Michael, another Penitent, moved toward me with deliberate, measured steps. He was not as physically imposing as the first soldier, but there was a gravity in his presence that was hard to ignore. His dark eyes, deep-set and intense, seemed to pierce through me, as if he could see the very core of my being. There was a depth in those eyes, a weariness that only came from witnessing unspeakable horrors on the battlefield. As I began to speak, relaying the details of the traitors, Michael listened with an impassive face, though a flicker of concern passed over his features when I mentioned the betrayal. His silence was a comfort, a steady anchor in the chaotic storm of my thoughts and fears, grounding me in the moment.
Michael led me toward a tent, its weathered canvas flaps fluttering in the breeze like the whispered promises of secrecy. As we walked into the tent, I stole a glance back at Elric. His attention was already elsewhere, his sharp mind undoubtedly turning over the implications of what I had told him, calculating the next steps like a master strategist planning a grand chess match. The tent was dimly lit, the light from a single lantern casting long shadows that danced on the fabric wall. The air inside was thick with the scent of earth and sweat, mingling with the faint, acrid smell of burning wood from the campfires outside.
The camp around us seemed to hum with a new energy. The flickering fires cast eerie shadows on the rough canvas of the tents, making the soldiers’ movements appear ghostly and surreal. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there moments before—a heightened awareness, a readiness for whatever was to come. The soldiers moved with more purpose, their idle chatter now tinged with a seriousness that had not existed just minutes ago. I could feel it in my bones; I had set something in motion, and now all I could do was wait and see where it would lead.
“So here’s where we stand,” Malice continued translating, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of its customary snark. The sudden seriousness in his tone was unsettling, a jarring contrast to the usual sarcasm that I had come to begrudgingly expect. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to start back up again, if only to bring a sense of normalcy to this surreal situation. The tension in my chest coiled tighter, like a spring wound to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.
“There’s one more traitor in the camp, and we have two rounds of horde mode to get through.”
“Horde mode?” I questioned, my brow furrowing in confusion. The term felt foreign and jarring, out of place in this grim reality. My mind flashed back to the woman I had killed earlier—she had mentioned something about waves of evil coming to attack us, but I had dismissed it as the delirious ramblings of a dying mind.
“The win condition for this floor is to either keep Elric alive through nine hordes of monsters, or betray everyone and kill Elric yourself.”
“And how do you know which role you’re meant to play?” I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty as I tried to grasp the twisted logic of this game. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and I could feel my pulse quicken, the blood thrumming loudly in my ears.
“That's the neat part. You don’t,” Malice responded, his tone matter-of-fact, as if the ambiguity was simply another part of the challenge. The nonchalance in his voice only added to my frustration, a hot surge of anger rising in my chest.
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“Then how do you know there are three traitors?” I pressed, my words edged with irritation, the pieces of this puzzle refusing to align in my mind.
“Because I overheard them plotting while on patrol, but couldn't find who it was. Only one traitor gets the crown, though. If you don’t land the killing blow, your run resets with the rest of us.”
[So, are you seeing the benefits of murder now?] Malice finally chimed in, the familiar sarcasm slipping back into his voice, as though he couldn’t resist adding his usual flair. [Besides, the guy will respawn, so it’s not like it’s actually murder. If you shank him, we can move on to the third floor. I hear it has a slick library.]
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a physical burden, the tension in my shoulders spreading down my spine. “So what’s stopping some random asshole from just killing Elric right now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside me.
[Trade secret. But let’s just say, he’s weakest on the battlefield but could take on every soldier in camp with both hands tied behind his back. Oh, and blindfolded,] Malice replied, his tone casual as if discussing the weather. The absurdity of the statement was almost lost on me in the gravity of the moment, my mind too tangled in the conflicting emotions that were battling for control.
I stared at Michael, my jaw slackening as the implications of Malice’s words sank in. It seemed odd hearing this from him, but it made sense. Elric was his boss, and he was probably trying to reinforce the man’s reputation for invincibility—the kind of legend that could keep morale high and dissent low. I thought back to what the Book of Blood had said about the founder:
His cruelty knew no bounds, commanding armies to their deaths and driving cities to ruin. He conquered the world with aplomb, and once it was his, he vanished. In his wake, the world collapsed into war, three terrors rising to claim his crumbling kingdom. But the Elric I had met was kind, and a good leader. What was going on?
I shook my head, trying to clear the conflicting thoughts that tangled in my mind like a dense thicket. When I met Michael’s earnest gaze, I felt a war waging within me. Malice was right, ultimately—killing Elric here would mean nothing. It was practically a shortcut to the next floor. But by killing him, I would be dooming dozens of people to wasted runs, robbing them of their chance for advancement. The thought twisted in my gut, a knot of guilt and uncertainty tightening with every passing second. If it came down to it, I was sure I could press the advantage…
But at what cost?
Did I want to be the kind of person who put my needs above others?
[You already are,] Malice's voice slithered into my thoughts, each word a barb digging deeper into my conscience. [All those screaming people turned to zombies because you didn’t help. All those people starving because you did nothing.] The guilt wrapped around my heart, leaden and suffocating, until it was all I could feel.
I wanted nothing more than to run away from my problems to let somebody else deal with them. But I couldn’t be that person anymore. Rod had said it best: Be decisive. I could be decisive.
"Alright, Michael," I said, my voice firming with resolve. "Tell me what I need to do. "We spent the next hour discussing battlefield strategy, and how best to put my powers to use. The penitent forces had been dealt a pretty heavy blow from the fact that 2 of our strongest warriors had been found to be traitors.