... Noah awakens from slumber, his eyes taking in the unaltered reality of his room. An idle scratch to his head, a lurch from the mattress, and then bare feet meeting the cold floor. An odd scent teases his nostrils, a trace of the unusual that beckons him toward the bed's underbelly. His body tapers to the floor as he indulges curiosity, and there it is— another hatch.

Noah "Fuck. Here we go. I'm... I'm ready."

With a slight shimmy, he snakes under and gently lifts the hatch. An expanse of undulating verdant hills comes into view. His brow creases, questioning the naturalness of the green— grass or dirt? The walls are bathed in a whisper of Lime. He ingests the last of his lingering doubts, surrendering to the allure of the room below.

In a blink, he's in— his clothes, however, are not. Not a shred remains on him, not even the fabric that once covered his jaw.

Noah "W-W-WHAT THE?! Where are my clothes?!"

Noah scans his surroundings; his clothes remain elusive. Poised to use bandages from his inventory to cover his private part— his gaze lands on an all too familiar group. Faces from the past semester of school, classmates, erupt into laughter at his form. A spark of realization flickers within him...

Noah "Aw, that's the theme of this room. It's Shame! No... it's more specific. Right? Like embarrassment. Nice try! Because I don't feel shame! I have been lying to my friends for like eight years!"

The bandages return to their place as he sets off, trudging over the green-carpeted hills. He feels the eyes of his classmates bore into his back, their laughter echoing in the vast room. Yet he pushes forward, making a beeline for the room's edge. All he encounters is a small, brown sliver of leather protruding from the wall. He tugs it free — it's his boot. Well, one of them at least. The search for its partner is still on.

Noah "If one boot is here, maybe the other one is on the opposite wall."

Balancing himself into the boot, Noah attempts to sprint towards the opposite wall, only to be betrayed by his own misjudged rhythm. He tumbles, the jeers of his peers intensifying around him. He shrugs off their mockery, shaking off his boot and continuing on his bare soles.

Blocking his path now are two faces from his past — a former crush, and his tormentor. Her laughter echoes in his ears, while his adversary snaps a photograph of his exposure. However, Noah isn't cowed, he lunges, kicking the bully with barefoot fury.

His face morphs grotesquely into a mass of viscous green slime. Noah's foot is ensnared in this substance, which pulses yellow and then— explodes!

Noah "Fuck! I thought these guys are harmless!"

He stares down in abject horror; not just his foot, but a segment of his lower leg has vanished, leaving his bone exposed. His world spins as his lifeblood drains away. Desperate, Noah retrieves a syringe from his inventory, hastily injecting flesh onto the gaping wound— but it’s not enough. Insults from his former crush and peers turn into a distasteful parade of insults, and he is filled with slight shame.

Just then, a spray of green sparks dances over his mutilated leg, and he watches in amazement as flesh miraculously reweaves itself over his exposed bone.

Noah "Embarrassment, the desire to fix oneself to look better in another's eyes. Wow, maybe a little bit of shame from time to time can make a difference."

His voice resonates with newfound confidence, his form adorned with a constant fall of light-blue petals.

Every sinew within him feels honed and responsive. Emboldened, Noah shoots past the heckling crowd towards the opposite wall. A familiar piece of brown leather beckons him— it's his other boot. With both firmly on, he pivots to face the irked crowd, his former crush leading the charge in their zombie-like pursuit.

Noah "Oh fuck! Shit! Where are the rest of my clothes?! Dammit!"

With countless hills behind him, his clothing remains a mystery. An ax is summoned from his inventory, flung at a high position on the approaching wall. Leaping with strength, Noah lands atop the ax handle, the remaining petals swirling into nothingness around him. He peeks below— his classmates are a scrambling, frantic mob, falling just short of reaching him.

He savors this moment of peace, his gaze sweeping over the verdant landscape, hunting for something— anything— but to no avail. The search continues.

Noah "Shit! No dice! I can't stay up here forever! Those fuckers will find a way to get here! So Think! What place I haven't checked yet? Wait... the ceiling! Of course!"

Craning his neck upwards, he spots a quartet of familiar items — his tiger-print underwear, a white t-shirt, worn Adidas track pants, and his trusty hoodie, all arranged in a square formation. A smile flickers on his face, a mixture of relief and amusement. Yet the question of retrieval lingers in his mind. He mulls over his options until he stumbles upon an interesting plan, an idea so intriguing that a dark aura cloaks him at its mere thought. He draws a deep breath and gazes downward.

Noah "Noah. You crazy son of a gun! This is madness! But... I see any other way to get them. Alright... Here I go!"

Noah plunges back toward the ground. Curling into himself, he positions his torso to take the brunt of the impact. He collides with a former classmate, a wave of strange slime coating his chest.

An intense surge of warmth rockets through him, propelling him skyward. But to his surprise — he's unscathed?

Noah "Yahoo! Thank you, Kanji! For this Nano defense thingy! Now I get my shit!"

As he ascends, his hand springs out, snatching his tiger-print underwear from their high perch. He quickly wears them on mid-fall. Adopting his earlier posture, he once again crash-lands onto a classmate, the rebound shooting him skyward. His fingers close around his tattered t-shirt and track pants. While he dons his pants in free-fall, he tucks away his shirt. Peering below, he witnesses a disturbing sight — the crowd merging with his old crush. Panic holds him. With a frantic shake of his leg, he alters his trajectory, landing once again on the ax handle.

Noah "Shit! Now what?! I don't think I can't survive touching that thing. I could try to feel fear and it can protect me a little... wait what if I worry about myself? Would that work?"

Visions of a lethal encounter with the monstrous amalgamation cloud Noah's mind. His worry now focused on himself as he leaps downward, secretly hoping for a miraculous cushion of turtle shells to break his fall. Yet, nothing happens. Contact is made, triggering a catastrophic explosion that sears his limbs and lower torso. The force hurls him upwards, penetrating the ceiling along with his hoodie. Noah finds himself floating in an enigmatic black void.

A colossal eyeball materializes before him, sprouting pairs of cartilaginous tendrils.

One wraps around his injured form, imbuing him with restorative energy, while the other retrieves a phone from the abyss. It communicates in a bizarre, otherworldly dialect, incomprehensible to most.

Yet Noah, teetering on the edge of consciousness, discerns its words, "The challenger has broken out of bounds. Don't worry, my lord! I will send him to the next room right away!".

...

Regaining consciousness, Noah bolts upright to find himself amidst a volcanic wasteland. The landscape is a desolate tableau of scorched trees, volcanic ash, molten rocks, and oozing lava. He stores his hoodie in his inventory and seeks refuge behind a massive, smoldering boulder.

It's strangely cool to touch, but contact with it stirs an uncontrollable surge of anger within him.

Noah "Woah! What the hell?! That is very trippy! Hmm... maybe I can use this if I want to have anger on the go."

A stone catches Noah's eye, bearing the same odd characteristics as the boulder— typical in appearance, but with a network of red cracks. Picking it up sends another stronger surge of anger coursing through him. He tucks it away into his inventory. Cautiously peeking from behind his rocky shield, he observes multiple movements in the distance.

His eyes pick out ten distinct entities— a quartet of Cyclops-like beings, their reddish skin, solitary eye, and colossal charcoal clubs. Four dragon-like creatures follow, their bodies adorned with red scales and magma. But it's the final pair that sends a chill down Noah's spine— titanic beings almost reaching the ceiling. They brandish swords rivaling skyscrapers in size, appearing more than capable of decimating the other entities in a single stroke. Their bodies are encased in perpetually heated armor, their helmets devilishly styled with dual curved horns.

Witnessing the sight, Noah slinks back, lying flat on the ashen floor and drawing his thumb to his mouth.

Noah "How? How?! HOW CAN I BEAT THAT?! Now I just want to go home dammit!... Maybe they have a weakness. This tower might be brutal but difficulty doesn't just spike like that. Yes, I need to find the weakness!"

A flurry of blue petals encircles Noah, gravitating towards his eyes as he focuses on his tough adversaries. A door materializes between the legs of one of the towering knights — that's the goal. Keeping himself as inconspicuous as possible, he slithers stealthily from one smoldering boulder to the next charred tree, ever closer to the coalition of Dragons and Cyclops arguing in an unknown language.

Noah "Ok, these guys are distracted I just need to get through them and past those giant knight-looking monsters. Maybe if I dig there."

His hand reaches into his inventory, drawing forth his ax. A hearty swing at the ground results in a reverberating sonic boom. With a quick, terrified peek at the Cyclopes, Noah breathes a sigh of relief— their bickering continues unperturbed. His grip tightens around the ax handle, the weapon glowing red in response. An idea flashes across his mind. He pulls out the odd stone, the ax's aura intensifying upon contact. Gently, he lowers the blade onto the ground— it sinks in as though it were jelly. He tunnels underneath the clueless Cyclopes, emerging directly before one of the monolithic knights.

Noah "Okay, this is good! Thank you, weird stone! You know what! I'll give you a name. Maybe... I'll call you, Anger Stone. Now, I just need to open this door."

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Noah's hand stretches towards the door handle, only for his right hand to be cleaved off by a swift, brutal sword strike. Looking up, he sees one of the massive knights, sword raised high. A secondary swing sends Noah hurtling across the room. With a quick maneuver, he plants his ax in the ground, leveraging it to reduce the impact. A syringe surfaces from his inventory, regrowing his lost hand in an instant.

Noah "Shit. I have only four left. Fuck, how do I get past that?! Come on, if only I have some invisibility or something! Shit!... I have no choice but to fight them. Don't I?..."

Regaining his footing, Noah withdraws the ax, cupping his hands around his mouth. A roar, deep and resonant, echoes throughout the vast room. The sound draws the Cyclopes' attention, who engage in a brief exchange before dispatching one of their own to investigate the source of the disturbance.

Noah "Awesome! It's one v one! This makes things a lot easier! Bring it on! Big guy!"

With a commanding battle cry, Noah raises his ax high, the Cyclops mirroring his posture. Charging towards each other, Noah clutches his anger stone tightly.

As the Cyclops aims a swing for his head, Noah sidesteps, scampering up the creature's arm to its neck. His ax swings, barely puncturing the beast's crimson hide.

Noah "What?! Impossible! My ax was infused with anger-

Woah... a tremor courses through the Cyclops' skin, escalating into full-body convulsions as the creature doubles in size. A colossal hand captures Noah, throwing him into the ground with such force it creates a crater, a shockwave rippling through the room. His nano-defense protects him from the brunt of the impact, but the collision leaves him stunned.

Gazing upwards, he sees the Cyclops towering over him, its club raised menacingly. His ax comes up in a futile guard— the monstrous club crashes through, sending his ax spinning away and striking him directly in the chest. Yet, no damage is dealt, the creature's disappointment evident in its furrowed brow. It stomps the ground in frustration before launching another attack, this time aiming for Noah's head. His bandana deflects the blow, shattering the charcoal club into fragments. The Cyclops stares at its ruined weapon in despair, its cries resonating throughout the room. It begins to jump, its body growing redder and more radiant with each leap.

Noah "Oh fuck! Shit! I can't move! My ax I just need to get my damn ax-

The behemoth's fists rain down on Noah's chest, only to be deflected. Recovering his ax— the Cyclop leans in, a series of furious blows targeting his head. Just as the ninth punch is about to connect, Noah retaliates with an ax swing, slicing into the Cyclop's single, glassy eye. As the beast recoils in agony, Noah's grip tightens around the anger stone, a prickly red aura exploding around him.

Driven by newfound fury, his elbow strikes the ground, shattering it to form a cozy nook, just large enough for him to curl into. The blinded Cyclops, relying on its heightened senses, feels its way across the ground. Upon discovering the hole, it plunges a gigantic hand in, its jagged nails narrowly missing Noah's eyes.

Noah "Fuck. Shit. This is the worst day of my life. I have only one defense left on both my parts. I'm screwed... this is it for me. I'm so sorry... Sarah... No, I mustn't give up! I just need time to think! If anger doesn't work on them then something else can. But what? I have only one shot left and I better make it count. I'm not leaving until I have a plan!"

Days pass as Noah remains ensconced within the hollow. His thoughts are a maelstrom of chaos and confusion, compelling him to hurl the anger stone at the wall. Noticing an immediate sense of clearness in its absence, he retrieves the stone.

Noah "So you were the troublemaker! But I'm not mad at you. Thanks to you! I know what I must do! I have to get rid of the anger inside myself."

Determined, Noah dedicates several more days to devising his strategy, meditating under the veil of night and brainstorming by daylight. By the end of this period, his body is cloaked in a flurry of blue petals, transforming his figure into a moving silhouette of plant matter.

Noah "Ok. Not the appearance I want to have in this battle but beggars can't be choosers."

With a sharpening stone, Noah refines the edge of his ax and retrieves the stored chain from his inventory. He wraps it around his right forearm, tolerating the slight prickling sensation it induces. Emerging from his hideout, he plants a firm hand on the ground.

Noah "Nice! Superhero landing done! Now I need one of those dragons."

Observing a stray dragon sipping from a molten lava pool, Noah seizes the opportunity. With a swift leap, he lands on the beast's back. In its attempt to shake him off, Noah plunges his ax into its neck, securing his position with this improvised seat belt. He unhooks the chain from his arm, fashioning reins around the dragon's snout. A sharp tug elicits a painful roar, attracting the attention of the remaining dragons. A mischievous smirk spreads across Noah's face as he yanks the reins, urging his steed skyward.

Leading the pursuing dragons towards the colossal knights, he expertly drives amidst the swinging swords. Relying on his chest's deflection, he avoids one blade, while the other descends onto the unsuspecting dragons, ending their pursuit.

Noah "Yes! It fucking worked! Now, for those Cyclops bastards!"

Noah's familiar roar catches the attention of the Cyclopes. The one-eyed behemoth bellows in fury, leading its comrades toward Noah. Steering his draconian mount, Noah weaves between the knights' colossal feet, evoking the cyclopes' demise under the rhythmic downswing of the knights' swords. When a blade is aimed at Noah, his head meets it in resistance. His body emits a brilliant yellow energy that infuses the dragon, enhancing its speed drastically.

As they hurtle between the two knights, Noah sees their menacing swords ready to cleave his dragon. He looks at his ax, gently placing a kiss on the handle's tip.

A lone tear traces a path down his cheek as he leaps off the doomed dragon.

Noah "I'm sorry... Dad. I couldn't protect our family heirloom. So this is it... old friend. Goodbye."

He watches as it's cleaved in half along with all his equipment, resulting in a crossfire that leaves deep chasms across the knights' chests. Billowing orange clouds seep from the cracks before the gargantuan bodies topple to the ground.

As the dust settles, Noah realizes something...

Noah "Oh shit! That guy's body is blocking the door and I have no weapon! How can I get to the other room now?!"

With an orange cloud swirling towards him, Noah finds himself engulfed. Despite his futile attempt to flee, he is swept off his feet and whisked towards an unsuspecting door nestled in the room's high corner.

Noah "You can't be serious, right?! Seriously that door was just a decoy! Whoever designed this place is pure evil!"

Unlocking the door, Noah anticipates a place to rest. However, he steps into a room of silken threads instead. A door hidden behind a tapestry of webs awaits on the far end. An ominous sound interrupts his thought, and he turns. A colossal arachnid lurks in his peripheral vision, its presence imposing yet subtly unimposing to Noah, after the recent victory over dragons, cyclops, and knights.

He raises his hands.

As he advances, the room mutates. Noah finds himself adrift on a puny raft, amidst unfathomably wide waters. A chuckle escapes him.

Noah finally laughs...

Noah "Ah! So it is fear now! I just need to step forward to clear this test. That's easy!"

Noah plants his feet onto the miraculous water. Once again, the room morphs, the discordant tune of circus music ringing in his ears. Noah is rooted to the spot, encircled by a troupe of unsettlingly bizarre clowns. With a cacophony of squeals, they douse him in water and twist balloon creatures before his wide eyes. Noah's heart races, his long-standing fear of clowns seizing him.

An unwanted memory of an incident involving his friend, Dave, slithers into his mind.

His gut churns from the traumatic recollection. His dread rapidly transforms into repulsion, sparking a brilliant green, ethereal energy. This burst of defiance emanates from Noah, forcibly repelling the grotesque clowns. Steadying himself, Noah once again strides forward—

The room changes to a snow-covered landscape.

Noah "Oh no. No no no no! Not this again! C-Calm down! I-It's alright! It's j-just an illusion!"

Noah gazes at his hands.... now childlike once more. He falls to his knees, teetering on the brink of tears, the scars of his PTSD pricking at his consciousness. However, a dim memory flickers into focus, an enigmatic savior from a time lost in the shadow of his history. The stranger's words resonate within him, "Today, I'll give to you... child... my strength. In the future, you should use your own strength instead." These echoes of the past invigorate his spirit, imbuing him with newfound resolve.

Just one more stride to the door. He steps forward, and the environment shifts once the last time. He finds himself standing within the familiar comfort of... Sarah's room?

Noah "What?! No, Sarah. Not this shit again! You're a fake! Get out of the wa-

Sarah "Noah... I don't love you."

Noah "W-What? What are you saying?! Move out of the way!"

Sarah "I'm in love with someone else. I'm sorry."

Noah, pallid, stands frozen in place. These words, although an illusion, might echo the potential truths of an uncertain future— a possibility he struggles to accept. He stands there, suspended in time, waiting for another word from her, but the silence remains unbroken.

Then, a revelation strikes him— a glitch in this illusion's seemingly perfect facade.

Noah "Serious. Silence after telling me that she doesn't love me. Are you implying that she won't be my friend despite not loving me? What a joke! Sure, she might not love me back but there is no way that we won't still be friends afterward. So move out of the way!"

With his next step, the room dissolves into nothingness. Noah opens the door, transitioning into the great outdoors. He stands within a sprawling cityscape, yet everything, including himself, is etched in monochrome, reminiscent of an antique American film.

The languid notes of jazz music waft through the air from an unknown origin.

People stroll along the city streets, their attire plucked straight from the pages of the 1950s. Noah calls out and waves fervently, yet he remains unseen, unheard. He reaches out to them— his hand ghost through their forms.

Noah "Woah! They are holograms! So, what do I exactly even do here?!"

Hours melt away as Noah explores the city. He marvels at the timeless architecture, even indulging in a visit to a classic movie theater. Amidst the flickering black-and-white images, he spies a peculiar figure seated ahead of him. However, he pays no heed to the individual's identity. As the credits roll, the figure rises, and Noah is stunned. The face that turns to him belongs to none other than... himself.

Noah "What is going on?! Who are you?!"

His doppelganger is dressed impeccably, sporting a crisp grey sport coat, smart blue trousers, and vintage leather boots. The clone retrieves a pocket watch, then exits the theatre with purpose. Drawn in by this scenario Noah trails him to a building. The signboard reads "The New York Printing Company". Venturing inside, Noah observes his clone diligently navigating an office routine, laboring for a tedious twelve hours.

Eventually, the clone exits the building, sauntering towards a crosswalk. On the other side of the road, a familiar figure catches Noah's eye. It's Sarah, resplendent in a fiery circle dress and matching red slippers. Noah stands by, a silent witness as his clone casually walks past her, oblivious to her presence.

Noah "Wait! Where are you going?! She's right there! Hold on! Don't tell me you don't know who she is!"

Noah delves deeper into the clone's life, discovering a solitary existence. He belongs to no one— parentless, friendless, and loveless. His daily grind is monotonous, and the meager rewards offer no luxury or comfort. As Noah observes this iteration of himself living out such a life, an unexpected sadness burgeons within him.

Every day, he attempts to manipulate objects around him, seeking to orchestrate a meeting between his clone and Sarah's. Despite his efforts, his actions go unnoticed. Eventually, Noah resigns himself to the role of a silent observer, watching the drama of this parallel life unfold.

Over the span of a few years, Noah anticipates a turning point, yearning for a silver lining in his clone's otherwise gloomy life. Yet, his hope is bitterly met with the inevitable demise of the clone, succumbing to the relentless weight of stress.

Noah "So this is... this is what it would be like without Sarah. No, without my friends and my parents."

While part of Noah is steeped in sadness, a greater part acknowledges the fortune of his own existence. A smile graces his lips as he finds renewed gratitude for the life he has been given.

Clasping a lone purple flower, he pays his respects at his clone's rain-soaked grave.

Noah "I hope you find happiness in your next life, my friend."

The downpour ceases abruptly as the clouds above him part in a perfect circle. A stairway, wrought from beams of celestial light, spirals down towards him. Noah begins his ascent, glancing downwards. The denizens of the city finally acknowledge him, their gazes following his ascension.

Among them, a detached figure catches his eye. Sarah. She stands at his clone's grave, tears trailing down her cheeks, cradling something in her hands.

Noah "Oh. My. God. I was too busy watching over my own life that I didn't look into Sarah's. Did she... Does she know him?"

Noah observes the four roses cradled in her arms. As Sarah lifts her gaze, her eyes meet his. A shock crosses her as the roses tumble to the ground, her hands swiftly rising to cover her mouth in disbelief.

Noah sees that she is carrying four roses on her. She looks up and sees him, dropping the roses and putting her hands over her mouth in shock.

Noah "Four roses... My mother once said to me that it represents that nothing can come between two people. The irony is painful and I hope that you find closure, Sarah..."

With one last look, Noah steps into the welcoming glow of the light.