If this was supposed to be a difficult, will challenging test then they really need to rethink what they people are affected by.
Upon stepping foot inside the field, my immediate assumptions led me to believe that once I opened my eyes I’d be in the pits of hell, or a frozen wasteland or maybe even surrounded by hundreds of dead bodies. But none of the above was present.
The surrounding scene was pleasant and quaint. I’d been placed in the middle of some kind of village, far detached from modern society. In fact the place was so old, even my memories post-waking up would be considered new in comparison to what laid in front of me.
The houses were made of wood and stone with straw roofs. The paths and walkways were made up of simple pavement. Instead of cars and spaceships, the occasional horse pulled carriage would gallop past me. Furthermore, everyone was dressed in cotton and wool robes and pants.
“This is supposed to challenge my will to the extreme?” I questioned out loud, watching my surroundings. The place seemed so nice I could almost forget it was all an illusion.
Just as I began to walk, someone bumped into me from behind, and the basket they held in their hands fell to the floor.
As they scrambled to pick it up, I wondered if I should help. After all the person wasn’t actually real so it’s not like I had to worry about coming off as a mean person.
But watching the person frantically pick everything up, something came over me, and I could no longer simply stand by and watch. I knelt down beside them and helped pick up the fallen produce and other miscellaneous items.
“T-thank you.” The person said softly, turning to face me.
My jaw fell to the floor alongside the basket.
Seeing her face, I could now confirm the woman in front of me was the most beautiful person to ever exist. I nearly pinched myself but decided against it once my brain reminded me I was in an illusion.
She knelt next to me, and the world seemed to blur, fading into nothingness around her. Her eyes, amber like molten gold, glowed with a warmth that held all the mysteries of the world.
Every glance sent a stutter through my heart, as though she could see through me, beyond me.
Her hair cascaded in dark waves, catching the light like autumn’s last kiss, framing her face with an elegance that felt almost divine.
Each movement was a dance, a graceful, silent rhythm that made even the air feel sacred around her.
But it wasn’t just her beauty, it was her presence. There was an ache deep within me, a pull so strong it felt like she was everything I had ever dreamed of, and more than I could comprehend.
Standing before her, I felt awe and terror, as though I were looking at something too perfect for this world. Yet, there she was, impossibly real, breathing, and looking right at me.
She was far too perfect to be simply an illusion. Simply looking at her brought out parts of me I had never known. Words I would never use nor even know existed sprung to my mind in desperation, as if my body wouldn’t allow for me to disgrace her beauty with simple words.
Everything about her made me feel different, made me feel brand-new. My emotions were not ones of lust or of greed, but of hopelessness. Looking her in the eyes had my heart begging my eyes to never look away, as another look wasn’t guaranteed.
If I could spend my life at this moment, next to his goddess incarnate, marvelling at her grace, I would give up the world for the opportunity.
“Uhm, are you okay? Is something wrong?” She asked me worriedly.
Her voice was like a sweet-
What the hell am I saying?
“Uh-oh yeah sorry.” I added quickly, handing her the fruits in my hand. “I just got lost in thought for a second.” I chuckled awkwardly, standing up and stretching out my hand.
She took it and pulled herself up.
“Yeah I noticed.” She laughed, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
This had to be another form of magic, or some added layer to the illusion. Maybe the ‘challenging my will’ was supposed to mean in the form of temptation. I mean I’d seen my fair share of attractive women so far, the Arimus, Ria, Suiko and the woman from the first round.
They were all very good-looking and were definitely enough to make other men act up, but there was no such effect on me. But now in front of this very fake woman, I turned into a poet? Yes that has to be it. This was undoubtedly a part of the illusion.
“Well, sorry for bumping into you, but I should get going now. I’ll see you around?” She asked, already half turned away.
“Yeah, maybe.” I didn’t want her to leave, but I couldn’t drag the conversation any longer. She gave me one last smile and turned to walk. I stood still for quite a few moments before turning myself, only to turn around again almost immediately before calling out to her.
“Wait!” I yelled, running after her. And despite any hidden or suppressed intentions, I actually had a genuine reason to catch up to her. Though there wasn’t actually a real task to this round, considering my only objective was to last for as long as possible, there was absolutely some kind of wrapped up mystery.
I mean there was no way they’d put me into this peaceful place and call it a day. There was certainly more to this. And that woman was surely linked to it, she had to be.
“Hm?” She turned around and waited for me.
“I’m actually new to this area and don’t really know where I’m going or what to do. Do you mind showing me around?” I panted.
“I’d love to. I was just on my way to the town-square, so I can start your little tour from there.” She accepted my proposal a bit too easily and with a little too much enthusiasm, but there probably wasn’t much to be suspicious of when you were created about five minutes ago.
I nodded my head in agreement and followed behind her.
“So where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?” She asked as we walked.
“Down south, small village you’ve probably never heard of.” I’d already been trained on how to bullshit my way through an interrogation by Artemis, but her lack of doubt and suspicion towards me helped in making sure my lies flowed naturally.
“Ooh, from the south? No wonder your clothes seem so weird. What brings you up so far north?” She let her steps slow down a bit to match my pace.
“Errands, my father is a blacksmith, and he was thinking about shifting over here to start up his own little business, so he sent me to scope the place out.” I was thankful she didn’t question the oddity of my clothes.
“Well there’s definitely not a shortage of blacksmiths, but the more, the merrier right.”
“You’re right.” Usually I would have no problem letting the conversation die out, as talking too much really wasn’t my forte. Or I guess talking out loud too much wasn’t my forte. But I couldn’t resist the urge to keep talking, and thankfully it seemed that neither did she.
“My mother used to tell me about a popular myth from the south. Would you like to hear it?” She asked.
“Of course, maybe I’ll recognize it.” I smiled.
“Long ago, there was a mighty warrior of the south. He was beloved by his people and feared by his enemies, he would create bouts of jealousy and envy in between men and bouts over affection and superiority in between the women. His reverence grew so widespread, that the king of his land stripped the position of heir from his eldest son and gave it to the warrior.
The warrior naturally accepted the position, and vowed to not let the king down. But of course the eldest son was infuriated. This was not the first time the warrior had taken what he thought was his. In fact the eldest son believed himself to be in competition with the warrior his whole life, whether it be physically, mentally or romantically, he considered the warrior to be the bane of his existence.
But losing his position as heir was an offence the eldest son could not stomach. So he turned to a powerful and wicked cult, convincing them to help him rise to power, in return he would lead the cult to new heights. And so the cult accepted and asked for their god to descend into the eldest son's body and help him enact his revenge.
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However, after such a grave insult how could the eldest son out right kill the warrior? He would simply turn him into a martyr. So he hatched a plan. On the night of his coronation, the eldest son went out and slaughtered the entire population of commoners in the land. Then he quickly crashed the coronation and pinned the massacre on the warrior.
Naturally the people refused to believe that the man they respected so deeply would ever do such a thing, so they demanded proof. And it was at that moment that the wife and best friend of the warrior came forward and admitted it. They said that they watched as the warrior massacred everyone and even aided in some killings.
The eldest son smiled and told the pair that he could forgive their crimes if they killed the warrior themselves, to which they happily agreed. The warrior watched in horror as the two people closest to him, his soulmates plunged their swords through him, and the people he swore to protect and cherish mocked and cursed him.
The eldest son laughed with joy, as he now had everything he ever wanted. The warriors fame, strength, position, and wife. He had snatched the warrior's life for his very own. On the day of the eldest son's ascension to the throne, he trotted around the city with both the head of the warrior and his best friend on a pike. As for the wife? She was never seen again.” She finished, and her once happy and upbeat expression returned once more.
It was an incredibly long and angsty myth, which was a strange thing for a mother to tell her kids. I was expecting a tale of fairies and unicorns, but ended up with whatever that was. I certainly felt bad for the warrior, but the story lacked any buildup.
Not only that, but I could actually feel for him more had I known more, but from the myth alone it sounded like any other sad attempt to write a short and depressing tale. Now the townspeople who lost their lives? Those were the real victims.
“So, what’d you think?” The woman asked.
“Oh, it was good. I’ve never heard it before, but it’s definitely a unique story.” I pieced together a lie.
“I always hated that story. I mean the hero really just laid down and let everything happen? He didn’t step in when the eldest son came and threw the accusations out. He didn’t try to stop his wife and best friend from killing him. And even after they stabbed him, he remained silent. Not even saying anything!” She ranted.
“It’s because he cared.” I blurted out.
“What?” She turned to face me, her brow shot up in confusion.
“He didn’t say anything about the accusation because he was mourning the loss of his people. He deeply cared for them, and starting a baseless argument to save his own skin was basically making a mockery of their deaths.” I continued.
“Ok but what about when he was stabbed by the two people closest to him?”
“If you were to die, wouldn’t you want to die at the hands of those you love the most? Plus how could he raise his sword at them? They were his everything, they too were his people.”
I don’t know why I had become so defensive over the fictional man, but it just didn’t sit right with me. Was he the biggest victim in the story? No. Was he still a victim? Of course. Sure he was a bit of a wuss for not speaking up at all, but there’s no way he didn’t have a reason not to.
“You sure you’ve never heard this story? You seem to know a lot about the main character.”
“I’m sure, I’m just wonderful at reading between the lines. Plus I think we’ve arrived.” I quickly redirected her attention, noticing the large gathering of people and stores in front of us.
There really was no harm in continuing to debate over it, but it was probably the biggest waste of time I could pursue. Plus the sight in front of me wasn’t too terrible. The atmosphere seemed so full of joy and kindness I really wondered if it was possible to never wake up.
The woman showed me around her favourite stores and stalls, telling me other little stories, myths, and anecdotes about the world and herself. She seemingly never ran out of things to talk about, not that I would ever ask her to stop.
“Hey!” A man ran past and me picked up the woman in a hug from behind. “I thought you said you’d swing by if you had time?”
My face twitched.
“It completely slipped my mind, I am so sorry.” She laughed as the man put her down. “I got distracted.” She smiled.
“It’s fine, just make sure you come over tonight, I have something to show you.” The man laughed and ran off the way he came.
“Seems like a nice guy.” I said awkwardly walking next to her once more.
“That’s all a girl can ask for in a husband right?” She smiled.
“Right.”
The rest of our sightseeing was fairly silent.
⥁
The sun had set, and a beautiful night sky had stretched up over the town. As people laughed, talked and ate I sat silently with my strange smelling bowl of soup in front of me. For some bizarre reason or another, I let the woman talk me into coming over to her husband's house for a meal.
I wasn’t even hungry nor willing, but still accepted. And now here I am, some miserable hours later watching two illusions kiss, laugh and smile together while I’m sitting in a stupid corner. If this was their way of challenging my will, it was working.
“Hey mister, why do you look so down?” A small voice asked from beside me. I looked down to see a little girl had found a seat right next to me.
“The love of my life is an illusion who is another illusion for a husband, and despite knowing their both illusions, I still feel jealous.” I answered truthfully, there was no harm in lying.
“You just said illusion a lot, mister. What does that mean?” She asked.
Kids truly were the luckiest people alive.
I simply smiled and returned to my soup, which now tasted a smidge better.
“Help!” A bloodcurdling scream came from outside. Everyone immediately stopped in their tracks and turned to face the front of the house. I slowly stood up and began to walk towards the door, when someone tugged at my sleeve.
It was the husband.
“Wait, you don’t know what’s outside.” He spoke softly, and the disgust I felt made me feel like a terrible person. I shook him off and went to open the door, only he grabbed my sleeve once more.
“Fine, but I’ll come with you.” He turned and walked back to the woman, hugging her tightly before walking once more over to me. I was now praying the illusion would end at any moment.
We walked outside slowly, out of both precaution and blindness. I had an excuse, but it seemed odd that man hadn’t brought a single source of light. We turned down the alleyway behind the house and kept close together.
After the initial scream, the entire town had gone dead silent. A small rustle sounded out once we were halfway down the alleyway, and light footsteps were heard as we snapped our necks to face the source of the sound.
And there it was. A young boy, based on appearance no older than fourteen, lay decapitated. His limbs had been torn off and his body was polluted by blood and wounds, several of them running from his neck down to what were his legs.
My stomach started to churn, but clearly mine was not the weakest, as the husband turned to vomit profusely.
Once the nights eating and drinking were on the ground, we both turned to the boy.
“Who would do this?” He asked, kneeling besides the boy. He removed his robes and draped it over the body after tearing off a piece to wrap the boy's head. Though a bit grossed out, I couldn’t allow a corpse to be disrespected, so I removed my hoodie and wrapped up the severed limbs.
We walked back to the house just as silently as we came, but returned to find a strange sight. All the lights had been turned off, and not the slightest sound could be heard. The husband stood in shock, sweat beading off his forehead as his legs began to tremble.
A strong sense of horror began to creep up at the back of my mind, and I wondered if I could just run away, if it was too late to give up. We both turned to face each other, and the pure terror in his face was frightening.
I gently placed the wrapped up limbs on the ground and inched forward. The door creaked as it opened, and there it was. A demon had walked through the home and left its mark.
The stench of blood hits me like a wall. The dining room is a nightmare, blood smeared across the walls, furniture overturned, and bodies slumped against the walls.
Their heads were tilted back, faces frozen in terror, throats torn wide open, exposing bone.
The floor is slick with dark smears, each step sticking as I make my way through the carnage.
The kitchen is worse, far worse. Two bodies, one woman sprawled across the table, her torso ripped open, guts spilling over the edge, while another is pinned to the wall with knives through his hands. His stomach is split open, organs hanging loose, dripping steadily onto the blood-soaked floor.
I follow the trail of blood down the hall, my heart pounding in my ears. Further down the main hall, the rest of the family lies butchered. The little girl who came up to me is crumpled in a corner, body torn to pieces, one arm missing.
On the ground, an older man is sliced open from throat to groin, his innards laid out on the floor like a gruesome display, his face beaten beyond recognition. Beside him, a similarly aged woman’s head sits on a pot, severed clean from her body, her vacant eyes staring directly at me. Blood still drips from her neck, pooling beneath her decapitated corpse. The horror overwhelms me, and I feel like I’m suffocating in the violence.
But then came the most dreaded scene, the one that truly broke me. To anyone else she would be far from recognizable, but I knew. I hated that I knew. Her body had been pinned up over the furnace, her limbs detached and held up separately. Her dress had been torn up and tossed aside, revealing the gruesome scene underneath. She’d been carved and gutted, and from inside her stomach, her head fell out.
It rolled to me slowly, stopping by my feet. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the ground. Who cares if this isn’t real? Who cares if this is all an illusion? She can’t be dead. There’s no way. This wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even told me her name yet.
I picked up the head and held it in my hands, her blood smeared on my hands. There was not a single word I could use to describe anything that was happening.
The door creaked loudly, and I wiped my tears as the husband slowly made his way inside. He was no longer holding the body, but his pace was still slow. He went up to each and every single body, his eyes unblinking. Then he arrived next to me, his hands trembling as he reached down.
I released my grip on her head and gave it to him, standing up and wiping the blood on my pants. But my hands were stained red. Then he turned to me.
“You.” He said, his voice quivering.
“It was you. You did this?” He pointed his finger at me.
My shock had grown to the extent that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend his words. Not even to begin with the how, why or when but there was no possible justification to pin this on me. But I remained silent, not even attempting to defend myself. This was just a stage of grief, and he’d recover soon enough.
Heavy footsteps and metal hitting the ground surrounded the house before several men came inside. Each one was clad in silver armour, while the one in the lead was clad in gold. The gold knight stepped forward, their head moving around to stare at every inch of the house.
They then turned to face the two of us. Their head moved from the husband's finger to my face, then to the woman’s head. They drew their sword and marched forward. Now I could no longer stay quiet.
“Wait! Wait! It wasn’t me! I was with him the whole time!” I pointed at the husband, but he remained still, his finger pointed at me.
“Silence! You will pay for what you’ve done heretic!” The knight roared lunging forward, his sword held above his head.
I tried to let my aura flare out, but was met with nothing. As the sword began to descend towards me, I tried harder, pushing myself, but once again, nothing. I rolled to the side, blood from the floor smearing across my body as the knight's sword hit the ground hard.
“Do not resist!” He cried out.
“Infra! What’s going on!? Why isn’t my Heartile responding!” I cried out, dodging through piles of guts as the knight continued his assault.
No response.
“Infra! I’m sorry about telling you to shut up, but I really need you right now!” I cried in desperation, and the first slash connected. The cold metal blade sliced across my back, my blood mixing with the others.
I stood frantically and pushed past the knights, who all moved to allow me to run.
“Infra! Haedon! Someone! Now’s not the time for jokes! I need you guys!” I cried out, tears flowed from my eyes and mixed in with my blood.
The knight had caught up to me already, and with much better aim his attacks sped up. A stab pierced through my back and out my stomach, and as the first mouthful of blood sprayed out, a second slice separated my forearm.
I cried out in pain, pressing my stub onto my chest while trying to hold my stomach closed with my free hand. As my stamina drained from my body, the knight's pursuit turned into a march of death.
He had stopped aiming for the vitals, now only slashing at my back and legs. With each cut my body would wince in agony, and I grew dizzy from the blood loss, but I could not stop moving. Picking up on my relentless escape, the knight grew angrier.
He threw his sword hilt-first into me, knocking me on the back of the head. My body crumpled, and I landed face-first into the cold pavement below. As my blood oozed into a puddle around me, the knight flipped me over with his foot and stabbed his sword into my chest.
Calling over the rest of the knights, the torture began. They started with non-lethal parts. Pulling out my hair, nails, teeth, and eyes. Then came my limbs, but they did not sever me into four. No, they diced my arms and legs piece by piece, leaving only my neck in-tact.
Finally came the rest of my organs. They skinned me with their swords, peeling off my skin and muscle tissue before reaching my innards. I could feel every single organ being pulled out, first was my lungs and last went my heart.
They finished by slicing off my nose and vocal cords, but I was already beyond screaming. My body had long stopped roaring in agony, instead it had simply frozen over. The cold took over for only a few moments, but as my head came off, everything turned into nothing.
I had no sensation. I could not hear, I could not speak, I could not smell, I could not feel. They had stripped me of my very being and paraded me around town, the cheering of people told me why they let me keep my ears.
The average person would have died long ago, being released from their suffering. But I experienced it all. From the beginning to the end, from human to corpse.
My mind allowed me to take in pain like no other, but still kept itself alive.
My humanity was gone, and what was left behind was something worse. Something far worse.