Uncle Chan cringed at the colorful ad. What did these shirtless men and shameless women with big and shiny swords want from him? As if he'd fall for such—
Build your kingdom with immemorial jade beauties!
Triumph over demonic dungeons for wealth and glory!
Eternal Power! Elaborate System!! Endless Expansion!!!
I look up at the dragon. At his condescending gaze.
"Fortune has abandoned you, a flame on a frozen field."
The scythe presses sharp against my neck. Blood snows from hell.
Hell now and then, hell ever after. This fairy tale was never meant to have a happy ending.
How long since I've been lost in this world? Are they waiting for me still? Is she still—
"It's over."
I wonder if it ever truly began. If so, when?...
When did it all begin to fall apart?
From the very beginning?
From the very beginning…
***
Every day feels the same. Some kids pursue passion. Others chase goals. And me? Hahh. I just exist. Nothing moves me now that my body's old.
In my youth, I pursued thrills also. I fought in the underground rings where every brawl could end me. I broke bones for money and it paid better than an honest job.
So it went.
All highs come with a fall. I now count my days while awaiting the inevitable.
Though there are still rare moments worth holding onto in these miserable days of mine.
"Uncle Chuan! Happy birthday!" shouts the scrawny kid before me. The boy.
"Greetings, Uncle. Happy birthday to you!" babbles the other one. The girl.
My nephews.
I limp to the door, open my arms wide, and embrace the twins as I buckle. My back screams in pain despite the innumerable spine surgeries I've spent half my life savings on.
"Hahaha! Look who's grown so much! You were at my knee the last time we met. It was just a month ago," I greet grandly.
The girl hugs my arm while the boy, the bastard, climbs onto my shoulder.
"Let go, Cei!" my sister Mei shouts at the little dipshit, hanging the coats on a hanger as she steps through the doorway.
She then takes off her shoes and says in a disciplinary tone, "Uncle has undergone another operation. He's not well. Let go of him this instant!"
"Lies! No way!" Cei raises his hand, staring back at his mother with a furrowed brow. "Uncle is strong, so strong in fact he can carry a boulder on his fingertip! Didn't you say so yourself, Mom? Isn't that right, Uncle?"
The boy looks back and forth between Mei and me.
"Of course! There's nothing this uncle of yours isn't capable of!" I lie shamelessly, lifting the boy high into the air.
A proud smile suppresses my screams. Internally, I cry rivers.
"Me too! Me too!" says Wei, raising her hands and waving them with a stupid grin on her small face.
Oh hell no. These unfilial children haven't seen the face of a slipper or the whip of a belt, it seems to me.
Anyway, I lift the other kid, too.
Oh, is that a crack I just heard? It can't be my spine, can it?
I slowly put the two rascals down, barely holding myself back from dropping them midway. My neurologist won't be pleased at tomorrow's meeting.
It is worth it still. I'd rather die a man than a coward! This kind of sacrifice is nothing. I don't want Cei and Wei to think of me as some weak old man destitute of strength when they grow.
I lead the family to the kitchen and slump onto the sofa. After some small talk, Mei prepares dinner while the children go play in the living room. They build a bastion from all the pillows they can find throughout the house.
"How have you been?" my sister asks absentmindedly, tasting the soup she's boiling with a spoon. "Still clinging to old life? You look like you're about to kick the bucket from boredom."
"Not at all. I've long said my goodbyes to my associates," I say, grabbing some bread.
"As for health," I mumble, biting into the dough. "I'm more or less fine. Nothing to worry about. Didn't you see for yourself?"
She sighs in clear annoyance, lightly stamping her foot on the floor. "Have you found any hobbies? Maybe a woman? It's not the health I'm most worried about."
"Hobbies, you ask? Well, I've been writing a book recently," I tell her as I listen to the kids quarrel in a room afar.
"A book?" she asks with bewilderment in her voice. "Would never think you're into literature. But…"
Mei turns the gas off, opens a shelf above, and takes a handful of bowls. "Come to think of it, you used to be into reading literary fiction when we were young, before you got involved with the mafia…"
"So," she utters, "what's the book about?"
"Not sure yet," I say as the delicious smells assault my nose. "I've been inspired by the novel I recently read. I'm cranking out a few pages daily."
"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad for you."
"Thanks."
She sets the dishes on the table one by one: vegetables, bowls filled with red soup, more bread, and then the utensils and napkins.
"Any news from your friend?" she asks. "The last time you said he was opening a business. A restaurant. What was his name again… ah, Gin. Right."
"Ah," I muster, grabbing the ancient spoon she hands me after sitting. "Shot dead. Gambling debts got to him. I knew it was coming, but pretty sad that with Gin, everyone's dead now."
"Didn't he quit?"
"No way," I say, spooning the bowl of creamy delicacy before me and puffing on it to cool it down. "Gambling is as severe an addiction as smoking and drugs. Only a few crawl back from the rabbit hole once deep in. Gin wasn't one of them, unfortunately. Well, he didn't have much to lose besides his life anyway."
Mei kicks my knee from under the table. "You realize how depressing you sound?"
I sigh.
"Wait, I know," she says, pointing at me.
"Have you had a hand in video games?"
"Video games?" I look at her questioningly. "That's children's stuff. I remember playing Mario and… you remember that game with the tank we used to play? Was fun, but I think I've grown out of it."
Mei forces one more piece of bread into my hand as I finish the last. "Not that… Like RPG games and stuff…"
She heaves a sigh. "How do I explain… Uh, they've got action. You explore an open world: trade items, manage territories, fight monsters, and progress through leveling up. You should give it a go. Our company has been developing one recently. They'll even grant you exclusive items as an early player."
"Listen, Mei," I tell her, locking eyes with hers.
Her messy hair covers her dead-fish eyes and the dark bags beneath them. Her pale skin looks illsome, and her thin hands waver, the nails dirty and unkempt.
"You don't have to worry about me at all. I'm fine. I'll be fine. You have a busy life with work and two responsibilities on your shoulders, so better worry about yourself."
"Three responsibilities," she interjects with fuss, fingering the table. "You've taken care of me before; now it's my turn. I didn't realize sooner."
I extend my hand and firmly grab hers. She blinks tiredly, her tremors ceasing, her expression softening.
Blinking, the lights above color the table in a yellow tone. The tune of the chirps from the open window disrupts the silence.
"Let's not talk about it. The past is past," I say, backing and forking a piece of tomato from the plate to my left. "You know what would truly drive me mad? If you were to suffer. As long as I can see you and the kids smile, I'll be happy."
Mei looks down. "It's just… the children have lost their father, I don't want them— us to lose you too… Speaking of which…"
"Cei! Wei!" Mei calls, taking her chance to leave the table.
"The food is getting cold!"
"...Just five more minutes!" the little rascal yells from the other end of the house.
There she goes.
I grab my phone as I feel the vibration of a notification. Something's come to my mailbox.
How weird. I'm pretty sure I've paid the due bills: TV, gas, lights… oh, the internet? Strange. I thought I still had four days.
As I swipe, the notification appears: a massive banner with dozens of fantastical creatures and mythical weapons in a row.
At the center stands a kid, an angelic boy with a clever face, rainbow hair, and feathers covering his bare body.
His left hand is extended in a welcoming manner, while his other hand holds a thunderbolt.
The Fish Constellation Pisces grants you an opportunity to participate in the Grand Battle Royale!
Press now and escape into the magical and mysterious world of Noitavitluc!
An ad?
How come? I've never logged into any catchy sites before. What's this anyway?
I push my finger onto the delete button, yet before I click, I halt.
"...You've made such a mess! Who's going to clean it all, huh?!" Mei shouts.
"...Wei will! She's behind most of it!" Cei screeches.
"...Lies! It was Cei! I swear!" Wei weeps.
Scooping one more spoonful of the warm soup and slurping it, I press on the ad, which brings me to a weird website.
Indeed, it's a game.
As I'm reading the description, I get more and more invested.
Log in to claim a free character pull!
Build your kingdom with immemorial jade beauties!!
Triumph over the demonic dungeons for wealth and glory!!!
Become the hero of our story now!
Reading further, I reach the bottom of the page. There's a huge, shiny download button in the hands of a cute maid.
But when I press it, a survey pops up.
1: Is all life equal?
No
Yes
—
What kind of question is this out of nowhere? Maybe it's not a game, but some secret government shenanigans.
I should've known not to indulge my curiosity.
But I can't exit the questionnaire. No matter which button I press or how many times I tap the screen, the message doesn't change.
Do I have no option but to answer?
"...Nooo!!! Don't touch our castle!"
"...Mean! Mom is so mean!!!"
I mean… I don't have much to do.
It says question number one, which posits the chance of numerous following questions.
What will await me in the end? Do all the games nowadays force you into a survey?
Curiosity takes hold of me. I reread the question.
1: Is all life equal?
No
Yes
—
Three options. The first is disagreement. The second is for agreement. At last, the third is for neutrality or avoidance. Presumably.
Equality? Hmm… This is a tricky question. It asks whether one life holds more value than another.
But… how do we go about determining the value?
From what they possess? No. Wealth, for example. What is the use of wealth for a dying man?
Even eternity. What is the use of eternal life for a man desiring death?
It's hard to discern the value of matter too.
Water is a calamity for a drowning man, yet it is a necessity for a thirsting man.
On the other hand, what if the drowning man wants to drown, and the thirsting man wants to wither?
So, is there a universal value that we can attach to things?
2: Is there no absolute truth?
No
Yes
—
What a weird question. What is the truth of things? Is there such a thing as an absolute truth? Hmm…
The truth…
Beauty, let's say. Beauty is generally considered to be an excellent quality…
Yet does this always hold true?
For example, a carpenter ignores an ugly tree. Its ugly qualities save it from being cut.
Now, with all the supposedly beautiful trees dead, who can say it's atrocious? Who is to say it's useless?
The dead cannot talk. The wooden house cannot speak.
In the end, the one remaining tree cannot talk either. Is it beautiful? Is it ugly?
If a man sleeps in a damp place, his back will ache, and he will end up half-paralyzed. But does that apply to a loach?
If a loach lives in a tree, he is terrified and shakes with fright. But is this true of a monkey?
Of these three creatures, then, which one knows the proper place to live?
3: Is there no good and evil?
No
Yes
—
What is good, and what is evil? My mind is clouded with uncertainty.
Why is the survey so overly complex? Or am I overthinking?
Good? Evil? Ha…
For a man, the death of a pig is inconsequential, while the death of a dog is aggravating.
What makes the dog more precious than the pig?
Why is the slaughter of countless pigs considered a norm, yet the death of a single dog mournful?
Why is one good, the other evil?
For a man, the death of an old man is saddening, while the death of a young girl is insufferable.
What makes the girl more precious than the man?
Why is the slaughter of countless men in wars considered a duty, yet the death of a single child sensational?
Why is one good, the other bad?
An old man proclaimed as a wise ruler will have people lament his death.
An old man proclaimed as a murderer will have people cry with joy at his death.
What if these two are the same person?
What if the wise ruler of his people is also the cruel murderer of others?
Does this make him an evil or a good person?
"...At-at-a— My ear! I'm sorry, I'm sowwy—"
I answer the questions one by one. It's been a while since I've given things this much thought.
…Does this quiz ever end?
6: Is there a meaning of life?
No
Yes
—
12: Is a government in need of absolute authority with an iron fist?
No
Yes
—
17: Is it foolish to be proud of one's country?
No
Yes
—
29: Is the primary function of schooling to nurture the future generation to find jobs?
No
Yes
—
Sigh… I think my phone is broken. This is definitely an interrogation of sorts, but I've gotten so far…
I want to see what happens after I complete the query…
The questions are becoming more specific and targeted. The first ones were way funnier and easier to respond to.
32: Is an individual depriving themselves of their lives under societal pressures committing a justifiable act?
No
Yes
—
Is life ever worth giving up on?
Few would color the world red for the slimmest chance to prolong it.
Is life ever a gift worth any?
Fewer still would wish they were never cursed to experience it.
Who among them has any right to speak of left and right or right and wrong?
Go left, and nothing will be right.
Go right, and nothing will be left.
33: What faction do you believe most resembles you?
Righteous
Demonic
Neutral
Oh, a different answer set?
"Hey!" I hear as something shakes my arm. I look at Mei's annoyed expression.
"I've been calling you again and again. Are you out of it?"
Huh?
I absentmindedly glance at the children beside her. At the girl with a freckled face, who has her head hung low, and the boy with folded arms, his face turned, a red handmark present on his cheek that he so desperately tries to hide.
"Hey! Are you fine?!"
Why would I not be? I nod my head. "What's happened? Why are you so worked up?"
Congratulations! You have a 100% alignment with the Demonic Faction!
Hmm? The survey finally ends. I didn't choose to be demonic, though. Weird. What now—
"Hey! Chua—"
You've been given a |Villain| Title!
A mechanical voice echoes in my head.
Her voice is light, soft, smooth, soothing, sweet, amiable.
Then why is it rough and bleak and bitter and noisy and nasty and— cruel, distant, and cold all the same?
"ARGHH!"
I scream my lungs out.
Painful! How agonizingly painful!
Gift |The Hero's Curse |A|| has been granted!
Damage against the players with |Hero| Title -50%
Gift |Reverse Plot Armor |S|| has been granted!
Luck Attribute -50%
Experience Gain -90%
Divinity Resistance -90%
I can feel my luck leave my body, the distance between me and the faraway divine entities furthering. The gods, whoever they may be, completely give up on me.
My nose bleeds.
I press my hands hard on my eyes, blinded by burning sensations.
The innards of my head melt. The pain. Unbearable. Unstoppable.
You've been chosen as one of the 72 Demon Lords to rule over the demons!
Race |Human |F|| has been promoted to |Demon Lord |S||!
For the perfect results in the survey, you've been chosen as one of the 7 Archdemons to rule over the Demon Lords!
Race |Demon Lord |S|| has been promoted to |Archdemon |SS||!
To suppress the pain, I bite my lip as hard as possible.
Forcing a smile right after, I lick the blood flowing down my nose.
Commencing Inauguration…
Commencing Pathway Selection…
Chapter 0. Walpurgis Night — Phase 0
"Chuan! Brother Chuan! Hold on! I'm calling the ambulance!"
Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by a foggy space and a round table.
Seven other people sit around it.
With small horns on their heads, all except one appear human.
The exception, a rainbow-haired boy, the same angelic figure from the ad banner, catches my attention. He's the only one who looks different, not just in appearance.
The others are confused, scurrying their eyes across the space.
This boy, however, overflows with confidence. His hands are clasped before him as he smilingly sweeps his relaxed gaze across each individual.
Finally, his sunny eyes fall on me, his lips furthering down.
"Attention, everyone!" he calls with authority. "You seven have been chosen to become Archdemons."
All seven pairs of eyes fall on him.
"No!" he bellows, raising his brows. "You chose to become Archdemons of your own volition. You lot are the most evil scum among the millions."
"The lowest of the low."
Silence befalls. Some listen attentively, uncaring about the insult. Some hold to their confusion. Some even laugh.
What's happening?
I remember completing a survey and then an immense pain taking over me.
What happened after? Wait…
What happened before?
"My memories! Only fragments of who I was remain!" I shout at the rainbowhead, pointing a finger at him.
"Who are you?! What have you done to us?!"
I try to stand, yet I can't. I'm stuck to the grand obsidian throne.
I strike my fist against the gargantuan ebony table, the drum blitzing through the space like thunder.
"You motherfuc—"
"Patience, lowly demon." The very moment he raises his finger, my voice dies down. "Such a raw temperament. Lacking common sense, I see. Well, you wouldn't be a demon otherwise, you mongrel."
I open my mouth. No words come.
Did he just seal my voice or something?
Infuriating. How dare he?!
Bloodlust courses through my veins.
If I were to be released, I fear I'd pop his head before getting an answer…
My thoughts are disrupted when I hear the blonde sitting to my right giggling.
I gaze at her piercingly, yet she only waves at me cheerfully.
"Anyhow," the rainbowhead says, clapping his hands. "Let's get started with the Inauguration Ceremony, shall we?"
At the center above the table, cracks start to form in the space.
Bluish colors swamp from the fractures, and a transparent orb emerges from the opening fissure.
The Fragment of The Great Dao
Words form in my head, identifying the object before me.
That's not what I should pay attention to.
I turn my head to the rainbowhead, observing every expression he makes with utmost attention. For hints and such. This bastard is a prime suspect in being responsible for everything, after all.
On his face, I see reverence and respect directed toward the orb.
That orb moves toward a pale man in a black robe with a golden cross on his chest.
A member of the clergy? How familiar…
Pride Sin Songdra
The words form inside the orb, identifying the middle-aged man.
Its colors repeatedly change as it circles him, his raven hair waving as the orb speeds.
The man stares ahead with his skyly eyes, expressionless and unreadable.
At last, the orb halts, shaking.
Then, in the spur of a moment, a smaller blue orb splinters off The Great Dao.
The Fragment of the Time Pathway
It whisks and closes in on the man, puncturing through his right eye.
A lazuli clockwork tattoo forms in and around his eye, with gears coalescing around the iris and metallike lines scoring outward.
His face ages. His horns grow tall and straight, starting as blue and whitening the farther they rise to the top.
The strands of his hair turn darker, his eyes brighter, ocean-clear.
Two sapphire wings sprout from his back.
The Archdemon of Time,
The Lord of Dragons,
Pride Sin Songdra
Finally, he stops glowing.
On the table before him forms a staff half his size, with an hourglass spinning on its head.
Throughout the process, I didn't take my attention off the rainbowhead even for a moment. When the time pathway fragment was separated from the orb, he drew his brows together in annoyance.
It appears to me the time pathway is strong, given that it soured the rainbowhead's mood.
After all, he clearly views us as enemies…
The blonde to my right gasps without a care for our predicament.
"So cool!" Her dark eyes sparkle.
"Time Pathway! Isn't that a cheat?! Imagine your enemy draws their sword only for you to stop the time and shove it up their ass!"
She receives weird glances from the others. I want to voice my agreement, but I can't speak.
"But say, what happens if you foresee the future? To give an example, what if you'd eat a cake and sit on a cock the following morning, but after having a look at the future, you gobble a cock and sit on a cake instead. Wouldn't that create a time paradox—" Her voice breaks.
She gapes, yet not a single peep comes out of her mouth.
"How vulgar," the rainbowhead sneers, frowning. "Don't show your filthy nature before me, mongrel. In the presence of The Great Dao, at that."
Fuck The Great Dao.
I see that the blonde and I think alike. She points a middle finger at the orb and raises her other hand with a finger aimed at the rainbowhead. Not a single flying fuck given.
Yeah. Him too. Fuck him too. Sincerely.
The Great Dao moves to the seat opposite, floating above a dark man.
His stature gives the impression of a bodybuilder, yet his stern demeanor and clothes speak of a soldier.
Envy Sin Goliath
This time, a smaller fragment parts from the orb, purple.
The Fragment of the Mind Pathway
It paves toward the man's forehead, hazy on its way.
There, an amethyst marking of an eye forms, malicious, double the size of his determined eyes.
He grows in size also, his clothes stretching, then tearing apart.
The horns grow as well, sideways, akin to a bull's. Brutish, with purple and yellow tints.
The Archdemon of Mind,
The Lord of Giants,
Envy Sin Goliath
Gauntlets materialize, one violet and the other pearly yellow, with golden spikes and paddings predominant on each.
Throughout this, the rainbowhead didn't frown.
He's still annoyed, clearly. Yet not as much as he was with the dragon guy.
It's settled, then. More likely than not, the larger the orb in size, the stronger it is.
I'd love to discuss it with others, but my mouth is shut. Though, that's me.
What about them? Why don't they talk?
Are they wary of each other or the rainbowhead?
Boring fuckers.
The orb continues in its path, moving toward an excited young man.
His lab coat crinkly and wet, he extends his gloved hand toward The Great Dao.
"This is not a dream…" he whispers under his breath, hesitant.
"In this life…"
Greed Sin Deviod
"In this life, I'll reach immortality! Hahaha!" he declares, laughing like a maniac. His arms outstretch to the sides.
"No matter what!"
Nice. Another crackhead.
His eyes shine as the bright, utterly white sphere departs from the orb. Small in size in comparison to the mind and time pathway fragments.
Yet, the very next moment, a second sphere departs. Devoid of shine, black like starless skies.
They revolve around each other, like yin and yang.
They then fuse.
The Fragment of the Death Pathway
Turning gray, the new orb fully converges on the man's nose.
Below his left eye forms an image of a white cicada flying toward the black lotus under his right eye. Gray embers mark his nose, spreading as they reach the black lotus, amidst which stands a candle.
His skin pales further, his eyes darkening. Most strands of his hair turn ashen.
Curvy horns form from his temples, almost quarter-circular. One on the right grows white, bone-like, while the other appears darker than charcoal.
The Archdemon of Death,
The Lord of Ghosts,
Greed Sin Deviod
He seizes the deathly sharp scythe twice his size, his cloudy eyes abnormally wide and manic.
Great! The rainbowhead is clearly pissed. Good job, young man! I'll cheer for your success! Kill as many of these fuckers as you can on your way to immortality!
I start clapping, and the blonde, my spiritual ally, joins me. She attempts to whistle, yet to no avail. Instead, she intensifies her claps.
Yeah! Me too! The enemy of our enemy is our friend!
The Archdemon of Death, as one would assume from his name, ignores our applause. Truly an epitome of edginess. Impudent youngster.
The blonde starts to boo at his dismissal, shaking her head disapprovingly.
The Great Dao flies toward an even younger person in a high-school uniform from some private school.
Her chestnut hair reaches her dotted skirt while her jade eyes remain disinterested.
Overall, she looks more dead than The Archdemon of Death.
Sloth Sin Asherah
"Is this karma for wasting my parents' credit card on gacha games?" she asks in a whisper, adjusting her puffy headband and lazily turning toward the rainbowhead.
"The scary uncle was right. Memories are gone. I can't even remember their faces… I only vividly remember a survey with meaningless questions… Whatever. Do I get a bonus for becoming an Archdemon? Can I switch sides and join the heroes or whatever? Since there are villains, surely there are heroes. What are the drop rates? What's the difficulty?"
What the fuck is wrong with these people?
"Demons will remain demons, filthy and irredeemable," the rainbowhead spits, begging for a punch with his smug expression.
"That's kinda racist." The girl yawns, fixing her glasses. "Sloth? I'm not even that lazy. I grind twenty-four-seven. I don't remember much, but among all the games I've played, this kind of game I haven't seen. Whatever, I guess."
This time around, it's a green ball. It rushes toward her right cheek.
"It is what it is. Whatever happens, happens."
The Fragment of the Nature Pathway
On her right cheek forms a rose with every green color. Sparkly. Light and dark. Grassy and lime green, soft and sap green, and mint and pastel green all the same.
The rose blooms, all thorny and leafy.
Her eyes brighten, turning emerald, sparkling like an emerald would.
Her messy hair straightens and flows like honey, and her tired expression soothes into harmony. Calmness, seamless tranquility, complete and utter semblance with mother nature.
All the while, her skin dries further, her height lowers further too, and her hair brightens before lengthening, reaching her feet.
Two horns grow like branches.
The Archdemon of Nature,
The Lord of Nymphs,
Sloth Sin Asherah
Before her, a sword, just a straight wooden sword, minimalistic in its appearance, comes to fruition. Literally. Sprouting from the strands of her hair, the extension of her being.
Despite the smaller size of the orb she absorbed, especially in comparison to the time pathway fragment, this girl seems like the most capable among the bunch.
It's just a hunch, of course.
Yet something tells me within the facade of a high-schooler hides a…
"Whatever," she mutters. "I thought I'd get an OP ability. How unlucky…"
Lies. A masquerade. I can't tell where I've developed the instinct. Only one thing I can tell. One thing.
From her actions. From her lack of emotions. From her eyes. From her behavior. From her demeanor. I've been through innumerable life-and-death brawls, surviving on luck, petty tricks, and schemes. What kind? I don't know. When and where? I don't know. Yet, despite missing my memories, the animalistic instinct developed within me remains. It screams—
Avoid that girl.
Avoid that pain in the neck at any cost.
What may at first seem like an innocent youngling is in actuality a walking catastrophe sure to bring forth a cataclysm. A greater disaster that has never before been seen or is never to be seen after.
The rainbowhead directs his gaze elsewhere, dismissing the girl with slight annoyance.
No one else but me can see. What exactly?
"Uncle? Are you into younger women? What a creep."
She knows it. She knows something no one else does. Exactly what?
"I'm barely graduating from school this year. Well, I was about to."
I don't know. The fact that she's played many games before? Her being good at them? The presented probability of her already knowing this game?
No. That's where she's guiding us. These are merely distractors. A ploy.
I try and try, but no ideas come to mind!
How frustrating! Think!
Why am I so fucking stupid—
Lust Sin Takshaka
Oh? During the time I was ruminating, The Great Dao flew toward yet another individual.
Right, I can think about her later. There are more pressing matters at hand.
Why am I so hot-headed to begin with? Was I always like this?
No. I get unreasonably angry and lose control.
There's logic behind everything. What may seem unreasonable initially must have a reason behind it; I just don't know it yet.
Did they mess with my head?
The Fragment of the Decay Pathway
I slap my face.
It's not time to theorize but rather to gather as much information as I can! Concentrate!
"Why are you so harsh with your body? Friend?" asks a handsome bastard. "To care is to firstmost take care of yourself. Always. One must foremost care for oneself. Always. That's where you find love for the world. Remember."
Motherfucker, learn to talk before you point to others' inadequacies — is what I'd love to say. The rainbowhead be damned.
Unseal my fucking vocal cords!
Back to the handsome bastard. I look at him as a large pink orb pierces his lips.
There, a tiny bit above, whiskers sprout.
The lips enlarge and pinken, standing against his bronzed skin and reddish chin-length hair. Some of those strands change in color: a slight green, brown, and red.
Pink droplets mark the area between his lips and chin.
He grows body fur as a foxy, fluffy tail extends from his back, fiery, withering toward the tip.
Overall, he's dressed like a pimp. An expensive white and orange pinstripe suit, a repertoire of accessories like golden watches and shiny rings, and a fedora hat with tiger linings and a straight black feather.
He also has a disposition one would expect from a popular Hollywood actor.
The pimp guy swipes his poisonous, raspberry eyes through the rainbowhead, four spirally horns with pinky dots and varying shades of dark reds growing on his head.
Licking his jelly lips, he savors the boy's body proportions with his molten gaze.
"There's not an ounce of innocence on your cute little face. Fascinating. I don't think I would enjoy it as much as I'd love to. Then. But I do still love new experiences. Delightful. The younger they are—" His voice breaks.
Talk about creeps. Well, this time, the sealing of voice was justified.
The Archdemon of Decay,
The Lord of Chimeras,
Lust Sin Takshaka
A thick amulet, going in a circle around his hairy chest, manifests. The silvery chain, with a giant black spider insignia at its center, sets against his veins.
Strange. The size of the orb was definitely larger than the fragment of the time pathway. Yet the rainbowhead, despite his annoyed sighs, doesn't seem very staggered.
Then, does the size not matter?
After all, how can decay be a grander concept than time itself?
Oh! On the other hand, how can chimeras compare to a mythical race as grand as mighty dragons? Maybe that's the reason.
What if it's not the fragment of the time pathway the rainbowhead is vexed about but rather the dragons?
Perhaps even a combination of both.
That's the most likely scenario.
Gluttony Sin Hlam
Again, I watch the giant orb, The Great Dao, as it levitates above the blonde. It seems our turn has come. But gluttony?
I've never considered it, but how is gluttony different from greed?
The two concepts sound similar to me. Gluttony appears to be a more extreme version of greed, is all.
At the same time, they're like complete opposites.
Greed is the desire to possess, while gluttony is the desire to devour.
One collects, and the other destroys.
One is just insatiable, and the other is always hungry.
Anyhow, I hope she gets a nice—
The Fragment of the Slaughter Pathway
My friend?! Are you okay in there? Surely this must have been random.
Slaughter? This doesn't fit her at all.
Yet why do I feel she has the biggest screw loose inside her head among everyone here?
Again, it's a gut feeling.
Should I trust these hunches of mine? How do I even get these?
The crimson-red orb approaches the woman in workwear.
She looks average. Not appealing, yet not hideous. A person whose face one would forget the next moment they see.
Even her clothes are regular. Long, white sleeves. Straight, navy jeans.
Her empty eyes are dark, and her smile is light, yet also empty. Her honey-blonde hair is tucked behind her ears.
Despite the lack of makeup, her natural face gives the impression she's wearing a thick mask. And behind that mask, it's as though there's a void. Not malice, or hatred. Just absolute emptiness. Worse, even. Emptiness beyond emptiness. A black hole.
Just as the orb almost touches her pale skin, it halts.
A smaller orb splinters off The Great Dao, the color of the abyss, shooting toward the crimson orb.
They converge, forming an ominously bloody orb before it infuses onto her neck. Larger than any orb I've seen yet. Excluding The Great Dao itself, of course.
The rainbowhead gapes at that, his brows twitching.
This is a face I'd pay to see. I'm sure the pimp guy would pay handsomely too, though for an entirely different reason.
Her skin brightens. Snowy white, that of a porcelain doll.
Her eyes darken. That of the darkest of the dark, abysmally black.
There aren't even any irises there. No nothing. Just pure pools of cosmic corruption.
Her lips pale, and the strands of her hair similarly lose their life.
Thin horns rise from the forehead, slightly backward toward the tip to avoid obstructing vision, yet pointy and deadly.
Dark, also.
A bloody serpent begins to coil around her neck, biting at its tail after finishing a full circle—an ouroboros—a snake that devours itself.
Shit looks scary. If anything, she looks like a demon the most out of everyone here.
She looks at me, winking.
The Archdemon of Gluttony,
The Lord of Plagues,
Gluttony Sin Hlam
I force a smile, awkwardly raising my hand with a thumbs-up gesture.
Slaughter? Plagues? Yeah, I can only reach a sole definitive conclusion.
Yes. This is it. This is love. I've gained consciousness for what, a few minutes? And I've already found the meaning of my life—
Concentrate! Even the pimp guy has more self-respect!
I slap my face. Again.
The sounds ring in my ears.
The woman of my lif— the woman giggles like a bitch, laughing at me while pointing at the tip of her pointy horn. Jokes on you, I'm into that shi—
A cherry book comes into existence. On its back cover sets an onyx moon and on its front carves a sun of the same gloss.
The book opens before her with countless empty pages, dusted and ancient.
So, she's the strongest? From the rainbowhead's ridiculous expressions, I can tell.
It's also possible he's deceiving us by his acting and that the size of the orb doesn't actually matter. But, for one, the rainbowhead looks fucking stupid, his intelligence at best matching the age you'd guess from his childish appearance.
Also, isn't there a saying that good things come in large packages?
I hope we make great allies. Forget about love. I never had any luck with it anyway. It's not like I ever had good luck with anything in particular.
Talking about luck…
I gaze at The Great Dao, hovering a foot away from me.
Come on, give me something good, wouldya? Eternity, destiny, rebirth—you get it. Something good. Please. Please…?
I would pray for luck if I could. It's moments like these that make me wish I were a believer.
Wrath Sin Chandra
Wrath? Well, that explains many things…
Chandra? Is that my name? Oh The Great Dao, bless this humble Chandra of yours with the power to withstand the many tribulations.
I look at it menacingly.
It hovers above me menacingly, looking down into my existence.
My intuition tells me, "Look, look, you're fucked at best."
To my surprise, The Great Dao farts a blue orb very similar to the time pathway fragment, not only in color but also in size.
The Fragment of the Luck Pathway
Luck? Guess I got lucky. In every conceivable way.
The fragment rushes and protrudes from the top lid of my left eye. It burns.
I feel warmth, my body recomposing in ways unbeknownst to me.
My nails lengthen, hardening and sharpening into claws, while my hair grows black, with occasional crimson strands reaching my shoulders.
Three horns are forming, turning backward at an extreme angle in a wide curve, goatlike or even ramlike. Two from the sides and one from the center.
Inside, I can feel my intuition sharpening further. I see the world in different lights. Not just the present but also fragments of the past and the future are present before me.
Is this how fortune tellers feel?
However, rather than fortune, what I'm instinctually inclined to feel is misfortune.
Louder and louder, the cries inside of me shrill and reintensify. I'm emitting a cold, sharp malice, my mind clouded by the pervasive desire to inflict suffering onto others.
To kill, to torture, to enslave. The desire to destroy, to spread dread, and I'm enamored by it.
This is not normal. Not human. How pathetic of me to let them affect my mind.
Anger issues are one thing, but this—this is insufferable. My mind is dictated by me and me alone. Not others. I can't let foreign desires control me.
The Archdemon of Luck,
The Lord of Devils,
Wrath Sin Chandra
Killing, torturing, or inflicting pain upon others in any capacity—I don't care. I never did. There was only me and those I treasured, and then there was the rest of the world.
However, now there's only me.
I don't remember those others. I don't even remember why I treasured those others.
Then, what does that make of me? Am I not just a… monster? An empty shell?
I don't have any goals in life. I don't have any pursuits in life. Rather, slight disappointment with the world and with me. Myself. Why so? How so?
Perhaps the key to understanding myself lies therein. Not without, but within. Inside of me.
Yes, if I remain oblivious to myself, the desires will one day inevitably prevail over me.
Then I won't know why I kill. I won't know why I live. I'll know nothing, living as a walking dead. With no self, no intent, no thought, and no thorough understanding.
The circular box with a kaleidoscope of colors and symbols disrupts my reflection by eventuating before me.
Tripartite Mandala
What the hell is this? What do I even do with it? It's like Pandora's box. You open it, and you either get the world's riches or straight up die.
Doesn't help that it looks like the real deal from the myths. Wait… what myths?
How do I remember that?
I can even remember the cost of living in modern Hong Kong, yet I can't reckon the face of anyone I knew.
The blonde drums the table, cheering. I look at her with a nod of approval.
Forget about the suffering and setbacks; what matters is that I have the potential to obtain the power to dye the world into my coloration.
Only the powerful have the privilege to decide whether to spare or kill, to die or live.
As such, I'll first need to guarantee my strength.
Yet, to my surprise and terror, healthy laughs of the rainbowhead pierce through the fog.
"Hahahaha!"
Immediately, I get a terrible premonition.
"I haven't witnessed anyone get that in all the previous iterations!"
What went wrong?
"With this, the first phase is concluded," he says funnily, his shoulders shaking and cheeks flush. "Exactly this time after a year, the Walpurgis Night will commence, where you'll compete amongst yourselves to recruit as many Demon Lords as you can into your faction."
"Before that, you must raise your respective dungeons, resisting the constant onslaught of people and monsters alike." He raises a hand to wipe away the tears of laughter.
"Some may even die in the process."
He looks at me with a smug face.
"That's all. Figure out the rest by yourselves."
The space fractures in the center once more, and The Great Dao leaves.
The next moment, various portals of varying colors appear on each throne belonging to an Archdemon.
The first to leave is the Pride Sin.
Without hesitation, the Envy Sin and the Greed Sin follow.
Sloth Sin lingers her gaze on me, sighing in exasperation and following suit.
Lust Sin sends the rainbowhead a kiss and winks suggestively, buckling back and teleporting.
Only the blonde and I remain beside the rainbowhead.
"What?" he asks.
The blonde points to her mouth.
"Fine, speak, tell what you will," the rainbowhead tiredly points at her, unsealing her voice.
"No cakes for you. I'll feed you your coc—" Before she can finish her words, she's forcefully plunged into the portal.
"And you?" the rainbowhead asks, pointing at me. "Must you also show your colors before departing?"
"What is wrong with what I got?" I ask with a questioning face, forcefully suppressing the anger welling within me.
"Oh?" The rainbowhead smiles, condescension flashing in his eyes. "Do you remember the gifts you've received?"
"Yes. The Hero's Curse and The Reverse Plot Armor—"
I still. It can't be…
His smile deepens. "For the sake of balance, among a few other curses, the Demon Lords have their luck halved. You realize now, don't you?"
I gulp, my throat dry.
He continues, "The Luck Pathway… Perhaps among all the other fragments you could get…"
"Luck is the unluckiest," I finish.
"Bingo!" He points with both fingers. "You're unusually smart for Wrath. Truly an exception among exceptions. Hahahaha!"
"Hahahahahahaha!" I, too, laugh.
The rainbowhead is the first to cease his laughs. "What's so funny?"
"You tell me," I say, raising my palm. "Because it's a sin to be wrathful at the world. Who can control fate? One can only plow its rivers."
"A strange one," he says, clasping his hands.
"A dumb one," I deadpan, pointing at his twitching expression.
Then everything goes dark.
Darkness so pure not a single ray of light can reach the bottomless pit of malice within.
Until I'm greeted by a tall green creature with shark teeth as sharp as the sword attempting on my life, held in their thin hand.
I should've known better than to spew shit at a deity…
Then with a dart I spring to the side and thrust my arm out and down at the tall creature.
Just when my claws are about to pierce his guts and he is about to drown in despair at his inevitable doom vivid from the fear in his mad eyes a speeding arrow creeps its way toward my shoulder.
I barely dodge by backing away.
"Gunter! Be careful!" cries ring in the cold. "The dungeon boss seems to be unclassified! We don't know of his powers!"
A squawk. Then silence.
A staredown.
We size each other up.
Tattooed and scarred abrim.
A toothy grin.
And an even wider hook-nose.
And a greenish and rough skin.
Pointed and long ears just like his arms that are thin yet as muscular as they can get.
A goblin?
More like an ogre and a goblin banged and had a child then 'Hooray!' they shouted and 'Gunter!' they called this very abomination before me and called it a day.
Gunter— he jumps at me— the tip pointed at my heart.
How crude.
I can see where he's aiming. So I dodge. Tighten my fingers. Then punch.
Yet—
Accelerate |E|
He dodges. He shifts. He switches to a horizontal slash. And slashes. All in an instant.
Fuck—
Blood spurts.
Accelerate |E|
He thrusts his shiny blade toward my heart before the blood can even fall. Before I can even process the pain in its entirety.
I dodge this time. To the left. Though barely.
An arrow pierces my chest.
Paralyze |E|
"Got him!"
Shock. Despair. And—
Accelerate |E|
Here he comes.
I try to dodge—
Shackle |F|
Something grabs at my feet.
Shit—
Gunter pierces my heart before I know it.
My body splays onto the floor as my skull cracks. Blood. Blood everywhere. Pain. Pain anywhere. My head–mmy–my hea-he-ha… Ha— HAHAHAHA
…
"He almost got me there," says Gunter, turning to look at the individual who approaches from afar.
"Thanks, Estia."
Estia lowers her bow, puffing her cheeks. "You'll get killed with such recklessness."
Her autumn hair sways, falling past her red eyes and flushed, pointy ears as she stops before Gunter, looking up at him.
An elf?
Gunter stares past the elf. "You too, human. If you didn't shackle him, it could've gotten troublesome."
"I have a name, you know?" insists the woman, approaching with slender steps.
With amber hair and triple folds on her robe, the trim of her cape hangs like pleats. Her leggings circle downward from left and right, intertwining.
A human indeed.
"To think there'd be a lesser demon at such a dungeon."
She adjusts her purplish pointy hat with one hand and presses a magical book against her flat chest with the other.
Just the three of them? Gunter, his elven bitch, and a woman.
I look at the vaulted ceiling through the vast space. The moonlight barely streams through its cracks, fissures which are covered by decay and neglect.
It smells funny; of my blood and the moist stone. I can barely breathe without hitching in this humidity. The moss on the floor tickles my bare body.
"Should we sell or absorb the dungeon core?" asks the elven bitch. "You risked your life there, and we wouldn't have come to this dungeon on our way back were it not for your suggestion. I wouldn't mind if you took it, Gunter."
I tilt my head to the left and glance at the shining orb. Crimson orb. It's hovering above a pedestal, calling to me. Is that what's keeping me alive? The dungeon core?
My body begins to glow red.
The Devil's Wrath |E|*
"In all fairness, we wouldn't have found it if Miss Wizard didn't detect it. She found it the very moment the dungeon formed." Gunter catches his breath and runs a hand through his iron-colored, spiky hair, which stands upward and slightly outward. "Do you mind if I do?"
The woman shakes her head hesitantly. "You did the most job, so it's fine by me too. You can absorb the orb."
The three come to a tacit agreement.
"We can still earn a lot by selling the demon's corpse—" Until the elven bitch pales in terror.
"Huh? What's happe—"
"BEHI—!"
Late, bitch.
I hug Gunter dearly, tenderly clasping my right hand on his heart over his shoulder, my left hand on his chin over his neck.
He gasps in shock.
Empower |E|
He strikes his elbow to my lungs with a maddening force. I cough in a fit of blood, my insides turning upside down, churning.
Yet I don't let go.
Shackle |F|
Luminescent blue ropes tie my hands, invisible weights.
Yet it's nothing.
I screw his head like a rusted bolt. It strips and snaps. The shackles, the resistance, the life.
He dies in an instant, his neck twisted and broken.
I use his body as a shield to defend against the oncoming elf.
Her knife pierces into Gunter's stomach.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Without losing momentum, I pierce through the corpse and lunge at the elf, pulling her to the floor while plucking her eyes with my claws.
"ARGHHHH—!"
I lift my hand, downing it in a punch. Her nose cracks.
"Hahaha…"
I strike, and strike, and strike.
We roll and roll before my grip drives the life out of her.
Magic Missile |F+|
Magic Bullet |F|
Things hit my back. I don't give a fuck.
I strike, then strike, then strike, and strike, strike.
I grip her breasts, popping them.
Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood.
Blood flows, blood rivers, blood pools, more blood, even more bloooooooo—
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHQAHAZHAHAHAHAHR—"
I feel ecstatic, so much so that I bend and lick the bloodied innards, chewing on the brain matter.
Disgusting. I spit my meal. I then lick what I spat and devour the rest up until I can't help myself anymore.
AAhhhhhhh. HOW exhilarating. How, how, how—
I feel danger. I look back at the woman who rushes toward the red orb.
My orb? My precious little orb? She wants to absorb it! She wants to steal what's mine?!?!
I glance sideways at the corpse of a goblin lying in a pool of blood. Extending my hand, I tear his head off and catapult it at the girl.
She glances back with fright.
Magic Shield |F+|
A transparent blue shield breaks the very moment it forms.
The head crushes her, sending her crashing into the wall.
She lies in crumbles and doesn't budge an inch. Weak, bloodied.
No. No-no. NO NO NO NO NO
YOU CAN'T DIE! YOU CANNOT DIE!!!
TOO LITTLE SUFFERING! SHE JUST DIED? JUST DIED?! IT CAN'T BE NO IT CANNOT BE!
I want to kill her slowly. Watch her go from hopeful to despair. Watch her beg for forgiveness and cry blood.
I want to tear her body parts and feed them to her while tearing apart her other body parts.
I want to skin her alive and grill her innards with that magic of hers while chewing on her guts.
I want to stamp on her face and then stamp and tramp and once more stamp until she's inscribed to the floor in a pile of piss and snot.
"HEY!"
I extend my bloodied, veiny hand. Sharp, black-clawed, crimson-glowing. Pointing at her with a single finger.
"HEY SAY SOMETHING!"
Her pathetic state invokes anger in me.
"SURELY YOU DON'T THINK YOUR LIFE IS YOURS!"
I roar, the shrills grinding the walls in a very manifestation of wicked and tremendous power before cracking and upsurging like a throat sewn with razors.
"LIVE! COME BACK! LIVE TO DIE! IN PEACE AND PIECES!"
Limping, I stride toward her, my hands clenching, grinding the pretty face of an elf, the head of which I don't even remember snapping. I grind my teeth against the corpse's skull, crunching the bones and chewing on the veins.
Finally, I stand before her. I look at her miserable figure, a cracked forehead, bleeding ears, and teary eyes, and, shiver. Shiver? She shivers?
"So, you're alive…"
"So you're alive… and well…"
"Well."
"WELL WELL WELL"
She presses her hands hard against her ears, her shoulders trembling.
"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS"
Bending to my knees in excitement, I caress her cheeks. My claws leave scrapes, and blood flows. All I see is fear, and I like it. I love it. More. MORE. How can I make her even more miserable? For the sin of storming bullets and missiles onto my back, for the sin of daring to obstruct me, for the sin of existing.
Too, too many unforgivable sins.
I can't I CAAN'T. This is infuriating. TOO infuriating.
Against my will, my other hand moves on its own, about to come down on— dawn on the girl's dreadful face.
"Mommy…" she murmurs, her face covered in snot. "I'm sorry…"
No. Stop. STOP. She can't just die like that, right? She can't die without experiencing the pain so excruciating, so agonizing, that she begs for it like a starving orphan, only to be killed in anguish and horror.
"I'm so, so sorry…" she whispers under her breath, regret washing over her.
My hand falters before touching her face. It stops. The glowing red begins to pass off.
HAND WHY DID YOU STOP HAND WHY DID YOU STOP
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" I laugh crazily.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—" I keep laughing crazily.
"HAhAhhahaha… ha…hh" I cry crazily. Tears fall. My eyes. Why is that? My vision…
She finally opens her eyes, locking them with mine, determination there. Determination to accept her inevitable doom.
"Begone…" I shout at her, my spit falling all over her face.
Yet my hands don't move. My body doesn't move. I stay frozen.
Why is that?
Her eyes widen, looking at me incredulously.
Why is that? Why…
"What have I become?" I ask.
I strike right, ripping into the walls like it's nothing. The red wears off.
From the crack, I glimpse at the outside world. There's a blue orb in the skies, and the weather is clouded by clouds and fogs below.
It appears I'm inside some cathedral or citadel or castle of sorts. Judging from the height, I'm currently on the second floor.
There are chirps of unfamiliar birds zig-zagging through the faraway mountains and zip-zaps of crickets.
The light peers through the glassy auroras in the skies, tracing the walls in greens and purples and basking me in blue.
Blue. Her eyes are blue.
Bright. Brighter than the skies.
A pair of sapphires streaming the raining moonlight.
They drown in melancholy upstreaming from deep within the rivers of her heart.
The tears, crystal.
So clear. So innocent.
So pure not a single ray of malevolence or a drop of malice can be sought within.
They, flow, unceasingly, fast, unceasingly fast, as fast as the blood that ways its course through the protrusion on her broad forehead.
She sucks in quick breaths between sobs.
Her lips twist, and tremble.
Her throat gulps, and swallows, and hiccups, in wails.
Tears well well.
Her face scrunches. Her voice pitches, warbling. Her fists clench, but the tears, they keep coming. The cries burst and fade into sniffles yet burst yet again.
Did I… raise my hand to a kid?
I look back. There, at the mutilated corpses lying on the stone floor.
Did I… just eat… them?
I barely keep my composure, resisting the urge to vomit. Then I look at the girl, who's sneakily trying to reach for a book dropped a few steps away from her.
"Don't even think," I say calmly, staring holes through her.
She hitches and raises her hands into the air, surrendering.
"Good," I say, standing and extending my hand to her. "Can you somehow heal the protrusion on your head? The wound is quite dangerous if left untreated."
Her eyes don't move as she stares straight ahead in fright, my words going in one ear and out the other.
"Hey!" I call. "You wouldn't want to die like they did, now, do you?"
She finally snaps back into reality, blinking repeatedly, then scrubbing her tears away.
The kid stands on her own, shaking, then flailing to the ground once again, hitting her head on the floor once more.
Is this really the kid who stormed bullets through my back? Come to think of…
I look down at my heart. The once large hole is now merely a tiny gap, my skin stitching itself back with incredible regeneration. Although weak, I can hear my heartbeats.
I look at the girl, who has blues glowing out of her shaky palms, her hands a reach away from her forehead.
Heal |F+|
It heals, though slowly in comparison to the regeneration I possess.
Interesting. She's not using the book this time, then how can she perform her… sorcery?
Is the book required only for attack spells? I want to ask, yet instead, I calmly watch her. The girl is clearly shaken, understandably so.
I did beat the living shit out of her, and beat the life out of her friends…
I feel bad. Not about the killing. That I'm accustomed to. What I feel bad about is my disgusting thoughts accompanied by actions. I let the strange forces take hold of me, and I relished them.
It did save my life, but at what cost?
If I didn't stop in time, what kind of unspeakable deeds would I commit against this kid?
It might sound presumptuous and hypocritical after depriving two lives and grinding their skin against my teeth. But no, I'm just racist. Why would I give a shit about goblins and elves? I've lived as a human, and I'm a human at heart.
Yes, I'm a hypocrite. But who isn't, really? I have yet to develop sympathy for the extraterrestrial beings. For now, they're just like animals to me.
Mere food.
Food?
I slap my face. There's someone else thinking for me. These thoughts aren't mine. Rather, they've been implanted into my mind by some forces. It doesn't help that I don't remember much of my past life.
So, essentially, I have no identity.
Who am I really? A human? A demon? Both?
"Umm…" The girl finally speaks. "You can… speak?"
"Are you fucking blind?!" I shout at her. Fuck, I didn't mean to shout that! "Are you fucking deaf?!" No! That's not it! I didn't mean to shout altogether!
She shivers, bowing her head. "Please forgive me, oh Great Demon!"
"What the fuck is with the Great Demon thing?" I ask, frowning.
"Umm… Are you not?"
"Do I look like I have a fucking clue?!" I shout at her. I didn't mean to be this loud. Calm down; it's just a kid.
Her shivers intensify. She freezes, speechless.
Her eyes accidentally fall on the corpse of the elf, and she swells up, and bloats.
Then she bends over, and throws up.
Fucking hell. I can't have a normal discussion with this moron.
Yes, let's just be patient and tread calmly. It's just a kid, better give her some room for breathing.
"If you pull any funny shit once more, I'm tearing apart your arm!"
No, not like that! Not just an arm—
She attempts to close her mouth, yet instead pukes more.
That's it, I'm killing this bi—
NO!
Lord give me patience, because if you give me strength, I'm gonna kill this bi—
I breathe in and out. In and out. Patience is a virtue. I must cultivate it. I must be patient. I, must be patient. Come on, inner peace. I don't have all day.
All things are difficult before they become easy. Have patience. Okay.
Breathe… calmly… in… and… out…
In… and out… in… and out.
I'm calm.
"You finished, bitch?! Don't test my patience!"
She backs away instinctually, leaning against the wall, her hands clasped tight, terror washing over her.
"Good," I tell her, nodding my head. "First, it's fucking cold. Give me that robe of yours."
She shakes, watching in between my legs.
"That's inappropriate, kid."
Her eyes shoot up. She freezes momentarily, then takes her purplish robes with brownish linings off and hands them to me.
I take my time to wear it. Good. It barely covers. It'd be weird to lead a conversation with my goods hanging.
"How do I look?" I ask.
She nods her head, her teeth grinding from frost. Without the robe, she seems plainer, with a black and tight tunic and bruises over her neck.
"Speak, moron. Are you mute too?!"
Her legs teeter, her leggings barely warming her. Her arms shake, crossed together to cover herself. Whether from shame, fear, or cold or maybe everything altogether, I don't know. I don't care.
"Youuu looo-oo-kk fassci-nating-q-g."
"Bullshit! I was testing you," I shout, pointing at her. "Ingrain this into your mind. The first rule. That is, if you want to live. Don't ever lie to me! That's the first rule!"
"Tell me. The first rule. Is?!"
"Too-o-o no-ot everrr l-lie to Si-sir!"
"Don't stutter!"
"To no-o-o. To n-n-n." She blinks repeatedly, sobbing. "To not lie to Sir ever!"
"Good, good, good." I clap my hands, smiling. They say kids learn fast. It's true. I'm proud. "Now, tell me everything."
"Everything…?"
How stupid of me to praise her. Kids will remain dumb no matter. "Are you serious right now?!"
She looks at me questioningly.
Calm down… patience… tranquility… peace…
I aggressively remove the arrow hanging from the left side of my chest. Blood fountains. "DOES THIS GIVE ANY CLUES? PATIENCE HAS FUCKING LIMITS!"
"I WAKE THE FUCK UP AND THE NEXT THING I KNOW I GET A FILTHY FUCKING GOBLIN SHOVING ITSELF UP MY ASS LIKE IT'S TRYING TO LAY BOTH ITS STICK AND HOSE IN ME. THEN THAT BITCH DECIDES TO TOSS A FUCKING ARROW AT MY RIGHT LIKE SHE'S PLAYING FUCKING DARTS AND THEN `NOTHER MOTHERFUCKER COMES ALONG AND TRIES TO STAKE MY HEART LIKE I'M A FUCKING VAMPIRE AT A MIDNIGHT MASSSTAKING! YET AFTER ALL THIS SHIT YOU STAND THERE TALKING `BOUT SELLING MY FUCKING CORPSE LIKE I'M A GODDAMN CHRISTMAS TREE ON CLEARANCE SALE! WHILE I LAY HERE SLURPING UP MY OWN FUCKING BLOOD OFF THIS SHITSTAINED FLOOR LIKE I AIN'T GOT NO GODDAMN SENSE! WHAT THE FUCK AM I A THANKSGIVING TURKEY? A RABID DOG?"
I forcefully grab at her hair, dragging her along the floor toward the elven corpse so that I can feed her ears to her.
She covers her ears, trembling.
"DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOW YOU PERSONALLY FUCKED MORE HOLES INTO MY BODY THAN A NEWLYWED COUPLE ON THEIR FIRST FUCKFEST! I'VE SEEN PINCUSHIONS WITH BETTER INTEGRITY THAN THIS CLUSTERFUCK OF BONES I'M IN! MY BLOOD HAS BEEN SPILLED MORE TIMES THAN A MOTHERFUCKING BARTENDER DROPS DRINKS ON A FRIDAY NIGHT! YOU HAVE THE FUCKTONE OF AUDACITY TO STAND THERE TREMBLING LIKE A FUCKFACE CHIHUAHUA AND ACT LIKE I'M THE CRAZY FUCKHEAD?! FOR FUCK'S SAKE. ENOUGH FUCKERY. BITCH. I'LL SHOW YOU CRAZY!"
"I'm sowwyyyyyy—"
"NO YOU'RE NOT SORRY YER FUCKING STUPID"
I stand before the elven corpse, a smile creeping up my face.
Red glows appear on my body—
No!
With my other hand, I hit my face as hard as I can, blinding myself in my left eye.
"ARGHHHHHHH"
I drop the moron down and fall back, pressing hard on my bloodied eye.
"FUCK!"
Relax… Relax….
I'm relaxed… I'm relaxed… I'm relaxed…
Don't let the wrath consume you… Don't let the wrath…
"Hang in there!" she calls, coating my face in blue glows.
As if that's enough to curry a favor with me.
Well, at least better than bullets.
Oh, there's apparently a hole in my forehead? One of the previous bullets? Strange.
How did I even function with a hole in my head?
It's closing up, though. So all good, I guess.
Except that I'm blind in my left eye.
Surely this can heal. If my regeneration can heal and restore a brand-new heart in minutes, then that mustn't be that big of an ordeal?
Right? Right.
Even stranger than all, blinding myself somehow calmed me.
Did I develop masochistic tendencies by chance? It's painful, yet it's peaceful all the same.
What now, do I just walk with a peg up my butthole so I can feel constant pain?
"Umm… I'm almost out of mana…" she mutters.
Oh, is that why the moron didn't attack me? Smart girl. There's no way I'd have contained myself if she went through with it.
One more blue projectile and I'm projecting her face on the walls.
I watch her with my unblinded eye, making sure she doesn't run off and absorb the red orb. Something within me tells me the orb is the crux of my vitality, and without it, I'll wither.
Yet what I see on her face is… concern?
In quiet distress, her brows tense, and her lips quite quiver whilst her glassy eyes reflect the waning crucibles of blue magic still milling between her fingers, slipping and shifting, flitting and flickering, ghosting.
It's sincere. Sincere worry. Why? This is troublesome.
I wouldn't want to attack a woman. I wouldn't want to attack a child. I wouldn't want to attack a good-hearted person. I wouldn't want to attack someone who has the capacity to care…
It's just like with animals. It doesn't feel bad eating a cow because cows look fucking edible. But with dogs? Hell no. That just feels wrong. Unpalatable. I'd rather eat shit than dog stew.
Now, if the dog were a companion with whom I've spent time and forged memories, then that's no longer a stew but a shit to die for, even.
Attachment is a scary thing.
A thing is, dogs can't stab your back, while an intelligent being can use you and then throw you away the moment they get a chance. Attachment is not reciprocal.
Animals pursue emotions and instincts, some humans do too, most do. However, the truly intelligent ones pursue benefits. For one cannot rely on compassion and understanding. The sword and the pen, on the other hand, will always have one's back. They are always loyal. They are always understanding.
Gunter's hate was piercing, yet it didn't pierce. No matter how much the elf or the goblin hated me, no matter what emotions of me they had, and no matter what dreams they had for their future—
They're dead. Filthy, scorned upon, and mutilated. Why?
Because their sword wasn't sharp enough! Because the arrows weren't piercing enough!
Because the dreams and the emotions they had carried no weight behind them!
Because they dared stand against me! Someone stronger than them!
And did I not murder them, her friends?
Yes, the worry is sincere indeed. But it's not worry for me, or for her friends, for that matter.
Instead, she's worried about herself. That must be it.
A reasonable one, huh. So her cries weren't for the tragic death of her companions, but rather the fear of death and regret.
Come to think of it, while I was strangling the elf, instead of continuing to send bullets at me, she ran straight for the orb.
Very bright, especially for someone her age. Most kids her age wouldn't handle such stress so well.
She witnessed a bloodbath, a demon, and experienced immense physical pain.
And yet she stands.
Someone exceptional, I can tell.
Not yet, but there's a dormant potential lying within this weakling. Perhaps with time.
Oh. I blink, with my left eye, looking at her snotty face. I can see once more.
I stand, and as I do, she flinches.
"Don't fret," I say calmly.
I wave a hand in lazy reassurance. Easing my gaze. Smiling lightly.
"I was out of myself. I have no intention to kill you." Lies slip past without a hitch.
She looks at me with a questioning and yet even moreso terrified face. Yes, I don't believe what I said either, but it's nice to start a conversation without threats for once. Hah, a breath of fresh air.
"I do believe there is a slight misunderstanding between us, and that we are no enemies." I extend my hand in a greeting gesture. "The fault is fate wholly, and the circumstances were beyond us."
She stares at it, petrified. That's perfectly fine.
My smile only deepens, and my eyes ease further.
My ridiculous outfit, the purple magical girl robe coupled with brownish creases, only helps assert that no, I'm not a maniacal lunatic. That I'm not crazy, just insane.
The kid finally takes my hand, shaking. And I shake it, firmly grabbing hers.
"What is your name?" I ask her gently.
It takes her time to process a single simple question. "Umm…"
"Mari… Marisella."
"Wow." I clasp our hands with my other hand. "Such a beautiful name, Marisella. May I call you Mari? I like long names; they're my favorite. But it's quite hard to get off the tongue each time if you know what I mean."
She nods her head, albeit slowly.
"Very good." I make sure to talk calmly and gently with pauses in between, to alleviate some stress. "What does the name mean, I wonder."
I crease my brows as if in deep thought.
From a prey frozen in terror, I attempt to force her to a controlled social interaction, out of passive fear and into active engagement.
"Umm… it means 'star of the sea'. It's from Latin…"
"That is indeed a wondrous name!" I grab onto her shoulders, my eyes lit. Yet quickly let go.
"You see, Mari, I don't have many memories… I just awakened inside this building, and the very next thing I know, my life is in mortal danger…"
I lower my gaze, curling my lips downward. "I don't know much about the world, but I do know that somewhere, sometime in the past, I was once a human. I lived as a human. Once…"
"Yet the memories are gone… and I can't even control myself properly…" Tears fall. I brush them, avoiding her gaze entirely.
Acting was a necessary skill for a street rat, for a beggar crawling the streets. As such, I can easily shed tears or blood with no remorse or concern. It's ingrained in me.
My lips quiver. I bite into them, blood flowing. Swiping my eyes across the stone walls, I scrutinize them.
They seem to be part of the once prominent estate, old and deep, muted in browns and golds.
There's a sense of clandestine warmth but also, moreso, a sense of gothic creepiness.
As though in the shadows lie monsters.
"I-I…" I slump to the floor, my knees hitting the floor with a clack. "To think that I'd become a murderer!"
I shakily raise my palms, watching the blood on my black claws trickle down my fingers.
Raising my chin, I watch the domed ceiling too high above. As though pondering life. My crimes, my fate, and my sins. In reality, I'm just fucking around.
The room is almost circular, slightly squarish. It's large in size and width, the lights bathing through the dark curtains of small diamond windows above. The light is soft, atmospheric, low. The warmth spotlights the moss on the walls like a weak lamp or an extinguishing candle.
Finally, of course, at the center is a pedestal, or an altar of sorts, wherein hovers a crimson orb.
My thoughts break as the girl extends her hand to me.
"I think I know what's happening," she says, her blue eyes resolute.
Huh? The hell? Is this the same scrawny, scared, and pitiful figure I know?
"I'll help you regain your memories and guide you through this hell," she says.
I did want to seem vulnerable, but that was to have an open discussion.
To garner information, basically. This, this I didn't expect.
"So the millennial war has begun…" she whispers.
I stand on my own, regaining my composure.
I smile.
Mari, huh.
Am I pathetic for not wanting to kill her?
Am I pathetic for wanting to kill her?
"I do want to hear…" I say, my fists tightening. "To pay back to whoever did this to me."
She nods, pointing at me. "Very well. But before I tell you, you've asked for my name, haven't you? I wonder what yours is. Or do you not remember?"
Ha, look at this kid.
My name? It's—
My name…
What was my name? Chandra? No, that's the name bestowed to me by the bastards.
I had a name. A name my friends and family referred to me as.
I have a name.
"Chu…"
"Chu?" she asks, bewildered. "What a weird name."
"No, not that. Let me think…"
***, I wish I never fucked that filthy bitch! Is this all you could get for today?! That's not even enough for booze—
You want to sell your organs? What a weird kid. I don't know people who harvest around here. Though ***, you do have sleek looks now that I look. There might just be a demand for your body—
You— You didn't kill the old man, did you, ***? They'll be up your ass in days! They will kill you! They will kill your sister too! No, by her looks, it's worse! They'll either fuck her to death or enslave her! Why did you not think of the others?
"I do remember!" I shout. Fuck, didn't mean to.
"My name is—"
"Chan!"
I say proudly, brushing my nose.
Mari stares at me blankly, her lips pursing before twisting, wrinkling her nose like she tasted foul.
Do I really look that ridiculous? Does purple really not fit me at all?
"Umm…" she mutters, extending her hand once more. "Let's cooperate, Chan. Let's be friends. But let's have an equal grounding. Since I've promised that I won't lie to you, I ask that you promise me that you won't ever spontaneously kill me."
What am I, a madman? Hmph!
I grab her hand, forcing a smile. "I promise, Mari."
Around us form lights. They speak to me.
That I've successfully changed my fate.
This very day, I was meant to kill everyone, not just the two, but I abstained.
I can now see your future, Mari. I can clearly feel it.
"I don't know where to begin…" Her lips press together in quiet deliberation
Mira fingers her arms loosely, her other hand slipping up to her chin. "You really don't seem like you know a thing."
"Did you just call me stupid?" I tilt my head to the other side, smiling.
That head of hers, I suddenly feel like bashing it.
Maybe I'll get to know everything once I eat her brains.
"No no no—" Mira anxiously waves her hands in protest. "I'm just stating facts, you know?"
Sweats dripple down her cheeks.
"I did say I won't spontaneously kill you, but you're giving me reasons to reasonably kill you, my dear friend," I tell her with closed eyes.
"Don't let your sin consume you!" she yells at me, pointing a finger.
Huh? The hell is this kid—
"You feel it, no? As if someone is controlling your mind! As if you're not in your right mind, yes?" Her words flow fast like rivers like she's rushing to get through them before fear takes over. "The matter of fact is, it only gets worse. The more you sin, the sweeter it tastes, the easier it becomes, and the less you feel. And the less you feel, the less you care about repentance."
Annoying. Ha, to think that I'm getting lectured by a kid! This brat doesn't know her place—
"You'll lose yourself inside the deepest corners of the abyss, and the darkness will start to feel like home! You'll lose yourself and become a complete monster!"
The kid throws her arms wide, chest exposed, chin lifted, a grin stretching across.
"Come kill me then!" She laughs nervously, her actions defying her frightened eyes. "Show the world how weak you are!"
…
She steps forth, approaching me before standing before my eyes, looking up at me with a suicidal grin.
"What are you waiting for? Do it!"
Bold of her to assume I'm not going to take her on the offer.
I raise my hand, sharpening the claws.
"But know that you will remain a plaything for the deities!"
"Know that you cannot control your wretched self!"
"Know that you will continue to be miserable!"
"Until you drown in sin!"
"Until your last breath!"
She shouts and shouts.
Her shouts echo, and wane, yet remain as piercing.
Then silence. Silence shrouds the shadows.
I look at her as she looks at me, boldly.
"Hahaha…" I chuckle. I can't help myself. This kid… "and here I thought you were a scaredy cat. But you're willing to throw away your life so easily… I see…"
"I was the presumptuous one, wasn't I?" My face cracks, my eyes widen, and my lips curl upward without asking me. Laughter builds inside of me. Demonic, disgusting.
"All along, I was the one lacking in resolve, wasn't I?" My eyes sear, and my fingers twist, clench and crack. "You're right, I'm miserable."
I dawn my hand.
Mira shudders in shallow gasps, scared shitless.
Her fingers clutch the sleeves of her tunic.
Then I strike.
She closes her eyes, twitching.
I pierce my heart, grabbing onto the warmth and plucking it.
How painful. How agonizingly painful.
She opens them, her eyes. Gaping in relief, then horror.
"I feel better," I say calmly. "What? The worst is it stops regenerating and I die."
I sit on the cold floor in a lotus position, pointing opposite me.
"Please sit, Mira."
"That robe cost me a fortune…" she bickers in murmur after backing away. "What's wrong with you…"
Hmm… Nothing. Perhaps everything. I'm not certain. If I knew, I wouldn't be wrong. Who wants to be wrong?
"The dungeon core doesn't have an infinite mana reservoir, you know? That heart may as well not grow back," she points out.
"So?" I bite on it, munching. "I seem to be doing pretty fine without it."
"Umm… no…" she mutters. "I'm not an expert regarding demonology, but I'm pretty sure most beings die without a heart."
"Just sit," I tell her, running my eyes through her. "What's done is done. There's no point lamenting. You should've warned me."
"Could you…" she whispers, her voice breaking midway. "Can you put that away? It creeps me out…"
"But it fills my heart."
"You have no heart".
"Right." I throw my second heart to the back. Shit tastes bad anyway.
My heart, or well, the place where it's supposed to be, pains. Something grows there. It tickles, and sizzles.
She sits cross-legged, trying her best to avoid looking at my chest.
Mira raises three fingers.
"Let me start from the beginning, then…"
I listen to her attentively.
***
Before man came to be, before hope came to be, and before the universe came to be, there was complete and utter darkness.
In the dark roamed eldritch horrors.
Not much, if anything, is known about the beings of the void.
Nobody knows how they came to be, or what they were, really.
All that is known is that those fearsome entities aren't subjected to logic.
Just like the creation of the universe.
Just like the coming of the First Thresher—
The Adjudicator
The Progenitor
The King in Yellow
The First Thresher isolated the space from the void.
The First Thresher founded the stars and the planets.
The First Thresher blessed the land with life and light.
That was how the universe came to be.
Then came the Second Thresher.
The Architect
The Prismancer
The Tyrant in Blue
The Second Thresher established the laws and the limits.
The Second Thresher colored the world in vivid emotions.
The Second Thresher governed the forces and the conduct.
That was how the hope came to be.
Then came the Third Thresher.
The Anarchist
The Puppeteer
The Regent in Red
The Third Thresher opposed everything and everyone.
The Third Thresher sowed seeds of horror and evil.
The Third Thresher toyed with destiny and truth.
From ruin, man was shaped.
With man, sin was born.
Demons were born.
***
"Hold on—" I raise my hand in a stopping gesture. "That's an interesting tale and all, but I don't get what the point is. I'd rather you explain to me how magic works, what the dungeons are, and why the weird mechanical voice keeps popping in my head."
"You serious? You told me to explain everything, no?" Mira asks with an annoyed expression.
Son of a bitch. Wait, no. Daughter of a bitch.
"Can I?" she asks, raising a brow.
"Oh, of course!" I shout merrily, waving my hand like a bourgeoise. "Also do explain to me what you ate today for breakfast! Oh, also what your favorite bird is and why! Oh oh, also also what you saw in your dreams today! I'm sooo~ interested, bestie~"
I snatch the purplish pointy hat lying beside us and put it on, clasping my hands like a princess. "While we're at that, why not prepare some cookies and a steaming tea."
"BITCH!" I shout. "Just get to the magic part! Magic! Can't you see, I'm a magical demon girl! A fucking daemon! That's me!"
"Not a magical gundam! Not a priest or historian for fuck's sake. Kid, keep the cosmic fairy tales bullshit outta—"
Mira extends her arm and presses her right fingertip against my lips.
"You call me a kid, but you talk and shout like a baby, no?" She smiles widely, mockingly. Her eyes narrow with mischief. "Besides, how old are you to call me a kid? I may be short, but I'm sixteen, you know? We are probably of similar age, give or take a year or two.."
Alright. This is it. Fuck the principles. I'm skinning this kid alive—
Without notice, my hand shoots toward her hand.
I'll just settle with an arm this time.
No-no, maybe a finger. Yeah, cutting a finger seems a reasonable enough punishment.
I end up plucking a strand of her amber hair, and immediately chewing on it.
"Ouch!" she hitches in pain, her body shuddering. "You serious?!"
I have no idea, girly. This is the best self-restraint I've managed so far.
All I know is that you truly are a one-of-a-kind moron.
I mistook you for a smart kid, but no, you are just suicidal.
She really wants to nominate herself as a sacrificial lamb.
She really wants me to eliminate her from this life.
But I'm going to give her one more chance.
"I've lived exactly thrice as long as you have," I tell her. "So yes, you are a kid, and you should call me uncle."
"Uncle?" She sneers and squints, finding what I said ridiculous. "Bah… Then you call me a princess, yes!?"
I smile. "Of course, Princess Marisella!"
Her body shudders once more.
"Umm… No, nevermind… Just call me Mari…"
"I wouldn't dare, Prin-cess, Ma-ri-sel-la!" I bow with a hand clasped on my chest like a servant would.
Hahaha! How great it feels to bully children! Did I, perchance, develop sadistic tendencies, too? Just look at her disgusted expression!
"You… you're a creep, aren't you?" she whispers.
Two out of three women I've met have called me a creep.
The one who didn't call me a creep was a creep herself.
The Third Thresher didn't stand a chance against the other two in smarts or power.
Yet the third had no bottom line, nothing to protect and nothing to lose.
And it is a known fact that it is easier to destroy than to protect.
So the third did. The third turned hope into despair.
Trillions wailed, billions shrilled, more vanished.
The universe stood on end, about to perish.
Barely any life remained incorrupt.
Yet the creators withstood the destructor by combined force.
The two Threshers sacrificed themselves to eternally seal the third.
With the end of the three, came a new era. Eleven Pillars came to be.
Gray, The Pillar of Life, traversed the universe, settling on a rogue planet known as Nova.
She was mesmerized by its beauty, so much so that she envisioned life on it.
As she felt lonely.
As it'd be such a pity to hoard such beauty to her and herself alone.
Gray wanted to have children, and share the beauty of wonder and wander with them. Gray wanted listeners. She wanted listeners, and those listeners in turn would share the epics with the future generations.
Determined, she extended her hand to the skies. Roaring loudly,
"Let there be frost!"
The skies roared in turn. Storms gathered, the air chilled, and the clouds dusted.
The first goblin came to be.
Winter came.
Gray nodded, smiling coldly at her first child.
"Your name shall be Neptune!"
Neptune bowed deeply.
"I, Winter, The God of Storm and Conquest, shall carry the name Allmother has bestowed upon me!"
"Neptune! That's my name!"
Gray watched her right hand as it crumbled.
She sighed, gazing at the skies with her right eye. Whistling firmly,
"Let there be bloom!"
The skies whistled in turn. Auroras spread, the air warmed, and the trees blossomed.
The first angel came to be.
Spring came.
Gray nodded, smiling balmy at her second child.
"Your name shall be Mercury!"
Mercury bowed lightly.
"I, Spring, The God of Growth and Cognition, shall carry the name Allmother has bestowed upon me,"
"Mercury, that's my name,"
Gray blinked as the vision in her right eye vanished.
Determined, she extended her left hand to the skies. Shouting joyfully,
"Let there be warmth!"
The skies joyed in turn. Fruits sprouted, the air softened, and the animals sang.
The first beaster came to be.
Summer came.
Gray nodded, smiling brightly at her third child.
"Your name shall be Juno!"
Juno bowed repeatedly.
"I, Summer, The Goddess of Love and Commerce, shall carry the name Allmother has bestowed upon me—"
"Juno— That's my name~"
Gray watched her left hand as it crumbled.
She sighed, gazing at the skies with her left eye. Crying wistfully,
"Let there be rain!"
The skies cried in turn. Winds fluctuated, the air freshened, and the leaves fell.
The first elf came to be.
Autumn came.
Gray nodded, smiling longingly at her fourth child.
"Your name shall be Urania!"
Urania bowed reluctantly.
"I, Autumn, The Goddess of Freedom and Change, shall carry the name Allmother has bestowed upon me…"
"Urania. That's my name."
Gray blinked as the vision in her left eye vanished.
"Children, you are my arms and my eyes!"
"You have a sacred mission to fulfill!"
"And when the dark ages come,"
"I shall return to the lands as a mortal!"
Gray shot up to the skies, her body radiating.
A bright, orange star formed high above.
It exuded warmth, mana, life. The sun.
Her voice traversed the lands of Nova.
"Gray, The Pillar of Life!"
"The Keeper of Truth!"
"Primordial Seeker!"
"Mir! That's my name!"
"Those who wish to obtain eternal life and enter The Kingdom of Heaven shall bear my name!
"They shall worship me! Swear allegiance to my children—"
"Neptune, Winter, The God of Storm and Conquest
Mercury, Spring, The God of Growth and Cognition
Juno, Summer, The Goddess of Love and Commerce
Urania, Autumn, The Goddess of Freedom and Change"
"Those ungrateful ones who don't pray—"
"They shall burn in hell in eternal torment! In eternal damnation!"
***
"The fuck?!" I raise a hand, pointing above. "Who would put their faith in such a deity? She's threatening to burn you all in a hellfire!"
"You won't let me finish first, will you…" Mira mutters, burying her face in her hand. "Allmother gave life to all, so it only makes sense that she decides what to do with it, no?"
"Ahh, I see…" I wave, tilting my head. "Afterlife, after all, is the sweetest of promises. A foundation of every cult. The shitheads will hang themselves on a cross for a granule of hope if push comes to shove."
"Hope is the cruelest of things and the damndest dream." I run a hand through my dark hair, toying with the few scarlet strands and adjusting my supermagical supersexy hat.
"What about you, Princess? Do you believe in gods? Because if you do, you better not hang out with a demon."
I joke halfheartedly, yet she stills, in deep contemplation.
"It doesn't matter," she babbles.
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"Whether there is a god or gods or not, I don't intend to bow before such beings." Mira smiles lightly, glancing sideways, toying with her hair.
Ho… Would you look at that? "Why so?"
"Because we are no better than demons."
She locks her eyes with mine. Her lips tighten, while them, her eyes, pierce.
Wrath. I can see her wrath.
"Children starve to death while dregs who do nothing have everything."
Mira raises her right palm, glancing at it.
"Some are born as slaves, their lives meaningless from the beginning, their existence merely a charm to the eye of a beholder.
Then she raises her left palm, gazing at it.
"Others are born as nobles, predestined to shine brighter than the stars despite the lack of qualities to be one."
She tightens her hands into fists, her knuckles whitening.
"If there truly are gods, then they didn't inherit the eyes of Allmother as they seem to be blind, and they didn't inherit her arms as they seem to remain inactive, uncaring."
Sixteen? Wow. She's wiser than I am in my forties.
What was I when I was sixteen again? What did I do besides swallowing condoms again?
"You mentioned goblins, angels, beasters, and elves. What an assortment of races. But what about humans and demons?" I ask, tilting my head and mimicking her by crossing my arms. "Or is there even more? Fucki— meeting a mermaid has always been a long dream of mine."
"Each race has three species," she says, raising three fingers. "As for humans…"
"There are dark angels, light angels, and fallen angels. Most refer to fallen angels as humans. What separates us from other angels is mostly the birth rate, the short span of life, and the lack of wings," she mentions, lowering her fingers one by one.
"Umm… regarding demons…" Mira licks her finger, lightly biting on it. "I'll get to that, if you don't interrupt me…"
I point to Gunter, whose corpse lies with dead fish eyes a few steps away from us. "What species is he? Do all the goblins look this fucking scary?
"Have you seen a shark?" I ask. "I always thought the fuckers look scary, especially when they smile. But this guy beats them in that regard, and he's not even smiling!"
"You serious…?" She asks, raising a brow. "You really have the audacity to ask that… After killing the poor guy… I only met them for a week and we barely talked, so it's not like I have a mortal grudge against you… but showing disrespect to the dead is the lowest one can get. Besides, have you ever seen a cute corpse?"
"I don't think you'll look scary after I kill you," I tell her, smiling. Ahh, the urges. Maybe I'll calm down if I punch her once. Not twice. Just once.
Unbeknownst to me, my hand moves.
I strike.
Plucking a few of the strands of her hair and immediately tearing them apart.
"Ouch!" Mira shudders, her lips downing and quivering in anger. "Why hair?! You realize how painful that is!? Don't do that!"
Still better than body parts, organs, and skin.
"Move on," I say, waving.
She puffs her cheeks, a sole tear trickling down her eyes.
Ha, sometimes I forget I'm talking to a kid.
"Here, here." I pat her head. "Is the pain gone, Princess? Do you need a healing kiss on your temple?"
I slap her. On the right.
Wait, why did I slap her?
Then again. On the left.
Hahaha, it feels so good!
Then more—
She grabs my hand, her face seething like a kettle.
"Haha… I didn't mean to slap twice, only once—"
"Just shut up!" She breathes, in and out, tears welling. "Shut up and let me talk!"
Her face red, she crosses her arms, looking at me like I'm a piece of shit.
Well, why did I slap her, indeed? I should've just punched. Bet she wouldn't make such a face.
"Look," I force myself to say. "I'm sorry. I really am. But…"
"But?" she asks, her expression soothing.
"I really doubt this is gonna be the first and only time…"
Mira blinks blankly, looking at me like I'm not worth being a piece of shit.
"Just move on." Before I slam that annoying face of yours.
