"I, Akira Ferrovane, will show you the pure subjective reality. What the world looks like without the reinforcement of its Objective counterpart."

A heavy silence hung atop the tower for a while before it devolved into chaos as if those words had lit a match and set the crowd on fire. Vern looked at Lucian, and the guy had a serious expression on his face.

Then a girl from that group of annoying bitches suddenly shouted, "Hey, I don't consent to this! What if something goes wrong? What if—"

The blindfolded prince interjected with a cold tone, "Then you can leave. Vigil has no need for you."

"…Huh? What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one that invited us here! You think I wanted to come here so you can tell me your sob story and guilt me into working for you? What a joke! I showed you respect because of the crown. You're nothing but an exiled prince. Know your place!"

The captains standing all the way to the back broke out in chuckles, and the 'exiled' prince tilted his head before responding, "I suppose your families don't trust you enough to tell you the truth, huh? Well, then, let me fill you in on what's going on."

"When I proposed the creation of Vigil to our Emperor, my suggested plan was to select talented individuals from the masses and help them become Observers that will fight for the cause."

A disdainful smirk replaced his affable smile, and he continued, "It was the Chancellor and Archons of your families that pleaded to our Emperor to not let 'commoners' be in charge of saving the city."

"So please, I beg of you, don't listen to this exiled prince and sit this one out. It would mean I can bargain for spots for more talented individuals in the next meeting," he said, chuckling with mirth.

But the face of that girl only grew nastier at those remarks, and her companions were just as furious. One of them forced through her teeth, "Okay, keep lying to yourself. Don't come crying on the Garmen family's doorsteps when you can't find a Luck attuned Viewpoint in those lowborn."

Captain Akira raised his one hand and glanced back, "Arthur, please escort these ladies out of here. Make sure any requests for aid from the Garmen family are denied in the future."

"Yes sir." replied a tall man with bandages on his arms standing to one side of the long array of captains. And when he moved, he made no sound. None at all.

As he walked towards the group of girls, he pointed at them, "You dare look down on the Garmen family—," and suddenly, their annoying screeches became silenced. They looked about themselves, confused by their loss of speech, and the tall man soon 'escorted' them back to the elevator room without giving them a chance to cause any further ruckus.

Vern was only happy he wouldn't have to work with people like this. But before things became too heated in light of this political drama, the blindfolded captain clapped.

"Anyone else that is too scared can leave right now. If you can't confront the simple reality of our situation, you won't be much use to the vigil anyway." The words were as cold as ice, and it was clear they brook no argument.

Vern looked around and quickly noticed many unsure faces, but no one really moved. It seemed the gravity of the situation was slowly becoming clear to everyone. Even the brother who tried to persuade his sister to leave gritted his teeth and stood firm.

When no one else complained, the blindfolded captain nodded, "Good."

"Captains. Take positions, and defend the Observers!"

At his command, the set of men and women standing behind him walked out and encircled the candidates, settling equally far away from each other. Ambrose's sister stood a little behind Vern while Captain Shinsei manned the other end.

Captain Akira sighed, "Now, before we do this, let me give all of you a couple of warnings. Do NOT look behind you. Do NOT look at the sky. Do NOT speak in any language. And most important of all, do NOT focus on anything for too long."

Vern furrowed his brows, unsure of what to make of this. And before he could ponder it further, the crowd destabilized again. Lucian gripped his fist tighter while the girl next to him sheathed her double-edged knives and took a deep breath. Some hyperventilated, while others finally couldn't take it and ran out of the encirclement to the elevator room.

No one stopped them, and the captains didn't seem to care. Many others looked conflicted, but in a few more seconds, solemn expressions replaced their unsure ones. Vern, on the other hand, felt a weird mix of excitement and fear.

If he understood it right, they were about to see a world that wasn't reinforced by Objectivity. That was to say, it would be an amalgamation of all the twisted imaginations of city dwellers as well as a certain amount of global fears. Just what would it look like?

However, he was far more curious about those esoteric warnings. Why should he not look back? What was wrong with speaking? And why not look up at the sky? Was it because of the gash, or was it something else?

All very interesting questions, but he had no plans of tempting fate. He was going to follow those warnings to the letter. So he took off his glasses and slid them into their velvet dwelling.

The prince pointed at all the captains and added, "My colleagues will ensure your bodies don't lose their objectivity and will defend you from other inherent dangers of that realm. As long as you keep a level head and heed my warnings, it will be over before you know it."

The crowd hesitantly nodded, and a smile bloomed on the prince's face. He took both his hands and pressed them on his heart, and his lips moved. Two words resonated in the air, "Gaze Binding," and the very next instant, a black glow spilled from behind that blindfold. Then, before Vern knew what hit him, the scenery changed.

A sense of profound disquiet swept over him as he surveyed the altered surroundings. The floor beneath him took on a bony texture, and its shape resembled that of a rib of some titanic being. White rotten flesh pervaded the gaps between the skeleton's bones, its foul smell threatening to make his gut churn.

But Vern quickly shifted his focus, making sure not to fixate on one aspect of this reality longer than necessary. His heart raced as faint, anguished cries and unchecked screams filled the air, emitting from everywhere.

The faces of the people around him were in constant flux, features melting and reshaping into expressions of joy, sorrow, and terror. Their bodies contorted, elongating and twisting in impossible ways as if each person was trapped in their own personal nightmare.

Luckily, the captains maintained their form even in this distorted reality, allowing him to reorient a little.

He shifted his gaze beyond the rotting parapet of the skeletal tower, and the sight sent his heart thumping uncontrollably. Thousands upon thousands, if not a million of carcasses floated above the streets—impaled by pikes and stakes originating from blister-like tombstones.

The unclear features and churning flesh of the cadavers being gnawed at by the spikes made his skin crawl. But the sight soon felt…mesmerizing, and he quickly realized it was the side effect of having fixated on it a bit too long. So, he bit his tongue and forced himself to focus past all of them without a delay.

The previously tall spires twisted and turned, extending upwards infinitely, and Vern dared not follow them to their ends up in the sky. Heavy red fog permeated every street, nook, and cranny, vague outlines emerging from them.

The otherwise elegant and ornate structure of the buildings lost their shapes, becoming lurid amalgamations of grotesque materials that curled, twisted, and churned into sinister abominations. Their mere sight sent a shiver down his spine.

A putrid blend of all that was uncanny—yellow, red, and white, flowed through the maze-like city in place of water. It was a mixture he had no wish of further identifying. Trees bled shadows, and their branches reached out all over the world like fingers extending into one's very soul.

That's when he heard a voice, "This…is what our reality would become without Objectivity," and the words reminded him to breathe. Still, they did nothing to calm his overstimulated mind.

He wanted to look back at Captain Akira, to just stare at the man until he could get his nerves back in control, but what if focusing on him for too long was against the warnings, too?

So he gritted his teeth and kept shifting his sight from one ghastly vista to another, ensuring not to linger on any of them for too long. Then, in his peripheral, he noticed Captain Akira pointing in one direction before saying, "Slowly turn your eyes towards—"

AGHHHHH

A piercing scream originated right next to Vern, drowning the captain's words, but the Captain simply amplified his voice and carried on, "—towards the crescent bay,"

When Vern reflexively looked to his side, his gaze fell on a fellow candidate, whose unclear shape was letting out a piercing shriek, her face stretched disproportionately as her sinuous arms coiled around her own neck.

He couldn't even be sure if this was real or not. But the bone-piercing scream frayed his nerves, overlaying upon the already saturated cries and screeches from the surroundings.

Still, he recalled Captain Akira's last words and tore his gaze and mind away from the banshee-like wails to focus on Crescent Bay, which was about four bridges away on the outer edge of the city's baleful silhouette.

The moment he perceived what the captain pointed at, his breath hitched in his throat, and he barely trapped the scream that threatened to burst out of him.

"AGHHHH"

"SAVE MEE"

"Let me go!!!"

"STOP THIS!!"

However, his fellow candidates couldn't manage to do the same and screamed out one after another. A cacophony of wails assaulted his ears, but he was too stunned to do anything about it.

His mouth went dry, and he swallowed as he stared at that gigantic hand far in the distance. Five bony fingers jutted out of the putrid rivers, constricting the district of Crescent Bay within it. Bloody liquid oozed out of each of its joints and gravitated towards the sky.

However, an oval shape peeked through the gap of the fingers, and some hair-like substance outlined humanoid features on it that moved. It was so far away he couldn't be sure, but the rows of teeth were moving.

It said…

It said…..

'shred me scratch me eat me crush me'

How could he even make these words out? A cold, numbing terror gripped him, freezing him in place, and his knees felt weak.

'stifle me drown me shatter me maim me'

A sense of impending doom settled over with each word, and he found it impossible to tear his eyes away. Fuck. He tried and tried, but every time his iris was about to change its target, the thing pulled it towards itself!

But how!?

'rend me drown me thrash me burn me cut me bleed me fester me scar—'

AGHHH!!

All sorts of pain began claiming him, and every word he heard became his reality. He was losing it. He was fucking losing it!

Not caring about any future repercussions, he considered his own body for the shortest of a second, and…Stability Inducement

His devolving senses became sharp for an instant, and he snatched the chance to rend his eyes away from that thing.

But the moment he did so, the shape hidden beyond the fingers snapped open its bloodshot eyes, teeth made of hairs peeking from within its pupils. But Vern entirely ignored the terrifying thing and focused only on Captain Akira's voice.

"This is what the minds of our populace conjure when they're not affirmed by Objectivity. Imagine living in this nightmare. Envision your friends and families slowly losing their grip on reality, turning into inhabitants of this realm."

The words helped, but his skin prickled with fear, every hair standing on its end. He could feel it. That thing was staring right at him. And not just that, another feeling of being watched originated from his back—gnawing at his slim sense of rationality.

TIP

A sense of panic fluttered in his chest as he felt the one behind it getting closer. And closer.

TAP

He wanted to look back. He had to look back! How would he prepare for it if he didn't understand it?

No. no. no. no. He shook his head from side to side. He wasn't going to violate another warning, no matter what. He refocused on the sounds he had been intentionally ignoring until now—the terrified screams of his fellow candidates. It helped drown the steps behind him.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps, but he kept pushing through. He felt exposed and vulnerable, like prey in the sights of a predator, but Captain Akira was saying something. He should listen to that instead. He should. Yes.

Then, Captain turned back towards the crowd and asked another time, "So tell me, dear Observers. Do you understand the gravity of our situation?"

"AGHHHHHHHHHH"

"ZXKORAXX"

"YGSHTOHTU"

"YES!" shouted Vern with all his might, hoping that would get the man to put an end to this.

"KRAXHENZANSEN"

TIP

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and a deep, unsettling chill coursed through him. His gaze darted frantically, trying not to remain at one thing for too long, but his mind couldn't really drown out that sound anymore.

TAP

A sense of helplessness washed over him, and he wished to use Stability Inducement only to find that trying to do so caused his eyes to slow down and be pulled back towards the face behind the fingers. A lump formed in his throat, making it harder to breathe.

"rend me drown me thrash me burn me tell me" came a whisper right in his ears with a bloodcurdling timbre. Right after that, something touched his back, and his nerves exploded.

Holding back all his screaming impulses, he instead limped forward on the bony rib of a floor, barely avoiding the shapes of his fellow candidates.

TIP TAP TIP TAP TIP TAP

The steps chased him without a moment's delay, and before he could even think about it, they were upon him. His eyes widened, the whites showing in stark terror as something pushed his neck to one side—forcing him to look back.

He wanted to scream. But that seemed to do nothing for his colleagues, so he used his arm to push back, only to feel a cold touch that scraped across his skin and numbed it instantly.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck

His heart thumped with explosive rhythms as he kept pushing forward, only to barely move an inch, the reverse force threatening to rend his neck in half.

And then it happened. The force twisted his neck around, and a—
.
.
.
Light.
.
.
.
A woman with a tricorn hat and a face cover stared back at him. Her pure white locks that spilled out of the hat tried their best to hide her sharp eyes, but they failed miserably.

He soon felt the grip on his head loosen, and she backed away, her hands falling to either side.

But that question left his mind instantly as he stood amidst tens of men and women who were lying down on the ground—convulsing, trembling, and shaking violently.

He was the only candidate standing.