Chapter 12: Nightmare

Red, cracked lines decorated the walls. Scarlet mist seeped from the fractured stone, a blanket of dread where no light shone. Darkness obscuring the rest of the path, leaving only a narrow sight.

Though the egress remained unseen, he saw the rest of the place clearly. A decrepit corridor, neglected by passing time. It was too familiar to him.

[This place...] His voice quivered, bewilderment presenting itself [... Is everything going to repeat again?]

When he first woke up, he found himself in a dreamy place. A room of precious metals and treasured cloth, where artworks presented themselves. And he sat upon a throne, adorned in the same manner.

And so he left.

After finishing the trials, he roused once more, with the scenery no longer intact. The previous grandeur disappeared, replaced by broken imagery. The same throne room, now broken-down.

So he left again.

Only to find a hallway. A hallway, which, despite its uncomely theme, bore the same dimensions as the labyrinth he once escaped from. The same hellish maze where a wall of water chased after him, threatening to engulf his very being.

And if the previous room were to be acknowledged, then the hallway itself had an obstacle awaiting him.

Just like the room before it.

[... Again...] He wanted to cry, and his voice stuttered in response. [... Why is it again?..]

The recent events already left him distraught, having no way to find out whether he’d be able to leave the accursed place. This prison of his, having no name at all.

All it had were these strange places, constructed to torture his very being. It left him in tatters. And now he felt hopeless. Weakened by his inability to escape his fate.

[No...] Having remembered the promise he made, he steeled himself. His resolve, though faltering, would be enough to carry him through. [It’s too early to give up...]

The possibility of the moon being the origin of his suffering came into light.

Ever since he arrived in this place, the moon spectated on him. It was present in every situation he confronted.

The blame on lay on it.

[Not my fault...]

A logical assumption in his eyes, no fault was his. He was devoid of any judgement that could be cast upon him, and there was no fault with himself.

[Not my fault at all...]

If the moon were to blame, then what did it need from him? The moon lay beyond his reach. His last attempt at felling it ended up in vain as he faded into nothing.

And it mocked him. To him, it was as unreachable as the distant stars in the sky. It was impossible.

[I-I’ll escape...]

Though he knew those words were useless, he continued to convince himself.

[I can do this...]

That everything would be better soon.

With his thoughts slightly disoriented, he continued to walk down the blackened path. The rubble grinding beneath his steps.

His breath heaved in every second of his stride, a product of his already exhausted state. His mind was in the same condition, already worn out by the ordeals from before.

Yet he advanced, seeking the end of the hall.

[I’ve been walking for an hour now...] he stopped in his tracks, clutching onto the silver blade in a tight grip.

His patience was already running thin.

When he began his long trek, he’d expected to find it within a few minutes or so. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes into an hour. No door nor portal, if this place were to be believed, showed itself to him. That he remained silent during the entire affair was already a surprise.

But alas, everything ended as the bubbling fury of his burst, making him vent out his displeasure.

[The fucking exit...]

A low growl came from the boy, as he displayed his ire towards the entire tirade

[WHERE THE FUCK IS IT!!!]

With his anger in full display, he bashed at the fractured walls, fragmented stone as the shrapnel of his response.

Scarlet haze rose from his charred form, highlighting the burnt skin that has yet to heal. With each strike, red smoke welled from him, engulfing the place until he could no longer see his surroundings.

[WHEREWHEREWHEREWHEREWHERE]

He repeated the words in a demented fashion, seeking an answer from the inanimate wall. The insanity of his actions invisible to him, as he uttered out his mad chant.

[WHEREISIT!!!]

As he descended further into madness, the speed in which he battered the wall grew faster.

Minute changes lining his clothes as red marks, appearing to be nothing more than veins of light. Despite the changes, he did not stop, only driving himself further into a delirious frenzy, uncaring of his body.

When the damage he sustained became too much, his body creaked. Bones, tendons, his entire body shook. The repercussions of his suicidal tendencies showed as he broke down, green blood flowing from his wounds.

As his arm could no longer bear the burden, it fractured, a repulsive view greeting the boy. At the sight of his arm, the boy stopped, noticing the color of his blood. Instead of screaming, he stared at the open wound in a daze.

[Why is it g-green?]

Ignorant of the pain, his confusion became apparent as he trembled at the sight. Not because of the agony, but simply because of the strange color his blood possessed.

[I thought it’s s-supposed to be red]

His past remained a mystery, though he still had a basic grasp on how the human body worked.

A pair of eyes to see. A mouth to speak his words. Ears with which to hear. A nose to smell the scenery. And last, his skin, which only felt the pain of his wounded self. And beneath the supposed skin, red blood flowed.

A few inconsistencies raised when he took his peculiar frame into account.

He could not feel his mouth move, nor did he know if he possessed one to begin with. Every time he spoke, the sound came from the black box he wore. An unknown factor being how it realized which words he wanted to speak out, and which ones remained as thoughts.

That was his first issue.

Second, this visor of his that was affixed to his head, sparing no effort to remain there. There were no gaps among his skin, as if it had melded with the metal object. A strange, black box in the annex as it imprisoned his head.

It rendered him incapable of identifying what lay beneath it.

As for his final conundrum, it was what shocked him the most. He already accepted the previous problems as a matter to be dismissed, issues that he could solve later when he had left this godforsaken place.

It shattered his beliefs when he discovered that his blood was green. Not red, as he’d formerly assumed.

[Am I not... human?] A striking realization, one that he’d acknowledged a long time ago. A possibility that existed when he solved the cipher. [That must be it...]

Once the boy had grasped his reality, everything became clear. His augmented form must have resulted from some horrid experiment, with him being the product. He must not be a human then.

To him, it became the final nail in the coffin. The so-called epiphany, as people would call it.

[T-That's not...] His visor flickered, with streaks of red that seemed to storm him, clouding his view. As he gained insight into himself, it brought out his hatred. [I-I'm still...]

|||

☽
[A human?]
[Don't make me laugh.]
[You're a monster.]
☽

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[WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!]

Vermilion lights became blinds that hid his form from view, torrential rain of red and green with which he shrouded himself.

Nothing made sense to him.

:::

[Passive Skill - Black Box]
+ [Active Skill - Regression]

:::

His thoughts clouded, as the luminous rain filled his sight, preventing him from seeing further than a few inches from himself.

Red streaks raced around him, looking for a way to escape their encampment.

It did not affect the boy at all despite the din and the racket, as he found himself in a perpetual daze, brought out by the light.

With the passing of minutes, the lights faded, dimming to obscurity, leaving only a single youth standing, his wounds no longer present.

He remained bewildered during the entire experience, an incomprehensible series of events. As he realized standing would do no good, he pondered over what had transpired.

As he did so, his visor lit up once more. The vertical slits, once red, returned to its former viridian state. With no mirror in hand, he was unaware of the changes.

He resumed his contemplation, not paying the alterations any attention.

[I seem to have calmed down now.]

He situated himself on the floor with his blade by his side, glossing over what he knew. His emotions were far too calm as of the moment, and with a clear mind was he allowed to think with.

[My thoughts are being subjected to an interferance, by an inhibitor perhaps?]

There had been 3 situations where his theorized inhibitor had activated themselves. The first time was when he found himself close to death battling the automaton.

His next experience occurred after a brief meltdown, where he lay waste to his surroundings.

And his current predicament. Where his predisposed humanity, his built-in image of himself, became compromised.

Yet all details pointed out that his identity was ambiguous. He still knew nothing about himself, other than the confirmation that he was the fallen king. It lacked far too many details.

[There’s also this strange knife that remained with me, hm.]

He grasped the blade, staring at the steel implement with close intent. And, with a flick of his thumb, it swung around his hand, a dextrous feat he somehow pulled off on his first attempt.

But it did not surprise him, instead more concerned about what secrets his blade hid. It somehow appeared out of thin air, during dire mental straits.

[Really, how quaint.]

His thoughts lead to a dead end, a pointless task that yielded no results. He really knew little, after all.

[Hmm...]

The boy had so many questions still unanswered. His knowledge limited to someone within the confines of the irregular walls that housed him.

The countless theories he’d thought up were indeed workable to him, though they were best left untouched. Until he could provide solid evidence for them, anyway.

Something he is incapable of doing so long as he remained within the crippled hallway.

[Oh well.] The lack of success regarding his mental endeavors led themselves visible, manifesting in his despondent voice. [I'll just continue with my sanity intact.]

The boy stood up, as he’d accomplished what needed to be done. He finished his introspection, instead diverting his focus towards another matter. One that awaited him for quite some time already. To leave the place where he stayed for over a week already.

The lack of any conversation partner caused him to go mad, and he wanted to remedy it by finding someone, anyone, that he could strike a meaningful conversation with.

[Since I’m rather calm now, I might as well take advantage of that.]

The strange calmness he felt wasn’t something immediately achievable, as manipulating one’s emotions can be an arduous task, with most people incapable of doing so.

[I can change my disposition at the drop of a hat, which is an unsettling matter.]

And, having weathered through an emotional meltdown, it further hinted at the peculiarity of his mind, although it was already obvious right from the beginning.

[Though I've also calmed down.]

With his mind now at ease, he resumed his trek towards the other side of the corridor. The boy found his rationality to be unprecedented, but it also benefitted him.

[Let’s go then.]

The same boring sight greeted him, red cracks dotting the wretched walls. Rubble strewn across the ground, reinforcing the corridor’s decrepit appearance.

And as a finishing touch, every debris he stepped on would fall apart, turning into what looked like ashes, scattering into the faint breeze he felt.

A breeze that gently grew stronger with each step he took.

[Hm?]

The boy took to a standstill, as he noticed the slight draft that passed through him. It was a faint, yet discernible draft of wind that passed through his front.

[There's wind here...]

The wind’s presence implied an origin point, said origin not being the cracks on the wall as they were too shallow, superficial gaps somewhat brighter than before. Instead, it implied a space from which the air would flow, most commonly from outside his current location.

It gave him a glimmer of hope.

With his faith rekindled, the boy walked faster, his expectations set high by the discovery of another area. The leaden concourse was close to an end.

He only needed to find the exit now. An expectation that conceivably wouldn’t end up in vain, like his previous efforts. If only he could confirm his success.

[The cracks are growing brighter.]

Though the darkness still crept in, he could see ahead as the fissures lit up the path. Tge road he walked seemed like lamplit boulevards, for he saw the path before him.

[Perhaps I'm getting closer now.]

Indeed, he was nearing his destination. The week-long journey he suffered through was close to achieving its denouement. A grand finale, awaiting the strange youth, as he strove on forth towards the end of his quest.

One problem remained, though, and it was a single obstacle. His mask of apathy vanished as he encountered the seemingly harmless hindrance, though he knew it to be false.

It was as dangerous as it came.

[Fuck!]

A certain object, one that he loathed with perfect honesty, made him curse aloud. With a hallway of its length, his words echoed around him.

[There’s another one of these fuckers around here!]

All the crooked lines, rifts between walls that glowed red, converging onto a single point. A lone object a few meters in height, towering before him.

And as for what it was... It was something that he’d vowed to destroy, as its very existence repulsed him, causing him to flare in anger. An object that caused him great harm during his stay inside the crumbling throne room.

And its identity was...

[I’ll respectfully ask you to go the fuck away from me, you wretched crystal!]

A boy swearing off a piece of rock transpired during the next few moments. While it was indeed hilarious, it did not seem that way for him.

[So fuck off!]

His casual remark confirmed what angered him very much.

An ebony stele, akin to smooth quartz, stood between him and his window towards freedom. It was the same crystal that imprisoned his arm for a considerable amount of time.

What stood beyond the geode, he couldn’t care less, he only wanted to leave the place. It was a simple desire achievable with a simple goal. Any miniscule details deserved to be fed to the pigs.

The prospect of him leaving, towards anywhere but here, had earned his excitement.

[Dear oh dear...]

He faced the abominable monolith, seeking to remove it as quickly as possible. With his blade aglow in a scarlet haze, he approached it.

[Whatever shall I do with you?]

He raised his arm and, with one swing of his knife, a sizeable chunk flew off, plummeting towards the soiled floor. Its effects were immediately visible to him, as the cracks grew dim, a result of damaging the source of their power.

This time, no fragments flew off, unlike his previous experience which stained him in bleeding wounds. Yet nothing happened, arousing his suspicions.

[Tch...]

His disappointment became clear in his actions, as he clicked his tongue in annoyance. How he did so without even moving his mouth was a mystery, but his displeasure was more than distinct.

[I would’ve preferred it if you peppered the hall instead.]

He knew he was talking to an inanimate object. That didn’t stop him from voicing out his frustrations to the crystal, which remained still, as he could feel it silently judging the boy’s actions.

[You know, like when you fucking turned me into a walking lump of coal?]

That silly thought only remained in his head, though he continued to lash at it. And, when he had finished his outburst, he stared at the monolith in stupefaction, realizing how it got such a reaction out of him.

[I talked with a door, and then a crystal...]

He realized what his actions implied. Suppose you saw a random person talking to an inanimate object. You could only form a single conjecture from the sight.

[Gosh, I think I'm crazy.]

That he was mad, and his self-inflicted achromacy had been dyed red and green by his emotions. There would be no other inference from the silly sight he had shown, as he continued to talk with what was lifeless.

[I’ll just destroy you.]

He resolved to remove the basis of his dilemma; that which caused him to mumble to himself. His strange habit was far too defiant to be eliminated.

[Maybe I’ll stop talking to myself when you’re done, hopefully.]

He slashed through the crystal, green arcs chasing the knife as he continued to cleave through the ebony stele.

It took him eight more strikes until he fully destroyed the geode, exposing an enormous gap behind it.

The crystal that seemed to power the lights shattered into 9 pieces, their energy no longer usable. The cracks lost their lamplit state, revealing black marks in their stead.

The air that blew through caused his clothes to flutter in the wind. A large shaft that seemed to lead outside.

[This better be the exit...]

He was already used to having his hopes crushed, and from his interpretation of what tje world saw of him, his uncertainty rose. This may be another false alarm, and that he would proceed to another trial.

[I’ll be pissed off if it isn’t.]

He walked forward, capricious and erratic, treading towards the tenebrous path. What lay beyond the burrows, his supposed exit, was a thing that he could only surmise.

He’d already established that this strange locality had a certain theme it followed, which could help him in inferring what he’d face next. Though if he ended up with nowhere to turn, then all was for naught.

He was the fallen king. This place was his prison, after all.

[A waking nightmare...] The words resonated with him, as its accurately described his every waking moment. [A horrible, waking nightmare...]

His impression of the place had already diminished, the former beauty that he saw had dissipated. Replaced by ghastly works. His delight could not be hidden, however.

[I’ll be free from it soon...]

A strange light, awaiting at the end of the tunnel. His departure now at hand. As he traversed its inner depths, he cackled.

[I really am unstable.]

Having noticed his unnatural behavior, he scoffed at himself. Of how he reacted to the various miseries that threw itself at him, he only laughed.

[Really, how entertaining...]