“Hey, man. Why are we rushing down these stairs again?”
“I-It’s like I said. Palola came down here, and we need to hurry up and help her fight this evil cloaked guy.”
“Yeah, I get that, but why did I need to come? And why did I have to leave behind Pegasus? And who in the hell is Palola, man?”
“T-That’s just what Palola told me to do. And I really have no way of describing her except weird.”
“Real descriptive, man.”
The two, Shibo and Aamil, finally made it to the dungeon’s chamber. Oddly, it was Aamil who was desperately gasping for air while Shibo seemed to be doing just fine. One could argue it was the adrenaline keeping him going, but whose to really say.
With a single whiff of the chamber’s stench, Aamil’s already exhausted body was on the verge of passing out. She covered her nose and mouth with both hands, trying her hardest to block out the odor. Shibo on the other hand, seemed almost used to it, looking around as they continued forward.
“Augh! What the heck is that smell, man?!”
“It’s semen.” Shibo answered, his voice oddly calm as he scanned the surroundings.
“Huh? What’s ‘semen’?”
Shibo pointed her to their left, gesturing to a cell with one of the only men without a tube connected to their body. Aamil had never seen a man’s dick and having been surrounded by women for practically all her life, she was unfamiliar with the term. But with one look she realized instantly that the man sitting within that cell had been sentenced to a fate much worse than death. The stench was one thing, but with the scene before her, she’d reached her brink, collapsing to her knees and vomiting profusely.
(Where the hell is Palola. I can barely see anything around here.)
It was then that Shibo heard the feint sound of grinding glass, like a sharp object carving at it. He squinted a bit, and saw the cloaked man, drawing some sort of sketch in the air, and called out to him, once again causing him to mess up his image, shattering it to fragments.
The cloaked man clicked his tongue, annoyed at someone interrupting him for the second time.
“How do you people keep doing that… What do you want?”
(This is gonna end up bad for me but screw it...) Shibo thought, his fist clenched under a dark miasma.
“MISFORUNE BLAST!!” He shouted, releasing a wave of dark mist as he punched the air.
For a moment, the cloaked man hesitated to counter, positioning to take a step forward. He was unsure of the attack’s nature, but all the same he was given an opportunity to “defend himself”. And yet, as if his instincts were howling at him, he hesitated, before vanishing in thin air. Though he hadn’t noticed, the blast managed to nick the tip of his shoe.
Following the cloaked man’s sudden retreat, Shibo hurried to the cell he believed housed Akuma and Tenshi. However, as he stepped forward, his foot slipped on a slick pool of liquid, and his gaze fell upon a small girl sprawled on the cold floor. Her hair flowed like dark silk, and her eyes resembled the last flickers of autumn leaves, while her attire was nothing short of wild. She was a girl he met only recently, but even still she already managed to carve a special place in his heart. Tears swelled in his eyes as he sank to the floor in utter defeat. Yet again, his misfortune managed to ensnare another innocent victim.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Was she Palola?” Aamil asked from behind, finally regaining her composure.
Shibo could only nod, as the words just couldn’t find their way out.
“It’s strange, but she looks just like the chief.”
Just then, a chilling aura enveloped them, drawing their attention to a new figure looming from behind. This cloaked man was different -a lot larger, both in width and length.
Instinctively, Aamil swung her backhand toward him in defense.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you…” the new cloaked figure warned, his tone flat and stoic. “…You see… I have a habit of turning what I touch…”
*Shatter!
“…into gold.”
With a swift motion, he reached out, and in an instant, Aamil’s forearm transformed into solid gold, only to shatter into countless shards.
Stunned, Shibo and Aamil could only watch in disbelief as the fragments scattered around them. Seizing the moment, the cloaked man extended his hand toward Aamil’s head, exploiting the moment that could qualify him for “self-defense”. Yet, his advance was suddenly halted. To be precise, it was blocked by a teenage boy.
As Aamil gazed at the boy’s protective back, she couldn’t help but think how large it seemed, as if it were a mountain. On the other hand, the cloaked man was overcome with confusion, unable to comprehend how the boy hadn’t turned to gold. And then there were his eyes, unsettling and void of life, as if the very light had been drained away from them. Two crimson orbs that resembled those of a machine.
“Target identified…” the teenage boy said, his voice drenched with an artificial cadence. “…Cult of Salomon, a denizen of the first world. Detecting violations of codes 00451 and 10234. The first world resident has unlawfully traversed time and attempted to alter destiny. Calculating punishment… Calculation complete.”
As those words left his lips, a massive library in the form of a dome with shelves hugged around its edge materialized around them, ensnaring them all within. Even the first cloaked man, who had vanished after Shibo’s misfortune blast, was drawn back into this confinement, alongside the lifeless form of Palola.
“It can’t be…” The second cloaked man muttered to himself. “…The ability to control other stories… This the power of the Akashic Records… But he didn’t have this power in the first world.”
“Punishment… Termination from both worlds.”
The two cloaked figures began to glow with an ominous light as two dark books with shimmering golden pages emerged from their gut, gradually fading into nothingness. They understood the gravity of their situation instantly, for this was the ability to rewrite another's fate, the ability to control another’s story.
Yet, just then, the teenage boy's eyes flickered with renewed determination. Blood gushed from his ears and eyes as he battled the overwhelming urge to reduce the cloaked figures’ stories to nothing.
“Get the hell out of… MY HEAD!!” he bellowed, the force of his voice causing blood to pool beneath him. His vision blurred into a red haze, and he could barely hear his own voice.
Above him, an angelic child pleaded, questioning why Akuma would reject him.
“What are you doing? Don’t you see they’re out to kill you?! They came here with the sole purpose of revenge over something you didn’t even do!”
Being a divine item of God, the Akashic Record’s “price to pay” forced Akuma to relive the sensations of his past traumas with every word, deepening his rejection of the innocent figure.
“SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!! Why don’t you do something useful and send their stories to your library! If I can’t send them to heaven, then I can at least keep them here until I reclaim heaven.”
“I-If I do that then you’ll have end up going through all the pain and suffering they went through! If you’re not careful, you could die! Are you really going to risk your mind breaking over a random girl and murderers after your life?!”
“Yes! I am!”
Akuma collapsed to his knees, summoning every ounce of strength to reverse his previous actions, restoring the two stories.
Initially, the Akashic Records planned on destroying the cloaked figures’ stories, thus removing them from existence. But now, Akuma opted to simply move their stories to his own library that he’d created with the power of the Akashic Records -a temporary measure as he could no longer send people to heaven. This of course included the departed Palola -though her situation was a bit different.
Unlike the two cloaked figures, she had yet to check out her story from the Library of Yggdrasil, meaning the Akashic Records would have to check it out himself, using Akuma’s mind as a medium. That is what this temporary library is -a medium that acts as a gateway between the Library of Yggdrasil and the world of Yggdrasil itself. And by keeping Palola’s story within this space, Akuma would ensure she wouldn’t be reincarnated or sent to heaven.
Such was the power of the first divine item created by God. The only con is that similar to how every story within the library of Yggdrasil is connected to the librarian, every story kept within this world would be connected to Akuma.
In a sense, he’d be both Akuma and Palola, as well as the two cloaked figures -experiencing both the pain and joy they all went through in life.
Alas, this was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make if it meant saving the people of this world.