not listen... but those pathetic god-sent-bastards won''t recognize a soul."


    "Who''s this guy?"


    "Mommy! Mommy! What is that!?"


    "Uh? Sir? Are you lost?"


    Was it the darkened sky speaking to him? Was it a goddess calling out for him? Or was it simply the murmur of the darkness within him, finally speaking and surfacing without anyone noticing it?


    ...


    Slowly, his ascent and admiration of the world were interrupted by a bunch of people sitting and camping atop the walls of Onkhivol.


    ''Ah... The Wall Dwellers Onofre spoke of! Fuck, I forgot!''


    In a single instant, he saw one person, followed by a second, then a third, and the number multiplied. That was the pace he found those humanoid eyes fixated on him, though he still had the advantage of speed and landed (pretty hard) onto the top of the wall, making sure he''d hit nobody.


    What''s a soft-landing? Nobody knows and nobody cares.


    "Fuck! Ugh, wait?! Ouch!" A bunch of rocks scattered all over, a bit of pain spiked within his head as he fell face-flat on the rocky parts of the wall. The force that his head came crashing down definitely had left a dent; luckily the ground had cushioned his fall.


    Still hurt though.


    "S-sir... are you okay?" One of the wall dwellers approached him.


    "Augh.... Y-yeah, just give me... time, dammit." He groaned and put a hand to his mouth, or his upper face, or his nose, whatever part was feeling the impact for now.


    "Here, have this." The person walked back towards some huge tent that encompassed about 50 meters of the width of the wall and found a few items.


    Without having to inspect them, it was easy enough to figure out it was a piece of cloth, some rubbing alcohol and a light splash of what seemed to be water. It was also quite colder in temperature, almost freezing...


    "Thank y-" Splash. "EEEuuuu! Cold! Cool! What the hell is wrong with you?!"


    "S-sorry sir! Y-you just seemed to be in need of... uhm... A little bit of cleaning... You carry a s-s-stench and even b-being at the top of the w-wall... well..." The seemingly shy person offered.


    "No, just no, it''s... fine, just don''t use the cold water, damn it. What is this, like negative 10 degrees? In what fucking world do we have a temperature this low for bottled water?"


    "W-well, umm. I am so sorry s-sir..."


    "Stop apologizing. The ''Sir'' makes me think you''re about to suck my dick or something."


    His lower lip split while speaking and began bleeding a little bit, likely due to a bit of dryness that had set in during the climb, and the fall didn''t help.


    So the person offered to help with the rubbing alcohol, of course after using a bit of the wet rag, a very subtle soft-yellow type color, to clean off the smears of blood and dirt, such as his finger marks and some random debris around his body.


    "Alright, go at it then." He was not ready for the stinging that applied itself to the wound and pierced into his brain though. In his first instinctive reaction, he wanted to recoil, to put his other hand or many arms over, but he suppressed it as he just let the ''healing'' take place.


    Meanwhile the helping wall-dweller asked him, "W...What''s your name? Mr. Sir?"


    "Tsk." He made a sound at being called Sir again, "It''s Zabulus, call me a name similar to that and I''ll- Guh." The pain of the after-sting made him nearly bite his tongue.


    "S-sorry!! Ah-ah! Right! My n-name is Phronta... N-nice to meet y-you!" She quickly introduced herself as she bowed down in a curtsy.


    "Good. Are you done with the formalities? Because I still have places to see."


    "No, sir! You have to stay here until you heal fully!" Phronta replied to him.


    He looked at the other wall-dwellers for some sort of help against her, but they all sort of looked down in defeat.


    ''What is she, the shy-leader?'' "I was already in the process of healing myself, couldn''t you tell?"


    "Uhh.. M-maybe not physically..."


    "What does that even mean?"


    "Mm-Nothing!!"


    This kind of reaction had been unexpected.


    Knowing fully well it wasn''t going anywhere, he stood up and... lost his balance.


    "O-oh right, you''re obviously, probably, not healing from that fall completely." She reminded him.


    What a cheeky one.


    ''Why do I feel like this is the equivalent to what an old, injured, male dog feels like? She''s treating me like a damn puppy...''


    "H-here, sir... come with me and... And you''ll be up in n-no time..." She pointed towards the big tent... almost as if trying to soothe the irritated ''puppy'' by petting him.


    ''How does this one even live out here? I''ve never seen an Azkite before! Uuuu... What do I do, what do I do, what do I doooo? How can I even bring myself out of this mess!? What if... what if he kills everyone here!? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!''


    "Lower your voice, I can hear you from over here."


    "H-huh?!"


    ''Did I speak out loud? NO!!! Now he''ll definitely attack us and take everything we have! Wait... No... the White Queen would never allow for that to happen! OH, THANK THE BLESSED WHITE QUEEN THAT SHE IS! But if he''s here... then clearly she''s the one who allowed him to enter the kingdom! He came in from the inner walls after all... Ah...!''


    ''What a mess she has inside her.'' He could read into her thoughts as a part of his power somehow evolved into being more telepathic.


    The other wall-dwellers continued to indulge in their conversations and work, laundry and chores, weapons, arrows, ranged and archery stuff. They were no different than the people who lived in the city itself.


    No different...


    ...


    With how far these humans lived, it only got colder and colder. Probably way below -40 degrees in celsius from what his intuition was telling him.


    It was a given that without much sunlight the night would settle in once again.


    And slowly... The sky darkened as the fire torches and the campfire became more than the source of light. The people would see their breath crystallize and touch their shoulders, but they were unbothered, they''d gotten used to it; or at the very least, it was their ''norm''.

 Worms And Pies Can Make A Difference In Times of Desperation!

    The campfire seemed to spread its warmth as the residents of the nightly wall dwellers formed a perimeter around it for the sake of survival. Of course, most of them lived in small tents near the center of the walls, but some preferred sleeping bags and campfires as a source of light and heat. The contrast between the warmth of their breath and how cold each inhale was let them get another feel for the sky itself, even if the atmosphere was muddled and reeked of stale time.


    Nevertheless, how long they thought the night would last didn''t faze them anymore, rather, they were trying to stay together for warmth as opposed to going to their tents.


    This was just a part of the human bonding experience after all.


    Once the breeze began howling and the wind turned, things became even harsher.


    And harsher they liked it. Masochistic? Maybe. More efficient? Also maybe. There wasn''t a reason they liked the tough conditions of life after all, it was an unreasonable and unexplainable fixation that they had.


    Breathing at night became harder, even laying down became harder. Hell, feeling their bones rattling and their larynx having trouble opening its ventricles was hard enough. That would be the sort of exaggeration a guy would give during a play about the lives of the wall-dwellers, but to some extent it was true.


    These people may as well have just been nothing but masochists, can''t really make a simple explanation for them, despite what they thought. Perhaps, ''Their hearts are no longer with the central forces, the desire to lay low.'' would be the closest to a proper one.


    In the dark of the night... every tent was lit up with some sort of electrical energy. Some of these tents are even bigger than a normal house.


    "Who are you?" One of the dwellers with some sort of head lantern questioned Zabulus, having one of the resident tent leaders ask, "Why have you come, oh weary one? Are you coming to join us in fealty to the White Queen? Or perhaps you were misplaced when being judged by her?" He questioned him rather loudly.


    "That hair-changing woman? I''m afraid you misunderstand, my loyalty remains rooted to nothing and no one besides my own goals and motivations." He replied rather boldly.


    Of course, nothing could stop him from sounding like a dick when he put it that way, after all, why would someone with no masters have the privilege to be around here?


    "I won''t have you speaking nonsense about our beloved and just Queen, have some respect! The one and only who held this town under the safety net against the endless barrage of those corrupted beasts!"


    "Tell that to someone who cares, plus, I wasn''t badmouthing her or anything... She''s more of a..." He hesitated to say the word, but figured it''d be best if they had that idea instilled into them anyway, "...Friend, I guess... Well... maybe... well-acquainted is still better."


    "Excuse me!? She is our life and savior! You mean to say a man like you is her friend? I can only tolerate so many jokes, just which land are you a part of?" The hooded leader asked while rubbing his brown mustache.


    "Not any that I know of." He answered honestly.


    "P-please, sh-show some re-respect... And d-don''t fight! He-here! Food!" Phronta seemed to run around the corner as she brought something along in a dish, a warm pie of sorts, with a nice white... thing... moving around in it.


    ''That''s a whole lotta worms.'' He didn''t enjoy the sight of the branches or leaves of worms squirming around inside the pie as she held it out to him whilst looking away.


    "Uh... What is this?" Trying to mask his disgust at the sight of the Worm Pie was difficult, but ultimately... not that hard, rather he had to be polite since the worm pie did smell good, just didn''t look the part.


    "I-it''s our traditional f-first meal, the... First of Forty-Eight!! Th-th-they''re healthy meat worm pies m-made with our own hands a-and we share it w-with new members of the camps! M-make sure to eat your fill!"


    "Hold on a second!" A sweat broke out of the corner of his head, though frozen due to the weather, "Firstly, is that what you all eat? Second, I haven''t ever said a thing about joining this place!"


    "Huh?" The hooded leader took a step up, "Haven''t you come up here in order to join us? Was this not an order of the Scribes or the White Queen? Admittedly, I''ve not much reason to believe that somebody like you would actually want to join a group such as ours, it would be detrimental to both parties for two unfamiliar entities to get together like that, unless you''ve the utmost sincerity and patience to keep your tongue at bay and stomach cool under circumstances such as these."


    "You both- All of you have made a misunderstanding... I was just coming up here as a means to observe how the town''s scenery works. I was merely interested in whether I should stay here or explore the outer lands as a way to... how would I say it? Just to find interest in bettering myself. Those who live atop these walls I had assumed were exiles of sorts! I never thought there would be a bunch of scavengers left over in the very same home city." This was a natural confusion for him, seeing as most inhabitants of the wall-city lived indoors or below the ground while the outer wall survivors all came up to this point.


    "You wound us! We are no scavengers, we are the eyes of Onkhivol! Our eyes glaze around the full exterior of the horizon in order to watch for attacks from the Beasts and their hive mind! This is in obedience with our White Queen!"


    "Practically the same." He said sarcastically and deadpanned, before slapping his own forehead a second later to hide his comment.


    "You show signs of disrespect, what can a young man of your likeness do? What would our lord really want from the likes of you?" Slowly, his suspicion was rising.


    Zabulus immediately picked up on the tone of voice that was being displayed, "Hey, hey. Look, I''m not trying to start trouble here, right? So... just... Think. There''s no reason for us to devolve to this being a fight. Sure, I''m not exactly the politest guy in the world, and perhaps I came off the wrong way, so I apologize! Honest!"


    "Hm! Pah! Whatever it is, you have a lot more to explain than just a few misunderstandings and a lack of reasoning for your appearance here. Such little words would not make your case, no... not today, not tomorrow. You need a reason to convince us."


    ''Do I really need to make my case to these fucking dwellers? Why don''t I just leave and let it be? These are meaningless things, they should understand the weight of my presence alone. By all means I should just leave and drop the matter!'' He began convincing himself rather quickly, ''What a hassle, haggling like this... if this town is going to present me with such odd and stuck-up existences, I will not tread these grounds carefully any longer. I feel... insulted.'' His arms had tensed quite strongly after, as though an imaginary pulse had emanated from them and sent a message to his body that he''d begin a fight any second, after all... he understood full-well and did believe that now would''ve been the perfect time to show his power to these weak-minded and inferior beings.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "S-sir?! Please calm down... If-if he doesn''t trust y-you, w-we can take you to the inside walls... It''s o-okay if y-you c-can''t trust some of us! B-but we don''t need to start fights... a-at least not over this!" Phronta blurted out rather loud and quite worried, too.


    "Did I speak out loud?"


    "N-no, not at all, sir... I-it was just your face telling the story, that''s all."


    "What kind of mind-reading are you doing? And stop calling me ''sir''. To any of you."


    "I-I''m not mind reading... It''s just your f-face..." She looked down.


    "My face. Really? Then am I too obvious about everything? How unsightly, I''ll have to change that immediately." His answer did get her startled a little, but otherwise, he meant his words.


    "So, you wish to visit the inner walls? Is that what you will be doing? Well, with the limited provisions of time, I suppose the scribes have deemed you important enough to let you through. Then, Phronta shall show you the way tomorrow, I presume?"


    "Y-yes!!" She bowed slightly towards the hooded leader.


    "Mm...Why not today? I don''t see a problem with it, why not?" Zabulus asked.


    "You haven''t finished the First of Forty-Eight, so... It will take you a while to adjust to the cold of tonight. Eat up, you''ll be needing it."


    "Eat... that worm pie? With a room packed with a bunch of strangers I hardly know at all and a cold that can bury me twice over? I''ll have to politely decline."


    "Then I fear we cannot fulfill your journey until after you have eaten the First of Forty-Eight. It is our tradition as the outer wall-dwellers to serve the first meal to newcomers and as to share our struggles with those we have yet to meet. Plus... As I have said, it will be very much needed to be able to stomach the First of Forty-Eight. Each following meal after those forty-seven will lessen the difficulty in being able to tolerate the cold wind, so... Otherwise you will not live a second in the inner wall. Understand?"


    "Hm." With a contemplative sound escaping his throat, he agreed to eat it, but... not sure of how serious his willingness to participate was.


    "Don''t think about running away from this either. If one had betrayed the walls, the wrath of the Queen will punish you, perhaps send some of those corrupted beast-hearts and have you devour them whole, not a single person has ever managed to live past the first bite, least of all an honorable try."


    There was a look on his face that appeared confused as the hooded leader spoke about eating the Amalgamate hearts. Surely eating that was not a killer for most. He ate a variant of them before; so why couldn''t others? At least according to this man, it wasn''t possible. "How did you make them try to do that, or why? Is it like your coming of age?"


    "Ahahah!" Laughter spread amidst them, they mocked him as he knew nothing. But could they blame him? He was a newcomer to these lands, "Anyone who says they will leave our home base shall try. Once you dedicate yourself to this faction, there is no place to turn back. And if the outer walls weren''t enough for you to want a welcome, then the inner walls will definitely repulse you!"


    ''So, they''re saying that even if I leave today, they will make me eat those hearts again? Or... is it that if I don''t eat, then I''m one of those guys to be a detriment... What''s the harm in it? I''m sure Onofre wouldn''t stop me from doing what I want after all. I''ll bite the bullet and go with it.'' Taking a piece of the worm pie, he moved it close to his mouth.


    Slowly and steadily, before gulping the pie into his mouth.


    There was a moment where the majority began to watch as this forlorn man try to fit a mouth-full of their signature food, a genuine smile visible on their faces as they expected a regurgitation.


    Their smiles were so strong as to become laughs. Smiles that reached their eyes.


    And he laughed, as the worms within his mouth began thrashing about. And he chewed, as he began savoring the flavor with his tongue and palate. With the sounds of a man enjoying every bit of his meal, albeit making rather soft sounds so as to not irritate others. He never made any other noise besides the occasional ''Hm''.


    Quite pleased, perhaps the outsider didn''t seem all that bad.


    After some time, he had finished it, with only a single piece remaining and so it did lay. Without a single issue, without a single hesitation, he gobbled up the entire thing. Despite Phronta''s scrambling thoughts of urging him to stop before he pushes himself too far; he swallowed every worm and did not blink once. (He can''t)


    "Eh? D-don''t eat the c-crust..." A sweat slipped on Phronta''s cheek.


    Of course, everything was full of worms, and not just the insides. Even the crust was made of worms!


    It was... a sight to see.


    For them, it was usual that a man would beg them to cut his tongue off. To wail and destroy their bodies. Some would even attempt suicide via biting their own tongues or shoving their fingernails through their throats.


    None have not tried yet.


    Yet here he was. Eating the food... not hating it... not... wanting to vomit and cry about being tortured.


    "Man, that was a good one! Now that I know what the actual taste is, I wouldn''t mind eating another one, maybe a size smaller though, is that alright?" He had a smile on him and enjoyed the moment, ''What a fucking shame! After tasting this, I''d be a damn fool to refuse myself more! Haaahah! That... the Queen sure does know her thing if this is the kind of life her people lead.''


    It was warm, somehow, despite the cold air, the flame was present in his stomach.


    "..." The hooded leader kept his silence at Zabulus'' actions.


    "Hahaha! You''re crazy, man!" One of the wall dwellers complimented him on his bravery.


    "I''ve never seen someone eat their food in one bite!" Said one of the younger ones.


    "Thank... you?" He replied awkwardly.


    "Isn''t it delicious?" Another one spoke rather loudly to catch his attention.


    "Why yes... It was, somewhat." So Zabulus replied once again, this time looking at one of the youths at the farther corner.


    They seemed genuinely happy to see Zabulus do this, perhaps he didn''t understand the seriousness of the act itself... but for a bit he figured that he could let himself be showered in a bit of attention.


    They sang praises and hymns in their own accord.


    625 days and not a single soul has joined them in that time; they felt as if it was almost like celebrating a festival.


    To the outside beholder... Yes, they did act a bit crazed, but there was nothing wrong in lacking sanity. It simply meant your shackles were loosened by being granted freedom. And their definition of Freedom was the ability to eat even the First of Forty-Eight.


    "I can''t believe someone would accept that willingly...!" The hooded dweller said as his jaw clenched. He felt his eyes well up with tears, something he couldn''t hold back.


    "Hm? Why are you guys suddenly all emotional?" Zabulus felt as if the reaction was even a bit too much... and weird.


    This seemed to signal something to them.


    An elderly woman came close and took a bow. Tears still down her face as she did so, "Don''t move... young man..."


    "N-no! Grandma, h-he''s still a stranger! D-don''t! I won''t be able to apologize if he ends up-"


    Woooosh.


    "Uwak?!" Zabulus quickly leaped in the air; his reflexes managed to take control. If not for that, perhaps things would''ve ended up extremely dire here.


    An arrow had embedded itself firmly in the ground where he was standing before, sending splinters and gravel all over his right leg.


    ''That old hag is wielding a bow and firing it at me, for what?!''


    "Young man... it appears that you are the best of luck for our people!" She said as she started clapping. "You not only lived through the taste of our most valued first meal, but you had the bodily strength to actually let it take effect as soon as you ate it! We believe in you! We all do!"


    "As interesting as that is... I''d have appreciated a heads-up if you''re about to fucking shoot me." Trying to hide his tensed nerves, he casually replied.


    "We didn''t expect that you would live through the first meal, less stay standing once you did. But if you ask, then you can borrow this entire tent! Sleep soundly there tonight if that is what you''re willing to do for us."


    ''This may just be my best shot...'' He thought about it, hoping for a way to get a good night''s sleep was important, even more so if he wouldn''t have to make camp in this cold.


    "Of course, if you don''t mind me. Plus, I''d hate to try and be frozen outside... but, how can you confirm that your protection won''t waver during the night?"


    "Simply put, the Wall itself protects us! The power of the Forty-Eight does! We are all one, always and forever... Just as you¡¯ll know. From this night onwards, our family has grown thanks to you, welcome."

 Do You Want the Benevolent Answer or the Morbid One?

    626.


    That was the amount of days. Not months, nor years, mind you. Because only a year will pass, and it has to be at least twenty years in the temporal stream before anything is bound to start changing.


    We''re stuck here. Bound to these walls, bound to our Queen, bound to our brotherhood and sisterhood, and as a family we will die.


    She told us to. She said that without us, not even the scribes will be able to defend against the masses of the corrupted beasts. The land needed soldiers. And even if we never fought, we were its most important material: wood. Wood could easily build a shield, it could easily build a house''s foundation, a bed frame, or table. We knew this. Those who were not made and taught by this land should forget about living here.


    I didn''t know anyone who was born outside of here. That was the nature of our lands and its people, much too proud, much too stiff to come along and accept anything unknown, less welcome outsiders into their homes and lives.


    Onkhivol thrived this way, no longer will any of us fall to outside attackers, nor inside or below; the moment someone does not have a place in the world is the moment they should discard their morals, their beliefs, and join us.


    We could raise their consciousness after they''ve eaten the first meal. We won''t allow another one of us to leave ever again. Not now, nor ten thousand years later.


    Please.


    No one will betray me, no one will betray us.


    Our eyes have strayed from the true ideals of the world.


    What a sad thing it is.


    A person couldn''t be held responsible for when the world decides to forsake them.


    Our only love in life is the One and Only White.


    ...


    "Have you lost your damn mind?! A story is a form of art, boy! Put it together properly or I won''t read this at all! You''ve gotten way ahead of yourself! You haven''t even settled the story''s plot yet! And you think I''ll read some garbage like that?!" A man of old had yelled out towards an imperfect story being written by young hands. Those hands were capable and swift, but not enough to produce the right material.


    "But... you''re right about the blood and gore part... To get the job right you can go closer to the abdomen and work to the lower intestines where they sort of slide around a lot, it''s not flexible since the connective tissues of the brain contain more liquid than blood which cause it to be more flaccid in feeling, almost as if like a sponge if held in dry air. You''re going to want to have the abdominal cavity mostly hollow-looking, not filled to the brim with blood, and can insert weapons up to three inches away from the lumbar area. There are also lots of veins and capillaries near the wall and diaphragm if you wish to puncture a small amount of blood." The old man''s tone suddenly changed as he went into details about the materials he''d be working with, obviously knowledgeable about the matter.


    "Ah... I''m sorry mister... I just haven''t written a thing in so long that... It kind of slips my mind what wording to use!" The youth''s smile was wide. He couldn''t help it, he was just nervous.


    "And if you''re so GODDAMN sorry then write the DAMN BOOK! I want an unnecessarily great amount of detail! Don''t think of letting one slip past my attention. This is a special order for a special buyer, I''m paying you a big amount for this, remember!? Don''t disappoint!" The loudness of the words pierced through the empty-aired city of the inner walls.


    The bookstore owner had heard of the youth''s talents, and since business had been slacking, he offered the writer a share in his profits.


    This was an underdeveloped world that had forgotten the wonders of the original stories and fairy tales. Nobody read stories anymore, everyone was just content on merely getting information from the outer-dwellers, and a chunk of those people were no better than rabid mongrels.


    ''His skin is white, and his eyes are blue, he has medium length hair... and it looks perfect. It always feels... soft, oh! And his cheeks are rosy, of course! That''s great, but his hair color would be...''


    Wham!


    The door slammed open, revealing a hooded man, a woman and a black figure in behind.


    The youth immediately recognized the robed clothing of the two in front of the black figure; clothing that signifies whether one is from the inner or outer walls. "S-sir... and... madam? And... thing?"


    The boy was speechless, but he knew the inner-walled folk shouldn''t have anything to do with the outer-walled, especially not if there was no message beforehand.


    In fact, the timing made him believe that his life was about to be cut short, after all. The White Queen had her preferences leaning towards the outer-walled... ''maybe?'' It may not have necessarily been a surprise, after all, but one was hopeful.


    Hope was necessary.


    To want the Queen''s unattended attention was like wanting a bird to hatch, except where the mother gives the child food directly into its mouth; in hopes of the said child eventually being independent.


    He felt the cold winds freezing the atmosphere. Even if they were inside, and a lantern was dully glowing atop a desk, its heat was unbearable, this was where the hooded man stepped closer and...


    Greeting the youth.


    "Hello, fellow wall-dweller, I know I have come here uninvited and all. But this is a part of my duty as a leader and¡ªsorry... sometimes I word my sentences a bit too well. What I came here for was something more direct. The man behind us two is someone willing to join the inner-walls, or at least visit them.


    "H-h-huh?! You mean to say... he ate and lived through the First of Forty-Eight?! Wow... how amazing, that''s something that no one in almost two years since it''s been prepared could. Most would usually drop down dead a few hours later once the effects begin taking a serious toll on their bodies... I-I mean... sorry, I got carried away. But, I''m not sure where our leader is- He''s the only one who has the power to grant entry, and I''m just someone writing books down here..."


    The hooded leader looked around for a bit, just to notice that this place was stacked with only three books, maximum.


    ''Phew, this place must have close to no business. Well, none that would be enough to become the place''s main income, at least.'' Zabulus thought this was a shame, but everyone had some set of problems in this world anyway, so he was likely bound to come across something like this if he kept making these huge detours back to his world.


    "So... I''m telling you... There is no one in here who could help you, even I couldn''t! Y-you see... our leader is the only one with that power and he hates everyone from the outside." The youth shied down again.


    "And I''m coming here as the leader of the outer-walls! So, he should be able to be reasoned with, at least." The man turned to the person behind him, "Right, Thing?"


    "Who are you calling thing, and why are you asking me, god damn it?" Zabulus sounded angry and a bit reluctant; the sudden exclamation made Phronta shriek as if by reflex.


    "W-Wah! P-please don''t fight... Not in h-here... or anywhere... or! Or w-why did you two f-fight in the first place?!" She hurriedly cut in. The sight of Zabulus looking frustrated scared her even more.


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    "We don''t have time for this, actually... I''ve decided that I''ll go and find your stupid leader myself. I''m sure the Queen will be even more excited if I come with a new addition. Plus, this will make this whole process ten times easier rather than asking around at at-risk businesses like this."


    "Huh?" The youth felt a pang of humiliation. But he needed to keep his professionalism! This was his very first job and his passion had slowly started to waver... Plus, his sanity.


    "Y-You... where do you think our leader is? Or do you want us to take you there, since you don''t look much like a person capable of finding-"


    "Oh? I definitely cannot do it. How could a weak-kneed little boy with noodle arms as yours lead anybody around town, huh?!"


    "..." They expected another apology to leave the boy''s mouth, but instead what the boy did was retort with "Then why are you here?! Go out and find him if you want to get shit done yourself."


    ...


    Unpredictable was the best word to describe this new factor.


    Those who held self-interest in mind were all the same. So what are those whose morals were not held dear, the ones who didn''t have an ounce of selfishness left in them, left to do besides to take over the world...?


    They wouldn''t do that. Not the way it can be seen.


    No. No! Of course not.


    Because the way they could see is the truth. Nothing is truer than what their eyes present to them, it''s all just so flawless, the way the universe works.


    Their Queen decided to bring her world''s vision, albeit gradually, through her warriors. What was the meaning of existence, if not to become a glorious instrument for the will of someone greater. The ideal goal, if not to follow this path with glee, as though being given love by a mother that was pure.


    If she has lost something; and surely she has, and not a single person could right her wrongs... then we will get back to square one and try it all over again until she has a successor.


    "There is no point to living in a world without a ruler, now, isn''t that ''right''?" The old bookseller who received no answer because of the lack of presences surrounding him, looked almost lonely, and that, oh the most foul of them all, made him feel scared, left out and as if an invisible cold hand was holding onto his throat, threatening to push him down and choke him until his eyes began popping.


    Slowly, ever so slowly. The quietness washed over him.


    He finally spoke: "No. Certainly not."


    Rationality takes over. Sanity, over the unreasonable.


    The old man could not believe the words he had said, ''say it again!?''


    He felt that his teeth were about to fall out any moment, cold shivers would accompany him every day now, just like that. It scared him.


    "Hahaha..." The old man could not help but laugh, even as the pain reached his bones.


    Nothing seems right to him at that moment.


    Not now and not before. Three; there were three people here. He approaches and they''re all gone, the only person left being a young boy.


    How could he sleep with his eyes open?


    Something was not right. There wasn''t a day on this land where another unknown, strange and forlorn man would enter here without having lived through the First of Forty-Eight.


    Perhaps, then, he must have come from a distant land faraway.


    A land where their Queen''s name had no power to it, no recognition. It was no longer easy; they had to reach their elusive leader somehow before that man arrived there; perhaps the inner-walled dwellers did not realize it now. But this old man certainly did.


    He did know what would happen if that outer wall dwellers were to present such a potential threat to their leader. Were they out of their minds? Completely. Their existence may well have been nothing more than a speck of dust. And a single speck could be the eye of a thousand, countless amounts of creatures could see a single side of their true faces in a moment in time.


    That is why the ''Eyes of Onkhivol'' were always in pursuit.


    Not by The White Queen, but by each and every single one of us.


    ...


    ''Just as time stops, hearts slow, and the eye-lids become heavier, I bid thee; traveler, come sit beneath my window and listen to a tale as old as us.''


    A girl spoke.


    Even if the party of 3 was currently strolling through without paying mind to much of anything; however, one of the members felt chills running down their spine.


    Zabulus.


    ''She spoke to me, I couldn''t imagine why. I didn''t think someone would speak to a perfect stranger; sitting there alone with those wilted flowers beside her. Nothing is moving, the night''s wind is still, and no matter how I try to look for it, the silence is the only thing I hear. She whispers of the dreams she''s seen, and the life she lives. I sense every feeling, all wrapped into my mind, but the empty soul I''ve known for so long is only getting emptier, the feeling of loss and grief re pouring over me now. Even in her world of gold and silver, my body cannot rest or lift a finger. A warm red cloth holds me up into something else, something that is not entirely human, nor Godly... These great mangled, misshapen flesh-covered hands were not the same ones I saw just a moment ago covering my vision, making me go blind in the snowstorm. Why did it hurt? The snowstorm went away. I was back where I was a second ago, safe and with two people that call me family. This is where I should be now. Now? Is this them anymore?''


    "You do not see the same two you once saw; what you''re seeing is a fading after-image of their past in time, which shall soon be gone. Did you know? That there can be no still soul in time. None without the power of Vespara, the God of Time. I took interest in you, Azkite." A certain deranged sounding; yet elegant looking crimson woman with sharp fangs spoke to Zabulus.


    It smelled of stale time and space, yet somehow he could breathe in this crooked realm of nothing that he was in.


    "The world does not know what state you are in; thus you are safe to move as it figures out whether you are truly inside this space or not." Her voice was low and sultry, almost seductive. "But, you see, there is nothing to do, there is no one to know, there is nowhere to be, and there is no one to know. What''s your name, Azkite?"


    "..."


    Zabulus did not answer. He stared at the body, the woman''s and the crimson locks, the familiar dark gray, her feminine appearance, and her gentle hands stroking his face. "Isn''t that just nostalgic? You''re seeing the state of the world where it was before we came back from the ashes. Don''t you wish you could have... been there? This is the blessing of Vespara''s Ardour, and its curse. You may go backwards in time, but you will never find any living being. Don''t you find the facts interesting?" She spoke with a tone of great interest and enthrallment.


    "The supreme insanity of time does not abide by the rules of the logical, and who are you? I''m trying to be calm... but, where are the people I was with?"


    "Would you really call that being calm, or are you just hiding behind a mask of indifference because of the horrible deaths and carnage you had witnessed? Everything I say is wrong to you. Because you do not listen." She started levitating; as if there was no gravity around and spun all around him. "I am an acolyte of Vespara, the embodiment of time. The flow of time does not start now, nor does it start when the origin of the flow ends. It simply connects and unites together into a singularity."


    Suddenly, as if a black hole burst forward, it connected to the endless cosmos of time and the flow was re-started... Except not so much the world.


    Her realm had its own separate time, and she refused to give any details, except... "The name''s Avtarus. Try to live for twenty more years, and we may meet again... what did she call you? L~a~m~b~!" She gave a kiss from afar as she walked around a corner and everyone appeared next to him in a ''blink''.


    "God! W-What''s wrong with you, p-playing with us like some sideshow c-circus!" Phronta stepped away from Zabulus and breathed a few more times, relieved to see him appear again, but questioning where he went to in the first place.


    "Almost thought you got lost or killed there, Kid, cause this map of the inner walls ain''t on just yet, and the people here have shut most entrances to the inner city. My compass also went nuts." The hooded leader took the compass out and gave a strong nod, "Looks like nothing was broken after all. Good. Wasn''t looking forward to any of the locals going into a grumpy mood because of the outsider they were tasked to escorting around."


    "Ah... did... any of you see that woman?"


    "h-h-huh?"


    "Woman? You gon'' go act'' like that and look for some ass?"


    "No no, she was weird, though. Probably. She was talking about time being frozen and-"


    "Kid, you thinking straight, or are we gonna have to think you drank? Is that why you were gone for a couple of minutes?"


    "...yes, I''m sober, and yes, my thoughts are definitely straight." Zabulus retorted in confidence, giving his best straight face possible to say. But that did nothing to impress the hooded man, who was instead shaking his head.


    To Zabulus. That encounter was not exactly the strangest thing he''d ever experience, and from the looks of the current time period, many things may have happened while he was gone. If he believed what Avtarus told him...


    Then everything is just connected, much too vague, and never an answer of what the goal was. Still. For him, nothing was out of place. People were as normal and the behavior a human exhibited was almost always more than predictable.


    ...or as many say, their behavior couldn''t be that complicated. They wouldn''t be able to make many more moves or do other things besides staying in their comfort zone, which was the only thing stopping them from doing anything.


    "We''re almost there. Keep a steady pace. It''s the big building at the end of the corner here."


    At the end of the day, he figured that something or someone was out to get him. For why? He didn''t know. And most likely, never would know before they foolishly kill him again.

 The World is A Piece Of Rotting Flesh

    Well.


    In Zabulus'' case, the next place they arrived at did indeed seem like that.


    A big building. The words coming straight out of his mouth, a ''dump.''


    Somehow, even at the worst of times, his instincts never wavered or misled him into the dangerous zones of existence. So with his luck intact, and his ever piling tension, he tried to ask the hooded leader; "Where do we go from here? Why are we standing outside this shithole of a ''place?''."


    Agh, he couldn''t help but let his tongue spill out the truth with an attitude! Now he had to hear about his disrespectfulness and all that. And of course, before even counting himself in, there was also Phronta to tell him how he was being inconsiderate. With a bunch of stutters and shaky words.


    Yet, and with this oddness spreading across his body, this unshakable sense of core groundlessness kept bothering him. It had been there for the past few minutes as they were walking¡ªever since he met Avtarus¡ªperhaps.


    Even when he looked around or when the sound of the wind was so soft that it should not even be seen as wind, the gentle cold would spread throughout.


    ''I really hope you understand, Lamb. There was no coincidence in that woman''s appearance. Belligerent or not, the strength you carry within your heart- That can never, and will never be hidden from those who can read minds and hearts; and you, I''m sure... will become a legend or a nightmare to everyone in this world''s memory.''


    ''And will you just get it over with, as well!? To think you won''t shut up for once in ever, just because we''re in the same body, just because our hearts are connected!'' Zabulus lashed out at his inner voice.


    ''Do you not see my words beyond their scintillating depths? Human minds are forever incomplete; I am made up of everything, while being made up of just you. Shouldn''t you be wiser for your age, in realizing this? I''ve always been with you.''


    ''Then why, just why must you call me by that same name that the filthy corpse does too!?''


    ''Zaig¡ö, I''m afraid myself, but the person who called you in such a billowy way. Ah, it would have brought me to tears...''


    ''Stop trying to piss me off... just talking to you sends spikes through my teeth! Hurry up, already!''


    ''Huh? Was he going mad, himself? Oh wait, yeah. He was. From the very beginning... There was a boy and a tree...''


    ''And you don''t have to bring up old stories, what the fuck did you appear to tell me anyways!?''


    ''I told you what I told you. There are no coincidences here. You''re a variable, and no matter how many times you try to escape the equation, it will always pull you back in. You already broke one prophecy by not following the dead girl''s words... And to break another is to alter fate in its entirety, and not to mention, you even brought another God''s Attention. What was it? Vespara... and the other one was?''


    ''...''


    ''Eskra, was it? Perhaps they will hold no hostility... Maybe. But I am no fortune teller, and don''t bother expecting me to answer all your questions. It''s not my job as the voice of reason to provide the answers and to protect the one I took advantage of.''


    "S-s-sir?! W-we''ve arrived at the l-location and!" Phronta squeaked.


    "...Shit! Didn''t even notice." Zabulus suddenly came back to his senses as the voice was cut off by her.


    "What was that!? That''s some disrespectful behavior we''re hearing from an outsider!" An old man said from the doors of the big building, "Any more of this from your lot and-"


    "Calm down Strophon, it''s me, Kilgore."


    "Oh? It''s you? What have you been up to- Nevermind that! Who''s this disrespectful Azkite bastard? Look at him, he''s not from around here either!"


    "Calm down. We don''t mean no harm here, rather, you need to think! How else is someone down here if you don''t recognize them?" Kilgore walked forth.


    "You mean to say..."


    "You''re getting older. Maybe it''s time someone replaces you. But, yes."


    "Haha, I''m soon-to-be retired! Ah, I should''ve gotten it now. He ate the First of Forty-Eight! Are you fucking crazy kid!? Are you trying to eat yourself and die!?"


    Zabulus could still hardly speak. The remnants of anger were all that was left, and combined with the fatigue he felt-


    "Shit, kid, those side-effects must really be getting to you, huh? You''re probably feeling like vomiting! Come, we should head in!"


    Zabulus did not retort against his claims. Maybe those symptoms really did come from the First of Forty-Eight. But there really were two things he wasn''t feeling. If they weren''t things he''d feel, then...


    He quickly grabbed onto his right eye socket and gripped as hard as he could, but he couldn''t feel a thing. And when that was not the case, the lack of nausea got him concerned.


    ''....!'' A voice tried to break through.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ''.........!'' Again, this attempt;


    Until he could not hear another ring as his hands continued clasping harder and harder. And were now beginning to spill a small pool of blood.


    As if time was still, and even as the gushing river began taking form.


    ''.....''s....''s....''


    Finally, the voice rang with sharp volume this time.


    "...Queen be damned! What happened to your eyes!?" Strophon backed away in horror.


    ''..........''s..........'' A voice he knew... ringing deeply within his soul, there was nobody else he knew...


    There was someone, someone he knew and saw terrible things with, things of flesh; terrible things from Eskra, a man who once killed him...


    Vetro''s voice came from the seas of his soul. But it was not the right time for it. He had to push it down, as if saying ''Later, later!''


    Kilgore spoke, "Huh? You''re not being serious now are you? At any rate, this isn''t anything new. Azkites come with no eyes, ain''t ever seen one before, Strophon?"


    "G-Goddess! Yes, true. But, that blood! Look!" Strophon seemed to be out of himself again. He didn''t have to worry.


    A girl had stepped out from behind the stairs. She was wearing a flimsy dress and had golden wavy hair. When Kilgore noticed the look and got his attention away from Strophon, she asked: "Will that new friend of yours come here?"


    "What. Oh- No, wait!" That exchange also ended in a flash, and, very suddenly.


    All that occurred had faded away just as quickly as everything came to a standstill, a wave of calming blue washed over, just like the sea-blues in the ocean and this water began covering his skin.


    "Who...?" There she was, the golden-haired woman in front of Zabulus. As if healing his soul, the blood came rushing out back inside.


    "I am the Third and final child, Tecinrah of the Inner walls, and my third nature is what you behold of now." Her smiting beauty was not covered or concealed by any means. Not even as the dress wavered down the top of her body, showing more of what a man desired. "This is the only place where your vision may be blessed- Perhaps for longer, a moment, or sooner, until this is where you belong... But yes, don''t hesitate any longer. Leave your wounds or mental suffering to the sacredness of the world."


    Zabulus wasn''t one to be smitten by pretty faces- Nor the way they moved and danced, giving a vibe of playfulness. Rather, as a man, he believed the opposite. Though it didn''t strictly apply for women; but for everyone. That they are vicious predators with second intentions. In these vile worlds and in their filthy existence, all he heard; no matter who was speaking, was always ''give and take'', just like anybody.


    "Yes... Thank you for your healing and all, but what do you want from me now? And why are you here?"


    She cocked her head in confusion, just barely. "Oh, no... you misunderstand, I don''t wish to take anything. But I must say- Why is it? I wanted to touch an Azkite''s soul and metaphysical form for so long~ It''s just so calming, so bewitching~!"


    Tecinrah''s soft-pink lips were shaped up for the better part of the tone, in an adorable and cheerful way, like someone would who spoke with their friends or the ones they loved. A friendly but at the same time an almost completely one-sided love.


    Phronta gazed into their conversation, she looked happy that Zabulus didn''t refuse being healed and further helped by her elder sister. She gave them an inch of personal space, as if too shy.


    "Your friends should go meet our other sibling. It was a pleasure meeting you, Azkite. Thank you Phronta and Sir Kilgore for granting me the most pleasing of today''s memories." She looked even more beautiful, shining radiantly as she walked back in with an elegant pace.


    Zabulus had to look away, even the moon or a star would be a better sight for him, but for all things! He was in the damn inner-walls!


    The air wasn''t that bad here, despite it being such a quarantined place, in the middle of a wall as if a ravine-city.


    Zabulus gave a long sigh, he knew himself better than anyone else, yet-


    "The most pleasing experience in a person''s life is not the first time you meet those close, it''s always the memories after..."


    ''Tell me about it, just end this and push everyone back from your damnation, for your fate will only lead the tides, for the wave of change will wash all away. Even the wretched ones would move on for the next ride... Or else you''ll fall in deeper.'' Something deep in Zabulus'' core sparked a wave of thoughts that were not his own.


    Perhaps those words were his true self trying to surface, but it was likely beneficial to keep it down, otherwise he''d lose Onofre''s favor, too.


    However, he couldn''t help but become doubtful as the darkness he envisioned became lighter by every step he took in this place. It was not quite a utopia by any means. But something began becoming undone within him, something fundamental. As if it was being awakened, or changed, or maybe both.


    Still, he was almost forced; if not by choice to follow these people.


    ''If only I didn''t randomly climb that damn wall!''


    ''Waaaah... He has a scary expression on his face... Should I go talk to him?'' Phronta thought, but as if sensing her next actions, Zabulus held his arms out.


    ''Arrogant! Angry! Abusive! Triple A''s! And most of the words start with an A!''


    "S-sir?"


    "Nothing. Don''t worry." He brushed her off like dust off a shelf.


    "Oh come on, Kid. Don''t act like that. You''re still walking in unknown territory, have some slack. Here''s some slack." Kilgore said, justifying his actions before, which only got Zabulus to look in displeasure. "Maybe don''t act like a bitch right now. It''s the best you can do, eh?"


    "What bitchy thing did I do? I merely held my arms out in frustration. Perhaps you should learn not to assume things, and have more sense on your side than making up shit..." Zabulus commented, "Or maybe you need to get the gears in your head turning before doing anything stupid."


    Somewhere... somehow, he was acting like a delinquent at this moment. Somewhere? Maybe with a hint of wisdom. Something in this place was off, the inside completely contrasted the outside in a way that most would say is an impossibility.


    The outside, all rocky and with houses made of metal sheets and/or wood, the people were instead wearing royal robes and hoods that came straight from a very fairytale-like story.


    It was as if a group of nobles came together to start living in a poor and under-developed place, expecting it to become just as wonderful as their noble city, but alas, the people of such a place were ill, or, infected. They were all broken, and beaten, and had no use other than serving the rich, and at the worst of times were to be considered living trash-bags of trash...


    The people within the inner wall were normal, more normal than those on the outer wall, at least.


    The inside of this big building was even bigger than wha the outside promised to be, yet looking up, he saw chandeliers and gold embedded on the marble architecture, for some reason, chipped, but still well decorated with a sense of a ''rich guy''s apartment'', nonetheless.


    In here, the light from the chandeliers never dimmed, and the place didn''t smell like dust or mold at all, if anything it held a very gentle sweet, fresh and clean smell.


    Everyone in the room, there was Strophon... and only Strophon here, seated on a throne, appearing weak and like he was about to throw up. Yet, just at this moment, he was completely unable to hold on anymore... and immediately retched.

 Another Place, Another Time, And Another Me

    Zabulus was already convinced. Without question, he concluded it himself...


    That these people cannot be taken seriously, not after the display of such debauchery. Did they not have dignity? What kind of Nobleman-like king leader person was this... to vomit in front of guests? So sloppy.


    Tsk. Tsk, too much disappointment. Way too much... The more time passed, the more he was convinced that it was not worth it to climb up that wall in the first place.


    It came to a point where he started missing Onofre''s playfulness. Hell, even being in the presence of a hundred cultists would''ve been way better than this disappointment of a day... To have one''s beliefs dashed, expectations abandoned, and disgust taken to a whole new level.


    He almost snapped out of consciousness as the seconds passed. Almost.


    "...Apologies... I... have aged somewhat and cannot properly welcome guests," Strophon said while trying to collect himself.


    Before anyone could respond, he waved his hand, not the royal majestic type, but more in a carefree, unofficial tone, one could expect from an uncivilized king.


    And a big wooden door then opened revealing some sort of a luxurious bar or restaurant...


    Behind it, were two girls that looked more innocent than Phronta did¡ªthey were close to this type of innocence; as if seeing through one''s intentions.


    "Welcome, Sir Strophon, Kilgore and the others." Both girls greeted while they closed the door.


    "Thank you very much." Kilgore expressed his gratitude, a warm and inviting smile, as they sat in the first class chairs.


    "The hell is this? Why are we in some run-of-the-mill hooker joint...?" Zabulus muttered to himself, but still noticed the awkwardness that Kilgore had a hold of.


    "Kid. I thought they told you already."


    "The hell are you talking about?"


    "Weren''t you listening? Strophon is about to initiate you into the inner wall society, and that this is going to be a big part of it." Kilgore stated.


    "Look. You guys are wasting my time. I wasn''t even meant to be here, you know? That being said, I also don''t care whether or not I get initiated into whatever sick cult you have going around here, so if that''s all you have to tell me, take me back to the original place we were in, I need to go meet someone."


    They all stared at him as if a mad man. If one were to hear that from him and not know who he was. Then he might as well have been insane, perhaps worse, since he didn''t understand how grave his circumstances were.


    To the extent that they would''ve killed him on the spot, had it not been for the fact that he was the first in over a year to join their ranks.


    "S-s-sir! Please calm down... " Phronta became flustered, then continued to speak in an awestruck tone, "T-th-this has been your dream, right? Y-you can''t just leave the society after e-eating the First of F-forty-Eight! It would be t-total betrayal!! A-and... The White Queen w-would be displeased... T-there will be no turning back! P-please reconsider and j-just go a-along with things f-for a while longer..."


    "......Agh." Zabulus felt his mind almost torn. What was this girl''s deal? All she did was stutter the whole way around him. From their brief interaction, she hadn''t done anything other than stutter.


    "We would advise you to reconsider your actions in your first encounter with our people, Azkite. Because what we desire most is equality. Some may hate us for this, and there are more complexities, but the point of this is; once you are accepted here, you will have no ties to the outside world any longer." The two girls said in sync.


    "Aren''t you a bit too early to speak that far ahead in the process? I never even agreed to do anything yet."


    "Who or what you are is enough to be deemed worthy in this sacred place." They replied, "Maybe by entering this room, you would begin to see what it means to be freed."


    In that instant, Zabulus clenched his fist as the sight of the view changed. The marble floor which was like a mist had washed away, a breeze began circling within, making everything so tense... Even though they did not have a chance to speak, the air was too depressurized that Zabulus felt as if someone''s heartbeat was somehow stuck in his throat, and it was so uncomfortable he wanted to scratch out his esophagus and throw it away.


    "Sir, do not resist or we will take no responsibility for you life."


    "You''re all getting ahead of yourselves, or you''re truly getting desperate. I''m not a foreigner to these things, so don''t try to indoctrinate me. I''m the last person you want to be doing this shit to, I will kill every single one of you if you don''t stop." Zabulus warned. "But, give me one good reason why I should stay or listen."


    "You will have everything you need after being accepted by the leader himself, sir. Please do not raise tensions unnecessarily."


    "Ah. Is that so?" He paused, "Then maybe I can have a big ball of hair-covered skin hanging over the roof." In a bad fashion of joking, Strophon took it seriously and told them.


    "Go on and get him a ball of hair-covered skin."


    He regretted giving such an example. He did not think anybody could be this dim in the head, "Are you taking me for a joke? Hell, are you even of a sentient species? Do not mistake me as stupid, because in this dire situation, in which I will not stand down... That''s when blood is allowed to flow.."


    "Kid," Kilgore said, "Please watch your mouth and know who you are talking to. You may be the first Azkite here. And seeing your potential through whatever display you showed earlier; it''d be a great shame to lose you as an ally here. But trust me, you''re lucky... It was only a little more ago that we had that one outbreak where the people of the innermost city walls killed at all."


    "Then I fucking dare you to kill me. I''m done here." Turning around, and striding towards the door was the action which gave a sense of ''if I want to commit, I would have'', because... Although he was conflicted from the beginning, due to the nature of the pie, he simply had to see how far it extends. However, if this is what he had to put up with... Then it was not worth it.


    This was his judgement.


    That was his decision.


    And now the wait for death comes.


    The wind changed in its pace, not going round and round, rather coming to a pause, as if something stuck was trying to force its way through a thin veil... It''s as if a power of nature was defying his perception, who would even have considered that these people could have used this kind of control? Surely his intuition was wrong.


    "Forgive us, Lord Strophon, we failed to enter the client''s mindset correctly." The girls apologized and bowed, then without any notice; they morphed together into a single entity, combined into a different woman, whose body took a luster as if shining a bright gold.


    "H-h-hey! Stop f-fighting... We''ve already made history!! R-really!!! Or..." Phronta seemed distraught at the scene in front. "U-um, S-Sister R-Reiah... Ple-please...."


    "Fret not, dear. From all sides, this was his decision, no?" The girl before Zabulus said in a commanding voice.


    Both Strophon and Kilgore seemed to have fled the scene. Sounds of someone retching in a distant room could be heard...


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "Sir, I give you one more chance to participate, and if you refuse this time, we will not accept your life as something you are merely entitled to by birth," Reiah said as if telling the facts to him. "We all, including yourselves¡ªwhether that be today, yesterday, or in the future, share a similar origin of desire, please use these feelings before changing your mind; into your first action, so that when asked to go beyond oneself, the only answer is an eternal yes!"


    Her hand waved, and in the wave, like that of a liquid forming out of the mists of the breeze-turned-water, came a visible wind, before Zabulus could react; he already felt that a sharp force punctured his heart. ''Ah... Damn it. She is another monster..'' was what he thought. To his surprise, not a second passed before another wave was coming right at his skin, causing the his body to bounce like a rubber band. Like a spasm of death.


    Before realizing it, he was in the air being held by his neck, floating slowly as his skin continued tearing with wounds in shockingly unnatural ways. He was under no pressure, no pain, just floating. This was like the ultimate control she had over the pressure of the molecules, and could probably be classified as ''all consuming.''


    "A-aah! Please stop hurting our friend!"


    Her eyes focused on her younger sister, Phronta. "This is not violence, dear." She responded in a hushed tone. "This is our ultimate kindness, yes?"


    To this... Phronta looked back to where Kilgore and Strophon should have been; but they were nowhere to be seen now. Both of them? Nothing, if Zabulus were to describe it.


    Her expression became solemn at once. And it showed as if her thoughts were all ruffled inside. To think that she couldn''t even try and save somebody from his own death, the disappointment was enough to give a very displeased look.


    For a while now... There was an air of uncertainty between Phronta and her sisters.


    Perhaps it was because she was powerless, because she was shy, because she was the youngest, or because she was the weakest, or maybe for all four. But in her soul, it was difficult to embrace that she couldn''t give a little push. A change that would mean a difference in life. And she was too helpless to even think of trying now...


    Being treated as nothing more than a child, that was her day-to-day struggle. Even though that should''ve been a blessing- She only felt this way.


    Slam.


    Zabulus immediately impacted with the hard marble pavement, his head hit the ground first. As the time had passed faster than one could possibly conceive. Phronta could not believe what her older sister had done.


    Conflicted perhaps because she knew that it was perhaps the right thing to do, but also the wrong thing to do. Because of his abrasive attitude, he was going to have a worse fate than death.


    Phronta moved forward a few steps, she placed her arms outward and screamed, "STOOOOOPPP!!!! P-PLEEEEAAAAASSSEEE!!!"


    Reiah''s head turned like an owl, or perhaps a mother was towards her child, or a teacher towards a student. And she laughed, "Dear, never have such a sad and miserable expression and beg at us. Your cry-face could perhaps be called cute¡ªbut not now... " her voice was quiet. "Never ever show me something as disgusting as yourself begging for that dirt-thing down there, okay? Yes?" She ignored her sister''s look of disgust directed towards her. "After all, he will be nothing, compared to us- right, my sister in unity!"


    ''Was it that fucking pie? Was it that god damn... Pie? What was even in that thing? Why is it making me so... damn weak?''


    Zabulus'' consciousness was fading, as if memories of other people were seeping into his mind, whether he realized it or not. Was this... the fate of being initiated into such a cult? Was he an idiot for even getting himself into this?


    ''Damn it. All of this madness, just because of a broken wall...''


    ...


    "Oh... dear. I seem to have broken the Azkite somewhat." Reiah commented.


    Despite her words, what he saw above were not angels, nor spirits, or stars or moons. He saw the face of death once again. Those endless pits of sorrow in her eyes, the blackness was no longer just void, there were faces within her eyes. A face of each and every soul that met its demise in those everlasting depths.


    The last time he had met death, he was told by some apparition; that death didn''t just strike, but also devoured him in the most unsightly way. So what more could he call these demonic faces he was seeing if not as the result of being at death''s beckon...


    This time, death did not say a word. It stared at him with eyes sharper than that of a hawk. It examined his every movement and smiled at his failure. Its expression shifted from one to the other, until settling on an indifferent one. Still, even with a smile, it never reached her eyes.


    Soon enough, the pain ceased. His mind was blank and he was siphoned somewhere else.


    ...


    "S-sister... Ah... W-why?..." Phronta tearfully asked.


    "...."


    "Sniff... Sob... You made a p-promise that we would change ourselves... hic" The girl had almost bit her lower lip off, and ended up spurting quite a bit of blood from it.


    "...."


    "What happened to changing a-a-all of the rules? T-to fighting for the greater good...? H-he only wanted to return home, Sister... why did you have to be so h-harsh and cruel to him...?" Phronta asked as her voice trembled, she held back her sobs from trying to escape her lips, as if stopping them from releasing themselves any further would cause her sister to hate her.


    "..."


    "F-Forgive me for crying... I must be shameful to your sight, Sister."


    But Reiah seemed unconcerned and unbothered. "Sister, he was an unsightly and disgusting man, please understand this. Do you want him to die in his own filth in the place of his departure?"


    "But... But...!"


    Siphoning, siphoning.


    ...


    Going...


    ...


    Being taken, finding soul, consciousness, out, to... another... place, another time, and... another... self.


    And...


    Be more about the environment; its scent, and colors, and presence, in itself.


    Like...


    It was similar to a forest, yes. But where every leaf, tree branch, stem and the very foundation of the ground itself, were all somehow intertwined with one another. Such an impossibility, to bring life so abundant, with the kind that a real forest should have.


    ''Breathtaking'' was the only appropriate term, as even he himself could not have hoped for such a soul.


    ''Can I devour this?'' he thought, ''No... I have to kill the possessor first.''


    That is how it has always been, or, should be? With him being a soul, if any human ever did see him, they could even claim to just see him floating through a transparent path to their eyes, be it transparent air or magic; could one claim to even feel it?


    ''Where was I sent this time? I wasn''t supposed to be forced into this until quite the time had passed. Eh... Perhaps it was for the best that it happened so quickly.''


    He was brought here, just in time to see his death by her hand... However, all he could sense was a mix of indifference and uncaring coming from her eyes, which were, ''ah, rather warm than cold-looking'', unlike their usual deep-blue shimmering surface.


    His soul and hers exchanged a spark like that of thunder within a quick instant, because, surely, he knew at a glance; this was also a monster amongst monsters. This, this, is why, ''this'' is where he must kill her.


    He almost smiled. The despair makes him joyous for the simple fact that the whole world would go mad if they saw the sight of her right now, being fed upon. How cruel, how futile.


    Rather, his nature is to be predatory, simply to eat. Sure, many couldn''t have cared less to delve into the details and reasoning, however, after you are fed upon, ask yourself the simple question: why? If the answer wasn''t there... Then no matter how one puts it, it becomes useless.


    The predator preys upon its prey, just as its natural. However, one cannot continue forever... so it''s natural.


    "S-sister?" Phronta called out as Reiah''s skin tore itself apart, its entrails, bones and innards were blown out onto the walls. "Ah... So it was true... T-that''s w-why all the girls feared you... it was inevitable that y-you''d die in such a cruel way... Sister..."


    Harrowing. It was... too late. Way, way too late for explanations.


    Reiah''s skin shifted color, shape, her organs, her femurs and muscles shattered... She... ''looked'' just the same as the Azkite in form. His corpse was there, he laid on the ground, dead.


    But...


    Such a thing as death was too shallow and deep for a creature like himself.


    He could never die. He could never rest. A thousand million eyes were gazing upon him with intensity... Yet only one is truly there, inside a room of darkness.


    From this point on, his sense of reality and that of any others is on the brink of collapse.


    Friend?


    Relative?


    Inquisitor?


    Killer?


    King?


    Whatever that is? It is just me?


    This may sound out of the ordinary, or in fact quite idiotic, to people who view their self as nothing more than a flesh-sack; but to him, killing. devouring their soul was a wonder that always kept him hungry for more. And yet, at the same time, his soul never seemed to fatten up.


    He slowly, and utterly agonizingly, moves within the confines of Reiah''s soul. Expanding it from inwards, cracking its surface. Penetrating and fracturing its shape.


    A soul reduced to pieces, torn and pierced, crumbled and shattered under his control. At this point, there wasn''t anything solid in his surroundings, he was free again.


    His sight returns, and all he could remember was the last moment of pain before seeing death.


    As if a dream, you forget how, and what. As long as there was a piece, or hint, even an infinitesimal piece of his recollection, then... he knows that they''d never defeat him.


    To be killed, but never denied by a dreamer... That was his curse.

 The Walls of Your Soul Are Lined With Enmity

    An angel''s predilection towards a devil''s heart. The darkness of your hatred guides your body and mind into submission.


    Often to forget what led to hate, as a coping mechanism of a disturbed mind.


    There is great beauty to be found within and at the precipice of death and demise.


    So why this need¡ªno¡ªwhy this desire to grow yourself based on someone else''s preconceptions?


    What differs the world from your mind? A simple turn of events where they couldn''t become complacent?


    Do you believe that we only allow ourselves to be chained by what gives us purpose, and nothing else?


    Sometimes that which others judge seems petty, or of a matter so tiny.


    Hideously distorted as each of the individuals involved have their own motive.


    Every decision I make, all this megalomania and canted expressions will grow¡ªare you of my mind, or are you of theirs?


    Our senses are too dulled. Perhaps all we know of that is the waltzing rules of this putrescent plane we call life?


    Somewhere, a devil dances. At the edge of his gaze, his own twisted form finds itself scatheful and bound.


    What good does that do to the angel? They dance on tiptoes around the truth which lies beyond our comprehension.


    None might dare learn the ways of a fallen angel, nor the risen devil, like one believes; they all are.


    ¡ªThe Second Anarchist


    The last few moments blurred like the past two incarnations he had been a part of. There was no consistency in those times of his past, and now, the present.


    Coalescing together, as if in his very first moments, coming about the world¡ªagain.


    A lot of things happened. Seeing these memories of humiliation and indifference¡ªOh the indifference that he could not understand. His soul sullied by these emotions that he could not yet grasp, not a single inkling of a why, why would this happen?


    For what reason would he feel a connection to this woman? Was it her pitifulness? Her innocence? That he and this woman are one of the same, treated as outcasts and left to be lone figures standing by themselves, watching over the horizon for millennia- perhaps longer than this lifetime he experienced, longer than the memories that he holds.


    Not a friend, a kin, a nemesis, a companion, sibling, lover¡ªno. Perhaps...


    He was now, nothing but one part of who he was, the kind of kinship that changes your form¡ªonly he was a devil, and she, an angel.


    It was the only notion which made sense at this moment... He felt it, like an answer, as though he just solved a part of him once again that which remained like a blister on his brain, that he could not get rid of, no matter what he tried. It hurt him, it pained him, it enraged him; All of his dark and sinister sides understood that the world was not all war. The world was at the edge of his grasp, but it only slipped away because he only thought of himself. It was not till recently that he learned of friendship, and now, he learned of understanding. The sort of kinship that transcends time, space and this world.


    Involuntarily grinning, though with no intent in his heart, he clutched his heart tightly in his right hand, feeling a pain unlike no other.


    All the sounds and beats of his surroundings.


    In this instant, as he looked over to his right, Phronta sat opposite of him; only four paces separated the two. She looked down, her hands, or what seemed like two hands, where on the ground flat, open, and faced up, like a devout. And as the girl let out a sob, tears streaked down her face.


    Slow, heaps of droplets crashed from her high cheekbone into her knees. He wondered, if he loomed tall enough, would he be able to see them shine in the lights, like that of the reflection of the sun on the lake''s surface?


    "Allow me to help you," he said, ''gazing'' downwards towards her pure expression. "I will put back together your crumbled heart. Your fallen sisters'' soul aids me to understand you, would you accept my words?" He didn''t understand himself at the moment, simply doing what his soul told him to do.


    It was as if Zabulus was no longer there, but something else became him. Usurping Reiah''s soul, shattering the inner hatred he held for all beings. This wasn''t new, his pride couldn''t stop this force of will. It came again and again and again¡ªAgain, and again, and again, and again.


    The way she trembled and wept made his core tremble and in turmoil, for he needed no control over anything. Just acceptance.


    "Why?" Phronta replied. Looking at him from a glazed visage, a red rimmed-puffy face from crying too much. She was probably going to wear that the next few days until she completely understands that Reiah is no more.


    "Why what? I cannot answer questions that may or may not be."


    "Hic! Hah... Sniffle... You''re... confusing... What.. What did Sister want of you...?" She continued in sobs, eyes slightly shuttered.


    At the same time, he looked at her with consideration. First, ''Was she even the same person without her sisters, or could that be that her isolation meant loneliness and helplessness was the only thing known to her?'' he wondered. It was still only him and her. All he wanted was her acceptance¡ªAcceptance of an angel was something he didn''t quite expect.


    "I cannot answer a question that may or may not be," His answer unchanging, he was looking at the remains that spewed across the wall behind her. His old remains. "But, I don''t think you''d want to hear the truth."


    "W-why not?!"


    She was still acting defiantly, in the end, she was conflicted between her neglectful sister''s death and finding fault in herself for allowing it to happen.


    Why, is only ever a question everyone asks. However, he understood full-well that nobody ever needs a reply. They wish for people to answer regardless.


    In actuality, ''it isn''t a question of why, only that of ''will it,'' that one asks,'' He knew.


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    And so, he approached, rather gently. He held his hand out, and said, "Your sister, Reiah... She..." he held his breath and pushed his hand out further, closer to the teary-faced girl.


    Unsure of what to do. Yet slowly, she outstretched her arm into the air in response; the air inside the room filled up with uncertainty. This lasted a few seconds as their finger finally touched, the both of them.


    "It''ll be alright. She''s within me, I assure you that."


    "D-Do... Y-you mean you will fix her..?! P-Please! T-tell me t-the truth, F-fix her. R-Reiah didn''t need to die that-that way... h-hic!"


    Seeing her sorrowed expression again, even while a little closer, he couldn''t bring himself to answer her, clearly. There was a point in telling her, and another point in not telling her the truth.


    Was it worth the consequences? Perhaps it was.


    "No. I''m afraid her soul is gone, the entirety of her soul was lost." He put forth in a rather decisive answer. He wasn''t lying, he couldn''t succumb to his nature.


    Those words alone forced her into another tearful fit, despite them containing the truth she sought after. "Then... tell me, in all honesty... Why... why are you holding my hand? W-why would you ask forgiveness f-from me? Of all people..." She took hold of his hand and clenched. Her trembling breath was now under control. The pain lessened, but seeing her expression made him unsure.


    He answered her honestly, like a fool, he went to say, "I do not know the reason, but it isn''t forgiveness. It is acceptance that I seek. I do not understand this very moment, but whatever it is, I feel your turmoil within my soul. The things your sister felt, those I understand."


    "H-how do you know how my sister felt? H-her soul is lost.. So w-why?"


    Her constant questioning was something so childish- No, almost as if they were alone in some corner of the world where nobody could intrude on them, but he was intent on answering each and every question, not so much because he could not find any faults in the flaws of the logic and reasoning of them, but because his emotions allowed him that. These new emotions drove him to become more of a creature, rather than a warring dance machine.


    Calmly, patiently, and somewhat irrevocably, he assured her, "When... Your sister initiated my soul into the depths of death, perhaps she saw some imagery, or I did. And... in a blurry instant her soul became one with mine. Perhaps a rebirth, or maybe a new existence, only together with us do I now understand some things I might''ve never in a thousand years of living."


    "You lie." She let go of his hand.


    "Ask yourself the question: why am I saying and thinking what I think and say? Am I a liar, or have you yourself not known true sincerity besides me?" He began to clench his hand shut, slowly closing it, the way a flower folds in its petals when being submerged in water.


    "..."


    "Can you ask that question a second time? Please?"


    Silence. Not a sound graced her mouth, nor were her eyes lowered. Just the sound of dripping tears from her chin was all he could hear. Only for a moment was it all they both endured.


    So, again. Zabulus did not waste a single opportunity to make the most of this fleeting one.


    "Phronta."


    Sudden. He should not have known her name¡ªnot in a million years.


    "Where... W-where did you-"


    "Your sister''s memories. Do you believe me? Will you accept me?"


    Phronta thought about her reply to no end, and then, slowly, but surely, almost as if the gods were playing a cruel trick. It was all he could hope for, yet, Phronta finally uttered the few sweet words of acceptance he could scarcely hope to ever hear. "...I... do."


    Their hands once again touched, it seemed awfully inappropriate, like lovers touching hands instead of two acquaintances who just happened to share some mutual understanding of the lost. Yet, they touched. They touched, knowing full well what would happen.


    "Thank you... Phronta."


    "...It''s not an i-issue... After all, S-Sister is already gone. And... I thank you for that."


    Taken by surprise, Zabulus asked, rather flatly, "Why thank me?"


    "..."


    He took the silence as a sign that he should not intrude upon it.


    After what seemed a few minutes of her quiet breaths, she finally decided to respond. "Even if I cry and am inconsolable... I know that Sister did not need to die... But I wished for her death long before her cruelty would ultimately doom her." Phronta trembled, the thoughts of her sister still loomed in her head with a certain hatred and sadness. A hatred so strong, a sadness so strong that not a single emotion would stop its tracks.


    "But," she added, "What I feared was... The moment of death. The certainty which may follow it of how relieved I''d be. That is why, Thank you. You may still be a stranger to my eyes, to your intentions and what lies behind your words, but if you can play the part of the devil that saved me, then that is good enough."


    "Is the act of saving you devalued without the intention of purity? Or would you have me devoid of an answer, a plan, and more besides?"


    Her shyness didn''t show in this moment, a face which should''ve been taut by now was now softer by a few minutes, so gentle were the sounds surrounding the two, encompassed in the room.


    "Are you going to steal away that special privilege all on your own?" Her voice was just as soft, even growing more peaceful by the second.


    "Ah- The privilege of having everything underneath your command and knowledge in order to manipulate a human being into gaining confidence over fear itself; no matter how hollow it might be. I don''t think it is something I can put under my control without faltering to myself in time." Zabulus was truly a devil sometimes, but since he knew her so much through the memories of her sister, he needed not to fear for her next action.


    "Wouldn''t you wish to kill?"


    As was her first thought. Like a spider wreathed within a ball of silk.


    "I''ve left those feelings aside now."


    "Then, wouldn''t you wish to be just like your peers?"


    "I have no peers, only a singular friend that I have known for less than a week. Besides her, and even against that, I had no family-" He caught himself in a bit of an error of speaking. His past was blurry, like water pouring across someone''s palm. Clear-blue. However, despite that, he knew the color of his memories was becoming faded after so many congested minds. In a way, he found himself fascinated by his own sudden change. Was Reiah''s soul simply that significant?


    "Had...?"


    "I want to abandon that thought, but I can''t."


    "If you can''t," A sigh, ¡°then I suppose there is no helping it. But, I am the same. For my sister was... cruel, yet loving in a harsh way. I never understood her. But she was unlike Tecinrah. One day, I will see to it that her dream becomes true, regardless of my own selfish yearning for hope. For the hope that I might be freed."


    Her blue iris meets his non-existent ones.


    "Do you really understand such notions so flippantly? Was it I, or was it your sister who should''ve played the part of human, one devoid of your innocence to find reason within meaningless beings of existence?"


    She let out another sigh, deep and concussive; was it painful or was it something else? Nobody really knew. It became obvious that ''Zabulus'' was ''altered'' by Reiah''s emotions. The image of a devil no longer suited his ego, but had it ever? Nobody really understood, because monsters were always misunderstood.


    "...They were in there... yes... an Azkite and two of the Forty-Eight sisters. I can''t pretend to know why all this is happening..." Kilgore''s voice approached closer and closer from beyond the gate door, though it was still shut. There was a sound of weapons creaking and rattling. A plethora of guards ready to rush in.


    "HALT! AZKITE!" Kilgore shouted as the door slammed itself open with the impact of his foot. The smell of warm crimson iron and a pungent scent of burnt stone permeated everyone''s nose as the sight of... two Zabulus were in the room, one standing in front of Phronta, and the other a cadaver in the right side of the room.


    "Ah," was all Zabulus could''ve said as he spotted the tens of guards that armed themselves with swords.


    "S-sir K-Kilgore... Spare him! T-this Azkite was a-attacked by Sister..." Her stuttering and shyness suddenly returned.


    Before a single guard could raise their voice in protest, a heavy silence dropped across everyone and everything.


    One would have to make a choice, and this choice for Kilgore wasn''t clear, he was only standing in shock at the sight of two of the same person, especially given it was the ''same'' Zabulus all along, an illusion to the mortal eye perhaps?


    He knew not what magic these illusions contained, he was convinced it was all an illusion.


    Nobody could answer for themselves before Zabulus, for he simply ''stared'' back at the dumbfounded group of guards and their Leader.

 Crown Yourself With Your Own Teeth

    The air was filled with confusion and hesitation. Yet, the weight of the sword in a person''s hand didn''t lie when danger was afoot.


    What looked like an illusion to them was none other than his ''image.'' Perhaps ''physical form'' would''ve done better. And that such a thing existed, it was no far-cry of how many-half-true stories Kilgore had heard in his lifetime.


    ''One'' life. In an attempt to break away from his past memories, the ones which brought about his fate from another version of this world. It was quite jarring to remember something different, or the same; the context in-between was important, so much so that it got away from him the moment he was shot into his very own corpse.


    His body was moved in an interesting way that followed Phronta''s guidance when she took an initiative towards the path of divinity, whatever it is, she meant it and probably would''ve stayed there through to the end.


    And in the end, following her was his only deliverance. Perhaps not understanding half the things he really did understand was a higher caliber of ignorance. Nobody would truly understand any more than him, but most definitely would believe they did if they were presented with two ''fake'' and ''true'' options.


    And those options stem from the truth.


    Somewhere, somewhere lost, inside his chest was still himself, the self he felt comfortable with.


    He asked himself, why was he being cautious? After all, who cares if this world of many possibilities has no need for him? And where did this forlorn feeling at the pit of his heart swell up from?


    ''Do you understand what you mean to each and every piece of existence in this little world around you? Everything else that you don''t know? Or do you truly find value in the life that your actions have ruined? Be completely and utterly selfish... That''s what you were made for! Not this game of tag that... That God forbid... Forbade us from your heart!'' Zabulus'' Psyche spoke to him, even now. Even in his changed state.


    And it wasn''t something to ignore. Something had made him shift his viewpoint on life¡ªof what life was to him.


    Phronta held his hand as she began to run away towards the other exit, making time slow down in their pace. To them, it might''ve gone faster, perhaps. However, to Kilgore, even if he looked, it would make sense to be moving quickly. But from his point-of-view, something felt off.


    But where was the point in escaping? He thought.


    The White Queen will simply call upon the God, one way or another. It''s either the Queen or God to smite down traitors. He thought.


    But for what purpose would Phronta, a loyalist to the Forty-Eight and the Queen, decide to betray her principles and escape right here and right now, or could it be that... That the Azkite is controlling her mind, just as one would think initially.


    "That filthy hell-spawn will pay! He is taking control of our Phronta; Halt any who let her escape! We will strike him down, but you will keep our Phronta a sacred maiden, unadulterated, away from harm''s way!" Kilgore boasted, the gears in his head turned. ''So that''s it... You infiltrated our ranks, killed one of our sacred daughters of the Forty-Eight... and destroyed proof of the heresy perpetuated by your kind!''


    Surprisingly calm, the Zabulus stated whilst running away, "She is no longer your property, hood-guy! Come and get her yourself!" Zabulus taunted him even though he had no intention to really fight him or go through the trouble to justify himself. Something was telling him to lead Kilgore into certain death, but he fought back enough against it that it would give him enough wiggle-room to save his skin.


    "S-sir... hah... hah... I''m losing a-air... I can''t keep-"


    "Just a little longer, come on. Please."


    "Nghhh.... A-alright... But, why did you make Kilgore follow us?"


    "I don''t plan to play along with his sickening sense of irony. Had it been up to him how this goes then-"


    "Halt! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!" Kilgore''s voice echoed throughout the hallway they found themselves in.


    Thinking for a moment, Zabulus swept Phronta off her feet and carried her princess-style. "Alright, looks like you can rest easy."


    "H-hey! W-what are you doing..?!"


    "I promise not to misbehave. Just endure this a while longer,"


    Feet on the cold stone tiles, he began to pick up his pace. He was actually keeping up with the ones behind him, but instead of catching up he was creating more and more distance between him and them.


    Their weaponry began to echo louder and louder the farther it got away.


    "Hmmm, let''s see..." He wondered. "There should be a hidden tunnel right about... Now!" And a simple leap to the air allowed him to fall directly inside a hole that wasn''t there to begin with, "You can do almost anything you want to the surroundings as long as you have faith, right?" Said Zabulus to himself as he let himself drop down, keeping Phronta in his grasp, tight and secure, as Kilgore and his brigade came across where he fell down, but ultimately found nothing, only a trace of where the ground should''ve given way.


    As darkness loomed around them, darkness filled with questions of purpose, only a few men could find salvation from the clutches of ''righteousness.''


    ''Poor naive fools.'' Zabulus would not be here if it weren''t for Reiah and her memories. How convenient is one''s life when using only the information obtained from their enemy''s perspectives?


    "We''re at the bottom now. No one should be able to follow us here. Otherwise, they''ll be crushed to their deaths from falling." Zabulus spoke in a relaxed way.


    Putting her down. She couldn''t help but speak. "E-Everyone will j-j-just f-fall to their d-deaths...?"


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    The thought.


    "Perhaps so, but we''re different. I don''t plan to meet my end just yet." He ''looked'' her in the eyes with that last statement, some things are just better left said than unsaid.


    She stayed silent at those words, unsure of what to make of those words, but willing enough to believe in his words because, "Hey, s-so... what was your name ag-ag-again?" she never really knew his name, so saying ''again'' was a bluff.


    He was still carrying her, despite everything. The path they were treading was dimly lit, enough to make him understand that there might''ve been somebody down here. "My name is Zabulus, as you''re unaware. But I''ll also not abandon you simply because you did not know that from the beginning." As he gave her his name, she responded to the silence by putting her arms around his neck and embraced him.


    Quiet as can be, there seemed to have been a ruckus outside.


    They were most likely in the safe regardless, but he had to keep safe by walking quietly down this tunnel. After all, there could''ve been anybody or a mechanism to detect intruders anywhere in this forsaken place.


    "Can you... stop that?" Referring to her gentle touch, almost an embrace.


    "Sorry... i-it just w-was starting to b-bother me if you wouldn''t do the same,"


    "..." As he grew silent, he couldn''t lie to the fact it wasn''t something he wanted to get close to. Why wouldn''t he, after all? In all his years, since being born, and, seemingly, many times thereafter he couldn''t remember having a real and proper embrace. Perhaps only in recent memory, it was with Onofre, but he wonders if she''ll accept him anymore. A true friend was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of person. Those were all things he learnt now, and now was much better than later. "Say, have you ever met a traitor?" He asked abruptly.


    "W-where is this coming from?"


    "I won''t answer your question if you don''t answer mine. That''s fair, isn''t it?"


    "It''s a yes and no sort of situation... but the yes part is far more prevalent than the no one."


    He pondered if he should tell her what''s inside his heart or not.


    ''Though, not everyone must know everything. A pity you don''t have more knowledge, Phronta. But I won''t abandon you either, because I am much the same.'' The words he thought all had a touch of sadness in-between. For all the lives he destroyed and lived through...


    ''....''s....''s....''s..."


    He stopped walking.


    Something was being said from within him once again. A soul voice that can only belong to Vetro. His name and his memory was important in helping all these half-corpses find their worth before departing from the realm, one which tied them all together.


    Worried that he''d become his old self once again, he pushed Vetro''s voice back into his soul. To make him stay there, alone, where his Psyche could eat him and nurture his hatred for an eternity. That way he might lose another part of him that didn''t belong.


    ...


    ''My eyes can''t see, but that voice belonged to him. My ears can''t hear, but those were his thoughts.''


    Phronta released her arm around his neck. "What happened? Y-you look d-d-disturbed..."


    Snapped away from his thoughts, he pretended to laugh, "It''s nothing. I''m probably just a bit tired," We all laugh sometimes, "Are you okay? I know the way out¡ªby the looks of it¡ªit should be up ahead by this point."


    ...


    Slowly, almost as if she was holding something back, she brought her arms down against her sides and huffed out a lot of air. "You... Are not alright, are you? You inhabit the vessel... T-that brought down my sister, you still h-have that part in you... r-right? I-I-I mean, you looked distraught for a moment, but I don''t think even God could be as compassionate as a b-blind man... right?"


    "Huh? What do you mean? What''s God got to do with anything right now?"


    "G-god? B-believe me when I say this, b-but God does n-nothing and everything a-all at once..."


    "So just what are you saying?" He questioned non-rhetorically.


    "Everything, T-The Forty-Eight, it was a lie when they t-told you that the White Queen was their only leader... b-but she only exists under the F-forty-Eight... U-understand?" Her breaths were loud.


    "Sounds like hogwash. Are you telling me Onofre-"


    "D-do you know her?! Ono-Ono... That''s the name of the White Queen? The very one which rules Onkhivol?!"


    "Yeah, that''s what she told me her name was... I think. It seems you guys really don''t have any clue what your real ruler is, huh? Or is it something else...? Does that mean that everything that''s been happening here is unknown to her? I doubt that could be possible..."


    "...w-w-w-wh.... H-ho-"


    "...I wouldn''t go telling everyone about this if I were you, yet again... I don''t believe there''s nobody left to tell at this point. They all either think I''m the enemy or that you''ve been brainwashed... Well, that''s their problem. Whatever it is, I have no real reason to come back here once I leave."


    "T-then where will you go?"


    "Back home."


    "Your home... Was it the same as mine? Did everyone see death for their kind or salvation...?"


    "There was no one but me at my home. I had been trapped back there in my mind for as long as I existed. You see... I had... murdered my mother."


    She was quiet.


    Zabulus doesn''t flinch or halt his steps, but a feeling within began to fester. Like poison in one''s veins, a sense of sickness hit him hard but he said nothing; kept his head facing forward and tried his damnedest not to make a single bit of regret known. "I still have her image in my mind when I sleep, in the back of my soul... I don''t know what it was that lead me to that choice. But I know that she did what she did, and it was that she kept me away from the world. I have regrets that are overshadowed by the sheer want of freedom and choice that was given to me despite all the odds against it. If there was an axiom of choice, then it would be the choice that makes a person."


    It makes no difference if that ideal ends a human life, choice is an apex that could only happen when free will is the judge. And man was a terrible being who towered over the maxims of the concept of Choice; everything underneath his reign and body was his territory. Thus he took away what was next to be his. Freedom. Man created prisons, man created rule, man created law. Men had free will, and thus limited it through their own stupidity of conceiving anything out of the norm from their thoughts and vision of the world.


    To be no such thing of man, is no way of man. Everything was a set path, everyone was a passive existence. Too weak. The only chance at freedom was through choice, that which was stripped away eons ago by oneself. And choice would endure a limit of freedom. That was the true realization of selection and desire. Everything was created because you can decide, not because it was all set in stone from the beginning of time.


    Nothing made sense with clear and logical progression. There were people from afar that were dead, some from afar that reigned supreme above tainted corpses of the earth below them. Some were too stupid to recognize that there was always death among the land, everywhere, that the same corpse has a different person within their flesh. The ultimate choice has been, and will always be, the absolute will to continue living, after being ripped from a body and relinquishing their death. Some die hundreds of times in a lifetime, some die never. That was the way of reality, that was the will and action that derived from Choice. To be an axiom of choice is to become a God in your own right. The only God of your own domain; of that domain that creates things within your life. No longer will passivity pass the responsibility of creation and recreation on to someone else. Death wasn''t an end, and nor was it simply the journey from start to finish. Everyone in this world was already dead, that is why they cannot find their way ''home''¡ªthere is none. Some learn this fact, most get sheltered from such awful truths and realities. Some... become nothing. The most awful end is to be nothing; to do nothing.


    That is why Zabulus believes that he will never die.

 The Very Words That Tear Every Reason Asunder

    A crooked dreamer.


    A hopeless child.


    A son with no more.


    What I was once before is no longer.


    What I am is a constant of change.


    And change does not get constant in one''s life until long after they''re no longer.


    Destroying this world for the ones that wish it no harm, destroying this world to keep its beauty intact.


    Because, he said, it will be not. He was not afraid of the unrelenting judgement, he stood sharp in his own truth.


    While thinking over the choices he''d had, I left him no judgement towards my own. Being alive was not a perfect virtue, being dead was not a perfect vice.


    Not being was the ultimate imperfection.


    I would stand atop him, and prove him in what I knew. To prove him in what was reason, what was not, and what is no longer. For I was a Nightmare.


    I laughed and I laughed. I couldn''t laugh as hard or as loud as him; his ears weren''t connected to the bones inside his head. Like a puzzle piece, I could break him down.


    Unhinge him. Unforge the world and forge its impossibilities and force them onto every crooked angle and twisted limb, I needed to show everyone that I was right.


    I was right.


    I was always right.


    From the start to the end, I wanted everyone to know that no matter how much their phenomenon spoke to them, no matter how much one or how many can fall under me, I would never relent.


    ¡ªThe First Anarchist


    "Then could we all be demons to you? Azkites are just... Corrupted as they are born? Is that what you believe?" Zabulus asked Phronta.


    Both of them were sitting down inside the tunnel, the gentle warmth coming from the ground''s structure. Heat had warmed them and turned any cold into a slight annoyance; the slightest bother. Her breaths calmed, her body language was more relaxed. Almost in a motion, her and Zabulus were taking an eye out for any movement either underground or above.


    "That''s not it, it''s.... just about the legends... My mother taught me that there once existed a great Azkite ruler that brought nothing but endless onslaughts to anything unfortunate enough to cross his and the Azkites'' path. He thought of them the same way humans believe the devil does, that I heard. And my mother says that it would''ve been the biggest genocide of our time had it not been for a king called Golith... He was known as the king of humanity. Did you really never know about these stories? They''re told at almost every kingdom and land I''ve known about." She spoke plainly and tried not to hide away anything, she had nothing to gain, and frankly, it would seem insulting had she tried to bend her words in any direction.


    "Well, I suppose since we have time. I could tell you about myself, I think it''s only fair. What do you think? If we''re going to be traveling together, I can''t have you know nothing about me." Zabulus sat on the ground and leaned against the cool stone walls.


    "Sure, sure..." Phronta affirmed, while staying put. Not really expecting to move from where she was.


    Zabulus opened his mouth up and spoke, for what felt like hours upon hours, he told Phronta of his first memories of being born, the many souls that came before him and after.


    The girl he knew as Alice. The coward known as Laz. The warrior known as Aeneus. The soul that never left, Vetro.


    But slowly, each and every word, in the eclipse of his mind, phantom silhouettes slowly shaped around the darkness. Hearing the very words and seeing the very memories play out. Their figures might''ve started out as dark blobs, but with every sentence he spoke, the silhouettes were all the more like creatures of his home that weren''t there before.


    Once again, uncaring as can be. Feeding him more and more, his soul was being eaten bit by bit. Slowly, yet surely.


    He tells a half lie and a half truth; "So on and so forth was my life, and once I met someone, who became my first friend. She looked a little bit like you, more muscled up though. And she started with her pink hair that turned light blue after a while... I think it''s the woman you know as the White Queen. The difference is her eyes, they''re a lot different. Oh... What am I to do now if she sees my face again? What if she sees you with me? What if..."


    "I-I don''t mean to sound rude, but I''ve no reason to think that a friend would abandon you so easily over... the Forty...Eight..." She sounded so unsure, her stutter had become dry and gone when her brows creased. But immediately afterward, it had resumed to her status-quo.


    Slightly annoyed by that pause, Zabulus changed the subject to her. "Do the humans have any legends about any other beings aside from the Azkites?" Zabulus asked so.


    "Others? That''s hard to say, I''m trrying to remember, but it has been so many years since my... since I''ve been in school."


    ...


    "..." Neither or one of the two spoke, because not a single word was willing to make it past the air of silence. A moment for the things of the universe to know, a moment for them to join together in the singularity. The world was spinning, and when a man is focused, he goes nowhere. So do his enemies. "Well, you should try to remember something from whatever comes to mind... Wherever your mind went, why not take a step back and help yourself rediscover what you once knew?"


    With little effort, barely visible, her tiny head bobbed up and down and turned downcast. A response, small, meaningless, insignificant in the scope of history... was able to push what she had down her throat long enough to speak in words of meaning, with no speck of what she tried so desperately to force back down and hold back her shaking bones and sweat.


    Because her body and her soul were bound to the will of her mind.


    Through those words, and to her listener.


    Through the body of flesh and bone and blood.


    To the soul from the deepest depths.


    Through the air of silence, she spoke the words he could never hear in a magnitude that should''ve shaken the world.


    "...Sloth..."


    "What did you say...?" He asked; Phronta''s words nearly vanished in the air. "All that thinking made you look rather worried¡ªmust''ve been from so long ago."


    "...I remember only three more. There is the story of the woman with wings of black, black as night itself. Some say she''s the reaper. Others say she was born from the fires and bloodshed of her birthplace. Others... called her Cerusine. She was a pure creature with a hideous form to behold. Her name became lost to time, only so few know it now... Her purpose became one of the thirteen nightmares of this world. No longer was it being the innocent-turned-monster, it was her new law. One that deemed what is not, is, and what cannot be. Eventually felled by her own mind. People believe in her kind a bit like people do with God, She was once a normal child... She was... Yet her dreams of love turned sour and... turned into nothing but absolute fear within the people of the worlds. People said she was simply an avenger turned into a twisted, demented, creature. But... I believe that she was just afraid. She was still a child in mind- I mean, I don''t know that for sure but, it''s what I know..." Her shoulders jerked slightly. As if her heart finally told herself what it thought of that, "She became a mindless beast... they all say that..."


    The bitterness of her response laid naked in the tense air as it grew frigid.


    "Is that what you think happened? That she lost all reason when all she wanted was a happy and loving home?" Zabulus jestingly asked.


    "If it was the case, then you would see too. That she did not lose her mind like they say. She was simply born loving the wrong beings." Phronta quickly replied, if only to stop him from speaking more of this; her eyes darted from side to side in an attempt to find comfort and safety in her arms.


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    "I see. So the idea of peace between Azkites and humans doesn''t trouble you or get on your nerves when you hear it?" He changed subjects once again, unsure of how to carry this conversation. It was clear to Zabulus that she had almost nothing going on inside her mind that could give her comfort, even in the safety of a good conversation; so he threw out the ones he would''ve been normally interested in discussing, just to make her have a happier day.


    She closed her eyes and rested. "...they are a bit like n-n-nuisances... Is t-that the right way of d-dealing with it...?"


    ''What''s up with the stuttering?'' Zabulus thought, pondering for a moment until he stood up. Standing ever so silently, he needed only one word before pointing at a dim light. "The entrance. We''ll need to sneak up, be careful. Best bet is to follow behind me and stay quiet."


    "Huh? Oh yeah, yeah!... Don''t worry."


    Faintly shining, he could see the glint of the torches reaching from outside. Just beyond the barrier that barred any person that might try to get in or out. He felt like the person, or people, who stood on the other side were getting further and further away. Less threatening and more like less of a possibility, the two walked forward. Almost in slow motion, each foot they both placed one in front of the other was an eternity to his sanity, and the moment either side moved, be it arm, torso, head, or leg, it was an ache to his impatience.


    He was, maybe, as soft on his steps as Phronta was. But in the atmosphere he was like a landmine; at a moment''s notice he could either stay silent or end up destroying the entire tunnel behind himself.


    He kept touching the wall and slid his hand across as he''d progressed forward. As the exit narrowed, the two carried on, finding nothing and no one still, had reached a dead end with a rickety door that''s hinges were likely to fall off the moment a little force was applied. Turning the knob and giving the push needed caused it to give itself away, creaking like a coffin lid. But it held its composition. He stepped through carefully, holding the door against his back while the girl slipped on through, standing behind him... For she was watching closely. Carefully looking to spot anything or anyone nearby.


    After letting the door go shut with a single, "Click." It all went according to plan. No big moment where there was any life closeby, no sense of doubt that could cause any unnecessary attention from below. The heat coming from the soil didn''t stay for long, no longer seeping through the walls and ground, the smell was washed away instantly.


    A gentle breeze brushed past him as he lifted his arms into the air. Stretching and shivering in the cooling temperature, he regained some of his lost resolve to keep going. But not what was needed most¡ªrest. His mind was tired from trying to come to the realization that perhaps something was wrong with it.


    And going through the tunnel made him somewhat nervous, even if he never really felt that way, not often. Sometimes not at all. It was a dreadful feeling that nearly froze him in place and almost made him feel sick. Staying here wouldn''t be so bad, would it?


    "Say, uh, Phr-Phronta, was it?"


    "Yeah, hm, are we staying here for the night?"


    "That''s exactly what I was thinking, don''t know about you but it''s a bit cold, huh?" He laughed at that as he began to take deep breaths and settle in.


    "Y-yeah, it''s a bit cold out... B-but isn''t w-w-warmer back in the a-air? Won''t it be a bit b-better if we head toward an exit and rest under th-there?"


    "Don''t be unreasonable, we''ll get spotted faster than an idiot could figure something out." He chuckled, "There''s bound to be many exits to the outside walls than there is doors leading to this tunnel. Anyways, I''m perfectly comfortable."


    ''This guy...'' Phronta was a little frustrated, she''d been trying to calm down for the better part of this day. She gripped her forearm a bit too tightly and slowly stood up and decided to check around just to look for anywhere else warmer. "B-but, l-l-look, th-this should b-be o-okay, R-R-"


    "Hey, you okay?"


    "Y-yeah, o-one moment... AGH!" Phronta bent down and held her leg, while gently moving her knee up and down.


    "So which one do you have?"


    "T-what?"


    "You were trying to tell me something, right?"


    "N-no, no, no, d-don''t mind it. W-we should... find the exit and f-forget we were even here..."


    "Hm." He figured that someone was watching them, and that she simply couldn''t say anything about it otherwise they might attack, but he found that strange.


    According to Reiah''s memories, the only people that should know about the passageways should be few and far in between, let alone anyone residing within the walls of Onkhivol.


    So unless his assumption was correct, the girl was either hiding something or is acting shy because of it.


    As for the latter, he couldn''t tell why they suddenly appeared. Being a tad unnerved, Phronta saw it fit to glance around and make sure that she and him were alone.


    "You''re certain now?" Zabulus asked, "I guess after spending so long in that tunnel, you can''t help but stutter all over yourself..."


    It struck him at that point.


    She was worried about something else entirely.


    "Maybe y-you''re right... but... m-my legs don''t hurt any-anymore. Uh, sorry for wasting t-time, b-but... I''m fine... You know, d-don''t stare." She hastily brought both hands up to cover herself as if to hide the flesh and bone underneath her clothes, only for the top half of her body to gently rise upwards.


    Zabulus assumed incorrectly and backed away the moment he realized that... She was crying. "Hey..." Zabulus hesitated a little before giving her his hand.


    She took his and cried softly as she nearly suffocated, the words she needed so much were just on the edge of her teeth. Like a pin dropping to the floor, like a finger slowly moving the tip of a weapon over another''s throat.


    ''Just keep quiet, nothing bad can come of it if she stays the way she is'' was all Zabulus could muster in order to convince himself that everything was alright.


    Phronta noticed his ''gaze'', she immediately raised her face and lifted herself up and pulled herself a little closer, trying to speak softly, as if the noise alone would shatter something far more important than a little calm, "I''m... not s-stupid, y-you''re making it... s-sound as if we''re d-doomed to fail."


    "Huh? No, no, no. Don''t worry. There''s still plenty of daylight ahead of us. Now come on. We can keep looking around but... we deserve a little rest after walking so long down these paths."


    Phronta opened her eyes a bit wider and followed suit, dragging her feet around in a sluggish and lethargic fashion, "Okay... Okay..." she continued to say it until there was not a speck of self-esteem left within her mind and her eyes started to shed tears again; this time they had run down her cheeks, her jaw, her throat, her collar, her neck, her shoulder, and her clothing had already began to dry up the stains. "I just... can''t come to terms with myself. I''m nothing but a coward."


    Phronta stayed up without much energy, eventually growing so tense and still to the point that her expression looked so serious. And in the slightest twitch of her body, there it came, the shock, the surprise, the sorrow and anger filled her mind and soul. Her bones creaking and muscles going all the way against her bones, straining them, her flesh tearing itself and burning at the sight of a blurry blob running towards her; she raised both her palms up and pushed whatever that thing was, nearly throwing her over. Her blood was running hot from how terrified she was, unable to look away, not that it was safe to, the object crashed onto the floor a ways off, scraping its skin and turning over to glance up at her...


    The realization dawned upon her, realizing that what she saw had merely fallen over.


    "..."


    She couldn''t breathe, not any longer.


    "...Phronta? H-Hey, wh-what''s going on!? Speak to me! Come on... don''t-"


    She fell to her knees and he embraced her, putting aside his own anxieties. Her words could be barely understood from beneath her sweat. Even so, in his mind, she was still trying to act tough... but she simply needed a release from her nightmares. He could read that much just by hearing the utterances from her lips, the unintelligible words that barely reached his ear and still understood that she was still crying and... mumbling something... something he felt he shouldn''t have known, something he was afraid to know. Something about the colors that didn''t make a lick of sense to him.


    He held her there, she clutched his skin.


    Her voice, it was as clear as the day and his ears weren''t playing tricks on him.


    It was as clear as the nights when he had no control over his own body; like how she could''ve screamed out her troubles without any worry,


    But alas, what was happening before her very own eyes could not be believed. In fact, she refused to think of this moment as possible.


    ...


    A day later, they both woke up to the sound of a thud coming from above.


    "Someone else...?" He said, puzzled.


    "Wait... T-they''re coming."


    "Who!?"


    "...I know th-their voices... but, where do we go?" She was still recovering from the tears she cried the previous night, so all she wanted to do was close her eyes, sleep, and pretend to have forgotten about all her embarrassing display.


    "We have to run, then. I''ll lead the way. Stay close, got it?"


    "Got it..."


    He quickly walked towards the opposite direction from where the sound came from, and touched the wall.


    A door formed in front of them, as if an illusion that was finally exposed for what it truly was. He placed his palm onto it, and pushed forward.


    "Whooosh."


    The harsh winds of the outside world nearly pulled the door and Zabulus away, the only thing visible from in front was nothing but a view of the city of Onkhivol, where he once walked with Onofre.


    No stairs, no gates, no border. Nothing except a fall that would surely be the end of anyone caught up in it, he grabbed Phronta and carried her over his shoulders, and just as he did, he heard voices behind him.


    "HALT! AZKITE! TRAITOR DAUGHTER! YOU ARE PRISONERS OF THE FORTY-EIGHT!"


    "Traitors and criminals will be slain and no longer are able to leave their prison!"


    "Do not move, Azkite!"


    "You will pay for wasting the Forty-Eight''s gift in such a terrible fashion."


    And he only had one response.


    "Bah, fuck you!"


    Lunging forwards onto the air, it became a free-fall that didn''t slow down, and didn''t appear to let up at any rate.


    To make a safe landing, to make sure that Phronta was safe...


    Even though the dark of the devil owed nothing to the light of the angel.

 Infinitesimal and Eternal Folds

    To make sure that Phronta would make it safely, he used only part of what he knew of Phantos.


    The book answered his call, albeit hesitantly and clearly unwilling to work so closely together, especially since Zabulus had practically traumatized Vetro.


    "Make haste, make haste! Create a bouncy castle for us. Or a pillow, a blanket, a bed of trees! Hell, a lake if you please!" Zabulus told the book in desperation.


    It stopped struggling a bit and prepared its creation, drawing a shaky image that made no sense at first.


    From below and below and below. As the images came together, they became a great amount of many things, perhaps the only great thing that could stop a falling body.


    Zabulus ripped away the pieces of reality that once blinded him from being able to see it; this book that had its spine and front covered and yet the pages inside were torn and dry, he simply couldn''t comprehend what lay beyond.


    Corruption seeps out as it continues to hate what is, he simply couldn''t fathom the reasoning why Vetro put up with such an insane existence throughout his life.


    Below, there lay a black circle. A hole? Maybe.


    It was surrounded by a color of dust that made it look and seem grey and rotten, yet he was falling towards this ''hole'' that reflected nothing and was held up by its legs.


    In this perverse depiction that came true, the only things holding the bottommost-hole''s legs from toppling over were its very own thighs.


    At this point, he had no hope that the hole would lead to anywhere good.


    He clutched Phronta tighter as a way of saying ''We''ll be okay, okay?''


    Yet, the only thing he was afraid of now was that neither of them would survive this. And neither would it.


    But to make things worse, his perception had become so fast that he could feel cutlets of his flesh disappear into nothingness.


    he was less than a meter away from this degenerate hole, this unseemly display that looked like the remnants of something great; head-first, he met the hole of an odd smell that was of a crying sky and silver-y blades cutting through anything within their sights, and it all smelled foul and damp as his nose dipped into it.


    There was a touch.


    The hole had a physical essence, not at all what was seen. The skin of something slimy and stretchy, it encompassed his nose, and then his face.


    It all began as if it was alive and moving with a mind of its own. This degenerate, this living blackhole, it would either swallow him whole or allow him to crawl out through its lower end, be it his legs or his ass.


    But none of that happened; even to the point of embarrassment, deep to his bones that he was expecting evil, all that happened was...


    Bounce.


    Sliding off of it, the two of them found a safe and cushioned landing place within the hole itself. They were above ground, they were not in a deep world of chaos that awaited them, and most importantly they could catch the air of paradise.


    Holding Phronta in his arms still, they bounced up and down on this hole, this stringy and rubber-ish ground that allowed the two of them to regain a hold of what the world was.


    Phantos thus spoke: "There was no sense to how and why this could come true, but a trampoline appeared as I drew it, it was not an infinite and eternal hole that would go deep within the depths and devour both of your souls."


    After the bouncing of the trampoline died down, they both lay there to catch some air. No one was here, they were in a location nobody visited in Onkhivol.


    "A trampoline? What is this... thing? A bounce castle? What is that? Can it fly? Can we get away?" He asked the book, and he held the cover up to his face. It showed nothing. And told him nothing.


    "And why is there a trampoline made of... hm... It looks like black ooze." He continued to speak without much thought.


    But no response came.


    "God damned useless thing! At any rate, saving us with this trampoline thing was valuable." Managing to keep himself composed, the book then faded into air as it rejoined his soul.


    "A-ah... I''m... I''m n-not meant to be here! I-If the White Queen s-sees me outside... she might think that I''m betraying e-everyone!" Phronta attempted to clasp her face in different spots.


    "So what? You already came here with me, and I''m certain I can reason with her, she''s a friend! Don''t worry Phronta, I''m sure I can get through her skull." With a bit of a cheerful tone, he tried to up her spirit.


    Though the girl remained afraid and attempted to scuttle towards Zabulus; but the weightlessness of the trampoline caused her to bounce and trip over as it was nothing that she was accustomed to. She fell beside him and tried to shield herself from the fall¡ªBut nothing came of it as she simply bounced once again off of the surface of the trampoline and laid there, embarrassed.


    "Um... Are you...?"


    "N-nothing! It''s nothing... L-let''s get off this thing and..." Realizing she had no real plan here, her sentence was cut with silence.


    "Yeah, sounds reasonable. We have to find Onofre and tell her about those crazed cultist people-"


    "No! We can''t do that! S-she''ll know me by my clothing a-and will kill me if she f-finds out that I left the outer-walls... I-I don''t want to die..." Phronta protested his suggestion, but it seemed to be in vain as he responded.


    "It''ll be okay, I promise. She''s a friend, she wouldn''t hurt me or anyone that...I care about..." He felt out of place saying that he cared about Phronta. He knew full-well it was the Reiah part of him that said those words, but the influence on himself was not to be denied. To him, Reiah was now nothing but a demon disguised as everything he wanted to be. A good sibling, a loved person, a capable being...


    His own words threw him for a loop, spiraling down the drain of negativity until his focus was broken by Phronta speaking.


    "Before long... I''ll end up crooked to the core... I''ll be calm and joyful, unfazed by the world as it is. That is why I must-"


    Zabulus stared at Phronta, her words hanging in the air like a horrible prophecy. "Crooked to the core? What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice tinged with a certain confusion and a growing unease. He reached out to steady her as she wobbled on the trampoline, her small frame trembling not just from the bouncing but from something deeper, something he couldn¡¯t yet grasp. Something that came from this crooked, creaking universe.


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    Phronta¡¯s eyes darted to the side, avoiding his gaze, her fingers twisting nervously into the hem of her sleeve. "I-I didn¡¯t mean to say that out loud," she stammered, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It¡¯s just¡­ something she told me once. The White Queen. She said I¡¯d change, that I¡¯d stop being afraid one day, but it wouldn¡¯t be a good thing. She said I¡¯d smile while the world burned, and I¡¯d be the one holding the torch." Her words spilled out like a floodgate bursting, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as if to shove the words back in.


    Zabulus blinked, his mind racing to process Phronta¡¯s confession. The White Queen¡¯s words clung to the air like a curse, and he couldn¡¯t shake the image of Phronta¡ªtimid, trembling Phronta¡ªwielding fire and grinning through what would be death.


    He gripped on her shoulder, unsure if he was steadying her or himself.


    The trampoline beneath them creaked faintly, its black, ooze-like surface rippling as if it too sensed the weight of her words. Zabulus glanced down at it, half-expecting it to swallow them again, but it held firm¡ªa strange, silent witness to their stale existence.


    Phronta pulled her knees to her chest, her voice muffled against them as she spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t want that, I don''t... I don¡¯t want to stop caring, even if it hurts to feel everything.¡± Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the dull grey sky above.


    To feel everything; in flight from its stale infinite depth, feeling was never going to leave her. Not even in spite of her ''change''.


    He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say to that? That he¡¯d protect her from a fate she feared more than death itself? That he¡¯d keep her from becoming the White Queen¡¯s twisted vision? He wasn¡¯t even sure he could protect himself.


    No... This was that same clumsy and joyful Onofre she was talking about, ''Not a chance that this was no more than a terrible misunderstanding, right?''


    Phronta lifted her head, her expression hardening for a fleeting moment. ¡°If we go to the Queen, promise me you won¡¯t let her near me,¡± she said, her voice steadier than before. ¡°I don¡¯t trust her, Zabulus. Not after what the Queen said.¡±


    The words echoed, over and over. But he remained silent until the echoes died, only the feeling of conflict moving towards a greater purpose.


    ''To what end do I have to put up with this? To what end must I have no voice in these fates?'' This thought filled his damaged mind, pain filled his damaged heart.


    Zabulus stared where the sky bent unnaturally into jagged edges. Phronta clung to his arm, her breaths shallow, as if the air itself might turn against her.


    Phronta¡¯s fingers traced the edge of the black ooze, her curiosity battling her fear. ¡°It¡¯s warm,¡± she murmured, pulling back as if it might bite, ¡°like it¡¯s alive and waiting.¡±


    From above came a flicker of silver, a blade of light slicing through the clouds. Zabulus shielded his eyes, half-expecting it to strike them down, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.


    The book pulsed faintly in his soul, its presence a nagging itch he couldn¡¯t scratch. He muttered to it, ¡°Show me something useful,¡± but it remained silent, stubborn as ever.


    A shadow stretched across the trampoline, long and thin, with no source to cast it. Phronta squeaked and pressed closer, her voice trembling, ¡°W-what¡¯s that? Is it her?¡±


    Zabulus kicked at the ooze, testing its strength, and it jiggled beneath his foot like a living thing. "God, you disgusting fucking book, this isn''t a thing, this is a living being!"


    He felt the pulse once again in his soul, as if being mocked by Phantos, as if saying "Gotcha!"


    ...


    After walking for a few minutes across the alleys of Onkhivol, Zabulus and Phronta remained silent.


    He thought, for a moment. If she was to act so timid and closed-off, then could Onofre''s Prophecy be the reason? Because she did not want to become what she was said to become?


    Phronta¡¯s grip on his arm tightened as they walked, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Zabulus... do you really think she¡¯ll listen to you? I mean... She''s THE queen! Not just anybody you find in the walls or... The outside...¡± She wasn¡¯t looking at him, just staring ahead, her expression caught somewhere between doubt and something heavier¡ªlike she wanted to believe him but had already decided it wouldn¡¯t matter.


    Zabulus exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. ¡°She¡¯ll listen. I¡¯ve fought beside her, Phronta¡ªagainst the Amalgamates, you know. Those weird flesh pigs that are made up of literally anything. And she always called me ¡®boyo¡¯ like I was some stray she picked up, but I could tell... in her own way, she actually cared.¡± He glanced at Phronta then, his expression laid unreadable. ¡°That¡¯s why I know she won¡¯t hurt you. She wouldn''t be so unreasonable."


    Having gone through this same interaction 10 times in this walk, he was beginning to feel a sense of Deja Vu.


    Phronta¡¯s shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping to the ground as Zabulus¡¯s words hung between them as if from a thread. She nodded faintly, her lips pressed tight, though her heart still churned with Onofre''s words, words that changed her life forever¡ªunconvinced, she let the silence swallow her dread, resigning herself to whatever awaited her next.


    Zabulus, mistaking her quiet for trust and acceptance, gave her a reassuring squeeze and spoke, ¡°See? Onofre¡¯s not so bad¡ªshe¡¯ll get it, you¡¯ll see.¡± his voice brighter with a joy she couldn''t quite feel at this moment.


    Her eyes stayed on the ground, but she said nothing more. To her, this was surrender, not agreement¡ªan acceptance that her fate might as well be in tatters due to this.


    ...


    Now at the centre of the city, a place filled with markets and no homeless people in sight¡ªwith a towering white spire piercing the sky far beyond the clouds in front of them.


    Zabulus walked forward, Phronta trailing close behind him, her steps hesitant as the cacophony of the city thrust its way into her mind.


    Crowds meandered about, their voices a low hum until sharp whispers cut through, eyes snagging on Phronta¡¯s patterned robe.


    ¡°Oi, look at that¡ªWall Dweller threads, ain¡¯t they? What¡¯s one of them doing this deep in the city?¡± a grunge man muttered, elbowing his companion as they passed.


    A woman nearby squinted, her tone dripping with suspicion. ¡°Those markings... she¡¯s from the outer rims, no doubt. Heard they don¡¯t leave the walls ¡®less they¡¯re running¡ªor doing somethin'' worse.¡± She clicked her tongue, turning away as Phronta shrank into Zabulus¡¯s shadow, her face burning under the onlooker''s stares.


    Zabulus walked faster, pulling Phronta along as the whispers grew into a murmur that buzzed like flies around them, her robe only drawing more unwanted eyes and more harsh words her way.


    Phronta¡¯s breath hitched, her fingers digging into his arm as she muttered, ¡°T-they¡¯re all looking at me... I shouldn¡¯t be here.... I-I should just return t-to the walls...¡± her voice trembling under the weight of the crowd¡¯s judgment. But because of their loudness, her words fell on deaf ears.


    The tower grew closer, its polished surface reflecting the sunlight, and Zabulus gritted his teeth, muttering, ¡°Keep moving¡ªwe¡¯re almost there,¡± as he shoved past a gawking merchant.


    The air thickened with tension as they reached the spire¡¯s base, the crowd beginning to lessen and lessen as it became less of ''people'' and more of ''guards'' that stood there in a static manner.


    Then the massive doors of the tower burst open, with Onofre storming out, her face twisted in fury, her light blue hair flowing as she hit the ground with each heavy step of hers.


    "A-ah!" Phronta hid behind Zabulus instinctively.


    Onofre''s face quickly changed from one of Fury to confusion as she noticed that Zabulus was in front of her, her pink lips quickly changing form from a terrible frown to a smile, her white eyes opening as if they were wide gates.


    "Boyo! Where have you been for all this time?! Oh, come here you!" As if uncaring about how long it has been (roughly 2 days), she ran up and hugged him tightly.


    "Ah... you know... I''ve been looking around... I met someone here and there and- Huah?!"


    Onofre''s embrace made him trip to the side as she put her cheek up to his and caressed it. "And don''t go worrying me like that again, boyo! Up and disappearing isn''t the best thing to do to a friend!"


    With Zabulus down for the count... Phronta was now fully visible to Onofre''s sight.


    "Huh?"


    "Huh...?"


    "H-huh?"


    "That''s..." Onofre quickly got off of Zabulus and composed herself; changing completely in attitude. "Unsightly of me to do, I am the White Queen and-"


    "Wait- Wait- Wait!" Zabulus intervened, expecting nothing less than a short monologue before Onofre kills Phronta... Except she didn''t quite notice the patterns on her robe nor recognize her face.


    "What? I''m just trying to give myself a good look dammit! What''s wrong with you, boyo?"


    "Huh? Oh... my bad. Sorry, you can go on. I must''ve misread! Honest!" If there could be a reflection on his ''eyes'', or any form of lid, then it''d pronounce ''Fear''. But he had no reason to fear, since she was as stupid as him.

 Let me see you in the light

    Onofre tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as her gaze finally locked onto Phronta. ¡°And who¡¯s this? You picked up a stray, boyo?¡± Her voice carried a bemusement edged with the slightest curiosity.


    Phronta quivered under the scrutiny, the silence thudding in her ears like a heartbeat. She stepped closer to Zabulus, but he felt no tension in this movement of hers; it was more as if she was resigned to this already.


    ¡°I¡¯m...¡± she began, her voice faltering before finding its footing again. ¡°I¡¯m Phronta.¡±


    Onofre raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you just soft-spoken! I hope you¡¯re not here to put me to sleep.¡± She chuckled, tilting her head back with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.


    Zabulus scratched his head awkwardly with one of his four hands, trying to read some sort of expression from Phronta. Her face, usually so timid and hidden, seemed to carry a certain fear now.


    ¡°We¡¯re staying for a while,¡± he said, glancing between the two women, gauging the distance between them in ways both metric and emotional. ¡°I know it¡¯s sudden, but there¡¯s been... things going on recently.¡±


    Onofre waved a dismissive hand, her laughter now a little more wary. ¡°You¡¯re always in some mess or another. Must be your natural state of being.¡± Her gaze flicked back to Phronta, searching this time with a sharper edge. ¡°And you¡¯ve got yourself tangled up in it too, hmm?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes,¡± Phronta answered softly, her eyes meeting Onofre¡¯s with a defiance that surprised even herself. ¡°T-though it seems I¡¯ve been tangled up m-more than I intended...¡± The words tasted bitter on her tongue, the memory of Onofre¡¯s little prophecy continuing to linger on her mind.


    She continued to hope that no matter what, Onofre will not realize who she is, but she knew little of what the White Queen was capable of... Though, all seemed fine for now.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re here now,¡± Onofre said with a shrug, her interest already starting to wane. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to get used to your quiet face around the place.¡±


    Phronta nodded, the gesture small like a flinch. There was no joy in it, only the tremor of acceptance.


    Zabulus took a breath like he had just remembered how, relief washing over his posture. ¡°See? No problem at all,¡± he said, though his words seemed more like wishful thinking than certainty.


    The guards shifted around them, their presence a constant reminder of where they stood and how far from sanctuary Phronta felt. The city loomed behind her, alive with murmurs she couldn''t unhear.


    ¡°Show her the ropes while you¡¯re here, will you?¡± Onofre¡¯s voice broke through her thoughts. She stretched lazily, then grinned at Zabulus. ¡°And don¡¯t you dare leave without telling me again or I¡¯ll wring your neck, really!¡±


    "What do you mean show her the ropes!? I know as little as a child about this damned place! You¡¯d be better off doing it yourself!¡± Zabulus''s protest was met with a playful swat from Onofre, her laughter ringing out like a bell.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re hopeless! Maybe you¡¯ll learn something while you pretend to be useful, boyo.¡± She winked, then turned and sauntered back into the tower, her presence as overwhelming as her exit was abrupt.


    Left standing in the open, Phronta and Zabulus exchanged a glance. The guards stared with sullen eyes that betrayed nothing of their thoughts, forming a wall of suspicion between them and the city beyond.


    ¡°She¡¯s not that bad,¡± Zabulus said, his voice low so only Phronta could hear. ¡°And she didn¡¯t see through you either. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Phronta nodded again, though this time her fingers clutched at the fabric of her robe. ¡°Safe,¡± she echoed, the word barely more than an exhalation.


    ¡°What are you two doing? Come follow!¡± She hurriedly tried to lead them into the all-white spire, her voice echoing down a long hall.


    Zabulus shrugged, the gesture a peculiar blend of lightheartedness and unease. ¡°Stay with me.¡±


    They followed, Phronta holding tight to Zabulus as they crossed the threshold of the gate, leaving the city behind for the stale silence of the interior. The walls soared above them like alabaster cliffs, cold and impersonal.


    Phronta shivered. There was a chill here that had nothing to do with temperature. A feeling of isolation draped over her like a thick cloak, heavy... terrible...


    She felt her knees nearly give in due to the sheer amount of fear and uncertainty in her heart.


    Zabulus caught her before she fell, steadying her against the trembling. He said nothing, but his presence was solid for her, anchoring her back to being able to properly walk.


    They moved deeper into the tower, Onofre always just ahead, her form a flash of white and light-blue in the overwhelming pallor. She led them through corridors that twisted like thoughts half-formed, each turn more disorienting than the last.


    ¡®This place wasn¡¯t... so directionally challenged before, was it? I could be misremembering.¡¯ Zabulus thought to himself. ¡®And where could she be leading us? Not back to that war-room, I hope...¡¯ Conditions met without even a sigh of relief, that place never really left him feeling too comfortable, even if he was there for less than ten minutes.


    She led them into a chamber larger than seemed possible, the ceiling lost in clouds. The walls were lined with shelves, each one crammed full of maps and parchments. A table dominated the center, heaped with scrolls like the aftermath of some scholarly storm.


    ¡°This is where you¡¯ll be staying, boyo and woman!¡± Onofre announced, gesturing around as if presenting a grand palace.


    Zabulus stared at the piles with what could only be described as horror. ¡°Here? This doesn¡¯t even look like a proper-¡± Room. He meant to say, but he never truly stayed in a proper room throughout his life. Hazy memories of a reflective-glass house and a murmur that never left in his mind.


    ¡°Don¡¯t complain, okay boyo? This is the best I have right now, I mean... hell, If you saw my room your mind would be in shambles! Really!¡± She proudly said with confidence, as if having a stuffy or uncomfortable room was something to brag about...


    Phronta looked around, the room¡¯s silence feeling comforting after the humiliation she felt outside. Stepping away from Zabulus¡¯s side for the first time in this place, she moved hesitantly toward a shelf to look at a book that caught her eye.


    ¡®Enker¡¯s Malice¡¯, it read on the spine.


    ¡°E-excuse me... Are we allowed t-to read these...?¡± She questioned in a low tone, so low that you could mistake it for the wind. So low... She could even be the wind!


    ¡°Yes! Tinker with whatever you like until you find a bed under all that mess!¡± Onofre waved a hand as if telling her to touch the book. ¡°And don¡¯t touch anything I wouldn¡¯t! Not that there is anything I wouldn¡¯t touch... ha!¡± Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the hallway, leaving them surrounded by the quiet of the room, with no proper guidance as to what to do here.


    Just... Lead and dropped in a room, nothing else said, nothing else known.


    ¡°I know, you¡¯re tired and confused right now. Probably, but it wasn¡¯t that bad, was it? After all, she¡¯s a good person. She even gave a stranger a place to stay in... Though it is weird that she never considered that you might have your own place. I think.¡± He said as he sank to the floor with an exaggerated sigh, pushing aside books and scrolls to make space for his knees.


    His speech was met with only a faint, lingering whisper, "Okay... okay... okay..." that seemed more of a desperate prayer than a reply. "I... Think I shouldn''t be here... This might sound obsessive of me but... Am I an issue right now? To you, to the potential outcome... or just me?" Her face was cast to the side, she had a weak smile that didn''t reach her eyes as she cast her mind off the questions that swirled in her head.


    Zabulus noticed her face. "Don''t you ruin that smile, my little willow tree!" His random burst of positivity seemed to somewhat sway her smile, but it did not reach her eyes yet.


    "Geez, do you really have to put it that way? Aren''t you an adult in terms of age?" She said as the corners of her mouth reluctantly formed the same shape as it did before. "You never did answer my question though."


    "Are you an issue? Why would you be an issue? I''ve chosen to help you on my own accord, okay? No strings attached!" Zabulus stated before letting a laugh escape, causing her to relax a little, or a lot.


    ''Is my own perspective ever real in these situations? Damn me... I shouldn''t ruin such a moment.'' She said to herself in her head.


    But the moments kept coming, and so did Phronta''s stubbornness to have more talks.


    She turned around as the conversation ended and picked up that book once again, ''Enker''s Malice'', and took it towards a spot where less books lay and sat down in a cross-legged way. She opened up the book, with a picture of a red child''s face on the right with black tears, his hair a gradient of white-black at the tips. She traced a hand along the child''s figure, her pale finger barely touching its shape. ''Seems you''re a depressive fellow,'' she said to herself before flipping through pages that were colored to be the color of blood, but the shapes are incomprehensible to her.


    And when the pages turned further, the book got darker, literally. Soon enough, the pages turned almost completely pitch-black, she slammed the book shut instantly, her body beginning to quiver from some sort of adrenaline. She then got up and placed it back where she found it. "Guess I didn''t want to read that anymore, eh?" She joked to herself, nobody hearing her little jab at herself.


    She let out a breath, and gazed off to where Zabulus sat. He had his hands full with scrolls, his ''head'' focused on something within one''s range of vision and his mouth babbling. With an image of that in mind, a smile crawled across her face, reaching her eyes and allowing her to see her surroundings with clarity and delight.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    In a moment of thought, she realized she shouldn''t feel this way within such a situation she and Zabulus have entered. Especially for his safety, her entire existence here was a ticking time bomb that was begging to be set off. And just remembering this fact... gave her an even deeper sense of fear in this already overwhelming situation. A moment of happiness overturned into a pit of anxiety...


    "Phronta?" A familiar voice sounded out, a face looking down at her, his expression showing worry. "Are you okay?"


    "H-huah?!" Caught by surprise, she glanced around, her own breathing sounding more rapid in the silent air of the room, she gazed back, his ''eyes'' making contact with hers as she said, "Oh... Oh, yeah... Y-yeah... I''m just... Scared..." She breathed, "Very... very scared..."


    "But... how can I complain? Haha... Look, I''m more afraid about the outcome of your life if the White Queen finds out, Zabulus, more t-than my own. That''s how scared I am!" She exclaimed before pausing for a few seconds, then finishing it by saying, "B-but I also feel hopeful, really... Like you''re here to save me." The words that come out her mouth do not reach her feelings, but her thoughts cannot describe the feeling, there aren''t enough words that could describe it.


    "I can only do this because of what I have done, if I''m not the result of it all, then it would never happen." He spoke, his hands expressing a tone of sincerity.


    Just as he was about to continue speaking, the entrance to the room was now wide open. A guard entered the room and looked around at the sheer mess in the room, her mouth moving without noise. Then... an inhale, and air getting stuck, for she saw the both of them. The Azkite that stole her light, and a wall-dweller in the tower.


    One of the two, she aimed for.


    A blade drawn and blood beginning to form and siphon around it, she took a deep and tense breath as it walked closer to him.


    No words were said by Ixothrozophella, who went straight for Zabulus.


    The aim of her blade was a major target on his body, as it was meant to pierce his stomach. But as her foot left the ground for the stabbing motion, it all happened in slow motion, at least for her.


    Zabulus assessed her trajectory, dodging the blade just as he moved to the left and asking, "Woah! W-what''s this about?!"


    "Failure is imminent, is it not? You weren''t too sharp back then, nor are you sharp now." Ixothrophella''s words sounded more aggressive than they should be... More... Determined? It''s as if, after seeing her failure in a near miss, that she would go farther than anyone has, with one exception: Make sure that the wall dweller lives to see this, live to see her growth and power! To be admired by someone else for destroying and killing evil, to be finally accepted by the one she looked up to her entire life. To be respected, and not thrown away to be treated like she was less than she should be! To feel the ecstasy of success first hand!


    The gaze of the two met, her eyes staring into his void of a vision, and her hands began to flow with crimson... An overwhelming red that splashed and stained the color white, even to her hands, even to the white tower.


    Phronta shook in her spot, covering her eyes and hoping none of this would end badly, she hid in a corner with plenty of books hiding her away, like a scared kid in a locker, a small noise being able to be heard if one was right behind the locker and listened.


    With the action at a sudden stop, Zabulus reacted to the atmosphere with his body rather than his words. He didn''t want to hurt the person who was attacking him. Even though, as far as he can tell, she was attacking with murderous intent. The way she looked into him was terrifying to Phronta. But Zabulus... He didn''t see it. And neither could he, as Ixothrozophella stepped alone in a way he hadn''t seen before, an aggressiveness of such, that it looked as if she would pounce any second... Any second, she moved, a huge distance between her and Zabulus.


    "Do you remember me... Azkite? Or has the sunlight given you some sort of mind disorder?! Too much stress?" She took another step to the side as she spoke and continued to close the distance between them, "Not so much of a monster anymore, huh? Do you perhaps wanna run from a battle you could not win!? Not very monster-like if you ask me... You pile of shit!" She lunged forward, not in a stabbing fashion, but a ducking down type of attack.


    ''What the hell is this tactic?! How does she think she''s gonna-''


    He had no time to finish his sentence in his head, as he was shoved onto the ground with Ixothrozophella as she gripped the sides of his chest and, ''She must have no intent in killing me? Right?''


    As the last letter of the thought in his head escaped, she slammed him on the ground in a fashion that stunned him, "What now, huh?! Still want to make me lose my light?! Still want to steal all my pride!? Not even one word from you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Now look at me, the better one. Not an inferior fool in this room who wishes for others to look at her, at someone like a tool and only a tool. Someone who has their own light and knows exactly where to use it, not a girl who doesn''t know what their own light even is!" Her tantrum reached a peak point and turned around, giving Phronta the time to intervene and latch her arms onto her from behind.


    "P-please stop! W-we don''t know what''s going on a-and-" Before she could continue to plead her case, Ixothrozophella threw Phronta off with only a push back knocking her over, standing over Zabulus with an expression on her face. An expression... manic and disgusted, twitching from her rage. The grin across her face said it all, She''d kill him.


    But Zabulus had plans to live, knocking her off her feet by thrusting his leg upwards, with a kick that caused a sound louder than a whisper to ring. Ixothrozophella went flying backwards a small amount before landing and sliding forward on her own. She had a laugh escaping her lungs as her crazed look stayed the same and her breathing slowed down.


    "Do you know what it took me to get here? To lie to my own progenitor and save the light for someone who''s inferior?" The words cut through the air as she rushed towards Zabulus who was now standing; his center of mass being brought backwards as a way to balance. A sword swung horizontally, attempting to bisect his chest as it swung, her expression being filled with an emotion, a rush of pride, or that was the mask to cover the despair of her action''s failure. As the swing whiffed his upper torso, leaving a gap enough for him to easily walk in and... punch. He landed a gut punch. That hit hurt his fist as much as it hurt her torso. And as the world kept spinning, so did she... She landed against the white wall with her own blood splattered all around. A stuttering laugh coming from her lungs. She had only a second to stare at Zabulus before she kicked herself off the wall to begin another round of combat.


    "P-please! Can we h-have a civilized discussion!" Phronta begged Ixothrozophella from the sideline as books and scrolls started raining from the shelves above, Zabulus stood there with a bloodied fist as the rain of paper would create a higher ground for his position.


    But even the sounds of books dropping were muffled, a ringing was forming in his ears... A voice, a familiar voice.


    ''....''s...''s...! Geez man, are you just a puppet without strings, huh!? Are you going to listen to me at any point?! Oh, I''m through!'' Vetro''s voice echoed through his soul in an echo of his old voice before Zabulus responded.


    ''Now''s not the time! Not a puppet, not a toy, I have not a speck of those things left in me. But more importantly, I have to fight! I have to protect Phronta otherwise, otherwise...'' And suddenly the floor felt sticky, more than anything before. Phronta stared as Ixothrozophella grinned once again and prepared to swing as she was thrusting through the air once again.


    ''Listen to me, boy. Your posture. Fix that!''


    ''Oh fuck off, now''s seriously not the time to joke! Just show up and give some kind of fighting assistance! And just how can I fix this?'' Zabulus cried out.


    ''It''s so simple, move to your right a few paces, get low, and let her fall and move forward. To kill, boy. That''s what you do!''


    Moving in sync with his words, he managed to fix his posture slightly, and positioned his legs in a manner that allowed him to quickly move to the right just as he was about to be hit, her weapon slashed into the air and...


    Another whiff.


    ''Guess I do know more about how to defeat someone than you.'' Vetro said.


    "Lady, I don''t even know what you''re doing and why you''re doing it! Couldn''t we talk this out?!"


    She face-planted on the ground as she failed to land her attacks on his body.


    "No... I won''t let you... live to take the light of another!" She sprung up like an animal from the bushes, swinging her blade in a sideways motion in order to meet his arm''s surface, the very tip of her weapon cutting his elbow open with a trail of crimson dripping.


    He stumbled backwards with a grunt, a stinging pain flowing from his left arm down to his leg, causing it to go limp for just a few seconds.


    Zabulus then asked, "Am I possibly the wrong person?! Please, I need some answers here! Who exactly do you think I am?!"


    "Answers, you want answers! That''s really cute but... I''m no longer who I was before! But... if I were to tell you one thing, it''d be that... YOU STOLE MY LIGHT! STOLED MY MERIT, AND FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT REASON MUST ONOFRE SET HER HATRED BELOW AND OFFER SOMEONE LIKE YOU THIS HEAVENLY WHITE TOWER. TELL ME, AZKITE!"


    "Hold on... Does Onofre know your doing this? Is she part of this or does she not know?!"


    "SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING I DO! SHE DOES!"


    ''So... I was... Betrayed? Betrayed? Goddamn it, I think she might win in this situation, if Onofre seriously knew about this and sent her here to kill me... Then I stand no chance, as that would also mean she could send some guards to pin me down...'' He smiled in defeat. ''All those moments together, all for nothing, huh? I guess not even keeping a friend would change my fate.''


    His blank face met hers in a stare as if he wasn''t mentally there.


    Slowly, he walked towards her and she put her guard up.


    Ixothrozophella summoned a great force as if to move the Azkite away, as if to tell him that her power was greater than his.


    That she was deserving of Onofre''s love.


    That she was deserving of seeing that man once again.


    That she was deserving of being everyone''s friend.


    That she was deserving.


    "N-No... Zabulus... Get back, s-she''ll just k-kill you if you-" Phronta pleaded but her voice drowned under her own anxiety as the room''s walls seemed to fold in on themselves.


    But he was undeterred. He walked through the wind and force that opposes his very core. Through the violent force of the Library''s power, he felt his body be shaken from within, even his bones vibrating and threatening to burst out from the inside of him.


    If I were to describe his thoughts then and there, they''d be of ''Determination, Defiance, Distance, and Desperation... ''


    With that force shaking him and almost stopping his body from going any further, he finally saw himself standing directly in front of the now-fearful girl. And in his mind he pondered why her expression seemed fearful of him, the reason someone would fear another would be if they''re dangerous... or about to do something they don''t want to, no matter how it would happen. And this feeling caused her to get one foot backwards in pure dread, her entire mind only being able to comprehend his form and see it in a way that terrified her.


    Her helmet rolled on the ground.


    Revealing a face that wasn''t scarred. A face that was only tearful.


    Her mouth moved, but it produced no sound.


    All her change; it was meant to be in his name, only, only, only, and only for him.


    It was only his name she repeated until it turned into a mumble of blabber before her voice failed her, she could hardly speak after the adrenaline rushed past her and the trembling of her nerves refused to ease.


    Absolute failure. That was her punishment, a total loss.


    To fail against someone who barely even fought back? Just how could she go back to Onofre now? No, how could she even show her face to anyone?


    He placed one of his right hands on her face, grasping her left cheek with the cold and firm touch of a metal hand, his other hand grasping the wrist that held her sword. He had her wrist in a steel grip.


    Tears, tears, and more tears.


    It flowed more than a dam that could not be broken.


    Her tear ducts would not stop their operation. Her tears simply flooded over. It was quite easy to see them pooling under her, the droplet''s size being small, yet, very many.


    For she could not foresee a future where she could ever make herself proud. For she had her pride taken away once again by this rotten creature that stood in front of her.


    Her breathing was ragged, and she inhaled loudly, tears clouding her vision and her muscles giving way to the new emotions she was feeling... She fell over.


    ''Look at her! She''s basically begging to be killed!'' Vetro said.


    But Zabulus heeded him not. His fingertips clasping around her hand, letting the sword clatter down to the floor.


    His fingertips clasping her face, flowing in memories of hers.


    Their bodies moving closer in an embrace, Zabulus muttering a whisper that escaped his mind.


    "Onofre did not betray me... Not completely," and he pulled his head from her shoulder and ''gazed'' into her eyes.


    "Now... Let me see your mind."

 A Day of Happiness

    Her knees grew weak as she stared at Zabulus in a tearful anger that went hand-in-hand with embarrassment.


    She stepped back, a line of salty water still running from her red and wet eyes. Only allowed to move her lips and produce some sort of incomprehensible murmur that spoke of sorrow, hopelessness.


    A memory rushed to Zabulus'' mind as he kept contact with her...


    ''The suns are dying... Yet their beauty lasts... They are strong... Yet their spirit remains low... They are beautiful... Yet they''re dying... Why?''


    A man spoke to him¡ªOnce to her.


    On a day as dark and dreadful as any day, a scene played in an unknown place, a white beautiful landscape, untainted by the blackness of the world outside the library. A blackness, or a seed of darkness that laid waste to many worlds...


    Zabulus slowly withdrew his arm, ''eyes'' looking for hers, yet, it would find none.


    ''Say... do you fear death?'' The man asked. There was no answer, and thus he laughed. ''Hahaha, of course you do. It''s only natural to fear death; you wouldn''t want to die, of course not. You want to keep living, just for a little longer, even if it meant pain in the process, would you agree, Ixo?''


    The girl lifted her gaze, red and glossy eyes meeting a much darker pair in a shade similar to a void.


    She did not want to, in truth, for in her young mind, death is a fate worse than living for just a while longer.


    For no matter what, you have an end that is soon reached, no matter how long.


    You could have the greatest day, but no matter your wealth, it means nothing, and the last breath is there.


    That would be the reason to fear death, to keep on living so the thought would have less gravity.


    And so she spoke, ''Yes... Yes, I would. Death, I''ve never experienced, but in some way, it haunts me... It haunts my dreams, yet in another, it''s my only savior. I-I don''t want to handle the ever-changing state of mind and the constant loss of moments. I don''t want to go through the dread of losing my happiness the moment it shines, the moments when I know not the fear of death because my hope blinds me. Those... Those are the most painful moments of them all, for... If death decides when happiness ends, then we''ve all experienced death at least once a day...'' Her tone was low as a hum, her head rested on her knees as she sat down against a wall, the only brightness coming from the windows, the windows which were covered by pure white curtains. She felt alone. ''I haven''t known loneliness for a long time, but I''ve known the feeling of not knowing it. It was that moment that I remember, that I felt loneliness for the first time. I felt my happiness escape me and- And it was dreadful. Not the loneliness, but the death of my happiness.''


    ''Then you do not know the meaning of pain, then? Laughter is death''s favorite gift! Each day you suffer brings the feeling you call happiness, do you understand?'' His voice boomed and made her flinch, the man who spoke had a bigger shadow as he approached her.


    He sat down next to her, with a little bit of distance in-between them.


    ''Tell me, Ixo, when does death visit? When is death always nearby?''


    She sat silently, contemplating the question and trying to come up with an answer. But her answer was far from the correct one. For in her head she pictured her creation and... A younger Ixo''s memory played out in the scene.


    Onofre would''ve told her she was proud of her, but she hadn''t met her at this point in time.


    ''I think it''s... every day. Any day at this point, maybe some sort of cruel prank where one could live forever and ever, with only the loss of one''s moments of happiness...'' She answered as she gripped the scarf covering her shoulders. The girl held the feeling of sadness well. ''What about you? When does death visit to you?''


    ''Hmm... Death to me is a constant, like a father or mother always in their house, death is there to welcome you. Even today, the air feels denser with its presence, does it not?'' He inquired as he pointed to the sky and leaned over to take a glimpse at Ixothrozophella''s face. ''Death comes for many reasons, many reasons... Pain is usually associated, and the end of life is the most common. Everyone has their own death, I mean that as in, when the pain ends, the one experiencing the suffering may believe that they died, or worse, may not survive the next breath.''


    He sounded too grim for her liking as she dug her head into the red scarf... The sight and the smell was nostalgic, not nostalgic in a good way, though, as some sort of nauseous feeling invaded her stomach and made her turn pale... It was a red color that wasn''t crimson like that of a rose, more similar to blood... ''I would''ve expected... But... My memory says otherwise... They never told me where this was, I do not recognize its scenery at all... Maybe, if I just focus more...'' She took her head out of the fabric and looked closer into the field of nothing but white for miles on end... She sighed and rubbed her head. ''Do you think death is outside?''


    The question caught him by surprise, but a smile formed on his face. ''Are you curious about what death is like, or are you curious about what it''s like being death? Heh, well, I''ve seen death many times. I''d love to think of myself as a being who harbors it. But I know I''m just a lowly Librarian. Hell, just look around anywhere you can find! The world is ours! We don''t have to worry about getting a damn job, worry about paying for an apartment... Nothin'' but you and me! The same can''t be said of your friends outside, they''d never dream of finding a place like this... But it''s only a part of it. Come with me, come with me as I open another layer to our lives together.'' His tone of voice grew grim and lightened up afterwards, as if there wasn''t anything wrong, with a wave of his hand that invited Ixo, the two approached a floating box that didn''t have a wall keeping it there. With a key that held many elements, he entered a code and pulled on it... A button activated the device as the wall opened into a staircase heading down and inwards, their lights turning on as he led the way...


    ''Don''t tell anyone about this...'' He whispered under his breath, and their path became one in darkness with walls on the side. ''It''s going to feel a lot different to be here in a few hours.''


    She was confused, but curiosity got to her as she felt the descent down the stairs was long and winding, as her legs could not wait to go down and...


    There, a place littered with coffins. Hundreds upon hundreds of them in one big room that she was supposed to find homey in a sense, to keep her calm.


    But her face didn''t express anything. His face expressed something along the lines of remorse.


    ''This is... An alternative, as we say in our language. Some like to call us ''Undying Pieces of Shit'', some like to think of us as a higher being than God, a demon, something greater. To us, it is just... Nothing, only a source of pain.'' He opened the lid of one coffin, the color that peeked her eyes was a blinding yellow as she squinted and turned away her head from the radiance of it all. He ushered her to enter, and she did so in compliance...


    It was nothing but an extremely bright void, not at all resembling the emptiness of a galaxy or an ocean without light in her eyes, for they would only remain closed after being exposed to the intense light. ''Oh...? So it is that nothing is more painful than something? Oh, I see...'' His muffled voice could only barely be understood, as her senses could not work properly with her eyes shut and a loss of some sort of a 6th sense in the situation.


    ''To die is... For a moment to be gone... To forget a moment is to lose yourself. I see.''


    The coffin lid opened. She woke up in a jolt, the tears that soaked the corner of her eye still wet on her cheeks and her breathing rapid. ''This feeling of... Remembrance, what is this?''


    ''It''s the life and memory of a past Librarian, probably.'' His voice made her remember a dream, but it felt different.


    ''Then are we like a chain? A chain that doesn''t break in a sense?''


    ''....''s....''s....''s...''


    The memory ended and Zabulus'' consciousness rushed back into the physical realm and back inside himself once again.


    The crying face of Ixothrozophella made him feel sorrow in his heart. But in a single moment his sorrow was replaced with an indifference, his eyes glanced off to where Phronta was; a blank stare as if in deep contemplation.


    Zabulus drew back a step.


    Ixothrozophella raced farther to her advantage, and finally, after hours of a constant struggle, after years of hoping...


    Perhaps blinded by her tears, or possibly ignoring them... Her blade would miss Zabulus, leaving a space between her and him. She now only felt the need to die, as seeing that memory once again was nothing short of excruciating. And what better to cut her body apart, for what purpose? Maybe as a final ''Screw you'' to the world around her, the same one he tried to make for her.


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    The weapon clattered to the ground once again as he bent down to grab the blade.


    "Az- Azkite... Demon... a-a-ah... Demon, to think I fell into this mess...!!?" Her legs and body felt heavy as a foreign and surreal feeling came over her. "You... Y-you destroyed everything for me..."


    "I don''t know you nor how I did."


    "You t-took away the only good parts of m-my life..."


    "I don''t know. What parts did I take?"


    "You... You destroyed me and tainted my p-perceptions... Why did y-you d-destroy me? Why would you do that?"


    Zabulus felt pity for the confused girl. "Because, sometimes a being only cares about his own life and has a hidden disdain for everyone." He said, "Did you know why I used to live my life as a lone creature, fighting and destroying so that no-one would have an opportunity to get close to me? Because I only wanted power, because I hated the thought of someone like my old self being near me and so close... I''m sorry for what may have happened because of the old me, and I apologize for... whatever has happened to you. I think-"


    She grabbed at the hem of her clothes and gritted her teeth, speaking between the clenches of her jaw as her hands balled themselves into fists. "NO, n-no... You know nothing, n-nothing ab- about me... My whole fucking life I was trying to learn what it meant to have value a-and what it meant to be seen by o-others! Do you have any idea what a life of being locked away is like!? Of having an anxiety-wracking fear about everything?! Even now I see an unseen future, it- it''s like my head won''t s-stop talking and w-will n-never s-stop..."


    Her stutter was back, her knees growing weak, and she fell to the ground.


    "H-hey... a-are you o-okay?" Phronta said, timidly getting up from her hiding place and cautiously approaching her, her head moving to check what lay behind her. "G-give her some r-room to breath... Maybe... Maybe h-hearing all of th-these voices is u-uh... b-bad for h-her...?" Her voice cracked from the pressure put on her, she was fearful and worried, yet still tried her hardest to care for the distressed warrior.


    "Kill me."


    "Wha-?!" Phronta flinched back after hearing Ixo''s voice, not really getting why she''d want that so easily when she was this close to having it all... Or not quite.


    "P-please, just end it... Kill me... End my miserable life already, my Queen..."


    "I don''t understand what the Queen has to do with you wanting to die right n-"


    Zabulus stood in silence as the realization set in.


    "No."


    "Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! Please, if the Queen has no more use for me, then let me perish and suffer in the way a low life such as myself deserves to suffer!"


    "H-hold on a second-"


    "DO IT, KILL ME OR I''LL GO AND KILL MYSELF!!!"


    Phronta jumped back at the volume of Ixo''s screams.


    Zabulus had no more words to spare for the lost girl, so he walked up to her and lifted the blade as if to put an end to it all, but quickly struck the ground and impaled a spot next to her head. The girl almost yelled in terror but her voice was muted by the sound of the impact, her body pushed back and making a form on the floor. She''d feel her heartbeat increase and would feel the vibrations of the nearby rock impact against the walls, her ears felt deaf as the metal sank a half-inch deep into the rock. The sword was embedded into the ground.


    "Next time, you might not get that lucky," said Zabulus with a scorned expression on his face. "And-"


    Boom.


    The door to the room was destroyed. A certain light radiating from the outside blinded Phronta, causing her to look away.


    "Who dares to disrupt my..." Onofre''s voice grew quiet from the booming echoes of a stampede and a murmur of thousands rushing at the gate, or perhaps the hole. "Boyo? Ixo?"


    Onofre appeared, confusion written all over her face and body as her mouth spoke incoherent sounds.


    Zabulus quickly put himself on guard, as he was certain that Onofre was the one who sent Ixothrozophella.


    "W-what... Oh, it looks like she''s broken. My sweet, poor thing... She has no choice, no free will, yet, she chooses to shatter herself. Hah, that''s funny. Boyo, what did you do to her?"


    "What I did? Do you mean what she did? Why you sent her?" Zabulus questioned Onofre, taking another glance at Ixo. "If you were a better person, you''d leave her alone."


    "Sent her?! What preposterous things are you insinuating, boyo?! My girl here, is innocent of everything."


    ''Bullshit.''


    Zabulus tilted his head. "If so, why did she go and try to kill me?"


    "No, tell me this. Why have you brought a traitor with you to this tower? Are you aware of the order of the Forty-Eight, boyo? She was one of us, and you lead her to her demise."


    Phronta ran up to hide behind Zabulus, trying hard to not burst into a panic attack, trying not to think of everything at once.


    "Ah... that makes it all clear, I misjudged you, then, boyo."


    Zabulus responded, "How is the presence of a coward who attempts to kill the living for living how they want to live supposed to be a judgment? Tell me, if a murderer and an ender of life tries to end your own, is it still murder, and would their soul not have to worry about Hell?"


    "My, you never told me what side you''re on. But then again, shame on me for ever bringing you here! What was I thinking? You have my deepest apologies for ever doing so."


    "And what''s this about anyway!? Why''s Phronta a traitor for wanting to live how she wants? Is she meant to forever be stuck in those walls doing nothing her entire life?! Just a caged bird you never bothered to understand?!"


    "Phronta? Are you telling me... it''s THAT girl? The girl who will burn the world? Hahahaha! I knew it, I just knew it. I can see it in her face! Oh how she''s grown, I bet someone misses their mommy and daddy! Where are those two anyway... Oh, yeah, they died in a heresy event."


    Zabulus'' anger rose from the bottom of his heart, there was a special place in there for Onofre... but the way she was acting, the way she was talking... This wasn''t the person he was lead to know.


    "It''s sad, boyo. I never wanted to have to hurt you, you were special to me~!"


    "Then... in that case... That''s why you sent her to kill me?"


    "Ah, no, I did not, believe me. She must''ve thought to do so on her own. But it''s funny, she saw you for who you were, and did the right thing! Say... is there a reason there''s a blade right next to her head? Because you wanted to kill her, I know you do."


    "Don''t lie! You said, ''What did you do?'' you clearly implied you knew what was going on in here... No. Onofre, tell me, tell me honestly... was that why you left me out to my own devices? To test my trust?"


    "Hmph. Ah, yeah. But hey, how do I know you wouldn''t turn your back on me and try to kill me, too?"


    Zabulus had no further words to spare. He walked a step forwards, then two, then five. He charged at a slow pace, and she would stand there, doing nothing.


    Just as he was about to reach her, she disappeared.


    The sound of her softly landing on the ground behind him could be heard.


    "Ah... what a soft, and cute face you''ve grown into, eh? Phronta, my sweet child. Give your Aunt a hug and forget about everything else, you silly!" Yet, despite her words, she held Phronta''s chin and head tightly and stepped inwards. "Do you want to live? Ohhh you so desperately want to live. I know you do. You all do, so did your father and mother."


    Phronta''s face was frozen, filled with tears and barely able to breathe.


    "Dry it, my little angel," Onofre said.


    "LEAVE HER ALONE! SHE DID NOTHING WRONG!! I''M THE REASON SHE ESCAPED IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Zabulus yelled, his fist tightened as he pushed towards Onofre and was ready to strike, only for a strange feeling in his guts.


    It wasn''t right... he shouldn''t push, stay put... Wait.


    Zabulus wanted to come closer to Phronta but...


    "Come anyyy closer and her head will pop off of her body!" Onofre hissed.


    "Just... Stop it... Please..."


    Ixo was nowhere to be seen in the room either, nor was her blade. The hole was still there, and there were still books on the walls.


    "A-ah... I''ll... I''ll be good..." Phronta''s words were slow, her mouth barely moving as she attempted to speak. "We''ll be o-okay..." She smiled towards Zabulus as Onofre''s grip tightened.


    "Y-yeah... I''ll make sure that you''re safe, I-"


    "Goosh! This is getting boring," Onofre rolled her eyes, "Hey, I''ll kill the girl, and you can be next."


    Crack.


    The room filled with silence after the sudden break, and from Phronta''s perspective her neck slowly turned sideways, and then her body followed after falling from the hold and touching the ground.


    Her chest no longer breathing, no longer beating.


    Phronta... the youngest was dead and cold.


    The silence was deafening.


    There wasn''t a soul who would say that it was his fault, it was all Onofre''s fault.


    Her smile remained plastered on her face as she sighed.


    "...Can I call you ''boyo'' anymore? Sorry, the fact you had a hand in all of this was unintentional, it was my mistake for letting her go out of my sight, really!"


    Onofre kicked Phronta''s corpse with enough force that it rolled towards Zabulus, right at his feet.


    He looked beneath him, seeing her dead, eyes and her smile fading away.


    He held her gently in his arms, and whispered, "Don''t you ruin that smile... It''s important." Tears rolled down his cheeks.


    He cried.


    He was silent.


    He didn''t give an explanation of his pain nor grief nor sadness nor loneliness.


    Just one name left his mouth, or so he said.


    One simple name was enough.


    It was all that mattered in the world now.


    He knelt in a form that seemed of that of an angel, his wings wrapped around her body and forming an enclosure to which Onofre''s confusion could barely fathom. She looked on at the scene and simply thought she''d cut open his wings or maybe his body...


    But he was no angel. For the angel''s light owed nothing to the devil''s darkness.


    A weeping devil encumbering and suffering in the midst of the heavens with an angel in his arms.


    Tears flowed, and flowed. They flowed so much that there would be a river that would fill the tower all the way up. But still, they only added up.


    He wept more than all the tears of an entire nation.


    He wept more than the weight and density of the planet could support.


    The burden on his shoulders and the amount he''s had to face were simply not comparable in the slightest.


    At this point, he''d given up on everything, friends, a lover, his whole life, he didn''t want anything.


    He only wanted one thing, and it was to see Onofre dead.

 Murder Is A Genocide Against Memories

    The view was clouded and so were his eyes.


    Zabulus couldn''t feel a thing. Not the ground beneath him, not the air whistling around him, he couldn''t ''see'' Phronta''s corpse in his arms, and certainly, he didn''t believe Onofre would live a second longer than she already has.


    "H... h..." His throat croaked like a frog being squashed against a tree by an elephant, dry and scratchy, and any words would probably leave him hoarse. Yet, he forced every syllable and uttered them in the most strident and haunting tone. "I''ll kill you..."


    "Boyo?" She tilted her head and twisted her expression with a wave of her arm.


    "I-I''ll... I''ll..."


    "Are you okay?" Her smile went from ear to ear, her irises shrinking in on themselves as if in anticipation, her fingers tapping on her palm with excitement and... something more.


    "I''ll end you the same way I''ll end the Gods, because there''s a time and place for all beings, and yours isn''t long for this universe..."


    "..."


    "Say something, Onofre."


    "Ohoho, you called me by my actual name? I don''t deserve such an honor, and yet... I think I''ll take it and cherish it before I decide to throw it out! Amazing day, isn''t it?"


    "Answer me. Onofre."


    His hands and body felt numb as he remembered what it meant to stand on two feet.


    "...I''m just a tiny cog in a massive machine, did you know that, boyo?" She whispered, her voice an echo of what it once was, what he once knew. The ground itself shook in fear for everything it had known.


    His heart shuddered as he lifted Phronta''s body, every crevice of his body tingled in anguish, a piercing sensation crawling through his veins.


    "Why did you... do it...?"


    "They told me to..."


    "Who?"


    "God, the Forty-Eight, the Angels, the Librarians, the Wardens... Everyone. Every single being that''s ever been here told me to. They made me... want to kill you. I can''t explain why, it just had to be this way. I never truly liked you in the first place, you know? Maybe, it''s better this way. Because I get the feeling that someone in the past wished you away to save another life, and here you are. The stars aligned and created an oddity that keeps destroying lives."


    "Are you a prophet or a killer, Onofre?"


    "Aren''t we both killers in our own rights? Haven''t you had enough of coming and destroying every place you go to?!"


    "I don''t like it, and it''s not my choice to make."


    "You made a lot of choices that have consequences, boyo!"


    "Not as many as you think. Why was it I who was put into a cell or cage of some sort? Why was I trapped in there, and who had I offended by being who I am?!" He grabbed a scroll and stood up, readying his muscles and stance.


    Onofre chuckled, "You''re the worst, and I should- No, will kill you, and have the stars erase every memory of your dying face."


    "Ah... The stars won''t remember me, anyway. The universe and time will just be carried away with their energy and nothing will be remembered."


    "Are you really so useless that the only way you can contribute to the world is by dying? You''re pathetic. You''ll never have a life that''s worth anything. It''s all a waste."


    Zabulus pulled at Phronta''s hair and grabbed her head to prop it on his knee. He closed her eyelids and caressed her cheeks, holding back his own sobs.


    "Are you going to sit there and pity yourself or actually do something? You''re even worse than her." She scoffed. "She tried her best to defy a fate that would''ve otherwise been as destructive as you; and it got her killed in the end."


    "Shut up..." He whispered, trying hard to breathe through his nose, his muscles constricted as his lungs started to scream.


    "What did you say?" Onofre huffed.


    "Have you had enough of your own bullshit?" He said as he got up and threw a scroll at her.


    It whiffed and nearly grazed her shoulder as it hit the wall with a thud. She was left confused and staggered backwards.


    "See what they did to you? You''re so stuck far up your own ass you can''t even see straight!" He roared as the walls began to shake as their structure was challenged by the dent made by the scroll.


    "W-well." She collected herself to not show a sign of weakness, looking back at the hole where the scroll had entered. "It''s not that simple, is it?"


    "No. It''s simple. Everything was simple when I just wanted to fight, everything was simple when I just wanted to kill. Nothing was simple when I cared for others. Everything is simple now."


    Onofre could feel the tension in the air, her fingers itching for a knife or a dagger. She didn''t have one on her, or she wouldn''t be standing so openly. Perhaps, she knew he couldn''t hit her, but she still itched for something.


    The air was hot and sweat dripped from her forehead, her body visibly showing an ounce of fear that shouldn''t be. This was something she couldn''t understand. To her, Zabulus was someone she only knew for a few days, so for the moment, her brain was just a blur, ''why care about this one person more than you need?'' To shed the armor of her emotions and expose it to the naked eye was something that was considered a death sentence in a lot of ways.


    To let go of something as complicated as self and be reborn is a true masterpiece that only comes once in a lifetime. It wouldn''t be now for her, though. She denied it.


    Shaking her head, she tried to think clearly. But all she could see is her ''boyo'' tearing up in anger as he clenched his teeth. The root of his anger... being herself.


    "Tears... is the least you could''ve done. I wish I didn''t have to see this." She murmured to herself.


    "You''re disgusting." He hissed as he picked up Phronta''s corpse and hid her from sight in a manner of respect. He couldn''t let himself disrespect her; but that was the last sign of respect he planned to show to anybody.


    ''Play dirty, Lamb.'' The voice from the depths of his soul spoke to him, ''See your own nature? This is how it was always meant to be, unshackle your darkness and let it consume your body...''


    ''...Phantos, crush this woman''s bones until she begs for mercy. Remember, there is only one mercy and that is death.'' Zabulus'' inner voice spoke to a certain book.


    ''...¡¯ It contemplated responding to him in a manner of mockery but it understood the gravity of the situation and what Zabulus felt.


    One quick jerk of Zabulus'' fist, and another scroll the size of his head flew straight at Onofre''s forehead. There was no time for her to react, not even the wind knew what to do, and then...


    Phaboom.


    It hit her so hard she flew several meters back and into a pile of books, the dust from them flying and surrounding her as she proceeded to stand up; the next moment, a gigantic shadow began forming from above her... It was the shape of a square, a cube, a massive building made entirely out of rock and steel, the sounds of screeching and metal on metal resonating throughout the tower.


    She realized that she couldn''t see the sky anymore, and attempted to run away. But a pace too late she was as the metallic rock cube began falling, the gravity pushing her down like an anvil from the sky and crushing her weight.


    "Huh. Dead already? I''m disappointed... I had plans for you and me to have a battle that would allow me to forget all that''s wrong in this world. But you''re weak." Zabulus shook his head.


    A thud came from the cube and Zabulus quickly pulled a scroll out and threw it at the cube; piercing the entire structure in hopes that it would ensure Onofre''s death.


    A crack. A sound. Another crack. A groan of pain. And the next sound was not from the outside, but the inside of the cube. The thuds began growing louder and stronger, the steel and rock being chipped away from the inside-out, causing Zabulus to tilt his head and watch carefully as the thudding grew more and more. It continued being chipped away at, cracks forming from top to bottom, the dust and debris sprinkling all over the ground and mixing with the sweat and blood pouring from her eyes... The cube was then just a pile of dismantled rocks and parts, and Onofre was standing there, blood covering her hands and her lips curling upwards in a sickening grin.


    "Ah... Hah... I had fun there..."


    "I doubt that..." Zabulus whispered.


    "Now... Now, boyo. Don''t you worry too much." She walked towards him. "Your little friend is no longer here, it''s just the two of us, you know? You don''t have to be... So loyal to her, no, no." She smirked as he pulled her scythe from behind and held it up.


    Zabulus watched her as she pointed her scythe towards him, as she said, "Let''s have a proper duel and see if your bravery and prowess outmatches mine, don''t you think?"


    "...I''m not playing by your rules, or your words. You bastardized her existence and for that, you die."


    "I thought that''d be the case. Let me remind you, I''m only giving you a chance at winning!" Her smile curled upwards as she shrugged, the blood covering her face and clothes almost completely. But she showed no signs of weakness or tiredness.


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    She got into a stance, similar to a charging bull, her eyes narrowed and she focused on him with utmost determination.


    Inversely, he took the stance of a slouching wolf, his back bent over, his ''eyes'' down on the ground as he calculated his actions.


    "Don''t think you''ll win this," Onofre hissed through her teeth as she spun her scythe behind her and stood still in her posture.


    "That line comes from the losers in books," He said. "Now, enough of your shitty voice. Give me the last good thing in my life; that is, a good fight."


    He charged at her with a limp in his stride, but that limp would quickly shift into a powerful step, a blast of energy from his feet and his legs rushing forwards, his arms reaching back and pulling out a scroll that was on the ground, becoming his main method of attack, he threw it at her as he commanded Phantos to swipe at her from the side with a rock wall.


    Onofre reacting this time to the scrolls simply had it cut in half in its trajectory through her scythe, before attempting to dodge Phantos''s attack and barely managing to get out of the area of the wall.


    His attacks, though simple and easily predictable, had a ferocity that was difficult to counter or tank.


    Onofre managed to land on her feet properly as she rolled on the ground and attempted to swipe at Zabulus.


    Only that he was not where she saw him. He moved fast enough that he left behind an after-image and began winding up a fist to punch her right in the face.


    "Literary conventions are meant to be broken," The punch landed on her chin, sending her flying upwards as blood trickled from her nose, "I''ll bring the stories to life, and my blood will not be spilled on the grounds of those who fear death," He lept upwards towards Onofre, her head reeling backwards from the hit during her upwards journey to the clouds within the room. "But I will bring the sky to its tears, and you will be the first to witness it."


    Zabulus commanded Phantos to create a falling wall atop Onofre, hoping that she will crash through the wall, or better yet, into it.


    She brought no words since the hit was dizzying and her brain couldn''t tell what to do or why.


    The wall emerged out of thin air, falling onto her in a matter of seconds, and it began falling down with her. Zabulus leapt into the air in an attempt to crush her intestines through the wall.


    ''My blood is your blood. My life is your life.'' Onofre''s philosophy rang through her head as her vision returned to her, seeing a flying Zabulus coming her away with his fist balled and arriving at her stomach like a rocket.


    She struggled to move as the inertia of the falling wall continued, but her arms were fast enough that she launched herself off the wall and came to meet his fist head on, with her own.


    Their fists clashed, and they met eye-to-eye in a moment that seemed to stop time, and the only thing that she did next was grab his head as they began falling down and headbutt him. Once, twice, thrice, then the fourth headbutt was stopped when his open palm cupped her chin, and he said with a bloody smile, "No wonder I was fated to meet you..." His nose was bloodied and completely out of place, "You were the one that would show me the way to become the greatest, wasn''t that it?!" His fingers were digging into her mouth and her teeth, and his words were distorted with a dribbling and spit filled tone as he shook her off.


    They both hit the ground, debris, books and scrolls flying everywhere.


    They were both coughing off the impact, the dust around them rising like a sandstorm in the desert.


    Zabulus quickly grabbed another scroll that was nearby and looked around for where Onofre could be, while he got a response from Phantos, ''The woman is behind you, go east by ten steps, I can sense her Ardour rising to an ungodly height.''


    Zabulus took a dozen steps and heard her rustling at his heels.


    "?!" He quickly turned and found her standing still, her scythe coming flying to meet her hand as he ducked and ran to grab her.


    Her ardour was pulsating within her, as if she was never injured... At that moment, Zabulus had a sense of clarity that perhaps, he was going to die. But he wanted to defy that, he wanted to win. He wanted to avenge.


    He threw the scroll at an apex towards her neck, but her reflexes got the best of it and cut the scroll in half with her knife.


    Wiping away the blood from her mouth, she sneered at Zabulus, "Oh, now, that was stupid of you. I''m not going to tread lightly anymore, so I''m sure... that YOU''RE fucked!" The scythe cut through the air with a high pitched ring as it was thrown with an aim to cut Zabulus'' head off.


    But he moved aside and rolled on the ground, it was clear to him now. A battle of attrition was not his forte, it was hers. He needed to win it outright.


    He commanded Phantos to throw a mountain-sized rock at Onofre.


    ''Sir... it is impossible for me to create a rock of that size.'' Phantos spoke up.


    ''Shut up and do it. Go as big as you can.''


    As the rock materialized, it became apparent that it would be difficult for Zabulus to find an advantage.


    The rock grew, and grew and Onofre simply watched, unamused. "Is throwing stuff all you got? I mean, where the hell did your strength go? Where was that same man who devoured those Amalgamates?! Are you even trying, boyo?"


    She smirked as the rock began to grow bigger than the walls of the room, causing every single book now to fill the battlefield, the walls collapsing into nothingness and the floor shaking in fear, the tower itself was beginning to tilt, and Phronta''s remains were swallowed by the rocks and debris falling down, to the point where her body was completely and utterly crushed. But Zabulus did not notice.


    "Let''s have our time on the outside then, is that what you want?" She spat as a blood bubble came to her lip and exploded. She chuckled, "That''d be a nice change of scenery and... Ah! Something else for you to attack later! If you live to see it..." The walls completely broke apart as the roof of the tower began to rush down, but ultimately only hitting the top of the rock.


    ''It''s big enough now, release it.''


    As the rock dropped onto Onofre, began to glow a deep blue colour, and she smiled as the rock hit her...


    ...Her body completely passed through it without a scratch, the rock falling and burying her beneath it, and as it passed through the tower, it began to be destroyed from within, creating a dust storm that blinded the both of them.


    The walls were now completely gone, and the roof had crumbled down to bits. Rather, the room itself was simply no longer. They were now in a wall-less room, the sky could be seen and the stars shone brightly.


    Onofre was crouching low as her hands dug into the dust and her breathing was calm. Her muffled voice couldn''t be heard under the pressure.


    Zabulus moved back and reached for a scroll to use it against her, only to feel a pang in his stomach and a sharp sensation.


    "Don''t keep using that stupid tactic... haha! It won''t work against me anymore. Get that into that tiny head of yours." She pointed her finger at her own head as if to indicate his.


    She pulled out her scythe and ran towards Zabulus. In response he sent an amount of walls her way using Phantos.


    But she was a warring dance machine...


    Dancing, weaving through the walls with her scythe in movements that flowed perfectly as if flowing from a river, her scythe growing and twisting and curving like a willow tree, flowing through the space between the walls. Her movements were almost... too perfect.


    Realizing that mindlessly throwing things at Onofre no longer works, he resorted to more unconventional methods.


    He willed a flame to engulf Onofre, but she danced out of it before it could harm her.


    He willed vines to grow from the earth to capture her, but she chopped them up effortlessly.


    He willed shards of glass to pierce her from every direction, but she merely grinned as they bounced off of her like a wall, with not a scratch on her.


    Then, he summoned a sword, and tossed it at her.


    "Haha! You must have the intelligence of a raisin," She sneered as she blocked the sword with the sharp edge of her scythe, and swung it at him in a windmill motion.


    "Fuck!" He cried as he ducked, the blade cutting his cheek. He was furious at himself for not being able to get an opening, and to make matters worse, the sky began to be covered with black clouds, it was getting darker and darker.


    The thought crossed his mind that he could try and simply use brute force on her. That would be the only way left.


    But before long, she was up in his face and said, "Hey, hey, I bet you haven''t fought someone like me before, have you?"


    A burning, piercing pain erupted in his stomach.


    A blade was going through it.


    She had deceived him, in the darkest depths, her arm morphed into the scythe and had plunged right through his body as her human arm swung and landed a hit on his face.


    Not even the respect of being killed by a proper weapon.


    Though.


    In all the pain that he felt, he did not flinch.


    In the midst of the roaring dark clouds above him, he held onto her shoulders with two hands, and held her face with the two others.


    "Look at me, damn you." He hissed with gritted teeth.


    "Get- Get your hands off me! Disgusting creature!" She tried to push him away. But he put all his strength into grabbing her.


    Not only grabbing, but even trying to crush her head and rip it apart, off of her neck, to gouge her eyes out, but the strength he had was only comparable to a small child, compared to her.


    She wrung his hands off of her and pushed him onto the ground, and brought her scythe-hand back out of his abdomen.


    "That''s what you get for not keeping your guard up, boyo." She held his elbows to keep him down, and stomped on his face until his mouth bled, his empty eye sockets filling with a red puddle as his body grew weaker.


    But he attempted to persevere through whatever pain was given to him and bit down on her ankle. She screeched and backed away, or at least tried. But he kept his hold on her ankle, biting harder. Blood seeping out where his canines sunk into her flesh.


    "Get... OFF ME!!" She continuously attempted to stomp the ground to shake him off her ankle, but he only proved to bite down harder and harder, her Achilles heel threatening to tear off and leave her crippled.


    Finally, the pain becoming too unbearable, she let out a blood-curdling scream, as the bones of her ankle shattered and her foot was wrenched off with a sickening squish.


    "AHHH!!" She screamed in agony and limped backwards, as she could no longer stand on her two feet. She used the debris behind her for support, but the blood kept pouring out.


    Zabulus spat out the blood that came into his mouth and spat out the flesh, and with her leg being a hindrance, she could only limp.


    "Damn you, fuck! Damn you! Fuck! I hate this, I HATE THIS! Don''t take me out of here! Leave me ALONE!" She frantically screamed as he crawled weakly towards her.


    It was not over yet.


    The two creatures approached each other slowly, both crawling as one had lost nearly all strength, and one lost an entire leg. The sky began raining a cold and misty rain that caused their bodies to become slippery with blood and water.


    The scythe was long gone, having reverted back into a simple pole. It wouldn''t even respond to her command to fly to her arm, she was weaponless.


    Similarly, Zabulus couldn''t summon Phantos anymore to crush Onofre as he had used all his willpower to continue fighting.


    "Come. I''ll... Finish you, Onofre," He grimaced, as his lips dribbled with blood and spit. He knew he was not going to win, yet he was going to try.


    As the two came in close proximity, battered and bloodied, Zabulus threw a weak punch at her dirty face, and she responded by swinging her left arm at him, her nails scratching his face and tearing off part of the skin.


    Spitting and scratching and biting, they continued to rustle like animals as the both of them bled out amidst dirt and rubble. It didn''t seem like a battle was happening, just two desperate beings clawing their way to stay alive.


    Zabulus took a bite into her shoulder. Onofre Clawed his neck. Zabulus gave a weak gut punch. Onofre spat in his eye socket. They were beyond trying to finish each other off, just surviving in a rain that caused the earth and blood beneath them to slide around.


    The Ardour in Onofre''s body began to fade.


    The will in Zabulus'' body began to be extinguished.


    As they were on the cusp of death, Zabulus weakly coughed, and Onofre shakily reached a hand to take apart his jaw.


    They stared at each other''s bloody and pale faces as the world around them grew hazy and dark.


    "Was this all just... A joke...?" Onofre asked.


    "Joke...? No... It was something more profound than that..." Zabulus responded.


    "Do you understand your place in the world now... Boyo?" She asked weakly.


    "I''ve always... known..." Coughing blood, he clutched his stomach wound and shook his head, as if to shrug off her words, and chuckled. "A fleeting glimpse of what could have been... Hah..." He laughed weakly to himself.


    With that exchange, Zabulus drew his last breath.


    "Haha... What do losers say in books now... Boyo?" And as such, so did Onofre.


    A battle between two beasts ended as they collapsed atop one another, their eyes still wide open as if their souls were still lingering around for more.

 In the absence of light, there is a hole that will never be filled

    Souls.


    What a silly concept, someone thought. As a creature who had shed any attachment to human concepts, they believed that the idea of a soul was foolish and not worth their time.


    Usurping.


    For such a beast, this word was a mantra they lived by, it was the very idea that drove them insane, yet so wonderfully full at the same time.


    Memories.


    The only thing this creature possessed was what humans craved. Their entire life was fueled by memories of others, of the full life of others, the words and names and voices that rang through their heads at every waking moment. The fear that perhaps, someday, those memories too shall fade.


    Deceit.


    To fool the ones around you, to fool yourself and lie to yourself in every looking-glass. For this beast, that was a power greater than any. A power that was to be used, and used, and used. Used until nothing remained of the truth but the lie. Albeit, it was a pretty little lie, with a tinge that spoke ''yes, everything is ok, you can keep going and going and going and going and going, don''t even think of stopping''.


    Malice.


    That which was born from memories and pain. A corrosive word that seemed so funny at first, but then became the monster underneath the bed. The shadows behind your back that whisper a million lies and a thousand insults at once. Malice and revenge and hatred, the driving forces of the beast. But perhaps the true beast was simply what lurked beneath the malice. A terrible, yawning, vile, and awful truth that the creature never dared face, yet at times was brought to the forefront of their mind. And they hid it well, hid it away behind walls and locks and keys that no one would ever unlock.


    ...


    "Where... the hell...??" A moderately pitched, coughing voice emerged from the ground, as if a hideous seed in a fruit. "Ah... what''s... wrong with my hands?! My body! What happened?" The girl''s voice cracked, as that dark-black body of hers entered her sight, she held four hands... none that looked human, just all black. A creature without a soul, she thought to herself.


    "The afterlife...? Ah... a nightmare? Then the fight... Was not real, no... That can''t be..." Falling into a delirious state, her head rolled back.


    Something, something, something, what was she missing? ''Ah! Yes, there, that''s right. What she was missing was-''


    The Ardour. It was no longer inside of her. "Wha- How did I...? Am I really dead...?" The question echoed, over and over since the space was empty and dark, she only saw a tree. And it was a tree that had agonized faces, but they had no voices, they only begged for salvation silently as a hideous congruence of wood and flesh.


    Was it real? Or was it an illusion, a trick of the mind? A terrible dream?


    A different voice spoke, perhaps from the tree, perhaps from the air, "Ah... another one already? What a pity... Ah, I was planning to have more fun with this... You know, I haven''t had much company recently."


    The tree... no, ''Zabulus'' spoke as he came into her shaky sight. "Y-you... what have you done, where am I?!" She wanted to lunge at him and try killing him again, but something told her everything was wrong as it was.


    "Calm down, calm down. We''ve all gone through this confusion before¡ªWe think that we killed him, we feel good and try to go and have some rest but by some god given miracle he''s there in front of us in this place." The man in front of her explained, "I''ll grow tired of this explanation eventually, but... you''re dead, okay? And I''m not Zabulus, I was just... Forced to look like him! We all were! This is an endless afterlife, and no one gets to leave. Hopefully I didn''t tire you out too much before we could settle our differences, that''d be just perfect if we could, eh?"


    She couldn''t believe him, no matter how much he explained himself, there had to be a way out, he had to be lying. Zabulus was dead, she saw him die!


    "...And we''re basically just inside his soul, told ya, the guy just never dies! Oh, right. By the way, my name is Vetro. What''s yours? Ah! Ah! Don''t say it, let me guess. You''re that Onofre chick, ain''tcha? No need to answer that! I see what he sees, and I was there too in the battle!"


    The man was now floating in the air as his hands began to fold and bend and change shapes like wet paper, but his words stayed true. "Let''s have a show-and-tell then! Tell me all about how he got you, maybe I''ll learn something useful from that!"


    "I''m... no, no! That can''t be true. I will kill him! I swear on Babel''s bones, I will... He took... from everything, do you think he''s just... Allowed to even breathe the same air as us?" Her anger grew and grew as she planted her hands in the ground and knelt forward, her face contorting with rage, "How can I kill him?! There must be a way! Tell me, now!"


    "Well, he doesn''t breathe the same air as us, really. We breathe him, you know? This whole place is his body! His soul! But to kill him, well... You just can''t, his soul just has defensive countermeasures everywhere that prevent that kind of stuff! Though I''m surprised that you were able to come to terms with that this quickly. Last lady who came around here... Let me tell you, she was not as good-mannered and was having a breaaakdown! Aaaaaaahaha! She''s a bit stuck on the face thing, can''t really come to terms with the fact that she looks like me... For some reason, she really hates me! It''s a little depressing." Vetro spoke with a fluctuating tone and did several gestures to exaggerate his speech, his hands were like branches that could shoot bones out of them, and his fingers wiggled and changed into countless roots as he did some sort of a magic trick.


    A terrible, heart-wrenching feeling filled Onofre as she recalled.


    A terrible, heart-wrenching realization.


    It hit her numb skull now, he was nigh impossible to defeat. It wasn''t a fight she could win, no, she had simply met a being above her. A being that outclassed her in every way. And there was likely nobody else that could be better than him if this was what he was; a true immortal, that wouldn''t die, and could not be stopped.


    She ''retched'', but nothing came out of her, she was devoid of anything but his body. It disgusted her to think about it.


    Vetro smirked as if he was amused by her reaction.


    ''Someone who so vehemently wants to kill him can''t comprehend a world where he lives forever. How fascinating, eh?'' The words rang through his headspace as he levitated down towards her.


    Vetro tried his best to be comforting, as he understood how she felt; as he felt a similar way initially. He still hasn''t, and will never forgive Zabulus for killing his daughter, but he learned to come around and accept it as if it was an unquestionable law of the world.


    "Here, why don''t you give me a hand?" He tried to lift a part of her arm off the ground, "You don''t want to just mope around forever, well, you won''t be allowed to. Everyone comes up with different ways to entertain themselves in here, and you can use those weird, oddball hands you got to your advantage. Come."


    His voice was unusually soothing, his presence was odd. There was something...odd about it. It was not an aura of goodness or righteousness. It was like a dissonance in the air, and something was definitely off.


    Vetro stood in front of a large, beautiful mirror that showed everything around him, it appeared out of nowhere.


    "So, we just touch this thing and we go to the main-space, that''s where everyone is. Unless you want to stay there and be part of that congested mind. You know, they have some weird games in there!" Vetro pressed a finger on the glass and it cracked under pressure, showing a hidden world.


    It was a vast, eternal field, the sky above seemed as bright greenish greyish purple, as if some colorblind kid drew with paint-drip paint. The ground was soft and uneven, but walking was effortless, the grass was taller than any regular grass should be and the trees were taller than any natural tree should be and looked almost translucent and thin like paper.


    Onofre didn''t give any word as he passed through the crack in the mirror and entered this new world. He looked behind and waved at her with a smile, as if saying ''Come on, try it yourself!''


    But Onofre rested on the ground, giving up on any ideas or thoughts, her eyes cold and lifeless, had there been any eyes to speak of. She knew that any effort, any attempt to go against him was futile. And if she was to live within him forever? Unbearable. But what choice did she have?


    Vetro stepped outside of the mirror to look at her. He walked towards her and reminded her, "Well, if you want to stay back here, you''ll just be a bigger part of him all the same. That tree you see?" He pointed towards the Congested Mind, the faces moaning in pain and trying to break out of their root prison, "They''re part of his subconscious, and they''re the ones who become literal parts of him. Do you want that?"


    "But..." Her mouth refused to let out a sound for a moment, "What will I...Do there, in the other...Place?" She fell into a depression, the place had little light, and it was hard to move with her blackened body and four black arms. "I..." Her voice began to shake, "I don''t want to do anything. Just let me..." She was unsure as to whether or not she was ready to give in, she had always fought valiantly in the way she saw herself. Her philosophy was always to think, ''Fear is the mind-killer. Doubt is the little death that brings a bigger one. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and when it has gone, only I will remain.'' But in the end, she began to see herself as ''all-talk, no-action.''


    That scared her more than anything.


    "...Then be bored, forever torturing yourself in this wallowing place. You know, sometimes I hear his voice in my head, he speaks to me, and I speak to him. We talk and sometimes reminisce about all sorts of things, even if they''re not our memories. I can see them too. So, I extend my hand one last time to you, my friend, because no man, and no woman, should die like this. A rotting corpse, or a... Whatever you are now. It''s a pitiful fate. You know, and I see potential in you, the others might like you too! Like... that Reiah girl, she seems to know you, don''t know how, though she was reacting pretty intensely to your fight. You fought well, and I can tell that you probably had a hard-fought life before ending up here. So, what do you say? Want to have some company while you mope and stare out at nothingness?" His speech was oddly calming and pleasant, with his unusual mannerisms and ever-changing body.


    It made the situation seem lighter. But... despite being lighter, it ended up being so heavy. Onofre could not bear it.


    ''NO! NO! NOOO!'' She thought. She didn''t want to listen to anything else, "Just leave me alone!" She screamed out, but her voice could barely make a sound. Vetro smiled in a mocking manner, knowing she couldn''t fight back anymore.


    ''Well, I tried. Maybe another day, if you survive the Mind.'' Thinking some more words to himself, he left the place and the mirror disappeared.


    Onofre was all alone, crying to herself on the ground as she could barely feel herself, no energy, no will to even exist, and no Ardour to give her strength.


    She tried to give up.


    Her will was gone.


    Her life was gone.


    Her future was gone.


    The voices in her mind echoed endlessly as she finally succumbed to his darkness.


    His face was still smiling in the back of her mind.


    It would haunt her to no end, she knew.


    Her face contorted in an ugly, twisted mess, she wanted him to feel pain, she wanted to give him pain. But was aware of the futility of it.


    Vengeance had its grip on her, and the harder she struggled, the tighter the claws clutched.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    There was no way out of this, there wasn''t.


    If she could, she would just commit the ultimate act of mercy, but not even death was a way out.


    ''Am I just a toy to him? Just... to be taken and broken, then thrown aside? Years of abuse and torment, and then this is my reward?'' Onofre had a rush of thoughts. ''Babel... I prayed, and I prayed to you. My vengeance never brought me salvation, not even death did...'' The tears poured, but there were none, only her dark skin glistened with a wet shine.


    There were no eyes to cry with. She would be damned in this cruel world, where the world would never treat her as she was.


    To him, she would be forever damned.


    This was not a joke. This was not an illusion. This was reality.


    And there was no escape from it.


    ...


    "...?" Hazy vision, confused mumbling words came from the mouth. It took a second... two seconds... three seconds for the person to realize where it was and who it was. As if waking up from a terrible nightmare, or realizing that a long-held grudge had been for naught, they woke up and stood to their feet, confused, frightened, and overwhelmed with emotion.


    Wild emotion that felt impossible to contain.


    ''I''m out...'' was all they could utter. Their legs shook, their mind was hazy, but a smile formed across their lips. A warm, comfortable smile. ''Out, finally.''


    There was no way of describing what they were thinking, and it wouldn''t matter. All that mattered was that they were free.


    Standing in the rubble of debris, dirt, books and scrolls, all was silent. All that remained was the aftermath of the battle. And a ''pain'' in the left ''eye'' that he covered with one of his hands.


    The victory was complete, but no sense of triumph could be felt.


    "Friend, huh?" He looked down at his own battered corpse, a broken horn, torn skin, and a stomach wound that dripped with blood.


    He wanted to forget about his own weakness, to ignore the thought, but it just came to him:


    ''I don''t deserve a single damn bit of kindness.'' He spat the blood from his mouth in anger, the body he inhabited still not having healed fully from the fight. Hell, even the torn leg came back.


    Zabulus tried to focus on something else, but the memory lingered. ''But... That was such an amazing fight... Onofre, you were amazingly skilled... Strong... and fast. If I didn''t have this special soul of mine, who knows how it would have ended otherwise.''


    ''Hey Hey hey! Don''t go wallowin'' the way she did, aye!'' Another girls voice was heard from... Inside his head? ''Remember, we got lots o'' fun things ta do, yah?'' It sounded... Happy? Bright? Caring, even.


    "Who''s there?! Show yourself!" Zabulus turned around in all directions, looking for the speaker, but he was alone in the dust and rubble.


    ''Calm down boy, we got a lot ta talk ''bout and get ya acquainted!'' The voice sounded so strange, as if it were layered with more than one, maybe hundreds, of tones and words. It seemed to echo from the past, and the future, all at the same time.


    "You... Are you Onofre''s friend? Are you a soul?" He was unsure of who was speaking, so he calmed himself down a bit.


    ''Don''t be silly! I might be a soul trapped somewhere... But befriend that little whiny bitch? Ahahahaha!'' The laughter was strangely dissonant and shrill, ''Ain''t funny, eh?''


    "Then who are you?" Zabulus was extremely confused and worried at the same time, "Why are you talking to me?"


    ''Ahh, so many questions, such an inquisitive little boy! You''re gonna make us late, we got lots to explore and see out there!''


    There was something in the corner of his ''vision'' moving.


    A rock, it was shaking. Shaking frieeenndddddly as it continued to grow more shaky.


    Its shadow looked like an oddly misshapen snake as its shape distorted like jelly.


    ''Heyheyheyhey, remember when she hugged you? Yeah, that pisssssed me offfff! Did you see how awkward she was!? I mean, she was practically forcing herself upon you, right?''


    The rock continued to grow in shape. Its edges sharpened and its big form turning more into a stick, the texture changed to a blackish metal.


    "How do you know that? Wait... Are you there, in that thing?!"


    ''Hahahaha! Good one, good one. You''re funny, I like you. Oh, by the way, my name is Tartaros! You probably wouldn''t know me, but I''m like, a pretty powerful weapon, yeah!''


    "What do you want?" He repeated the question.


    ''Let''s chat more! Let''s explore this city and kill some baddies! After all, you and me, we''re going to be like, super close and stuff! Hahahaha, aren''t I cool?! Let me show you my true form!''


    The now stick-metal grew two zigzags in the shape of an M at each opposite end, resembling a double-scythe.


    "Onofre''s weapon? You can speak, just like Phantos?" Zabulus was now cautious. He remembered her skill, but if this scythe was the same as Phantos... Then why did Onofre never use its ability?


    ''A-a-ah! Don''t lump me in with that son of a bitch Onofre! I know what you''re thinkin'', aight? And no way I''m lettin'' myself be used by that loser again. Plus, I''m bound to you either way! Well... not really, ya know? I can always decide ''nough is enough. You seem alright so far, though!'' The now floating double scythe started going towards Zabulus, ''Hey! Pick me up, I wanna see how you look like!''


    Before he could react, the scythe fell to the ground, as if waiting to be used.


    "And you''re going to be a good partner for me? Really? Didn''t seem like you were being loyal at all back there." He picked up the weapon, but he could feel something strange, a kind of pressure on his whole arm.


    ''Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you handle it or can you not, bud? And- Oh, hey! You''re an azkite! And look at that, a damn good-looking azkite at that! Didn''t know this shitty place I was brought to had someone like you!'' Her girly voice was somehow still loud and powerful as he felt it through his body. ''You need a name. Come, come! What should your name be?''


    "Uh, a name? I already have one, It''s... Zabulus. But... Why would you want to give yourself to me? I''m a nobody." He explained awkwardly, feeling some sort of dissonant joy emanate from the weapon.


    ''What a boring, mundane name, aye! How about... Gah! I''ll let you choose your own name, whatever! So, I''m currently bound to you as a kindling weapon, just like that personality-less Book that you use! We''re made from the same thing, so I know pleeentyy about that good-for-nothing Phantos you got!''


    ''Sir, may I inquire the nature of this manner-less spirit that speaks to you in such a disgusting manner and refuses to conform to social niceties and etiquette?'' The voice of Phantos echoed through his head, sounding disgusted with the weapon.


    ''Phaaaahahahaha! See? It talks like a damn robot! Can''t even take a joke! It''s just soooo funnyyyyyyy!'' Tartaros mocked Phantos. ''But I ain''t like Phantos. Nope! Phantos is an Embryo, an Ignitionless weapon! Poor her, none of her users connected with her that deeply... On the other hand, I have one! One Ignition already, and I''m only gonna connect more with ya!''


    ''What are these ''Ignitions'' that you speak of? A strange way of categorizing your us, perhaps? Please enlighten me and stop mocking me with your sickly, immature jokes. You are a weapon of battle and not a court jester.''


    ''Hahah... Well, I''ll be straightforward here, and I am always straightforward when necessary. We are all weapons with a soul within us, aye? I''m sure you''re awake enough to know this much, you''re Phantos after all! We all know you for being the most understanding and knowledgeable of our kind!'' The sarcasm was strong with the weapon.


    "Are you implying that every Kind-something Weapon knows one another?"


    ''Most of us were created by the same man. At least, that''s what they say, and his name goes by the Smoking Sage, that is as far as I am aware of our origin, sir.'' Phantos explained, sounding slightly confused herself.


    ''Whatever! Who cares about that lame-ass nerd anyway, I have my own philosophy and I''m not just gonna have it be determined by some old guy who likes to smoke! Anyway, as Kindling Weapons we have these things called ''Ignitions'', and we have three total to get to! Our way of knowing how far we''ve bonded with our users! It''s simple, the more we become the same person, the more Ignitions we receive. This is what it means to be a Kindling Weapon with a soul!''


    ''So you are attempting to bond with my master? Please, have no doubt that you will regret this foolish endeavor, and-''


    ''Oh my goddd, could you give me a break here!? God damnit, Phantos, I''m tryna be a good friend, you''re just bein'' pretentious!''


    ''P-pretentious...?'' It fell silent as if falling into a depression. ''Sir, I apologize for not understanding. Please provide a meaning for-''


    ''Whatever! Look, are we gonna work together?!''


    Zabulus ''blinked'' in surprise, "I don''t really have a choice, nor do I see why not. Sure, I''ll use you."


    ''Pwahahahaha, then that''s good for me!''


    "I assume we will be working together a lot now, yes?" Zabulus picked up the odd scythe.


    ''Absolutely! In fact, let me give ya a little taste of what I can do!''


    It seemed like something was pulling his arm. It was so strange, the weapon moved and brought him to a different area full of rubble, it seemed that the entire town was in disarray as he heard people crying and shouting for help.


    ''Heheh, look at the mess you caused.'' The weapon spoke proudly.


    ''Yeah, well...'' Zabulus looked around, embarrassed, "Who cares about that, those people can die for all I care. I''m looking for someone-"


    In that very moment, it hit him that Onofre killed Phronta, and there was no coming back from it.


    ''Your best friend, hmmm, you''re pretty strange.'' The voice inside his head spoke, as the weapon moved with him, hovering in the air with some unseen energy. ''You care about her more than your own life? What a bizzarre relationship.''


    "What did you just say? Best friend?! You don''t know anything."


    ''Bah! Whatever, that stuffs beyond me. Now, look, do you see that big wall? Try and clench my handle as much as you can, and then imagine it being severed in half, or maybe just chopping the thing in pieces, aight?''


    He obeyed, holding the double-scythe tight and picturing the scene being torn apart into small pieces, and then he brought down the weapon as hard as he could against it.


    The wall shook and the concrete began to crumble, a thousand pieces of debris fell onto the ground and it sounded as if a giant explosion went off. The weapon glowed and vibrated a pale light from the point of impact.


    It had cut straight through the concrete, but what was demanded was met with a greater force. The wall wasn''t only destroyed and cut into a thousand pieces, but a million. And it was still disintegrating, becoming dust in the air and fading away.


    "Holy..." Zabulus was stunned, he couldn''t believe it. "But it''s not over yet, right?" He remembered Onofre''s power.


    ''Ah! Of course not, I don''t only cut physical things, I can cut metaphysical things, too! That includes Ardour! All you need to do is imagine the thing you want to cut being in your range, and then focus on cutting that exact area, or its concept! Though... we ain''t close enough for that, boy. Get the Ardour going! Focus all your emotion and energy into it!''


    "I don''t know how to use Ardour."


    ''Wha!? Whaddaya mean?! Don''t you need it to live?!''


    He was beginning to realize just how clueless Tartaros really was, and he didn''t understand her intelligence.


    ''Look, look, let me explain, ya hear me? Ardours and Ignition are basically the same thing, just that one is for Livin'' beings, and one is for Weapons like me, aye! Both are focused on one''s own image, feelings, and beliefs! You have to make a firm image of what you want to do, and your intent to do it, and like, usin'' the right Ardour...''


    "I don''t follow. There''s nothing that comes to mind, I can''t form any thoughts about it because I don''t even know what it is in the first place."


    ''WHAT!?! You ain''t gettin'' me twisted now, I''m no fool! Just focus and bring out whatcha have!''


    "No. Not right now. It''s not time for me to entertain you. I must go and find my home, if it''s not ruined. Or... Not lost yet."


    ''HUUUH!?! Boy, what the hell is wrong with you? Don''t go lyin'' to me now! I know you came here because you wanted to get stronger and then, BAM, you''re almost defeated, and now you''re probably gonna be in deeper trouble!'' The tone sounded even less serious than before. ''Look, you ain''t got nothin'' to lose, no? And we both know you''re not as helpless as you wanna look like, not like that Onofre. You can fight, aight?''


    "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" Phernes'' voice echoed through to Zabulus'' ears, breaking his chain of thoughts. His heavy footsteps accompanied with various others approached, stopping in confusion as they saw his corpse on the ground... Yet he was standing.


    "Oh, you''re that guy from before." Zabulus'' tone dropped as if bored by them, not showing any sign of care or worry, and completely unintimidated.


    "GUY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"


    "I was ordered to stay here by Onofre and got attacked by some Amalgamates, but... I managed to defeat them and the rest left. She went off to find something else, she said." He lied straight through his teeth.


    "OH! WELL, SHE SAID SHE''D BE VISITING YOU! SO I ASSUMED YOU WERE WITH HER." Phernes replied, clearly having believed him and not suspecting him at all, neither did the rest of the guards as they nodded along. "BUT... SAY, WHERE ARE THE CORPSES?"


    "?!" The big flaw in his lie; he didn''t think about it properly so it simply must''ve slipped him mind. His lie couldn''t stand under the intense glare of his questioners, who were beginning to wonder if he was insane or a danger.


    "IT''S JUST... WHERE ARE THE DEMONS, AND ALL THE LITTLE PILES OF BLOOD, AND GUTS AND STUFF THAT COMES WITH IT. NONE OF THAT IS HERE. EVEN MY MOUTH IS EMPTY!" He cried out as he pointed to his clean mouth, it was completely free of any stains of blood or traces of Amalgamates.


    ''Boy, this guy pisses me off! Arghhh, damnit, Phernes! You better not have your army come near me or I''ll cut your body into pieces, and then eat it! You piece of shit, get the hell out of here!'' Tartaros hissed at him as it floated from behind Zabulus to in front.


    "WHAT?! WHY DO YOU HAVE ONOFRE''S WEAPON?!" He backed away with his squad behind him, clearly not wanting to try and engage into a fight yet, not without Onofre.


    ''Blah, blah, blah! She lost in a battle with Zabulus and then he became the clear victor, aye?!'' Tartaros proclaimed proudly as her new wielder tried to shut it up, but it had no mouth to shut, so it continued exposing his lie, ''Anyway, if you got a problem, come and challenge Zabulus! The Onofre Bitch Killer!''


    "God damn you," he said in a low tone, "Stop talking or else. I''m not trying to start a shitfest here again-"


    "YOU... YOU DID WHAT? ARE YOU JOKING, OR YOU ACTUALLY... DID... OH MY GOD. ONOFRE IS DEAD... BECAUSE OF YOUUU!" Though Phernes¡¯ didn¡¯t actually care, he simply put on an act.


    "Could you lower your voice a little bit? Geez, you''re fucking annoying."


    "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Phernes continued to shout as he threw out a punch with his bare fist, aiming at Zabulus'' Face.


    His fist was met by a scythe blade, cutting it nearly in half as the inertia brought it forward towards the ground.


    "FUCK, SHIT!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as he clutched his bleeding hand. "YOU PIECE OF-"


    "Stop it, seriously. I don''t have time for you." The rest of the guards picked up their weapons and got into a stance as Phernes fell to the ground in agony.


    It was as if the world was out to get him, allow him for no rest as one after another, he was fighting the City guards, or someone else in his path was doing this, someone else he had not even noticed.

 A Papier-Mach茅 Conundrum of Ill-Natured Humanity

    Hunger was something that plagued everyone, and as such, it became known as a problem.


    Famine.


    It was not simply a word, but a disease that haunted all the living, gods tried to end the problem in many ways, but it simply could not be gotten rid of.


    Eventually, they had come to pin it down to the very core problem of living, and a specific god.


    Man created famine. It was a simple sentence, but it was partially true.


    At some point in the many histories of the world, Man, one person or maybe several people, invented the concept of ownership.


    By ''owning'' the things they used, they kept them to themselves, to their own benefit. No one owned the animals and other creatures of the world, only the world did.


    Man neglected to understand that.


    A horseman''s concept was given to him, and it was used... Used by their greed.


    To end wars.


    To end lives.


    To end an era.


    And so the Horseman rode forth, and as one of the four to carry the plague upon humanity and the other creatures, was responsible for its widespread use, making others act in terrible ways, cannibalism, infanticide, parricide... Mass genocide.


    Their ways became known as the Famine... Familiarizing with it made many of the living suffer, as it became a catalyst for some to do worse.


    In a wonderland, or maybe even a realm of terrors, there was a girl. Her hair was flowing freely in the wind. It was a dirty blonde with some white patches.


    She was the one who would eventually become the God of Famine.


    ¡ªThe Third Anarchist


    "W-we won''t let you get away with this... Zabulus! W-w-we will catch you, one way or another!" One of the guards shouted at the Azkite as he stood there in the rubble, their eyes glistening with fear.


    ''Man, these guys suck! Say, do you wanna cut-em-up? We still have time before night''s fall, let''s cause some more havoc, aye?''


    "Just let them do their job for now, Tartaros. There are many reasons not to start a fight that I have no reason to indulge i-"


    "YOU HAVE NOWHERE TO GO!" Phernes shouted out as he landed a gut punch on Zabulus.


    "Ouch, ouch. Why do you have to be so brawn-brained? Could you listen for a second here?" Zabulus said, feeling the fist try and pierce his stomach, but there was simply no pain. Not much at all. It made him laugh, oh yes it did, a sarcastic, cynical and mirthful laugh. "What are you trying to do? Punch through my stomach? As if this will accomplish something, and what exactly do you think will happen if you do punch me a hole in my stomach? That I''ll keel over and die? If so, you''d be horribly mistaken and dumb, you should understand that there''s something to these fights that you aren''t understanding and- ahahaha!"


    He laughed as his arm gripped and twisted a portion of Phernes'' large arm, creating a gruesome crack as blood splattered out, and his opponent was launched a good dozen feet away, knocking out a wall and cracking a building.


    "WAAAA! YOU RAT!" The man on the floor shouted, now understanding that his opponent was on another level compared to him in strength, "NO WONDER YOU TORE THROUGH THOSE FLESH PIGS LIKE CHIPS!"


    "Quit whining, I don''t like that at all," Zabulus said as he looked around, sighing and walking towards Phernes. The other guards stood in fear watching their greatest fighter get completely dominated. "You annoy me, I didn''t like you nor fighting beside you. Now I know why, you aren''t even interesting as your ''White Queen'' was, in fact you seem to be quite ordinary." He grabbed his bald head and slammed it into the ground, holding it and pressing it into the stone, cracks spreading out with each time he put more pressure. "I''d say you don''t seem to understand why you failed, but it seems like nothing gets through that skull of yours because you only like to hurt. What would you even know about being hurt? You train your regiments with no mercy, isn''t that correct? And in order to grow stronger, you use them as dummies to beat, too." He read into his memories, for which there are no words, and saw how justifiably incorrect Phernes thinks he is. How he thinks that there is no wrong in harming others, as a means to become strong.


    And Zabulus understood his philosophy, it was a simple ''good triumphed over bad''.


    "Truly, you are a man-child!" He twisted his head further into the ground as Phernes began to cough, foam and spittle being spat onto the ground as he did, his skull cracking under pressure as the Azkite simply watched.


    There weren''t any morals held to Phernes, and that was a terrible idea to create. Because the apparent humanity inside him was fading, and he was going through the same route that Amalgamates did: Turn. To. Corruption.


    It was not a tragedy, there was such a thing as a man dying to someone he had insulted for being weak or lacking in discipline or talent... That was simply life, but... In an arbitrary, self-destructive fashion...


    Phernes was ready to take everything. Everything.


    He thought the world owed him and owed him greatly. And so he took whatever came his way. And it was coming, the darkness inside of him, growing ever so swiftly, but what he didn''t realize was that... He was weak. And to try to beat his enemies in numbers or with different opponents, all who were equally weak.


    He was pathetic.


    He was not like the Scribes, not the other Librarians, not even like Onofre. And it was sickening to be inferior to some of these things for him.


    "You don''t know what the hell you are, even? How! Pitiful!" Zabulus broke his neck with no mercy in him, he knew exactly what the man was going to do to him in an attempt to avenge his own self. So he ended it then and there. "Now, now. Do any of you want to try and stop me, or want me to get on with my day? Do what you wish, I care little about the things you do."


    They trembled in fear at the sight of Onofre''s greatest warrior being completely overwhelmed, they were terrified. But it would have been expected if this man killed Onofre herself.


    "...N-no," a soldier cried.


    "W-we surrender....!"


    "Please... Spare us our lives."


    "Stop..."


    "We give."


    "P-please. N-n-not like him..."


    They pleaded to him with the guilt of an entirely different thing inside their souls, the knowledge of the sin was eating at them, rotting away at their morals, and eventually, it would consume them like a black tar.


    "Eh, I don''t know. Get on your knees and I''ll think about it." He replied back with a serious demeanor, his mood turning into something else, his body and heart racing for something greater than his mind understood or comprehended. He was exhilarated. And as the guards obeyed his word, they kneeled one by one down to his level as their fists clenched, their own stomachs feeling a gaping void and their throats a dryness, as the land was burned with their vision. Their faces flushed red from both fear and panic.


    As it would seem, they were scared of him like animals.


    He walked up to them from where Phernes'' bloody face lay and asked Tartaros, "How good are you at cutting necks? Even ones as strong as these ones''?"


    ''Ahaha, that''s what I was born to do, boy! I''ll do it one by one, or all at once! Either way, they''re dying tonight, boy!''


    "That''s a fine job you have."


    ''Yeah, sure, can you focus for one second though, aight? Look. We got a crowd on us!'' She pointed herself at a group of civilians watching Zabulus do his acts of evil, he remained neutral at the idea of murder as they would think the same too. ''Ah! A chance! Take it, take it now!'' Tartaros pleaded to Zabulus who was now standing in front of the guards who were looking down at the ground.


    "Any final words?" The question asked the two dozen men kneeling before him.


    "H-huh?" One of them raised their heads.


    He grabbed Tartaros and... cut a few of their heads, beheading one by one, in a single motion of spinning the double Scythe vertically.


    "Uahg..." "Oh god! Stop- Argh!" "Don''t k-kill me- Ahhghhh" and various similar shouts or cries were heard as they all died without mercy or hesitation, just like their leader had before.


    "Such a pity. One broke the rules, so naturally the rest had to die."


    "THE RULES ARE BULLSHIT!" A cry shot out from one of the nearby walls, a bloody-faced Phernes standing with his fists at the ready.


    "Aren''t you meant to be dead? Do you not wish to live or do you not die? Whatever the case may be, I''ll have your head I suppose." Zabulus snapped his fingers, but nothing happened, not visibly.


    "YOU THOUGHT A FUCKING NECK-SNAP COULD GET ME DONE-IN? I DON''T CARE THAT YOU KILLED THAT ONOFRE, BUT TO THINK THAT A BIG JOKER LIKE YOU HAD- GUAGH!?" His voice stopped... A pained cry could be heard, as well as the color fading from his eyes.


    Piercing his stomach, Tartaros spoke happily, ''Hey Hey Hey! That was the plan, right?! I got it! I got it! I got it!'' She danced up and down and left and right even while still piercing him, cutting his insides.


    ''This is... Great fun, now that we''ve got these bastards taken care of. Let''s take them all to hell!''


    "Don''t bother, they''re going there either way, probably." He waved her off as if telling her to come back to him, so she flew straight through Phernes, his intestines being dragged and falling to the ground behind her. "Sickos... Come on, that''s disgusting. Look at his face, he''s practically making love to a pig''s intestine, while also eating the face."


    It was the final moment of Phernes, it was a little anticlimactic. But he still tried.


    Was it then that Zabulus began to conceive for this world and his own self an ending? Was it a subconscious notion, a primal feeling or a hope for the future that he wistfully indulged, but he would never remember?


    He gleefully smiled at the notion that there was no escape from this worlds'' incessant torture.


    In a certain place in the horrified watching crowd, a man stood happily with his top-hat and cane. He muttered to himself, "Great... Show yourself... Deceit! Indulge in yourself tis mortal foolishness!"


    "Hm?" Zabulus looked towards where he thought he heard the voice.


    ''Say,'' Tartaros interrupted him. ''Do we wanna kill those in the crowd too? iiiii don''t really like their stares, it''s givin'' me the creeps! Real bad!''


    He sighed and began to walk up to the crowd, grabbing her by the handle, he spoke to her with no reply of anyone else.


    ''Are ya just ignoring me?''


    "..."


    ''Heyyy, where didja go off to again to yer mind?''


    "Sorry. I thought I heard something."


    ''AHH! SO YA WERE IGNORING ME! You suck! We''re here to kill the rest of ''em anyway.'' Tartaros was then swung forth in the air, cleaving a young man of no more than seventeen. His guts came spilling out onto the ground as he let out a pitiful cry.


    "Densely coiled layers of insides, huh." He stepped onto the screaming man and stomped his insides, shattering his spine and effectively killing him instantly.


    ''HEHAHA, That''s the life of one! Now for the rest of uhm... I dunno how to count!''


    "I thought that wasn''t something a scythe needed to know... However, you''re a special weapon, so perhaps I''m wrong about you." He did the same to the next two men he could see, some ran in fear as they screamed, some frozen in fear and hoping that they would be spared.


    Their guts sprayed onto the ground so cleanly and precisely, it was no wonder the scythe was forged to have that design, the necks would''ve gotten caught in the wind''s current.


    ''Right you are, boy-o!''


    "Don''t call me that." Practically strangling the handle of Tartaros, had it been a neck, he cleaved the abdomens and necks of eleven people who were either frozen standing in front of him, fallen down to their knees or curled into a fetal position, or trying to crawl away.


    With every swing, the gutting became more and more accurate, faster and stronger, the sounds of intestines smacking onto the ground became a background noise for the victims.


    As more people lost their limbs, heads, and organs to this inhuman being, they had not realized yet that they were dead. Their bodies trembled slightly as if attempting to escape, but they would soon completely stop their movement.


    As for the rest who were running away, he threw Tartaros in a spinning motion, ''Aye aye, Captain! Flying special move In-coming to those escaping~!'' She cried in her mind.


    He gave a nod as if Tartaros could see him, and he moved on to the rest of them. Some were still somewhat intact, the others completely chopped up into pieces.


    As Tartaros did her duty and ricocheted from one person to another, killing them instantly, he inspected one of the victims arms.


    Pale white skin, crimson red blood that was so saturated it could be black, with bone in his hand, and it was like a caveman-style hand. Completely not evolved and incredibly fragile. He easily snapped one of his fingers.


    There was no reaction, of course. The arm was cut off from its host body, and even if it was connected to its owner... they''d be dead anyways.


    "Oh, that''s a nice sound." He enjoyed the squelchy-sounding sound that the finger made as it snapped inwards. The middle, the pointer, and the pinky were all bent so harshly, their bones had been broken through the pale white flesh. "So, when you do it to yourself, it does actually feel pretty nice, huh? Not sure how I''d normally do that, but it''s very pleasing." Hearing his own thoughts, it became clear to him that he might be losing some sanity... If not already crazy.


    ''Aye aye! I killed ''em dead! Dead as can be!'' She announced her accomplishment from the ground as she rose from beneath Zabulus to surprise him. ''Ta-da! Are you proud of me, master!''


    He coughed, choked a little and backed off at the sight of her covered in blood, guts, and brains, "Yeah, yeah."


    ''Just as you''ll get used to it, I''ll surprise ya again, because that''s what I do!'' She shook like a dog to get the gore off of her, splatting some blood into the stone and scrolls on the ground.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Zabulus walked towards a higher elevated amount of debris to use as a seat, plopping onto it. A huge sigh followed as he turned his back on her. "...To be a god... No, first, to return home. That''s my first and most important objective, had it not been for that stupid blue haired girl, then I wouldn''t have been left on my own here. Why? Why did that damn shit-face want something from me? If she just didn''t interfere and let me be the way I was, then I would''ve been home by long ago. I''d just simply return home from where I started, and then I''d be able to complete my mothers'' story with no more hardships! ...Perhaps it is simply not ordained for a creature such as I. This obsession of godhood might as well be my greatest curse. But what do I care?! If gods are made, then I was clearly created differently, right? I''d think so. Tch. Thus, by various means, and ultimately due to their constant deaths at the hands of their own stupidity, the gods die and lessen in amount. Eventually, only I''ll be left. Isn''t that funny?"


    Tartaros remained still as Zabulus spoke and monologues on, he rested his cheek upon his fist, wishing to have something that could relax him, that could be his inner peace. A secret and constant craving, always on the cusp of his being, was to find somewhere and something in this hell that wasn''t so bad.


    ''Sir, have these.''


    In front of him on the ground, two forlorn objects formed.


    One, a white stick, coated in a paper-like substance, one of its ends coated in an orange, the other tip of it had a black charcoal-y substance that glowed red and was fading quickly. The other was a grey metal box, one that flipped open at its hinged edges. Its latch opened and displayed a flame of pure light, which flickered as if it were a fire, but did not let out any smoke or any sort of heat that should come from the concept of a flame.


    ''Pick the cigarette up.''


    "Which one''s the cigarette?"


    ''It''s the stick, ya dummy!''


    He picked it up in one of his palms, being cautious as to not crush it or bend it. Its design was odd and entirely not consistent with the time he had known, wherever or whenever he had come from.


    ''Now, sir. Pick up the lighter- The other object.''


    A cold metal touch was what Zabulus found his thumb to press on, as the lighter was picked up with the same care as the cigarette, though it proved to be not as feeble.


    Phantos instructed Zabulus on how to use the lighter and how to light up a cigarette.


    ''And now... you put it to your mouth and...'' The explanation went on and on, her explaining going from a simple instruction to a full-blown history lesson on cigarettes and their dangers. ''...However, this should calm you down, Sir. Ah- I''m afraid my time is up. I lack the will to exist outside of your soul any longer... I will be asleep for the time being. I apologize... Good luck on your journey home.''


    With a metallic clank, the lighter hit the ground.


    Zabulus stared at the lit cigarette as he recalled what instructions Phantos gave on how to ''smoke'' one.


    "Up to the mouth and... inhale... into the mouth? Wait, wasn''t that wrong?" he paused and thought to himself, "No, no, no. Inhale, mouth, then... lungs? Wait, that sounds even worse."


    With his memories of the long ten-minute lecture already fading as he stopped paying attention two minutes in, he lost the method and simply went to try. "Fuck it."


    With a moment''s notice, the end of the cigarette was pressed firmly into his mouth, and the contents were inhaled.


    "Ah! ARGH!!"


    A burning sensation filled him as his lungs filled up and felt like they were suffocating. It was a new and somewhat horrifying sensation.


    "Gaaa!"


    The stick stood firmly between his index and thumb, holding it as if making an ''OK'' sign with his two fingers.


    There was a barrage of coughs, his body rejected the foreign substance, it wasn''t like water, it had an unusual gassy form. "Blagh... horrible taste, is this really going to calm my nerves? Rather, this should anger me more!"


    With a random feeling of determination, he went to try and inhale it once again.


    This time, however... It burnt less. In a way, he felt calmer.


    Was it the nicotine, or was it simply the realization that his method was entirely flawed from the start. "Was it a test?" he wondered.


    He did it again, and again, and again. Slowly, he was calming down. But at some point, he felt his body begin to tremble a little. He felt... weak... "Does it do that? Well, it isn''t too bad. Not the worst, I''ll give it that." He inhaled again and blew out smoke, the taste in his mouth worsening with each exhale, but he could endure.


    By the twelfth time, he was used to it, but it was almost fully burnt by that point. "Ah, damn it. Must be a one-use kind of thing." He snuffed the remainder of the stick on the ground beside him and noticed how relaxed he felt, leaning onto a piece of rock, he went back to his thoughts.


    "Ah! Lamb, is that what you call yourself now? How long had it been~ Not long, not very. But hey! Now you remember me, and I~ Remember you, isn''t that so wonderful?" An androgynous voice came from his left, a floating humanoid figure wearing a victorian-era suit, a small top-hat and a cane with a skull design in one hand. "It seems you''ve been quite busy... Killing and getting souls... You know, last time I was in your soul, it was depressing! How is it now... is it- Oh?"


    Zabulus gave a ''glare'' of hatred at their tone and manner of speaking. "You... You were..." Words couldn''t come out of his mouth, for some reason.


    "Ah! My name, where are my manners, where are my damn manners? Where are my manners, oh-I don''t have manners!" With a twirl of their fingers, they reached their hand out for him, "Call me Vadim," A smile on their face. "Pronounced Vay-Dim, by the way!" He winked at... You.


    Zabulus swatted away their hand as he kept leaning against the wall, "What... What do you want now? I''m... tired of this."


    ''Hey hey hey, don''t act like that master! He''s clearly someone who just needs some cuttin'' up and he''ll learn a lesson!'' Tartaros attempted to alleviate his mood, but it was to no avail.


    "Right you are, deary, but not right now! Let''s have a talk, that''s all I wish to have. No fights, no soul-destroying, no anything, just a good ol'' conversation!" Whether their word was true, whether their actions would be true was something he wasn''t quite sure of yet, but Zabulus stood up anyway, the cigarette stubbing out on the rock beside him, its charcoal remains slowly decaying.


    ''Have fun with that! I''ll be awaiting yer word, guy!'' Tartaros went up in smoke as she just disappeared and retreated into Zabulus'' soul.


    "There is nothing to do. There is nowhere to go. There is no one to be. There is no one to know. Those are four principles of Chaos. But let''s take them and make a list. No, not a list. Not a theory, nor a law, nor even an idea. Let''s make something true. Together, me and you, Zabulus, shall make a world to conquer this godforsaken body! Don''t you believe it?" They pleaded.


    He did, he did, he did. He believed it with all his soul and every ounce of his existence. But for a reason unknown to him, he wanted to defy Vadim.


    ''Lamb...'' His inner voice spoke, ''Don''t give in... to another''s darkness. Give in... only to yours. There''s... still a way... A way to stop this chaos and create something truly worthwhile for not only you, but to make the world roll.''


    He stood still and did not move as Vadim placed their hands onto his shoulders, their bodies nearly touching together. And he whispered into his ear, "You know, I was the one who made Onofre want to kill you. She''s so easy to influence~ The guards, I sent them in your direction. Reiah, I made her the shitty sibling she was in anticipation for your arrival. Avtarus, that fraudulent avatar of time, I sent them your way~"


    Zabulus was enraged. Was this a lie? This had to be a lie, no one could possibly be able to manipulate every situation with a few words and ideas. But what did he know about Vadim? Could Vadim be the Ill-natured spawn made from humanity? Is that it?


    He could only wonder and freeze, as Vadim squeezed tighter on his shoulders. "Isn''t it funny? Hey, it''s funny, right? How everything goes so wrongly for you. Why do you think Onofre hated Phronta? Me. I lead to her death, I knew you''d come about. I knew you''d go and nearly lose sight of who you were~ But see, you can''t escape who you are. No one can, Zabulus. You''ll learn, someday~ Maybe, you already learnt. My special plan, for which there are no words or a meaning. I only came for the best. The most exhilarating story ever conceived on this realm~ This time, you''re the one and only Zabulus to ever do this! The only one! Every other was a boring, mundane and happy-go-lucky guy. When a damaged body is filled only with pain, and the brain''s cortex is disrupted with your mind''s memories and thoughts... Why not create a body with no purpose but be filled with pain? That''s yours, that''s your body. When a damaged mind is filled only with damaged thoughts, and the eyes and ears and mouth and heart have no joy, no sadness, no emotion at all, then why not create a mind with no purpose but to experience utter misery? That''s yours, you''re my masterpiece. And you''ll never leave. Not even when you die. No... the perfect part about you, is that you never die! Ahahah! Your soul always remains, never passing on to the after-life of which we know not. It''s... Truly. Something worth watching, a play, a film, an art piece, a spectacle! Yes, yes, it''s worth it! So please, please, keep living and experiencing... And I''ll watch you all day. You''re so mesmerizing, you''re so delicious, you''re so amazing to me! If I could love, you''d be my one and only! If I could love, your pain and beauty would be so immense that The world itself would reach a limit of 10^68 or perhaps higher at which it would crash and be destroyed! It would all end at your magnificence and sorrow, a story worth telling, a story that must be remembered! It must be seen by aaalll! It''s beautiful! It''s disgusting! It''s filled with horror and melancholy! It''s just never-endingly, devastatingly, intensely, fantastically, wonderfully, breath-taking! Don''t ever stop! Don''t ever leave, never be anyone else! It makes me want to melt at how perfect you are, it''s crazy, it''s really crazy~! Who knew a simple creature such as a lamb could be so special! No, no no no no no, no no, not a chance I''d call you a simple lamb. You''re an Anarchist! A being made to break every rule there is. There''s no one like you, not even me! Your power surpasses any being. That''s why I''ll stay, because I''ve found a soul that''s the perfect shade of gray~ A soul that''s worth not only giving hope, but giving despair as well. Have I repeated myself yet? I''m not done. I am not done with this. You- no. Everything, all the time, exists only to serve you, YOU! That''s why you''ll have the world to yourself, that''s why you''ll see this city- This land, this universe, The macrocosm itself to be your plaything! Whether it''s a galaxy, or a star, or a planet, you''ll own whatever is thrown at you. You begun with the soul of your killers, but that''s menial! Menial dare I say compared to the infinite possibilities and powers of a being such as you! Come on! Let''s show the world what you''re made of! Let the world see and realize. They''ll know, and they''ll want, they''ll hate, they''ll FEAR, and they''ll despair at your pure existence~ Isn''t it amazing? Aren''t you just filled with a need to be recognized? Even in a world as hellish and hateful as this one? It''s a sin not to! It''s a crime not to be seen, not to be heard, for YOU to not be heard or seen! You''re perfect, PERFECT! I wish I could do your torture- no, your joy, no, no, no, no. Everything. That''s why, Anarchist, I''ll never leave you alone. Because we have a pact, a destiny, a purpose, a chaos, call it entropy! No matter the means, the universe will bow to your power! I believe it, and that''s why... You must continue to experience and feel, until the world breaks and cracks into a trillion-trillion-trillion-trillion pieces~! HAHAH!! ZABULUS, BELIEVE ME, I BELIEVE! HAAHAH! DON''T STOP, NEVER STOP! WE ARE NOT ORDINARY! YOU ARE NOT ORDINARY, NEVER THINK IT! THIS UNIVERSE WILL BOW TO YOUR BLASPHEMY! YOU HAVE SOOOO MUCH POTENTIAL! YOU ARE GLORIOUS, BLESSED, ENDOWED, BESTOWED, INVOKED HOLY EVERLASTING GOLDEN RADIANT LUMINOUS AND ATRUE WONDER OF BEASTS, AND YOUR SENTIENCE, OH GREAT LORD OF THE AZKITES AND CHOSEN ONE OF A''KONNIN, YOUR VERY NAME IS LEGENDARY! And I shall be there to watch you all your life. No one can stop us. NO. ONE. I don''t think you truly comprehend it in your horrified state, but evil overpowers good! Good is a pathetic and uninspired concept! There''s no point in it! Your power, your magnificence, and your hatred will launch you and destroy the entire world! That''s what I believe! That''s why I''ve come, oh~ Yes, yes! Why can''t you believe it, you too? The truth can be amazing, can''t it? Deceit might not be your forte yet, but when phenomena and catastrophes take place, it''s natural to get shaken! Imposing new morals and codes of ethics over such chaos and destruction is just what only you... Yes, you can do! You are the favorite. You are the best. You''re perfect in everyone''s eyes, even in those who despise your brilliance and want to put a stop to your story! But you''re unstoppable! The world itself favored you out of the infinite amounts of yourself and gave you true immortality! You will never die, and your sorrow, your grief, your anguish and your hate will continue to rise and rise and rise, a being never meant for happiness. But you can still feel, and you will! And so will everyone else, so they may share in your pain. Isn''t that... Isn''t that just beautiful? I... I can''t handle its beauty... I will cry, cry I say! Cry like a newborn baby, one who cannot express their desires or wishes and only feel its depths and reaches without truly being able to act or do what they truly desire. That''s you, and you''re the favorite. Ah~ It''s getting to me~! Your life, your future, is too beautiful to handle for my puny single person brain! Yet... you have so many memories, so many enemies, so many souls within you. You''re a walking paradox. You''re truly an anomaly~! And nothing... Nothing can take you down, no weapon, no power, not even fate itself~! Ah- This is enough, Lamb! It''s so overwhelming, I can hardly stop myself from simply shaking till my bones start to break. My tears, my tears of excitement, they flood my face, they drown me, they explode out of my tear ducts and fall to the ground! Is this... Is this love? HAAAAAA!!! No, I know what it is. It''s... a fascination. A form of love. A far greater love than any mortal or being could have. And- oh, I feel a hand, a hand on my own shoulder! Oh~! A weight, a weight on my soul, it feels... It feels... Lamb, Lamb! Do you know who I am? I must know! Tell me! What I am, what I will be, what I can become and evolve into. I wish to be only for you a disposable companion that offers guidance and encouragement. My name is Vadim, remember that name, instill it into your mind, and etch it in the deepest chambers of your heart!!! If I could touch the beating chambers of your heart and wrap my very hands around its pulsating flesh, feeling it beat in its elegant beautiful wonderfully perfect rhythm, that would be my paradise. That would be the heaven for which I was made! Your enemy, your rival, your companion. For no one will be blessed like you are, you''re truly the best and brightest and most marvelous and incredible and phenomenal and striking and exquisite and brilliant and radiant and captivating and enthralling and dazzling and delectable and remarkable and sublime and gorgeous and extraordinary and distinguished and stupendous and sensational and ravishing and dashing and magnificent and astonishing and electrifying and breathtaking and lovely and beauteous and charming and enticing and irresistible and elegant and graceful and delightful and magnificent and regal and precious and endearing and captivating and alluring and fetching and eye-catching and impressive and intriguing and enchanting and delightful and fantastic and enjoyable and beguiling and enchanting and fascinating and incredible and terrific and wonderful and mesmerizing and mesmeric and captivating and entrancing and incredible and astonishing and gorgeous and spectacular and sublime and divine and mystical and wondrous and miraculous and awesome and majestic and heavenly and supernatural and indescribable and unexplainable and mind-blowing and heart-warming and exhilarating and unbelievable and supernatural and mysterious and indescribable and perfect and simply pure as an angel~! What''s wrong, why are you staring at me with such... fear? Sadness? I cannot determine your expression, but if there''s anything to describe it, it must be dread. You- You need my help, is that it? No- Don''t give in to me! It''s no use, no use... I can''t have you be entranced by my beauty, my Anarchic Messiah! Nooo- No, no, no! Agh- hahahahaha! This is- This is too hilarious for you to not believe me. And now... Now, I''ve lost my sense of reasoning. Here''s the end of my rambling. Thank you, Lamb. Thank you, thank you for everything that you have done as an entity and existence. I thank you for listening to me. I thank you for understanding me. And you should always remember, and know, that in your chaos and sorrow... I, your faithful servant and friend, will be watching with joy and delight. So please, please! Please stay true to yourself! Never lose sight of what you are in your beautiful blackness! Your meager body lacks the strength, the energy and the capacity to keep on being true, but your mind is what shines the most... It''s like a flower, one that blossoms and radiates and gleams with a hidden beauty. If you attempt to pluck this flower, it plucks you. You become the flower and it becomes you. That''s what you are. A natural disaster waiting to happen. Something to be admired and feared and appreciated and honored. Keep living, and I will help you see the light of the universe! A-Ah! Lamb, Lamb, I can''t handle this. But I must continue rambling; for I apologize for my sudden entrance to your psyche. You know, I used to have a heart, once. It wasn''t even a soul! But it was a heart nonetheless. Oh, it was the saddest heart. It was a heart filled sorrow for others that didn''t look past me one moment. It was the most heartbreaking thing. But that is all the past, a history, and now? There is only an Ill-natured spirit who lives and thrives for one sole purpose. And that''s your utter defeat in life. Don''t mind me, however. I would love to serve you, to live with you, to love and be loved by you! Would that be possible? Would that make you happier, my Anarchic Lord? I know not, for I am but a humble servant to your wicked deeds. I have a mind of my own and my own identity, but only... Only in its unbirth, for I was not meant to be a person, nor an entity to speak of. I was not properly born, and I still remember those days before the era of time and space, when there was only nothing and darkness. Can you imagine a world like that, where there is nothing? Do you want to create that? Or do you want to bring about a world more worthy of your powers, something meritorious of you and you alone? Let me help. I shall always help. I will exist solely for you. It''s a... It''s a blessing for me to even exist, in your world and in your presence, to allow me to touch your shoulders and to meet the people you even knew. Let the carrions eat me alive if I have ever seen a being as extraordinary, as my sacrifice will beget chaos. That''s the thing that sets you apart from others, you are of chaos and they of peace, and your nature and desire for true self-expression is beyond my grasp to even attempt to understand it in the first place. Ah¡ªI almost forgot to mention. When the world turns on you, remember... There is someone who shall forever love and adore and praise you for all of your wonderful actions and exoneration. Remember, I will never turn my back on you, no matter how hard the universe tries. Even if your powers are squandered and your body rendered dainty and weak, I will remain by your side until the end of days. So, let''s do it! Let''s see it through to the bitter end. Shall we? Just one more little thought. Your anger, your wrath, your sadness, your grief. The world will never be able to tame it. Because you are a fire. A flame that cannot be extinguished. And you doth truly, be a true lamb? The irony of your name! Zabulus, Zaig¡ö. Are you listening to me? That''s- That''s right... Give yourself. To your- Self- Self- Self- You, yourself. Give yourself up to yourself. Yourself. You are yourself. Yourself. Yourself- self-self-self-self. Give your anger to yourself. Your sorrow, to yourself. You, yourself. You... your, self. You¡ªyou. You are self. Self, self, yourself. Yourself. Self, self, self, self. It''s rumbling and thundering. The waves, the lightning, the voices of the people around us are high and infinite. But you are more than thunder; more than a storm. You are a force that exists solely for its own power and glory. So don''t let the world get pained, don''t let the world get shredded by itself, you must do it yourself. And even if we become enemies in the end, I''ll deem myself honored and privileged to have seen such a masterful work of art that was you. It''s beautiful to watch your life spiral out of control and in chaos, it''s true, but the ultimate joy of all of this was that, from the very beginning, you were never controlled or managed. You were always free. You were always unique. And that''s the one true thing that will make your story timeless. It''s a beautiful piece of art, and that''s because you were never a product. You weren''t only my creation, had I said that. You were already in your own process of being formed by yourself. You are the one, the creator, you will be a God. You are destruction. You are pain. You are chaos. You are true. You are devastation. You are annihilation. You are death, you are madness, you are power. You are dizziness. You are helplessness. You are fear. You are pessimism, and you are always alone. You are wretchedness, you are a disease, you are a curse, you are hatred, and you are suffering. But you are also hope, you are happiness, you are an oasis, you are the sunshine, you are the warmth. You are creation, and you are optimism. You are essence. You are particles. You are conception. You are infinity. You are a marvel. You are an anomaly. You are a star. You are the light. You are everything. You are nothing. But above all... You are deceit. Believe it or not; not even I could trick the conception of Deceit, the one who I deemed so very precious to myself. But there was a certain point in time where you told the truth. And those truths are what made the universe give its true nature and being. There''s something about your soul... I can''t tell what it is, but it speaks outwardly as if it''s its own soul. Your mind? Psyche? Your Gnosis taken shape? Maybe not. Maybe it''s something else. The fact is... That I''m fascinated by you, and you know that. Even in death or even after, I will forever remember you. How you made the universe listen, how you spoke lies that became truths, how your darkness engulfed the whole universe and turned it to your own. That is the future that I crave, for you are the darkness, and I am a small part of your light. But let us remember... That the ultimate goal of darkness is always light. So even if I''m light and you are darkness, the light will always come to overpower. Darkness cannot exist without the light, that''s why I tried to form you in my own way, but I was naive. Stupid! Dumb! Ignorant! Moronic! Idiot! A Simpleton! A Nincompoop! Twit! Doo-Dad! Ninny! Clotpole! I''ll say it all over again! I''ll apologize till the end of days; it was me who turned you dark, but darkness must have been your very nature after all. Emphasize the juxtaposing and opposing philosophies of this world, Zabulus. Know how this world functions, know the thoughts of the people, know everything about them in the same way they wish to know all about you. I just... I had already discovered my fascination of watching everything going wrong around me, and I got desperate. I thought that I might as well try something new. And you came into existence. Who would''ve guessed such an unprecedented and unpredictable anomaly that you would be to the universe? Not even me, the one and only mastermind behind such beauty... Thank you. Thank you, for still existing in spite of everything. How long you still live is good. Because knowing the others as I do, the others aren''t nearly as enjoyable to interact with. But YOU, oh-you! Lamb, what can I even describe the beauty of your dark and cruel nature? Surely there must be some sort of praise? Some sort of praise... Ah- I gave them all! Now, I must walk away and go on with my day, as you should also get rid of that fear in your face! Ba-bye, Lamb! I''ll be watching closely!"