《Everything Proceeding Normally》 1. Pain, Hospital Beds and Concussions Ugh, why does it hurt so much?! A dazzling and sparkling pain in his eyes split *REDACTED*''s head apart with roaring and thundering pain, his attempts to block out the intense feeling by clenching his teeth failing. Short sharp bursts of light flashed through his eyelids, blinding him even with his eyes closed. He tried aimlessly to open his eyes, to see, but some strange force blocked him. Attempting to perform some sort of motion to appease his growing sense of anxiety, *REDACTED* ordered his limbs to move up. He felt weightless for a few seconds, but gravity kindly reminded him to follow the laws of physics, smashing him back down on whatever he was lying on. The shock forcefully tore his eyes wide open, and he took in the sudden influx of information. What the hell is happening? *REDACTED* looked at the world around him, his eyes growing increasingly more confused and anxious every second. He lay on top of an ancient, frayed hospital bed, right next to a side table hidden by dilapidated debris. The perforated concrete floor shuddered in intervals, crying in pain. The rotting walls seemed to close in around *REDACTED*, trapping him. The nonexistent roof was a window to the sky, revealing two large but dull celestial entities hovering over the world. One almost covered the entirety of the red, miserable sky while the other smaller one stood closer to the ground. They emitted barely noticeable light, but closer observation would reveal a dying life in the centre of both of these planets, stars whatever they were. *REDACTED* sat up quickly, too quick. It felt as though someone had ruthlessly struck the side of his head with a baseball bat. Holding his head in his hands, *REDACTED* tried his best to focus, but gathering any semblance of control over his muddled thoughts was difficult with the shackles binding his mind with confusion and anxiety. Fortunately, this feeling was slowly subsiding since he had woken up. After allowing the pain to lessen, *REDACTED* stood up, throwing the rotting blanket covering his knees onto the floor. The world was silent as he took small steps towards the plain door standing directly in front of the bed. As soon as *REDACTED* was about to turn the rusted metal handle, he noticed a small mirror in his peripheral vision, something he hadn''t noticed before. He suddenly felt a strong force urging him to keep staring at the mirror until he turned into an indistinguishable pile of dust. His entire focus was kept on that mirror, his hand slowly losing its grip on reality as it slid on the bumpy metal surface of the door handle. That small amount of force was enough to open the door, plunging *REDACTED* into a bottomless abyss. The last thing he saw in that room was a pair of eyes staring back at him from the ends of the mirror. *** A god had punched through the world, creating a large void full of emptiness. At least, that was what the hole centred in the middle of nowhere looked like. A light futilely tried to expand its territory into the bleak rift, a clear line forming from the meeting point between light and darkness. The light at the top and the darkness lying at the bottom never seemed to get further away the more you travelled vertically up or down the shaft. Trying to look at the opposite end of the hole was impossible, as the chasm was too big and the light too dim to see far enough. The two contrasting concepts, light and darkness, were the only constant in this disconcerting and upsetting place. The only other thing that never seemed to change was the slow breathing emanating from the bottom of the forbidden depths. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. But, today, or whatever time system this uninterrupted place used, was different: a single object was plummeting down at rapid speeds. "HELP! HELP MEEE!¡± If the passersby walking in the city, which was infinitely far but as close as two atoms were far apart from each other, listened closely, they would be able to hear something resembling a scream for help. How the hell do I slow down?! *REDACTED* continued flailing his arms around, trying to get a bearing of direction. He assumed he was heading towards the darkness, but there was no way to confirm. It''s unsure how long he had spent falling. The roaring breathing was deafening, threatening to drown *REDACTED* in a cacophony of noise, corruption and hysteria. He was close to turning mad with fear and horror, until something put a pause on his joyride between dimensions. "Are you feeling better?" *REDACTED* inadvertently touched a sentence as he sped through the cacophony of shouts of colour and tastes of sound around him, a hand pulling him through the distorted border between reality and insanity. A sudden bullet of information hit his brain, reminiscent of the initial agony he had felt waking up, albeit not as intense. The passage of time between waking up and the present moment was blurred and mixed, like the fading memory of a forgotten promise. *REDACTED* shot up, blood rushing to his head and his heartbeat too high for a normal human being. The immaculate hospital bed he was lying on looked brand new, and the items on the side table lay organised. The floor looked spotless, with a matte finish, as if denying the holes and recesses that invaded the concrete previously. It was as if everything *REDACTED* experienced previously was a dream. What the hell? Where am I? *REDACTED* whipped his head back and forth around the room until the nurse standing directly to the side of the bed he was lying in looked at him quizzically. "Are you sure you''re alright? We could give you a bit more treatment if the pain is too much to bear.¡± Finally stopping the frantic motions of his head, *REDACTED* looked at the nurse. His eyes peered directly into her soul. The nurse instantly broke eye contact and continued talking after a hesitant pause. "Sorry, I''ll repeat myself, would you like something to relieve the pain?" The nurse asked again nervously, small beads of sweat dripping down her neck. There was something wrong with this patient, she wasn''t sure what. She took out a notebook. *REDACTED*''s elevated heartbeat slowly calmed down after the nurse continued asking him questions. "Where am I?" That was the first thing that popped into *REDACTED*''s mind, something he had been wondering since he woke up with that horrible, terrible pain in his head. "Patient is showing symptoms of concussion..." the nurse quietly muttered to herself. "Don''t worry sir, you are at a sanctuary right in Orion," she slowly answered. Orion? "Ok... how did I get here?¡± *REDACTED* asked, breathless from his excursion to the line separating sane and insane. "It might have been a stronger concussion than diagnosed..." the nurse continued to mutter under her breath, this time while writing something down. A concussion? This isn''t a concussion. A concussion doesn''t feel like someone is ripping your eyes out of your head! *REDACTED* continued looking around the room while the nurse, who was easily distracted and seemed a bit apprehensive towards him, was still writing something down. The room he was in now looked like a complete match to the one he had seen before, which was a more desolate and bleak version of the current room. Now the room was cleaner and had a touch of life with subtle torches and candles, while the other had seemed abandoned. There was nothing different with this room *REDACTED* noted after careful observation. Until he looked in the corner. There was no mirror there, only a blank wall to replace its presence. 2. Mind Reading, Time Loops and Identity Mishaps A mirror. A surface, typically of glass coated with a metal amalgam, which reflects a clear image. A simple object, so I wondered if the mirror not being there was important at all. Was there ever a mirror? The dream was so perplexing and convoluted. There was a possibility that my brain had misplaced a memory. I barely even remembered anything from that ''vision'', the entire process was a bit indistinct. I decided to take no notice of the missing mirror, if it was ever ''missing'' in the first place, and turned back to the nurse. She was just looking at me with her hazel eyes as if I were a fish in an aquarium. A peculiar reaction from someone who looked scared stiff of me when we held eye contact for longer than a few moments, but everyone is special in different ways. She looked away again, her short hair bobbing, as if hearing my mocking thoughts. I apologise Ms Nurse. I shouldn''t be that rude. "You were found lying on the side of the street. The people who found you said that they never noticed you falling or even lying there. You just appeared," the nurse said accusingly. ¡±But anyways, are you feeling better?¡± The horrible pain in my head had regressed into a small ache located at the back of my eyes, not currently clouding my perception or thoughts. At least, that I could make sure of. "No, I just feel a slight discomfort in the back of my eyes," I replied, only feeling a bit dazed from my trip in dreamworld. The nurse continued to jot everything I said down in her small little notebook, the strawberry and blueberry cover contrasting with the nurse''s strict but nervous demeanour. Her name tag on her collar read "Selina". She was quite slow at writing, I noted. Selina looked back at me. I''m sorry, I said I would be nice. This time I would follow my word. "Well, we can give basic treatment for that..." Selina answered after careful deliberation. ¡°We tried to find you manually through the city¡¯s system, but we weren¡¯t able to. May I ask your name? I just need to fill out this form.¡± My name. Of course, I was fine with telling her my name, there was no harm in it. ¡±Of course. My name is..." My voice slowly drifted off into silence as my brain blanked out. What''s happening? "Sorry. Mind blank," I said sheepishly. Let me continue. "...si eman yM" I t''ndluoc kaeps. Why. Why why why why. WHY Is something stopping me from saying my name? The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Or... do I even know my name? My mind scattered into a million pieces, turning into glass shards. The light reflecting off of these pieces pierced through the room, eventually reaching some point right before infinity. The shards of glass danced in the light, jumping around, stabbing parts of my skull until I let out a ghoulish scream. The glass started slowing down, letting wisps of dark mist escape into the hospital room, trying to reach Selina. I grabbed the glass pieces with my bare hands, cuts marring the ethereal surface of my arm, and stuffed them back into my head. "May I ask your name? I just need to fill out this form.¡± My name. Of course, I was fine with telling her my name, there was no?hm? There''s something wrong with this situation. I looked at the clock, the time being 4:57 PM. I looked back at the nurse. "My name is?" I stopped speaking in the middle of my sentence, noticing something extremely amiss about this situation. A small buzzing sound had appeared since I had noticed the clock, as if trying to warn me something was terribly wrong. I looked back at the clock. Was there ever a clock there? I''m sure there was. After all, there are usually clocks in hospital rooms. Of course, there''s a clock there. Its hands waved at me in mockery, its slight tick-ticking sound annoying enough to make someone slowly go insane. The generic but familiar pattern was a bit off, maybe a manufacturing fault. Something was misleading with this clock. I stood up, ignoring the warnings Selina, the nurse, gave me and headed towards the ominous object. It was right in front of my face now, its ticking getting increasingly louder the longer I stared at it. Through my eyes, I noticed it morphing from a generic clock into a pool of metal, its hands curling in on themselves, and the wall behind it starting to crack. I reached out with my finger and tentatively touched the surface of the metal slump. *** In a small crevice located underneath the outskirts of the city, a large spherical object hung from the jagged ceiling, spitting out steam and creating subtle echoes within the cavern. A small red light beeped upon one of the surfaces of the sphere, pipes creaking and engines humming as a voice began to deliver a message. "One of our artefacts has been discovered. We can''t locate it anymore.¡± *** "May I ask your name? I just need to fill out this form.¡± This has happened multiple times before. I looked at the wall that previously contained the cursed clock, but there was nothing there. I looked at Selina. "Do you feel any sort of deja vu?" I tentatively asked the nurse. She just looked at me like I was stupid. "Sir, if you would just tell me your name?¡± Now, we''re back to the original problem. What is my name? "My name is¡­¡± It still doesn''t work. "My name... I''m not sure. I can''t recall it..." I haltingly tried to explain to the nurse. "What is my name?¡± I could see concern lighting up in Selina''s eyes. She wrote down something else in her notepad. If I wasn''t so worried about my identity, I would have thought that Selina had her entire life logged on that tiny notepad based on how many times she was using it. Crap, I was still being mean while she was here worried about me. I''m a terrible human being. "Your injury might be more serious than we thought... Are you sure you cannot remember your name? Do you remember any other important details? Where do you live?" Selina asked gently, attempting to impart a sense of hope through her words. "Do you have any family?¡± Where I live, if I have family... I could not find anything of note. I tried going back in time, but it was as if there was a sturdy wall blocking me from accessing any parts of my memory before I had woken up. I could only pick up the pieces that were left, like pieces of paper that had been shredded. I could barely connect some pieces of paper, displaying irrelevant information. How was this possible? Who am I? 3. Breaking Walls, Orange Robes and Eye Contact Who am ¡®I¡¯? What is ¡®I¡¯? What is a person? Is it a human being? Is it something with sentience? Something that thinks? Or is a person something that thinks it is a person? "I doubt therefore I think, I think therefore I am." (Ren¨¦ Descartes) I am doubting myself now. Is my only purpose recording what happens? An auto-observation machine used to make other people¡¯s lives easier? *** Who am I? An amalgamation of thoughts, feelings and knowledge. I don''t know anything about myself, I realised. My name, where I live, who I care about, my goals, ambitions, favourite foods, nothing. Am I really a person? Noticing my expression increasingly distorting, the nurse started to look more worried. "Sir, don''t worry. I will call a priest and get you examined right away. It will take no less than twenty minutes.¡± The nurse tried to assure me, but my current state of mind didn''t let me think anything positive about what she said. Priest? So what. No mindless chanting would help me regain my sense of self, if I ever had one. My thoughts were fixated on who I was, what I was, without any direction, questions pouring into my head and not being able to get out. Twenty minutes? So what. A lifetime could pass, and I could make new memories, but the ones locked behind the door of my mind would never be opened. I would never be who I ''truly'' was. Did it matter? I wasn''t sure. Am I the me right now, or am I the person who was ''before'', before the lost memories and the dreams and the mirrors and the clocks? *** Honestly, this patient made me feel terrified. His eyes looked like they saw right through me! I''m not sure how to describe it, but it was an extremely weird sensation. His eyes shone for a few moments, and then I felt an unfathomable pressure forcing me to look away, and I did. I must admit, I was a bit uneasy about treating this person. But he''s so pitiful! Left in the streets, with no one to help him. He can''t even remember a thing, the poor man! Looking at him fills my heart with sorrow, his eyes, curse those things, darting around in worry. Apparently, my attempt at reassurance had not affected his mental state, he was evidently still a bit worried. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "Don''t worry sir, I''ll be right back,¡± I told the patient while he was hunched over while sitting down on the bed, holding his head in his hands. Ohh, it was so sad. I decided to walk fast. Heading out the room, I entered a long corridor filled with doors just like the one I exited. The lamps hanging on the walls illuminated the sacred space, not letting a sliver of darkness invade this ''sanctuary''. After all, that is what sanctuaries are for. Heading towards the right of the corridor, walking straight through various crossroads (would it be called cross-corridors? Hm, I''m not sure), I reached a well-lit stairwell leading up one storey. A door was stationed at the top of the staircase, this one looking more fancy and professional than the others. Compared to the plain silver metal doors lining the outside hallways, this one made of rare oak gave a sense of grandeur. The numerous engravings carved meticulously deepened this effect, giving the oak door a large presence. I knocked, two swift raps, and the door mysteriously opened by itself, allowing me to enter the world of the ¡®higher-ups¡¯. Another lamp radiated brilliance throughout the entirety of the room, drawing attention to the intricately carpeted floor of the large area and the various bewitching objects. The room was lined by tall mahogany cabinets, a sign of luxury in this city, and was filled with numerous artefacts and holy items. I didn''t look at them for too long, since that was unadvised unless you were a transcendent. The constant sound of a typewriter clacking away into oblivion was the only movement in this otherwise uninterrupted scene. A person sat poised behind a sprawling mahogany, her silhouette bathed in the ethereal lamplight. The typing ceased and a voice penetrated the silence. "What brings you here?¡± The interrogator''s ghostly white eyes peered through the veil of mystery covering the room''s occupants, her slightly furrowed brows expecting a quick response. Her lengthy raven-black hair cascaded down over the red-yellow robe draped over her shoulders. The interrogator''s every move was deliberate and calculated, holding a strength that seemed to warp the space around her. "Ma-Ma''am... there is a patient who has suffered from amnesia.¡± "Call a priest and tell them to help you," the interrogator replied without blinking an eye, resuming her constant typing. The clacking was the only noise echoing throughout the room. "Umm, this case is a bit more serious than normal amnesia and illnesses. Looking directly into the patient''s eyes causes fear, and he cannot remember anything from before he woke up. I fear he may have been... corrupted.¡± The interrogator glanced back up, ceasing the typing and slightly moving from her position. "Looking in his eyes causes fear and he has lost all of his memories?" The interrogator questioned solemnly. "... yes.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± The interrogator rose from her seat, finally standing well over six feet tall. The towering figure made its way towards me and spoke. "Lead the way.¡± *** I was still wallowing in my start-life existential crisis, even when Selina left the room. She had been gone for quite a while now, presumedly calling a priest to assist me in regaining my memories. But I know it wouldn''t work. The blockade was too big, and no amount of force would budge it from its place. I heard the steps of two people walking in the corridor outside. One set, quick and agitated, obviously belonged to Selina, while the other was a mystery to me, their weighty tread resonating with purpose and resolve. The door swung open, and a giant towered over Selina from behind. "Sir, this is Interrogator Callis, in charge of the Prosecution Department of the Orion Municipality Council. I judged your case peculiar enough to warrant a meeting with her, but don''t worry. After this, you will be perfectly fine," Selina explained to me. Callis definitely looks like she''s an interrogator. Her fists probably dwarf my head in size, and are more comparable to maces than hands. Interrogator Callis walked over to me while taking something from the silver coat accentuating her frigid features. Her eyes drifted to mine, and time paused. The interrogator looked away after what felt like an eternity but amounted to a few moments. I could see a bead of sweat forming on her face, while I felt no different than normal. 4. Amulets, Fainting and Ghost Blades The interrogator started moving more hastily, extracting vials of liquids out from her endless robe and tokens of some sort from her necklace which was hidden by armour that she wore. The tinkling of the vials echoed throughout the room, filling it with some sort of sick tension. "Sit down," Interrogator Callis instructed me, and I peacefully followed her orders. Her pale, bleached eyes stayed stationary at my forehead, her stiff face holding some sort of trepidation. Her rapid movements and preparations allowed me to glimpse some more of her imposing features. Her sturdy obsidian armour covered all of her bronze skin, save her hands and face. The brass trimming accentuated the razor-sharp angles of the armour, parallel to the pointed gaze of the interrogator. A long scabbard ran down her back, visible through the stormy waves of the orangish robe. A small necklace drew my attention, hiding secretly below the chinks of the rough armour, its noticeably smooth metal surface gleaming in the lamplight. The intricate design featured a pure-blood ruby encased in a golden sun, conveying a sense of holiness and purity. The longer I stared, the more I noticed the complexity and the elaborate nature of the etching on the amulet, captivating me. The hierogram started to shake imperceptibly. I looked away. Hopefully, the interrogator hadn¡¯t noticed the abnormality. I back up at her. She hadn¡¯t. The interrogator was done setting up, discernable by the lines of flasks that lay on the table. They were all filled with various liquids of assorted colours, some blue, some pearly grey, while others seemed to shift between hues underneath the lighting. From within one of the pockets of her armour, the interrogator procured a small dagger. The rope blanketing the handle hinted at its extended use and small amounts of sand were hidden beneath the layers of cloth. Callis looked at me, the area right above my eyes, and held the dagger toward me. Personally, I counted myself as a newborn. I had no memories. I am brand new! I had been factory reset by some being, so killing me would count as murdering a baby, a horrible sin worthy of capital punishment! Someone, please tell Miss Interrogator Callis that before she sticks the knife deep within my ribcage! I shuddered at the scene my imagination fabricated, because it truly did look like the interrogator was preparing to gut me like a fish. Luckily, my nightmare never came true. Callis picked up a clear solution from the side table, after hovering over some other vials, and held it to me. ¡°Hold the flask,¡± she asserted. Not a fan of long sentences, huh? Now, before you shout at me, remember I said I wouldn¡¯t be rude to the nurse. I never specified anyone else. I took the flask from the interrogator¡¯s iron grip, the liquid sloshing as it moved. The viscous fluid slightly bubbled in protest, as if moving the vial caused discomfort to it. The substance was highly volatile and was most certainly poisonous. Well, it looked like it was poisonous anyway. I definitely wouldn¡¯t drink something like this, even if someone else demanded me to. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Drink it.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± ¡­ I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t want to be turned into a pancake by Madame Giant And Scary over here. My survival instincts kicked in, my response reverberating in the room before my brain caught up with what I said. I eyed the vial. Ugh. It didn¡¯t look appetising in the slightest. I glanced at the nurse standing near the door, hoping she would save me from this cruel fate. No, she just looked at me with concern and pity, and at the flask with disgust. So it wasn¡¯t just me who thought the vile liquid appeared disgusting. I brought the glass vial up to my lips, the aroma wafting up from the liquid filling me with a sense of dread. I leaned back and downed the entire flask in one go, trying my utmost to keep my nausea under control. I scowled at the interrogator, accusations heavily lacing my gaze. Callis just looked away, avoiding eye contact. Curse these nasty eyes, I can¡¯t even express my resentment properly. I should probably buy some sunglasses. Or rip my eyes out¡ªeither works. Would sunnglassess look cooler, or wouldd an eyeebpatch but on booth of themm, the ¡®i¡¯es. That woulf just bee a bandananana haha. Funny word makes me a bit lauhgy. Wat the helll? Whhaaat in the absolute worrld is hppening to me? What was in that disgusting potion?! My eyelids feeel a bitt drooppy¡­ *** The drugs had kicked in. The patient was lying on the bed, knocked out by the concoction I had given him. The potion should have him deep in his dream. The effectiveness was marketed as great and the source was reliable. Of course, why would a black market assassin have anything to lie about? I think I heard someone talking. This anomaly in the form of a sickly patient is a sign of ill omens. He was lying down on the bed, mouth frothing. Disgusting. Something was off with him. Looking into his eyes was agonising. It felt as though I was talking with the Pope, though it didn¡¯t feel as holy. The sun talisman I was wearing had started shaking, almost unnoticeably, whenever the patient looked at it. I couldn¡¯t make any hasty decisions. My fingers were itching to reveal my blade, but dealing with supernatural beings or objects was never as easy as slicing them apart. Unlike the Kinrimal. Most of them, anyway. I shook out the lingering thoughts, regaining my focus. The patient. He was still there. Eye contact caused fear and apprehension, meaning that the source of the uncanny feelings was most likely the eyes. But, to make sure, I had come up with a way to ensure the origin and danger of this oddity. What does he look like? The voice was back. Probably side effects from interacting with the corrupt for too long. Time to get this over with. I took the trusted dagger and promptly cut my palm, a trickle of blood falling from the wound before it healed. I cupped my hands and started praying. "In the radiance of Hyperion''s might, I spill my blood, a sacrifice to the sun''s eternal light." The lamps started flickering, glowing brighter and humming louder as I chanted the holy gospel of The Church Of Day, the blood in my hands abruptly transforming into an ethereal mist. It was as if the vapour was there but not at the same time. I decided not to dwell on these paradoxical thoughts too much. They were not a part of my job. The patient seemed to get a bit restless, probably from the increasing light. Strange. The drugs shouldn¡¯t allow him it to be affected by external influences while under the effect of the sedative. Better get this entire process done quickly. The prayer to Hyperion was not mandatory, but it was an added step for safety . Just in case anything went wrong, the light of the sun would protect me from any harm and disease. I walked towards the edge of the bed, my robe rustling. The patient¡¯s eyes rolled behind his eyelids. I took my dagger and held it with my thumb along the sharp blade, the coolness of the metal numbing my nerves. I pressed the point of the dagger to the patient¡¯s forehead, the blade of the dagger turning ghostly green. I pressed a bit harder with the dagger. Its eerie raw flesh went through the patient¡¯s forehead, travelling directly into his brain. 5. A Strange Place, A Square And Splashes I was back in dreamworld. The semi-familiar decaying room lay before me. The lamps had long burnt out. The two celestial beings hanging above the room shone a haunting light. Nothing in this strange world could escape from their sight. Everything else was the same. The door, which I was definitely not going through this time, lay in the same position, as did the side table. I stood up, my bare feet feeling the perforated concrete floor beneath me. The innumerable holes dotted into the concrete made me feel an intense sense of trypophobia. I diverted my eyes back to the peeling walls. I would throw up if I kept looking at the horrifying floor. I walked in circles around the room, keeping my bare feet away from the crevices bored in the concrete. I had to admit¡­ I was stuck. There was no way out of this room apart from the door, which according to previous experiences, was also not a way out of the room¡ªat least not to the actual ¡®outside¡¯. The breathing still haunted my ears, echoing whenever I recalled the hole. Ugh. I was not opening the door. Wracking my brain in search of a way to leave the crumbling room, I scrutinised the bed and side table pair. What if¡­ I moved the side table towards the door, allowing enough space to modify the position and bearing of the hospital bed. Exerting all the strength I had available in my meagre body and letting out a grunt of force, I laid the back of the bed vertically against the wall. The tip of the bed, from where the pillows had now fallen off, was fairly close to the tip of the wall. After shifting the side table close to the makeshift ladder, I climbed both pieces of furniture until my hand grasped the edge of the wall, hanging on for dear life. Barely lifting myself, my abdomen was now firmly on the top of the wall, with no remaining chance of falling back down to the awful concrete below. I panted, my quota of physical exercise completed for the year. I¡¯m extremely unfit, aren¡¯t I? Ignoring my growing sense of meagre sadness, I looked up towards the land outside the lone room. What¡­ where am I? An eternal expanse of darkness lay in every direction I surveyed, an immeasurable amount of twinkling stars providing the only light in this breathtaking realm. The stars littered the darkness, appearing not only in the sky but scattered across the tranquil surface of this extraterrestrial plane. The two sinister suns were nowhere to be seen, the dejected crimson atmosphere gone as if it was an illusion, morphing into this canvas of black dotted with white. It was beautiful. But also incredibly distressing. I moved my foot around, trying to find some balance on the thin walls, but to my horror, there was nothing underneath my feet. The wall, along with the entire room itself, had disappeared, leaving me stranded in this¡­ place? What was I supposed to call it? Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Fortunately, I was still upright without the support of the ground. I dunno how this worked, but I wasn¡¯t complaining. There was no way to tell exactly where the ground was, due to the encompassing darkness. If there was nothing underneath my feet, who knows how long I would have spent falling. I already had enough of that. I tiptoed around the invisible platform I was standing on. After careful observations, the area I could walk in was barely a square metre, allowing me to at least stand comfortably. I sat down, my head in my hands. Ever since I had woken up, things kept turning more and more bizarre. What was happening? The worst part was that I couldn¡¯t even tell who I was. I had no memories, no recollections of anything. I still had knowledge and understanding, but no sense of self. Tears threatened to drip down my scrunched-up face, the darkness choking me as the stars glimmered and sparkled. I focused my eyes on them. The individual stars danced in the sky, fireworks lighting up my pupils as the stars frolicked around my vision. One star turned into two, two turned into four, and this cycle repeated until the rest of the dark turned into stabbing brightness. A sudden splash of water tore me from my reverie, the light reversing back to the twinkling stars scattered throughout the obscure world around me. I looked towards the sound of the splash. It was around ten metres away from me, the ground rippled with an abrupt splash shattering the silent perpetuity of this tranquil void. The stars covering the ground slightly shook as the ripple moved outward, eventually settling back to their previous positions. Ah, the floor was water. Numerous more splashes diverted my attention from this discovery, turning increasingly more rushed. I could glean a sense of worry from the repeated splashes. After a small period of peace, an obsidian breastplate floated up, bouncing on the still surface of the water. The brass trimming and detailed faceting of the armour looked familiar. After the surfacing of the breastplate, a person rapidly sprung up from the depths, their panting audible from ten metres away. The stars allowed me to get a glimpse of their features, their figure almost blending in with the darkness. Light reflected on the pitch-black hair and the amulet they were wearing around their neck gave off its own ruby glow. Somehow, the person had already stopped gasping for breath and their attention was now solely on me. That¡¯s not good. How the hell do you drive this square?! The water parted with every stroke of the large figure¡¯s arms, the sound of the ripples and splashes echoing in this quiet and empty vacuum. I had gained an inkling of who this was by now¡­ The one who poisoned me! She¡¯s the reason I¡¯m in this strange place! I got on my knees, trying to push the water apart with my bare hands. In some faint part of my heart, I was hoping that I could paddle the illusionary floor away from the slowly catching up Miss Interrogator, though I never seemed to be getting further away from the furiously swimming woman. I don¡¯t know if it was because the magic rectangular square wasn¡¯t actually moving or if the speed of the interrogator was that much greater than the strength of my paddling. Hopefully, it was the first option. My nonexistent pride wouldn¡¯t be able to stomach the second one. Bleh, there was no point to these thoughts. Especially now that the interrogator had reached the edge of the square. I stood on the opposite edge of the floor, obviously not in fear, but to leave enough room for the interrogator to graciously get on if she so desired. I was not scared. She was scared. Let¡¯s see who would be laughing if I taped her eyes open and stared down at her menacingly! Sadly, trying to distract myself didn¡¯t work. Callis, the interrogator easily pulled herself up from the water with her tree trunk arms, minute drops of water hitting me as she stood up slowly. She looked down at me, her eyes scrutinising my appearance. I felt a tad bit scared. Wait a second, wasn¡¯t she supposed to be scared looking at me?! 6. A Task, Tongue-tied and A Terrified Figure I stood up from the generic office chair, pushing myself away from the long white desk I had been furiously typing on for the last 6 hours. My fingers cried at me, demanding a break. I fear if I didn¡¯t listen to them, they would go on strike and my work efficiency would deplete significantly. Anything but that. The alarm clock my boss had gifted me one fateful day started beeping, reminding me to get up and get some fresh air if my inner clock decided to stop working for whatever reason. I turned the alarm, along with the computer, off and headed towards the exit. The buzz of the workplace, a mix of clacking keyboards and hushed conversations, stayed with me even as I walked closer and closer to the exit, showing how diligent each worker was here at the company. It filled me with pride, knowing that I had contributed to this well-oiled machine of productivity and labour. The faint scent of coffee and the sterile smell of printer ink slightly lingered in the air, not too obvious but noticeable. ¡°Sol, there you are!¡± A voice broke my line of thought, which was quite annoying. I was about to reprimand the owner of this voice until I realised who it was. ¡°Ah, hello there. Do you need something?¡± I asked the person who had called for my attention. ¡°Yes, I just need you to go to the technology department and give them this drive. They¡¯ve been asking for it for quite a while, and my team has been rushing to complete this.¡± The person¡¯s long brown hair rustled as they shook their head in exhaustion. ¡°Sure,¡± I answered, eager to break the conversation and head outside. This small interruption was not accounted for in my daily schedule. ¡°But why can¡¯t you send the data through the cloud? Wouldn¡¯t that be more efficient?¡± ¡°Umm, we had thought of that, but¡­¡± The voice trailed off slightly towards the end, hesitating to continue. The person decided to reveal the rest of the sentence, albeit by whispering the contents in my ear. ¡°Uploading the data onto the cloud could potentially mean other departments could access the code, and the head of technology specifically asked us to prevent that from happening.¡± Admittedly, this information had piqued my interest somewhat. I agreed to become a courier for the drive, finishing the conversation and finally heading towards the exit. I was five minutes behind schedule, and this broke my heart. *** Based on previous observations, which were undoubtedly correct (this is not 100% proven true), other people would feel apprehensive if they looked at my eyes. I¡¯m not sure if this was some supernatural occurrence, which is completely possible looking at the surroundings, or if I was just that ugly. Please, dear God, I hope it¡¯s some supernatural voodoo magic or something. Well, all these thoughts were actually in response to my surprise that Lady Interrogator was staring at me, shattering all the recently formed preconceptions I had about my scary eyes. Her bleached eyes looked at me directly. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Before the interrogator had first looked at me in the hospital room, I had wondered if she was blind. But, after less than a second, it was obvious that wasn¡¯t the case. After around twenty seconds, the giant in front of me started speaking. ¡°Who are you?¡± My shivering paused. Who am I? Did you not see me literally ten minutes ago? You were the one who poisoned me! I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m not really suited to all this magic supernatural stuff. But¡­ am I? Don¡¯t worry! Within the time she had reached my homely little square, I had already drafted multiple imaginary responses to any 101 questions that Miss Interrogator would ask me. ¡°My- I uh¡­ um. You¡­ Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± My words started off strong, but the confidence level behind each word progressively became lower and lower. Well fuck. ¡°Sorry, I mean¡­ um¡­¡± My words trailed off once again. I had the perfect thing to say in my head, but everything disappeared as soon as I opened my mouth. Right as I was about to completely shatter the confidence of this giant, someone came to my brain, right where sentences were made and flicked the entire word manufacturing facility. This wasn¡¯t fair. I let out an invisible tear, wondering whether this was related to the barrier around my memories or if I was just stupid. *** After the blade was carefully inserted in his head, I was transported to this fairy-like world. It was undoubtedly beautiful, however it didn¡¯t look like anything I had ever seen before. After countless interrogations, both failed and successful, I was blessed with the opportunity to understand the myriad of different ways people thought. The way their brains work, and how they interact with their own emotions and the influences of others. It was all incredibly interesting, and I had often wondered whether the career I chose was fit for me. Spending my days scrunched over stacks of pearl white paper dotted with small ink letters, researching with my various colleagues on any fascinating topic. Psychology was just one of the countless subjects I had found captivating. Unfortunately, destiny had a different plan for me. Here I was, struggling to breathe air, water engulfing my lungs. All I could hear was the heart beating in my chest nonstop, working terribly to keep me alive. The water attempting to pressure my limbs into submission was noticeable, but nothing too big of a problem. The main issue was how I was constantly sinking into the dark abyss that lay beneath me. Violently thrashing one hand to keep myself above the surface of the throbbing water, I tried to unbuckle my armour. It wasn¡¯t too difficult, but the fear of endlessly drifting downward and drowning in this unknown place made my actions a bit more rushed than I would have liked. Everything was almost off now. The chest plate was all that was keeping me from floating. I used both hands to take the hefty armour off, my desperate pulls on the water''s surface ceasing for an unbearable amount of time. I saw the armour waft up slowly, breaking the surface of the water right before I did. I urgently took in deep gasps of air, trying to fill my lungs with something other than water. That was terrible. No matter how strong I was, I couldn¡¯t breathe underwater forever. I was utterly exhausted from flailing around in the water. Now having the ability to look around and survey my surroundings, the scenery was still as breathtaking and empty as before. Well, almost. There was a lone figure suspended in midair facing toward me. As I turned to face it, it looked startled and started turning left and right. Feeling no threat from this figure blending in with the darkness behind him, I started swimming over to it. The motionless water parted with every movement of my hands, my weighty armour no longer slowing me down. I made it to the figure quite quickly and saw that instead of being suspended, it was instead standing on an invisible surface. It had been pacing around in a squarish circle, a squircle, ever since I had started swimming towards it. I grabbed onto the edge of the invisible surface, pushing my hands up to launch me onto the square floor. The figure had now moved to stand at the complete edge of the square, almost falling back into the water. I had to find out where I was. The ritual didn¡¯t always work properly, so for now I treating this place as if it were reality. The figure in front of me didn¡¯t look like the patient, so I decided to ask it who it was.