Agony!

Indescribable agony flooded Merlin's body and will, which had just begun to relax. It was as if a firestorm had ignited within him, a searing light manifesting beneath his skin like serpents of flame coursing through his body.

Wisps of white smoke emanated from his nostrils, mouth, and ears as if he were kindling ready to be fully consumed by the next spark.

"Bang"

The door of Lola swung open, and amidst the pulsating beats of Michaelson's song, Merlin stumbled out and collapsed to the ground. Waves of excruciating pain rolled through his body and mind, rendering him as helpless as a fish out of water, thrashing in convulsions. He struggled to breathe, but not a whisper of air could enter his lungs, as every organ seemed to be choked by surging demonic heat.

The physical torment was unbearable, but the cataclysm occurring in his soul could annihilate Merlin forever.

His soul was being torn apart!

This was not a metaphor; it was a literal dissection by invisible hands grasping each side of his soul.

Amidst the violent tremors of malevolent heat, the talons yanking at his soul were pulling with such ferocity that it seemed intent on ripping his essence to shreds, obliterating his existence completely.

"Ah!"

Merlin clutched his hair tightly, throwing his head back and slamming it against the ground, attempting to distract from the spiritual torment with physical pain.

"Bang"

"Bang"

Two heavy impacts left Merlin's forehead streaming with blood. He tilted his head back once more, and then...

"Crack"

With a deep tearing sound, the light in Merlin's eyes abruptly faded. His body remained intact but began to cool rapidly as if a heated stone had been plunged into cold water. Clouds of white smoke swirled around him, but inside, his soul had been shattered by the unrestrained power of San Gong.

The song playing in the background grew deeper, sounding like the final note of an ending.

"Bang"

Merlin's lifeless body hit the wilderness floor.

As San Gong had declared, it preferred to destroy this unique soul rather than let it fall into the hands of others.

A cool night breeze swept over, lifting Merlin's black hair as if it were wild grass on the ground, but he could no longer respond to the gentle wind.

He was dead.

-----------------------------------

At the gambling table, the overlords watched in silence, indicating that none wished to voice their opinions.

The overlord with the peculiar bracelet took the cigar from his mouth, looking across the table at another overlord.

The one being watched was dressed distinctively.

Cloaked entirely in a black robe, he wore an eye patch over his left eye, and his right ice-blue eye showed no change in expression, just a glacial stillness.

"Blade of Dawn, it's your turn."

A voice like an arbiter's rang out:

"The 'Demon' sequence is paused, entering the 'Fortune' first sequence. Please prepare for the next dice roll, or forfeit."

"Hmm."

The eye-patched overlord nodded, eyeing the scene, and said:

"Only by discarding illusion can true knowledge emerge. This story is finally getting interesting."

He turned to the scribe at the table and inquired:

"So, what name shall you give this chapter of the story?"

The scribe shrugged and replied in a gentle tone:

"To cross over death, one must leave something behind. He died because his soul was shattered, and thus he is truly reborn. Everything before is as if from a previous life. He is..."

"Hmm, The Forgotten."

The cigar-smoking overlord flicked his finger, cutting off their flowery exchange, and said impatiently:

"Then let him get up already."

"It's a pitiful sight, a man lying alone in the field at night."

---------------------------------------

"Buzz"

Merlin felt as if he had been dreaming a long dream, but as with all dreams, there comes a moment of awakening.

At the break of dawn, he suddenly opened his eyes to find, by the light of the car, a groundhog that had emerged from its burrow curiously examining him as if beholding a fallen giant.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As Merlin's eyes snapped open, the startled groundhog scurried back into its den, trembling in the darkness, fearing the awakened giant might seek retribution.

But there was no need.

Merlin weakly rose from the ground, his head spinning as if Tyson had landed a punch. He seriously suspected he might be suffering from post-concussion syndrome, for his vision was double, as if severely myopic.

Merlin managed to seat himself in Lola, closing his eyes and rubbing his head, occasionally shaking it to alleviate the double vision.

The good news was his sight was rapidly recovering.

The bad news was the deathly scene from his dream seemed not to have been a mere fantasy.

Merlin looked down, his vision still blurry, to see his clothes soaked with alarming bloodstains. His ears occasionally filled with a murmuring noise, like a dozen people speaking at once, preventing him from calming down or thinking clearly.

Merlin only remembered enduring a horrific event, the demon's pact exploding, nearly killing him, but it seemed he had survived.

Was it mercy from the demon?

Unlikely.

Merlin massaged his forehead, clearing some of the blood crust from his hair. He sat motionless in the car for several minutes, until the dawn was nearly upon him and his vision almost fully restored, though still with faint afterimages.

That's when Merlin noticed something strange in the rearview mirror.

His eyes.

Within his black pupils, there was a faint red dot. Although subtle, it was reminiscent of San Gong's human form, the demon's eyes he had witnessed just three nights ago.

The pact, though unclear how, seemed to have taken effect, at least partially.

"What on earth is happening?"

Merlin widened his eyes, inspecting them closely in the mirror by the light of Lola's headlights. As he stared, the red dots also seemed to enlarge, but aside from the visual effect, there appeared to be no other consequence.

This discovery left Merlin slightly anxious; he suspected he hadn't fully escaped the pact's impact.

Perhaps it was a harbinger of more severe repercussions to come.

As time passed and Merlin's thoughts wandered, dawn finally broke. The first light pierced the darkness, illuminating the wilderness like a curtain raising.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but Merlin found the sunlight unusually harsh, even uncomfortable, as if under the scorch of a midday sun. He reached into Lola's trunk for an old cowboy hat and James's sunglasses, donning them to feel a bit more at ease.

"Better head back now; Mom and Phil must be worried."

Merlin restarted the car and drove back to the farm, which, despite being sold, the agency had allowed the Coulson family half a month to pack up.

After changing into fresh clothes in his room, Merlin drove to the hospital.

But it was a day of misfortune.

At every intersection, the lights were long reds, and as he crossed one, he nearly collided with an old man out for a walk, resulting in a few minutes of harsh scolding.

As he neared the hospital, birds left unpleasant "gifts" on his car window.

Exiting the car, Merlin slipped and almost impaled his head on the parking lot barrier.

On his way upstairs, he bumped into a hurried doctor, nearly falling from the third floor.

When he tried to drink water, he encountered a short circuit.

All this reminded Merlin of a novel he and Phil had read during a boring moment... The title seemed to be "Final Destination."

"It's definitely just psychological."

Merlin reassured himself, stepping out of the elevator and carefully heading to James's ward. He tried to appear calm; he didn't want his family to worry.

"Phil!"

Merlin called out to Phil, who was resting on a chair outside the ward. He removed his hat, hesitated, but didn't immediately take off the sunglasses.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

Phil's irritable response caught Merlin off guard; he thought his brother was joking. He sighed, sat next to Phil, and comforted him in a low voice:

"Don't be scared, little brother. We'll get through this; Dad will get better."

"Who's your little brother?"

Phil, baffled by the presumptuous stranger, pushed away Merlin's hand on his shoulder and said sternly:

"Listen, pal! Yes, my dad has been unlucky, but the Coulson family will get through this. I appreciate your support, but you've got the wrong person."

"What do you mean?"

Seeing Phil's expression, Merlin was no fool; he quickly realized something new had transpired.

He removed his sunglasses and looked at Phil seriously, pointing to his face:

"Don't you recognize me?"

Phil scrutinized Merlin's face for several seconds before shaking his head, pointing to Merlin's eyes:

"I really don't know you, I've never seen you before. But your eyes are cool, buddy. Is that some new makeup trick?"

"Snap"

Merlin's fists clenched at that moment.

A phrase the Shadow Guest had uttered in the coffee shop suddenly echoed in Merlin's mind.

"To cross over death, one must leave something behind."

Initially, Merlin thought it was just Judas's misplaced poetic flair, but now it seemed a warning.

If this wasn't a prank by Phil, it meant Merlin had indeed paid a price for his "resurrection."

The torn pact hadn't killed him, but it had killed his name, all memories of him, and his trace in this world.

Turning him from a man who had everything into a ghost with nowhere to belong.

"Sigh"

Merlin exhaled deeply.

Looking at Phil, now a stranger beside him, he felt all strength drain from his body. He sat slumped in the chair, his complexion ashen.

This frightened Phil, who thought the intrusive man might be having a sudden illness. He was about to call a doctor but was stopped by Merlin.

Merlin signaled that he didn't need help.

He stood up, taking one last look at James Coulson in the ward, the man he had called father for 18 years. He sighed, put his sunglasses back on, and told Phil:

"I'm going to make a call. I'm a friend of your father. I'll be back soon."

With that, Merlin turned and left. Phil watched the retreating figure, feeling a sense of familiarity, but after searching his memory, he was certain he had never met the man.

"Phil, my son, who was that?"

Mrs. Coulson approached with a cup of hot coffee, handing it to her only son. She gazed at the departing figure of Merlin, asking:

"Is that your friend?"

"No, it's not."

Phil replied:

"He said he's Dad's friend, but he looked too young... Mom? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

The young man took his mother's hand, comforting her:

"I told you, didn't I? A kind person donated some money to us. You don't have to worry about Dad's surgery and recovery."

Mrs. Coulson's tears flowed uncontrollably as she spoke to her son:

"No, it's not that... I just suddenly feel like crying, I'm so sad, but I don't know why. Phil, I feel like I just lost something very important, something precious."

"Don't cry, Mom."

Phil awkwardly comforted his mother as she continued to weep, looking in the direction Merlin had left. The events of the past few days had overwhelmed the 15-year-old, and eventually, mother and son embraced, weeping together, their sorrow resonating with the surrounding onlookers.

This was a hospital, an intensive care unit, where sadness was never in short supply.

Meanwhile, Merlin stood by the hospital's public phone, lifting the receiver and dialing a long series of numbers. As the phone rang, a pleasant female voice came through:

"Hello, who are you looking for?"

"May I ask..."

Merlin's lips trembled, his voice cracking with nervousness like a gambler awaiting the outcome, he asked:

"Is this May Riley?"

"Yes, it is."

The woman on the other end responded with confusion:

"Who is this?"

"I'm... I'm Merlin. Do you remember me? Cousin."

"Merlin?"

The woman's voice turned cold as she warned:

"I don't know who you are, but that's not funny! My only cousin Merlin died 18 years ago... Please don't call again. I don't like your jokes. Goodbye!"

"Beep beep beep"

The dial tone left Merlin unable to hold the receiver; he crumpled to the floor, his hands covering his eyes as tears seeped through his fingers.

"You said you wouldn't forget me... but you, you all forgot me first..."

"My God... why me..."

He broke down.

18 years...

An entire lifetime of 18 years, like a non-existent dream, was brutally shattered in that moment.

Perhaps Merlin Riley truly died 18 years ago.

Now, he was nothing but a forsaken spirit.