The virescent meadow stretched out endlessly into the horizon. It was a monument to nature's sonorous beauty. The emerald-colored blades contrasted with the azure sky beckoning the mind towards a calm, sweet serenity. The sight whispered promises of a soft profound tranquillity. The bounty it offered was a completeness that could inspire almost anyone to sit down amongst its waves and ponder on the intricate mysteries of life. This was the only conclusion that could undoubtedly be drawn on why this place existed.
Layla had no time for these things as the unknown power tried to disintegrate the very essence of her being. It felt like she was a the bottom of a deep ocean with billions of liters of water pressing down on her. She was like a potent ingredient in a mortar viciously being pounded into powder.
This was starting to become a common theme in her life with mysterious places. It was going to cause her to develop a complex at this rate.
Why did every step along whatever this ascension thing desire her destruction? What she wouldn’t give to be staking out high-risk heist instead of running in a hostile infinite meadow realm. Who would have thought that thieving from the powerful was safer? Her life decision-making abilities were all sorts of broken.
Layla pinched the front of her robes and pumped them like a smithy's bellow as she tried to cool herself off. Her black robes were drenched in sweat, but she wasn’t sure if it was from running for hours or the pressure trying to crush her like a tin can.
Layla took in a breath and gagged. Well, she assumed it was sweat coming out of her. A foul stench had long ago started permeating the air around her. It wasn’t clear if she was smelling this in the real world or in this mindscape she found herself in. She figured it didn’t matter at the moment since she couldn’t do anything about the stench, and she still needed to breathe.
Many paths ago, things had changed. Layla had paused before a new path. The first change in the scenery since coming here. The path was of dark crystalline onyx. The surface was marred with golden runes that glistened in the sun. The path was also much broader than the previous narrow ones.
The moment her foot stepped onto the dark stone path, something appeared in the distance. A lazy column of smoke rolled into the sky. That smoke had definitely not been there before she stepped onto the path. It was as though everything had been hidden under an illusion. Layla didn’t know who or what was causing the smoke as the distance was too far to judge its source. What she did know was the moment the smoke appeared, she felt as though a countdown had begun. Why she felt that way was a mystery. Maybe it was something instinctual or a gut feeling. Like one of those things where you walk by an alley and think, “Yeah, not going down the murder shortcut.”
Layla was confident that nothing good would happen if she didn’t reach the source of the smoke before the sun touched the horizon. She looked into the sky to gauge her progress as she pumped her legs for everything they were worth. The treacherous light-giving orb seemed to be falling faster and faster. Was it speeding up? She cursed as she made the assumption that it was. The further it dropped, the more danger Layla felt.
Another thing that changed was the paths themselves. They no longer stretched into infinity in a straight line. She could easily see a curve now. The curve bowed inward towards the smoke. The paths became much more numerous and shrunk to a single stone width. Layla suspected these paths weren’t actually paths, but there was nothing around to give her any more hints.
A part of her mind started to thank Atom for the insane physical endurance she now had, but the rest of her mind ripped that tiny part to shreds like a wild pack of rabid cats. Had the bastard told her anything about this place, she wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe she was supposed to stay where she started, and someone would retrieve her? She didn’t have a clue, and it was starting to piss her off. There were zero reasons as far as she could tell why he couldn’t take a few minutes of his time to explain things.
She would bet her life that the man had played some type of console game today. That was all he did before they came to this place. It was like he wanted her to fail. How was she supposed to learn when all he did was place her in situations where she could do nothing but react? The next time she saw the man, she would punch him right in the sack before strangling some answers out of him.
Fortunately, the pressure had not increased once she passed the onyx path. It remained constant in its pursuit of her soul's destruction, but she didn’t concern herself with it any longer. If anything, its continuous attempt to erase her had served as a reminder. Something interesting had to be at the center of these massive stone-ringed paths.
She looked to the sky once more, and a shock of fear ran through her. Time was most certainly running faster now. What had taken an hour previously for the sun to move was now taking maybe twenty minutes. Turning her gaze back to the grey smoke in the distance, she judged that she would be cutting it very close. She still couldn’t see where the smoke was coming from, but it was getting closer.
Layla leaned slightly forward and picked up speed. She pushed herself to her absolute maximum. Her legs, with all their superhuman-like strength, felt like jelly. Every beat of her heart could be heard like a drum in her ears. The sun touched the horizon, and she knew her time was up. That didn’t stop her from pushing on.
The silent thuds of her footsteps were all that she had heard for hours. Nothing had moved or been seen aside from the smoke and the stone paths. So when Layla felt she had missed her goal to reach the smoke before the sun took its nap in the sky, she had turned up her battle senses to overdrive. It was the only thing that saved her.
Layla felt a slight tingling between her shoulder blades, and she reacted on pure instinct as the world slowed down. She dove forward like a thrown spear and twisted mid-air towards the danger. A dark grey blade glinted in the twilight as it passed right through the air where her spine would have been. She snatched the small spindly arm that was attached to the sword. The dusky light didn’t give her a good picture of what the assailant looked like, but that didn’t matter. It possessed a head, and Layla could work with that. She hooked her right leg around the back of its neck, and she flexed her hamstrings as hard as she could as they spilled across the ground in the waist-high grass.
The squeezing pressure was rewarded with a sickening pop that she felt in-between her knee, and the arm she had a death grip on went limp as they finished their tumble. She paused briefly and dislodged herself from the thing to look it over.
It was small, like a child of maybe eight or nine, but that’s where the comparison ended. A mane of coarse white and black hair covered its head. She instantly recognized the thing. It was one of those green glowing red-eyed scabs from the slice. Where the crap had this thing come from?
She snatched up the things crude sword and scanned the grass. There were lines of tall grass moving unnaturally around her. They were trying to encircle her. A common tactic for those pointy-eared bastards.
Orienting herself to the smoke again, she quickly judged that it would take her around ten more minutes to reach it. Did she stay and handle the little green turds? She had a strong urge to do so. Layla despised their existence. These creatures had caused her more pain and frustration in the simulations than any other being. If she had a mortal enemy at this point in her life, it was undeniably these things, no matter how artificial those feelings might be. You just couldn’t forget having your flesh ripped from your bones so easily, even if the memories were now hazy.
As she watched, more and more paths through the grass could be seen. They would roll over her if she stayed any longer like a green tidal wave. Layla shook her head. There was no advantage to be had here. She didn’t have her two interlocking naginata or a pair of scythe variants to the hañbo. There were no redo’s in the real world, and she had no reason not to believe that if she died here, her body wouldn’t die as well.
Clicking her tongue, she palmed the poor excuse of a sword and ran towards the smoke. No matter how well she fought, she could and would be overwhelmed given enough numbers. She had already learned this lesson in the simulation. Sometimes it was better to retreat, for now.
Three moving lines in the grass began to converge into her path to box her in. She veered towards two of the lines. The two lines came together in front, but she didn’t slow down. Two sets of sinister glowing red eyes met a pair of electric blues. She pushed forward, falling into a sword style centered around fighting on the run. Layla performed The Millers Harvest, and two new fountains of green blood came into existence with a flash. Her strike never slowed her momentum in the slightest. She briefly considered snagging another blade but dismissed the idea. If she couldn’t kill a few pests with this metal rod posing as a blade, then she might as well fall on the darn thing and end it all.
Layla wasn’t a true master with the sword, at least not in her mind. The masters she had been forced to study under in the slice were far beyond her skills. When they used their blades, the air hummed with power, and their every movement molded that power to their very desires. Just the memory of watching them move through their kata’s invoked a strong emotion inside her chest from the beauty alone. There was something more to their movements, but she felt like she lacked a crucial piece of the puzzle that wasn’t explained. Maybe it couldn’t be. It was something she would need to think about when her environment wasn’t trying to kill her.
Layla had never been able to perform to that level. She suspected that it was due to the mental state she had been placed in while in the simulations. A mastery to that level must require some level of emotional awareness that simply wasn’t given to her. What she did accomplish, though, was to master the styles. She could perform every movement to perfection, but they lacked the artistry the masters had possessed. Layla imagined, if she took the time, she had the foundations to truly master the sword. The was the case for many of the classical weapons but not all. She had little mastery in a few weapons, but she suspected they were never meant to be wielded by a human.
As the minutes passed like hours, more and more of the little green beasts began popping up. Planes only knew from where, but the number was becoming a problem. Layla dropped into Samaras Lament, a sword stance meant to create room with its wide sweeps when surrounded on all sides. Usually, the move would only warn off the swordsman’s foes, but the glowing ember-eyed things paid no heed to the whirling blade. Fearlessly charging her without a care for their life. Layla took great advantage of their fearlessness as she quite literally mowed down her enemies with every spinning step.
Something was off about these attacks. A piece that had yet to show itself. Where were the more significant variants hiding? These tiny pests were only fodder used to soften her up. They could absolutely overtake her with enough concentrated numbers, but the problem lied in their leaders. The leaders were more human-looking with powerfully built frames. If Layla had not seen them commanding the things time and time again, she wouldn’t even think the species were related aside from the similar green hue skin.
The leaders always roamed in a group of three. A brawler type, an assassin with shadow abilities, and a priestess. It was a powerful combination to take on when you were constantly harassed by the little ones. She assumed that the priestess was a magic-user of some type. Yeah, the fact that magic really existed had come as a shock to Layla.
While Ascendants were god-like beings with strength beyond anything that could be comprehended, she had never actually seen them use any abilities aside from shifting, and whatever that oppressive force was that they could enforce around them. Atom’s light show on Golar didn’t really count in her mind. He was a Mantle, and they were known to break entire worlds if provoked.
Regardless, the combination was challenging to deal with, primarily because of the assassins. The bastards would never fully commit to a confrontation, and the moment Layla directly struck at the sketchy backstabbers, it would slink away into the shadows. The priestess took time to cast their magics and could be ignored if she quickly dispatched the brawler.
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She could feel the gazes of the three somewhere. They were biding their time looking for the opportune instance to strike. That was something Layla couldn’t allow. In an open field like this, while it was dark combined with the constant force that she was somehow mentally combating. She gave herself a fifty-fifty shot of winning. Ignoring them and avoiding direct conflict would be the wisest option.
The mysterious place mocked her plans almost as soon as she made them. Layla sighed as a dozen of the green turd droppings along with three leaders stood directly in her way. Life indeed did have it out for her.
Layla took in the three leaders. The one on the right towered over the small ones. He had a refined handsome face and inky black hair with two white streaks running back on either side of his head. Two short swords sat on his back. His face was contemplative. The female priestess was lithe and beautiful with delicate features and full, lush-red lips. The heart-shaped face was marred by a nasty sneer that Layla was familiar with. The priestess was always the group leader, and they were the definition of spite. The shadow's features were hidden under a dark cloak. Only its sinister burning gaze could be seen amongst the darkness of its cowl.
Looking past them, she could see they were blocking more than her way. Another onyx path wrapped around what she imagined the safe area was. She could see that these paths were actually circles and The source of the smoke appeared to be just beyond that onyx one.
Layla paused and considered the situation. In a head-on fight, she did not like her odds at all. This place and this scenario were complete trash. She could hear the other small green ones catching up to her from behind. A big part of her wanted to just run in and lay down the law on the bastards. She really did hate them, like an unreasonable amount. But… could she try diplomacy. Layla hated herself for the thought, but it was an option. The elites had never spoken to her in the slice. But they were all in fine clothing, which did give credence to some type of civilization. Screw it. Let's give it a shot.
Layla flicked her stolen sword out towards the onyx path. “Say, you wouldn’t mind just letting me past would you?”
The priestess began to laugh before she called back to Layla in a husky voice, “You shall not pass. We wouldn’t let you even if we were allowed.”
A red mist started to gather around Layla, which briefly shocked her. That’s new. She nodded and gave in to her hate for the green alien-looking creatures.
Shrugging, she said,
“Yeah, I kinda figured as much.”
She looked down at the poorly crafted weapon. The leather handle creaked as she tightened her grip. Giving the thing a few swings, she made up her mind.
Layla looked at the female, and her eyes narrowed, “But just so we are clear. I offered peace, and you chose death.”
Pointing her sword at the three, she continued, “You three will die even if it cost me my own life. That's a promise you can bet on.”
Layla didn’t wait for a reply as she burst forward at a full sprint. The elites looked startled for a moment but recovered quickly. The priestess began to chant something in a strange language that made Layla’s skin itch. The brawler unsheathed his two swords and took a ready stance. She kept her eyes trained on the assassin, but he bent down and disappeared. The little ones began to get riled up as they pushed against each other, preparing to accept the charge of a single female human. Something they were pretty confident in dispatching.
Layla gave a loud battle cry when she was ten meters away. A purple fireball started to grow in the priestess's hand as her voice raised, most likely signifying the chant was about to come to a crescendo. When Layla was five meters away, the group tensed for her assault. But to their utter shock, Layla pivoted to the right and ran away from the group. None of her enemies did anything for a moment as they all turned their heads to watch the previously screaming madwoman run away with great gusto.
The elites adapted first, but it was honestly too late. Layla dodged the assassin's strike from her shadow when she felt something behind her and dove into a roll right onto the black onyx path. Coming out of the roll, and immediately dodged to the right, narrowly avoiding the purple flames of the caster. The fire fizzled out a meter past her position.
Her green ambushers stared daggers at Layla as she gave them a big toothy grin. Her gamble seemed to pay off as none of the monsters would come onto the black onyx path. Why they could didn’t really matter, but she had suspected.
Layla snorted and spat to the side before turning her rear end to them and giving it a loud swat.
“You missed!” Layla taunted the priestess. The woman began to scream obscenities at Layla, but she had already stopped listening. She gave the brawler a wink because he was looking extra broody. Flicking the assassin the finger she turned her attention to what had appeared inside the black runic ring.
Nothing but an empty grass field was before her gaze, but as Layla stepped off the ring, the world changed. One moment she was in a field of lush grass as flat as could be. The next, she stood a the bottom of a small mountainous structure with a winding dirt path dotted with what looked like guideposts leading up to the top. At the peak, she could see the edges of something, but it was difficult to make out at the angle she was at.
Wondering how the heck something this large could go unseen, she turned around only to find the dirt path just ending a few meters away from her. Beyond the trail was a foreign night sky like she had never seen before. Beautiful blue and burnished bronze nebulas could be seen dotted across the sky. They were not fixed but flew like a swarm of birds across the stars. Periodically new stars would appear in their wake. Golden lines connected stars creating a tapestry of thousands upon thousands of unknown constellations. Had she been transported somewhere else? Did she actually die instead of escaping?
She walked to the edge, and her legs immediately started to get shaky, and she lay down too afraid she might fall off. Below the border was only a continuation of the night sky or maybe outer space. It was as though she was on a small island in an ocean of stars. The beauty was both breathtaking and terrifying.
Layla scooted away from the edge and rolled onto her back. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out through her nose. Throwing up her hands, she decided to just ignore the craziness. She was literally in a tower that's size defined her understanding. Not to mention she found it inside her head. There was no way she was making sense of this crap without someone explaining it. Even then, she would be skeptical.
A shooting star collided with another star. The collision caused a burst of kaleidoscopic colors that eventually turned into another rainbow nebula that drifted off through the infinite sea of moving celestial bodies. Layla sighed and got to her feet. The last time she stayed to enjoy the scenery, she was punished for it.
Looking up at the peak of the small mountain, she could make out the familiar smoke. Shrugging, she trudged her way up mount hill. The pressure had disappeared for some reason which left her feeling odd and slightly suspicious. Why was she all of a sudden welcome?
The moment she passed the first guidepost, the pressure returned, and she cursed aloud. Why did she just plant a flag? When she passed the second, the pressure increased. It was almost like it was stacking.
“Really!” Layla yelled into the sky.
This place was starting to grate on her nerves, and this pressure was complete mantle shit. She cursed a few more times colorfully and began to run again. She was going to just bull rush this garbage. Layla should have known that the brief reprieve was only a setup for round two. That was her life theme at the moment.
At the halfway point, she was the pressure double stacked, and she almost hit her knees but managed to turn it into a drunken stumble before gaining her momentum. She refused to be restrained. When she reached the three-quarter mark, the pressure hit her like a falling house. Her vision blacked out for a second, and she found herself leaning against the side of the wall of the path, trying to catch her breath. Black stars shot across her vision, and she could make out a distortion in the air.
What in the planes was up with this place. She felt like that increase could have killed her. Sensing her body back in her room, she could faintly feel something leaking from her nose and ears. Was it blood? Did she almost die?
Layla clenched her teeth together. Righteous anger built in her chest. This tower invited her in. Gave her no instructions and then suddenly didn’t want her to be here. Well, that was too damn bad.
She ignored the black stars as the pressure tried to send her into unconsciousness. Layla ran for everything she was worth. Each guide pose she passed on this last stretch felt like physical blows to her soul, but she endured it. That didn’t mean she took it standing up. The pressure was too great. Like the gravity had been turned to eleven.
By the last guidepost, she was crawling. Her arms dragged her body across the ground. The air in front of her shimmered from the pressure. Its physical manifestation made Layla think of the hazy heat from a hot metal surface that had been baked in the sun.
The end of the path was a stone arch, and as Layla drug her face through its entryway, the pressure reluctantly abated, but only after a few more pokes that she was sure shouldn’t have been allowed.
“Eat shit you petty twat,” Layla mumbled as she lay on the ground. Her everything hurt. She felt like something inside her was broken but was slowly fixing itself.
It was as though the intent in the pressure was upset that it had not crushed her but had to follow some type of rule. After a while, she stood and took note of her surroundings. A giant stone necropolis layout before her. The source of smoke that she'd been following turned out to be a large round brazier in the stone courtyard. The fire burning seven to eight meters in the air. She could see no wood in the brazier, so she wasn’t sure exactly what was burning. A large stone building with wide circular pillars held up a stone roof beyond the fire.
To the left and right of the courtyard were numerous marble and bronze statues of beings in poses of both dominance and beneficence. They were all human, but something about them was different. Alien even. While they were human, they were also something better or more significant. As though they represented what the race of humans could be evolved at its pinnacle. It made Layla shiver. She felt inferior just being around the statues. That feeling immediately pissed her off. Making an intuitive leap, she began to suspect that these statues were the reason the climb in that plane's forsaken path was so hostile.
She immediately ignored the things refusing to give them any more respect than a dog that had just taken a piss on her leg. She cursed every single one as she passed. She could somehow tell that they could hear her curses and wanted to retaliate but couldn’t. She chuckled darkly as her curse words became more creative as she made her way towards the entrance of the temple-like structure.
Walking inside the temple, she found a singular statue of a man. He sat in a cross-legged position in the middle of the building. His garb was very similar to Layla’s. A beggar's robe over pants and shirt. In his lap sat a staff. His arms laid across the staff in a meditative pose. The first finger and thumb of each hand touching to make a circle with his hands relaxed palms up.
The marble figure was the most life-like that she had ever laid her eyes on. The level of detail gone into sculpting the white marble astonished her. The only light that could be found was shining down on the statue from a source that couldn’t be seen.
She circled around the thing a few times, wondering what to do before she decided to sit in front of the statue and wait. The moment her butt hit the ground, a crack of thunder sounded, and a flash of light that blinded her hit the statue.
Layla rolled backward and flipped to her feet, guarding her eyes. The flash of light subsided, and she moved her hand away to find that the statue of marble was no longer marble. It was also no longer sitting as Layla looked into two copper green eyes from only a few centimeters away. Layla’s personal space was wholly violated.
“What are you,” Said a masculine voice. His face looked intently at Layla as though she was some interesting novel thing he couldn’t quite figure out.
“Says the magic statue man,” Layla replied back flippantly.
“Could you not.”
The man cocked his head sideways, “Could I not what?” His voice was curious.
“You’re uh, really in my personal space right now. It’s sort of creepy.”
The man straightened up and nodded that he understood. He continued his scrutinization of her body before saying. “You are injured. I can fix it but it will hurt.”
Before Layla could say anything, he reached out and tapped her on the forehead. Every inch of her body froze. She couldn’t make anything move no matter how hard she tried. He then grabbed hold of something over her head and yanked. A silver cord of light was in his hand, and Layla somehow intuitively knew it was extremely important. It was also something that you didn’t want someone to be messing with. What he did next would live in her nightmares for the rest of her life.
She floated there tethered to the silver cord connected to something off in the distance. The monk gave a big tug with the silver cord made of light and felt the substance of who she was being ripped from her body. Not softly, not gently, but straight up ripped out. The wrongness of it was beyond her understanding. All she could do was watch as she felt the very core of herself being violated.
“There is quite a bit of damage.” He said casually as he studied her again. She turned her head to see her body frozen in place.
He placed his hand over her ethereal form, and a platinum light shone out. A euphoria shot through her soul. It was… she didn’t know what it was. Complete bliss. Endless ecstasy. The things that felt broken inside her disappeared as the light touched her.
“There really shouldn’t be this much damage. The Path of a Hundred Thousand Steps should have groomed your physical form for adaptation. Did you just run here?” The man looked at her oddly. His eyes went up to the left as though he was watching something.
“You did just run here.” He laughed aloud.
“That was really stupid. Do they not teach you mortals anything anymore?”
Layla couldn’t say anything, so she just glared at the man. He ignored her as he finished up his whatever that was. He scrutinized her ethereal form and cord. “Ah, that’s why I didn’t recognize you. You are not human. Wait. You’re not even from this iteration. How did you even get here? You really shouldn’t be here. It’s no wonder the watchers were so hostile.”
The man did something else, and then her form snapped back into her body with a pop. The feeling felt disturbing, like putting on a perfectly fitting glove. He touched her forehead again, and she unfroze.
She then had the most unbelievably stupid idea of her short life. She wanted to punch the being that just yanked her soul out, repaired it, and put it back in like he was drying the dishes. Yeah, she could see that going well for her.
He sat back down and motioned for her to do the same.
“So tell me little cousin. What brings you to the Tower of Mazzaroth?”
Layla was still standing. The words the being just said caught up to her slowly recovering brain.
I’m not human? Iteration? Wtf?