…Yes, I can hear them. I can hear them all around me. “We need to monitor stability,” says one voice. “We need to run more tests,” says the other. Are these my guardian angels, or could they be someone else entirely? Mother, could it be you? Oh, how I wish to talk to you again…
“Doctor, we need to perform compressions, now!” A bodiless voice shouts into the void. …I understand what is happening…Who knew this is how dying felt. Trapped inside yourself, while those on the outside do all they can to bring you back from crossing the veil. Although I had hoped it was you, mother, I now realize these spirits are, in fact, my medical staff trying to save me, just like what guardian angels do. Although I may not be able to hear you, I have complete faith that you can hear me. I love you, mother. Please…please continue to watch over me, always…
■ ■ ■
“For…Doctor Breedlove….waking up…all…stable.” The talking of a staffer is the first thing I hear as I awake in the infirmary. As I regain my senses, my attention goes right toward my arm. Aside from the fact that it is mostly bandaged up and in a sling, I can still slightly move and bend it, which relieves my fear of it being broken. I attempt to lift it, but the pain is too intense. Damn it! This will definitely pose an issue if I can’t manage this pain. I barely survived my first fight and had my arm slashed open as a result. Even with just one arm out of commission, there’s no telling the damage I could take as a result; it’s even possible for me to die or even worse: spiral down to Sokushinbutsu. Get it together, Mercedes! Get it together! You cannot start spiraling now! Everything will be fine. Time’s on my side for the moment. Remember what the man dressed in black stated before the tournament began? The fights are held on the first day of every week. This means I have a week, seven full days, before I need to fight again. That should be enough time to allow my arm to at least be somewhat functional before the next round begins.
“Glad to see you’re finally awake, Lady Mercedes.” A familiar voice enters the room, bringing my train of thought to a grinding halt. My eyes immediately darted around the room attempting to find the source of that amicable speaking. Left to right, up and down, I searched endlessly until finally my sight fixated toward the front of the room. It was Madam Breedlove, standing underneath the doorway, a look of relief, but also concern, written all over her face. There’s obviously something on her mind, and my gut is telling me that it has something to do with the fight that landed me in this predicament right from the beginning.
“That was quite a bit of blood you lost out there.” She chides as she takes a seat in the chair next to me. “How are you feeling, Mercedes?”
“Well, the arm definitely hurts like hell, but that’s pale in comparison to how my head feels like it’s going to split open.”
“That’s to be expected for someone who lost the amount of blood you did.”
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that much. Right, Lottie?”
“Mercedes, let me put it to you this way: The average adult female carries around four liters of blood in their body. With that being said, the average human can lose up to 20% of their blood before passing out or experiencing shock; losing 40% or more causes your body and organs to fail, killing you in the process. To put this all into perspective, Mercedes, you lost more than a third of your blood. It was essentially a miracle you were able to stand about and stay conscious, let alone have a full-fledged conversation with us, before you collapsed from your injuries. All-in-all, you are lucky to even be here talking to me right now.”
I don’t know what compelled me to blurt out the next question to Lottie. Maybe I was still processing my own mortality, yet again, or maybe I was just morbidly curious. Well, maybe a little bit of both, but no matter the reason, my mouth was unable to contain the thought racing around my mind like a racecar with zero limits: “Did I flatline at all?”
“... … Yes. Three times to be exact.”
The silence and hesitation in her answer leaves me with uneasiness, so I decided to ask another question: “Based on your expression alone, I have a feeling that there is something else on your mind. Am I correct?”
“... Indeed.”
“What’s bothering you?” I asked with more intrigue.
“... Ever since your accident, a feeling of dread has clouded my thoughts and better judgment. In order to reassure myself and dissipate my doubts, I am going to be administering you a couple of tests.”
“What kind of tests? What are you testing for?” My intrigue, now slowly turning into anxiety.
“The first test will evaluate your motor functions and reflexes. I need to make sure that your previous fight did not leave behind any further damages, other than the initial gash and loss of blood, that could pose as a detriment later on in the tournament.”
“What about the second test?”
“The second test will be an evaluation of your cognitive abilities.”
“Why do you need to evaluate my cognitive abilities? I feel fine! There’s nothing wrong with me! My brain is working just fine!”
“Mercedes, I’m not saying there is anything wrong with your brain. I am, however, doing this merely as a precautionary measure.”
Her answer adds more to the panic and worry already building up inside me. There are more urgent matters at hand than some supplementary exams that will prove nothing is wrong with my head! I just need to find a way to let her discharge me, so I can observe the rest of the fights.
“Please, Lottie, can’t we push these tests off until later in the week? I find it very important that I watch the rest of the first round match-ups. That way, I can spend my week preparing for hypothetical matches while also giving my arm time to heal in the process.”
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Suddenly, the air in the room became ice-cold, filling it with a chilly, dense aura. Just then, Madam Breedlove replied to me: “...About that, Mercedes. I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
“A-Are you telling me I…”
“Yes, Mercedes. Your shock-induced coma unfortunately caused you to miss the latter half of the matches. I am truly sorry.”
“... …”
“Mercedes, I know this information can be a lot to take in, but we need to find a…”
“How much time do I have left before the second round?”
“... Five hours.”
“Five hours?! That’s all I have left to prepare for it? I don’t know anything about my opponent’s power, their God name, appearance, or anything! Now they’re expecting me to fight in my current condition? I have an arm that’s practically out of commission!”
“Mercedes, try and–”
“And then to top it all off, they probably, no absolutely, they absolutely know about my ability and how to easily plan a counterattack for it. I’m at a major disadvantage before the round even starts! Oh, man, what am I going to do?”
“Mercedes, please you have to stop…”
“Am I going to die? Am I going to die before I even get a chance to confront him? This is it. This is it… This is the end. I’m going to die slowly and painfully, I just know it…I JUST KNOW IT!
MERCEDES VIDA HAS SUCCESSFULLY ENTERED THE SPIRAL OF FEAR
“Mercedes!”
“I CAN’T DO THIS! I CAN’T DO THIS! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE HELP MEEEEE!
*SLAP*
MERCEDES VIDA HAS SUCCESSFULLY ABORTED SPIRALING
CURRENT SPIRAL: FEAR
A radiating sting envelops my face, freeing me from my grasp of Demisegame. What’s going on? What even happened to cause this? How did I activate The Spiral so quickly?
“Mercedes! You need to snap out of it. RIGHT. NOW! You cannot allow yourself to spiral down into Sokushinbutsu! You need…to stay calm. I understand your concern and panic, believe me! I’ve been worrying nonstop this week, thinking you’d never wake up and be disqualified by default! God knows what they would’ve done to your body if you continued to remain unconscious! It may seem like my demeanor is unfazed, but in reality, it’s more likely than not, a façade to help keep your mental and emotional health in balance.”
“Lottie…”
“So, if you would…let’s get these tests out of the way, so that we can come up with a strategy for your second fight. Together. Okay?”
“... …Okay” I’m really sorry, Lottie. I wish I could say more, but my mind just won’t let me…
“Let us proceed with the examinations.”
Madam Breedlove then proceeded to roll in a nearby machine next to me, hooking up multiple nodes all over my body, mainly around my head, arms, and chest. And over the course of two hours, she conducted both exams as fast and as precisely as she could. The first exam went over basic movement and motor function patterns with a heightened emphasis on my left arm. After making sure all was in the green, she then proceeded to the second test to assess my mental capabilities as well as which level of The Spiral I was currently on. The questions given to me ranged from those found on an average cognitive test– memory, critical thinking, verbal ability, and the like– to questions about the tournament and even about my own biography.
“Well, Mercedes, it looks like everything seems to be good and in the clear. As for which level of The Spiral you reside in; you are on the fourth level: The Spiral of Fear.”
“What does that mean for me, Lottie?” I replied.
“It means that you are almost halfway to Sokushinbutsu. While being one on the fourth level may not seem like a huge issue, if you don’t account for the occasional anxiety attack, once you cross into the fifth Spiral of Neurosis, Demisegame will greatly worsen and affect how you think and process reality. By altering your brain chemistry, this greatly increases your chances of spiraling through the last half at an exponential rate, ultimately leading to Sokushinbutsu sooner. Crossing into The Spiral of Neurosis is usually considered the point of no return for many of the competitors as most of them will end up spiraling to completion due to a lack of mental and emotional fortitude.”
“What do you think would be the best course of action?” I asked in response.
“The best way of preventing further spiraling is to come up with a contingency plan along with integrating coping mechanisms mainly used by soldiers during times of war. The most important one I’ll try and teach you is called ‘stress inoculation.’”
“Stress inoculation?”
“Yes, and while I don’t have the time to go into full detail, stress inoculation is a way for you to build up a sort of immunity to both chronic and high intensity stress, leading to better physical, mental, and emotional performance during such moments.”
“Lottie, is this something that I’ll be able to pick up on within the next–”
*Ding-Dong Bing-Bong*
*Attention: will all delegates and sponsors make their way to the Grand Auditorium for the selecting of the second round match-ups. I repeat: will all delegates and sponsors make their way to the Grand Auditorium for the selecting of the second round match-ups. Thank you.*
“Lottie?”
“I know. I wish I had the time to teach you myself, but it appears you’re going to have to do it on your own prior to your second match…But don’t fret, I was able to print out the basic guidelines on how to practice the inoculation techniques. Again, Mercedes, my deepest apologies for wasting so much of your time.” Madam Breedlove tried her best to keep a smile, but it couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face.
“Lottie…”
“If it wasn’t for my insistence on those tests…you…you would’ve been better equipped for your fight.”
“Lottie, listen to me! If we didn’t perform those tests, we wouldn’t have figured out if I was cleared to compete, not to mention analyzing my stats and progress on The Spiral. Without those tests, we wouldn’t even be talking about stress reduction techniques right now! I’d honestly still be in the middle of a panic attack if you didn’t intervene on the behalf of my safety, so I should be the one apologizing to you as well as thanking you for always being there for me, just like Riku...”
“Oh, Mercedes!” Madam Breedlove immediately lunged forward and hugged me in a warm embrace. Her once steady stream of tears, now free-flowing from intense emotions.
“Please…” She whispered, “Please come back in one piece, Lady Mercedes.”
“...I will, Lottie! I will win this next match!” I tried my best to reassure her.
“You better! Now you should probably get dressed before they try and mark you off as an instant elimination. You’ve fought way too hard to end it here! Now go! Go and show the Order who will become God, Lady Mercedes Vida!”
■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 151 → 96]