Quinn looked at his surroundings in shock. Once again, he had been teleported back to the start. The abnormality, one he had put to the side, had occurred once again.
I got teleported back once again? Does that mean the puppets reset as well? Why did it happen so suddenly and at such a different place from before? Is there something that keeps affecting me?
As Quinn stood in shock, Golden Quinn watched him with a smirk, “You didn't actually think it would just stop happening if you forgot about it, did you? Here's a tip, if something abnormal occurs, you should never forget about it. Abnormal things are usually signs of something bad, possibly even dangerous.”
Quinn contemplated what had happened, what could have caused his teleportation, and how he could stop it from occurring. After a few seconds, he looked towards Golden Quinn, “Was this the trial all along? I have to figure out the cause of my teleportation?”
Golden Quinn shrugged, not giving any indication to whether he was right or wrong. This annoyed Quinn, but he decided finding out the answer to his teleportation would be more important than trying to pry an answer out of his other version, especially if knowing the answer directly could cause any harm.
“Wait a minute… if I discover the answer to the teleportation while in my mind, isn't that the same as if you told me in the first place? In that case, does that mean I would be punished if I learned it either way?”
Golden Quinn shook his head, “No, you wouldn't be punished even if I told you. I just choose to keep this information from you.”
“Why?” Quinn had started getting angry, confused by why his other self was withholding information.
“If I told you the answer to everything, how would you learn? Isn't that the point of these trials anyways?”
“The point of these trials? What are you talking about?” If Quinn had the capability of punching his other self, he would have.
“I am saying that these trials and layers that you are being put through, they have a purpose. It isn't just to make you suffer, ‘He’ is trying to make you stronger.”
Quinn looked at his golden version with interest. The only time he had heard someone say ‘He’ was when the ghost had spoken about the owner of the mansion, “You are saying that ‘He’ is trying to help us rather than harm us? I had three companions die on the last layer. I have a friend that is missing, possibly even in danger, but ‘He’ is trying to help us?”
Golden Quinn looked at him with annoyance, “How could you possibly judge what ‘He’ is doing? I would not agree with the way ‘He’ does things, sure, but ‘His’ way of doing things is the only way to help improve your echoes. ‘This isn't just some death maze you have entered, but a place to develop you into a stronger person.”
Quinn’s mind was filled with questions, ones he did not have the time or capability of answering.
“Putting people through pain and suffering, that isn't moral.”
Golden Quinn looked at his other version with disgust, “You speak of morals? This world is unfair. Unfair things will happen and you have to get over it. Your friends died, but that is just natural selection.”
Quinn became furious, “You talk about death as if it is such a normal thing, as if Cally, Liz and Winston were just bugs that needed to be squashed.”
“You are right, I was wrong. If natural selection had really occurred, you would probably be dead in that room now. After all, Winston was much stronger than how you currently are.”
The two fought back and forth, wasting time as they bickered. For two grown adults, they were both acting immaturely.
Golden Quinn looked at Quinn with a deep stare, “You need to take these trials as seriously as you can. If you don't learn from them, if I have to tell you everything, you will never escape from this mansion.”
Quinn stared at his golden version with a glare, but did not make a retort. He just sat and listened as Golden Quinn spoke once again, “I withhold information because I believe that in doing so you will be able to learn from what occurs. I can't hold your hand like you're a little kid every single time you need something.”
Quinn was mad, at his other self, at the owner of the mansion, and at himself. He listened to Golden Quinn's words, realizing that he was right, although he wasn't very fond of saying anything about it to his face. He began to calm down after a short wild, “You are right, but that doesn’t mean I agree to the slaughter of my friends and companions.”
“That is fine, if you didn't disagree, it would have been more worrisome than the situation you are currently in. Besides, I didn't mention this before, but keeping you alive is my main priority. That is of course because if you die, I die as well.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
This news shocked Quinn, “You will die if I die as well? Why… are you some sort of parasite?”
“I am not a parasite, and I cant mention why that is the case, unless of course you want to kill us both right now.”
Quinn waved his hand in the air, “Then forget it. I will probably figure it out in the future anyways.”
After all the talking was done and over, Quinn turned towards the mountain tunnel, “I guess it's time to get moving.”
For the third time, Quinn had begun making his way through the low lit tunnel, heading in the direction of the small town. As he walked, his mind tried thinking of ways to figure out the cause of his teleportation. With what little information he had, he tried piecing together a hypothesis.
I get teleported back, the puppets lose all of their memory, or at least the bartender does, but it likely occurs with all of the puppets, then I have to do everything all over again. How does this all work together? What am I missing?
After making his way to the end of the tunnel and stepping out into the bright light, Quinn picked up a rock with a sharp edge off of the ground. Using its sharp tip, he sliced a small cut across his skin which caused his hand to bleed lightly. He then ripped a small strip of cloth off of his clothes and wrapped it around his hand to protect the cut.
Quinn turned his head towards his golden version and spotted him with a slight smile across his face. This was the most reaction Quinn had gotten from him ever, so he knew he must be on the right track.
After the ten minute walk through the tunnel, along with the ten minute walk down the dirt path, Quinn had finally made his way into Oak Town. Just like before, it had no people–or puppets–wandering its streets, making it feel like a ghost town.
Instead of heading to the Bar or Inn, Quinn decided to go straight through the town and make his way to the house on the mountainside that was mentioned by the bartender before. This way, he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of asking the bartender for information he already knew.
Quinn crossed the bridge, slightly glancing at the waterfall before taking a step on the other side of the bridge, indicating he had left town. This also helped Quinn to learn that his teleportation did not occur from him making his way out of town.
After wandering through the forest and following the dirt path, Quinn had arrived at a medium-sized house that sat on the side of the mountain. The dirt path led all the way up to the cabin house.
After taking in the view of the house's log walls and beautiful slanted brown roof, Quinn made his way up the path and to the front door. The door was a pine green color with a bronze colored knob that was slightly rusted.
After trying to find a window to look inside for any danger, Quinn had realized that all the windows were foggy and impossible to see through, so he decided to take the risk and just enter through the front door.
As Quinn went to turn the knob of the door, his vision went blurry before his surroundings changed. Once again, he stood at the beginning, right in front of the mountain with the cave tunnel embedded in its side.
Instead of being surprised about such a thing happening, Quinn acted calm and collected. He lifted his hand, the one wrapped in ripped cloth from his shirt, and found that the ripped cloth was no longer there, along with no sighting of the cut!
His shirt had been fully repaired and the cut on his skin had been completely healed with no sight of a scar or bruise.
Quinn smiled gleefully as his plan had worked as he had intended it. Golden Quinn looked at him calmly, “So you figured out what has occurred?”
Quinn looked at him with a smirk, “Yeah, although I'm not fully sure, I am fairly confident in what had occurred.”
Quinn held up his hand, brandishing it as if to show the cut was no longer there, “At the beginning, when I first believed I was teleported, I realized that the bartender no longer recognized who I was. I found this abnormal, which you said I should keep an eye on abnormal signs, so I wanted to see if there was a reason for why the bartender did not remember me.
“That is why I cut my hand and wrapped it in a cloth. For my hypothesis, I could have just cut the cloth and see if it had repaired itself, but I wanted to test how far this mansion was able to affect the scenario.”
Golden Quinn looked at him with curiosity, “Then what is your theory that adds all of this together?”
Quinn looked at him with sharp and confident eyes, “I was never being teleported in the first place. Instead, time had been reversed back to when I had originally entered into the trial. That is why my hand was capable of being fully healed and why the bartender had acted the same and did not remember me when I entered the bar the second time.”
Golden Quinn looked at him, clapping slowly, “Congratulations, it seems you figured it out, but you are still missing a piece of the puzzle.”
“That's right. I am missing the point as to why, how, or at what point I am being rewound in time in the first place, but I already have an idea as to how I will figure out part of it.” Quinn took ten steps away from where he started and sat cross legged on the soft grass, “I will sit here and count the time it takes for the time to reset. If I am right, it should be on a set time, which is why I had been teleported back at similar times after making my way in or out of the town.”
Quinn leaned back onto the warm grass, counting in his head as he stared up at the beautiful blue sky. Golden Quinn floated over him, happy with the progress that Quinn had shown, “To think that only in the last regression were you complaining about me withholding information. Are you… possibly happy that I withheld such information now that you had figured it out all by yourself?”
Quinn turned his eyes towards the man floating beside him, “I will say that I am slightly gratified with what I had accomplished.”
“You've completed so little and you are already this smug. We will see how that is after you get further into this trial.”
Quinn pulled out a piece of grass and began to bite on it.
“58… 59… 60…”
Quinn counted as another minute passed, unmoving as he stared up at the clouds, proud of his accomplishment.