I observe my sisters.

One gets clipped by a worm's flailing tail and spirals downward in a tumble. Hel's strings snap taut as they catch her mid-fall and lift her back into the fray. She immediately dives back into the battle with vigor.

They move with even greater daring akin to a tornado that whirls upon the worms with the passage of time.

What is my role in all this? Why was I even born to begin with?

What is the meaning of my existence? What is true? No, what is truth itself?

Many questions form in my head. Is there any way to know? Does she know it?

My dark wings unfurl with a sweep as I float into the air. I hover above the chaos and absorb every detail. My fellows fight with their gauntlets and talons flashing in the red mist of the cavern. I watch them strike and maneuver through the brew.

Most work together with their coordinated efforts to overwhelm the monsters. Hel's role in this battle is unquestionably of the utmost significance. His invisible strings guide and protect them. Such subtle interventions ensure that none of them fall to their enemies.

Life is unfair.

They, too, make mistakes—many, in fact. So why is it me who pays, yet they roam scot-free? Why is it solely me who gets punished? Perhaps I’m too weak and, as such, undeserving of forgiveness.

But why do my sisters not doubt the mother even a little bit?

Thinking of her, where is she? The fog is interfering with my sight. Isn’t it dangerous to leave her alone?

‘Mister, do you not think she might be in danger?’ I ask via telepathy.

‘Well, you don’t have to worry about such matters. Just make sure to preserve your life. You should also lower yourself to the ground,’ Hel’s smooth voice resounds in my mind.

‘Why?’ I ask again.

‘You’ll know once the time comes.’ He glances at me with his ever-watchful eyes hidden under dark glasses.

My wings fold as I settle on the ground. Hel had spoken to me way back when my mother was distributing gauntlets. Mother doesn’t know about his skill according to his words. I wonder how. So I ask, ‘How did you keep it a secret?’

‘What?’

‘This thing you call a telepathy where we speak with our minds. You’ve previously said she can see through our essences,’ I clarify.

Hel lingers for a moment before voicing, ‘Well, my ability Mindstring is surprisingly versatile. I’ve tried using it on her the very moment I got here. But the more I tried, the more soul damage I got. As a familiar, I cannot attack her. Even while trying to clasp my hand against her mouth, the damage was tenfold reflected on me.’

‘So how?’

‘I hid some of its features from her. As its name suggests, its primary use is to control the mind. What she sees is different from what it is. I also snatched the map while she was in a trance.’ Hel pauses for a moment to concentrate on saving a succub. ‘The reason we can communicate is because I’ve connected our minds with this ability of mine.’

Connected our minds? Does this mean he can now control me whenever he pleases? I can’t ask it directly. ‘So why did you connect our minds?’

‘My soul is linked to hers. You don’t have a soul, but your essence is also linked to her soul. We cannot kill or, much less, attack her. But luckily she has a Contract skill. Our roles will be reversed if we succeed in making a contract with her.’

That still doesn’t answer my question. ‘But why do you tell me? Are you not risking by doing all this?’

‘In what way?’ he questions.

I pause for a moment. Then, a while. But I eventually voice. ‘What if I betray you and tell her everything?’

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‘Will you?’

I shake my head. ‘No.’

‘Then it’s fine. It is okay if you doubt me.’ He smiles. ‘I trust you.’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’ He shrugs his shoulders as he decimates another worm.

Is there such a thing as an unconventional trust? ‘Why me?’

‘You doubted her. That is enough of a reason. You might be nothing but a plaything for your mother, but I see it differently. People like her hate defiance. They want all the world under their feet. They crush all who doubt them. Trust me, I would know.’ Hel looked ahead. ‘You can think. You know what is good and bad for you. If you believe siding with your mother is for the better, go ahead. I doubt that you will, though.’

‘But… aren’t I useless?’ I ask him as my gaze lingers on the ground. Why would he involve himself in all this? Even my own mother cast me aside.

‘Don’t think such things!’ His voice pierces through my head. ‘No one is useless in this world! You hear me!?’

Huh? ‘I do understa—’

‘No! You don’t! Everyone can make a difference. Every life has a meaning and a value!’

I look at him. Hel looks back at me piercingly. He sends the strings whipping through the mist. The worms barely have any time to react before their bodies are cleanly severed in two. The pieces collapse in ichor.

He does all that while looking at me.

‘You’re useless only if you think you’re useless!’

I lower my head. ‘How come?’

‘What do you live for? Nothing makes life worth living except yourself. You determine your own worth! You create your own meaning! Not me! Not them! And definitely not her!’ His voice echoes in my head.

I nod my head. Neither do I agree with him. But there are some truths in between his words. ‘Mister, are you not underestimating her?’ I ask him. His plan might seem perfectly laid out at first—it makes me believe it’s bound to fail. It seems too easy.

Hel shakes his head. ‘Monika is not just whimsical but truly a crazy person.’ He points his finger toward a worm. ‘Do you know how I create these strings?’

How is this related to my question in any way? ‘No,’ I tell him. Obviously, no. I was just born.

‘First, there is reality, Life Energy.

Second, there is an understanding of self, Spiritual Energy.

Finally, there is the knowledge of reality. That is what we call Elemental Energy.’

So he says. I don’t understand any of it.

‘There is an understanding of consciousness projected onto reality's aspects. We can project aspects of ourselves onto things that are imagined and don't actually exist in an attempt to create meaning and provide an answer to fill a gap in comprehension,’ Hel rambles on and on. ‘It is first derived from reality itself. There is knowledge of reality within the power of consciousness. We can then create and invent any fantasy in our inner reality of consciousness.’

What does it all mean..?

‘Monika has a strong sense of self, which would make her a great Spiritualist. Spiritualists usually fight in close range, with either their bodies or weapons. But…’ Hel pauses for a moment. ‘She has an even greater talent for being an Elementalist. No, just calling it a talent is not enough. She is a genius seen once in a millennia.’

‘What makes one a great Elementalist?’ I ask.

‘I’m getting there,’ he voices. ‘If to become a strong Spiritualist you’d need a strong sense of self, then, to become a strong Elementalist, strength of mind.’

‘Intelligence?’ I ponder.

‘No, not quite so.’ Hel briefly slices through another worm in close proximity. ‘It’s how fast you can think. The more you think, the more you imagine. Monika’s mind races. It’s as if there are several consciousnesses inside of her. It’s that fast.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Well, it’s by how fast her body absorbs elements around her. Usually, with her E-graded affinity, she’d take hours to refill the spiritual energy in her C- Soul. But she absorbs the elements so fast that it’s as if she has a rank 2, ugh, a D rank affinity. You do understand what the grades are after looking at your status, don’t you?’ he inquires.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘But not now,’ he voices.

‘What do you mean?’

I can see his brows knit behind those glasses. ‘Right now, she doesn’t think.’

Huh? Doesn’t think? What does that mean? ‘But if she doesn’t think, that would mean she cannot restore her spiritual energy as of the moment,’ I whisper in my mind.

‘Exactly. That’s how I know she doesn’t think. Do you not get it? She is crazy in all the meanings of the word. What we’re fighting against is not an archdemon but just a monster,’ Hel remarks.

BPAAAAAA

Suddenly, a deafening burst bursts through the cavern—a thunderous bang reverberating off the rocky walls and sending shockwaves through the humid brew—a colossal detonation that shakes the very foundations of the cave as the noise rolls through the space in a bone-rattling wave with the echo of it bouncing off every surface and amplifying the intensity of the blast while filling the area with a sense of impending doom and chaos.

And chaos it came.

“FUCKING SHIT!”