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Into Nothing
106 // Tetelestai

106 // Tetelestai

An eerie touch tickled Aleister’s skin and jolted him awake.

His eyes witnessed the pitch-blackness of night. The last thing he remembered was reading the spell book.

I must have fallen asleep at some point during, but where am I?

Snow piled up all around him. He stood up. It was obvious that either he was in a dream or dreamlike state, or something unspeakable happened to the world that he couldn’t remember. Not likely. Hopefully.

The snow that fell continued on as far as the eyes could see. All of it reminded him of one place in particular. He turned around.

There it was. The mountain.

However, something about it was different. It towered even further beyond. Reaching past the skies. Breaking through the horizon. Entering the heavens. Its presence and vibe were—otherworldly.

But one prominent question echoed in his mind. Why am I here?

Aleister knew it was the same mountain. He could sense its connection to him. But why was he here and not on the steps?

When the ethereal ravager attacked him and entered his mind, he was exactly where he left off. The pressure continued to pin him down while it sent the ravager to the base.

However, now, he stood an immeasurable distance away from the mountain. Exactly where he stood the first time he arrived here. With his information, he now had another question. What happened?

The forestry and harsh climate were wrong. The trees were no longer as dense. Instead, most of their leaves had long fallen off, leaving only the wooden husk as remains. The vivid mountain flowers lost all of their colour. He could hear no rushing of water, no rustling of the grass. The wind—didn’t blow. In fact, the more he focused, he realized that the snow wasn’t falling. Each snowflake—stuck in place. It was as if time froze everything. Except for him.

He could only speculate at what caused such a drastic change to the environment as he walked towards the mountain.

Is it the spellbook? Is that what changed everything?

It was the last thing he remembered. Or perhaps the alkemical aura Syn poured into him caused this change.

Aleister stopped in place.

Why am I walking towards the mountain? For answers? It didn’t give me any answers last time. It actually seems to have impeded my process. Even Mitre is a Weaver now. Yet here I am. Who knows what else this wasteland holds?

It never grew any closer as he traveled. Maybe searching for something else would be a waste of time. But he would never know if he didn’t try. He turned his back on the mountain. The cold sun became visible once again and walked towards it.

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Time passed. Or what he perceived as time did. There was nothing around that indicated such a notion.

He continued to walk until—the mountain. At the utmost edge of his vision, the top of the mountain reappeared. Aleister broke out into a sprint.

Is this entire place just one giant circle? An infinite loop?

The mountain continued to grow until it reach its previous size. He stopped and ran in a different direction entirely. Due to its gargantuan size, a part of it was still visible in his peripheral vision. However, as he continued straight, the mountain shifted locations and ended up in the middle of view once again. It didn’t appear as if he had a choice, so he ran towards it.

Its size never grew past its initial appearance, but Aleister never noticed himself getting any closer. The mountain continued to stand and dominate over him.

Aleister bit his lip and continued to run. His heart had never been so loud. Each beat reverberated throughout his entire body. Every single one of his breathes—thin. His bare feet blistered and eventually grew callused. His shins throbbed as, one by one, his muscle fibers tore each other apart. He wanted to give up. But he couldn’t. He still wanted—no. He needed the answer. This endless run had to stop at some point. It stopped last time. Nevertheless, it frustrated him.

This was his mind. It was his space. He should command everything here. From the mountain to the sun to trees to the snow. So why was it that all of it was out of his control? This world forced him to run towards the mountain. It forced a singular path of travel upon him. Am I really unable to control my fate? Even in my mind?

Not long after, he once more arrived at the base of the mountain. The same set of stairs as last time. He walked towards them, but before taking the first step, he hesitated.

This is my own world. Of my own creation. Then why do I have to climb these steps? To prove my worth? Why do I need to prove myself to the mountain? If anything, the mountain needs to show its value to him. Why did it deserve to exist within him?

A red static clogged Aleister’s vision. Without any further thought, he clenched his fist and punched the mountain. A punch filled with all of his pent up rage and frustration.

But nothing happened.

So he punched again.

And again.

And again.

Blood spattered.

Bones shattered.

But nothing happened.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Each punch killed the flesh of his hands. Each punch shattered the bones in his fist.

All of this is in my head, right? Worse comes to worst and I die. This will just be another bad dream when I wake up.

This may all have been in his head, but the pain? The pain was still real. He couldn’t go on anymore. It was too much.

If I let some stupid mountain block my path, how far can I get? How can I take revenge on my family? How can I be someone Mitre looks up to? How can I prove to Gilmore and Ryellia that they didn’t make a mistake taking me in? How can I fulfill Syn’s contract? How can I prove that she also didn’t make a mistake? My escapes, the children that died, the slavers I killed, Delilah’s sacrifice—were they all in vain?

No. They weren’t. They can’t. I won’t let them. I won’t disappoint them.

Maybe this mountain in front of me doesn’t exist. Maybe it’s a manifestation of my own doubts and fears. Or maybe it is a literal, physical barrier. It doesn’t matter. Because—because...

With all the remaining strength in his body, from the bottom of his heart, from the depths of soul, Aleister let out a primal, guttural scream. “Because it ends tonight!” And punched.

The world shattered.

He remembered. This was what he witnessed. This was it.

The cessation of existence—death.

A red static obfuscated his vision and thoughts earlier, but in this moment, his vision and mind were clear.

Aleister opened his eyes.