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Miru(Pree)
Michael

Michael

As Michael roused from his slumber, the haunting wail of the wind and the mysterious rustling of unseen entities filled his ears. His eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing a chilling sight that enveloped him in a realm of eerie desolation. Bones, strewn haphazardly amidst overgrown foliage and entangled vines, painted a macabre scene. Towering walls akin to formidable mountains enclosed him from both sides, stretching endlessly for miles in every direction, their cardinal bearings concealed in the shroud of uncertainty. Amidst this disorienting panorama, Michael's gaze fixated upon a distant silhouette resembling a majestic peak, while the opposing end dissolved into impenetrable darkness, an abyss that sent shivers of dread coursing through his.

Frantically searching for any signs of his companions or his belongings, Michael's eyes darted restlessly, but alas, no traces were to be found. Desperation compelled him to reach out with his senses, yearning for a flicker of connection, yet his efforts proved futile. Stranded in this enigmatic wilderness, his whereabouts remained a disconcerting enigma. Summoning courage from the depths of his spirit, he rose from his barren resting place and embarked upon a treacherous journey toward the enigmatic mountain. With every step he took, a somber spectacle unfolded before his eyes — skeletal remains of both humans and unknown creatures littered the path, testaments to the unforgiving nature of this forsaken realm. The passage of time seemed distorted as he pressed on, his efforts yielding an agonizing sense of stagnation as if the very ground he traversed defied progress, mocking his tireless march.

However, his newfound determination was abruptly shattered as an uncanny sensation of being watched pierced through his senses, sending a chill down his spine. The presence felt ominously close, prompting him to ready himself for the impending threat. As he channeled his inner strength, a torrential onslaught commenced. Bones, animated by an unseen force, hurtled towards him from every conceivable angle. Swiftly, he evaded their deadly trajectory, displaying nimble dexterity amidst the chaotic onslaught. Yet, his respite was short-lived.

Without warning, a vicious assault descended upon him from above, thrusting him forcefully to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the surroundings, only to find emptiness lingering in the air. With trembling determination, he rose from the ground, now encircled by a legion of skeletal figures. Their hollow frames resonated with eerie echoes, calling out his name in a haunting chorus—Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael. A fleeting recollection surged through his mind, briefly transporting him to a bygone era of his turbulent past. Images materialized before his eyes, a vivid flashback of a war-ravaged battlefield, where he, as a young soldier, stood amidst lifeless bodies, adorned with the stain of blood, clutching a blade in his trembling hand. However, the momentary respite faded as swiftly as it had arrived, replaced once again by the grim reality of the skeletal horde, relentless in their assault.

Undeterred by the overwhelming odds, Michael engaged in a relentless battle against the relentless skeletal adversaries, attempting to conserve his energy, relying on his innate abilities sparingly. However, his efforts proved fruitless, as for every skeleton he vanquished, ten more emerged from the ethereal depths, an unyielding tide of adversaries. Doubt crept into his mind, questioning the futility of his struggle.

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In a resolute decision, Michael unleashed the full extent of his power, surging with energy. With unwavering determination, he swiftly positioned himself in a dynamic stance, as if lighting was in his vanes that was ready to be unleashed. In an instant, he vanished from his stationary position, hurtling forward with unparalleled speed. Despite the relentless barrage of bones that pursued him, his agile reflexes allowed him to skillfully dodge their lethal trajectories, evading their assault while maintaining his swift pace.

As he continued his mad dash, a vision materialized before him—a temple, adorned with enigmatic figures cloaked in robes. They sat in serene stillness, their presence imbued with an air of mystique. The sight brought a glimmer of hope, a possibility of solace and answers amidst the enigma that enveloped him.

In the midst of the robed figures' tranquil meditation, a deafening crack reverberated through the air, resembling the resounding thunder of an untamed storm. Yet, the skies remained clear and serene, devoid of any visible disturbances. In an instant, as if conjured by the mystic forces at play, Michael materialized before them. Despite their monk-like appearance, Michael remained cautious, unwilling to let his guard down.

The figure seated at the center of the congregation, the Abbot, slowly opened his eyes, their gaze piercing through the suspended particles, seemingly settling the dust in the air itself. His eyes met Michael's, and a profound connection unfolded between them. Sensing the intensity of the moment, the Abbot spoke, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom and authority, instructing his fellow monks to resume their meditation. In perfect unison, the other monks acknowledged their obedience, responding with a resounding affirmation—"Yes, Abbot." With those words, they closed their eyes once again, immersing themselves in their practice.

To Michael, however, it felt as if the Abbot's gaze lingered upon him, even with his eyes seemingly closed. The profoundness of the encounter left an indelible impression, an unspoken understanding that there was something extraordinary about the Abbot's presence.

Abbot: Welcome, Michael.

Michael: Wait, how do you know my name?

Abbot: Because I have been anticipating your arrival.

Michael: Expecting me? What are you talking about, old man?

Abbot: I have always known that you would find your way here.

Michael: What? This doesn't make any sense.

In that moment, Michael contemplated leaving, feeling overwhelmed by the enigmatic situation.

Abbot: Before you depart, allow me to address your questions. My name is Ashford, and I serve as the head Abbot of this monastery. I assure you, we harbor no ill intentions towards you. Regarding your current whereabouts, you have arrived in Gehenna, a realm where you are not deceased, and rest assured, your friends are alive as well.

Michael's mind raced with suspicion.

Michael: Are you reading my mind, old man?

Abbot Ashford: Why would I need to read your thoughts when your questions are visibly etched upon your countenance? You are free to leave, but I must caution you that with the inner turmoil you carry, survival would prove to be a formidable challenge.

Abbot Ashford then rose from his seated position, closing the distance between himself and Michael.

Standing before Michael, Ashford then gracefully returned to his seated position, extending an invitation for Michael to join him.

Abbot Ashford: I urge you to join me, Michael. We have much to discuss and work on together.

Michael, torn between his apprehension and a lingering curiosity, contemplated the proposition. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon him, but a flicker of hope glimmered amidst the unknown.