My back produces a small wince with every step.

Over time, these winces join and become long and tedious emitters of pain.

My sac now drags along the floor.

My arms have become too tired to continue lifting it, doing this much is a small relief.

Why am I forcing myself to go this far?

So that 'they' don't find us of course.

It's day 2 of traveling out of these fields.

The snow has lessened,making the trip easier and more manageable.

We haven't seen any life yet, our food rations are limited so I make sure to take as little as possible.

In preparation for the worst-case scenario that these fields go on for far longer than one would predict.

Right now, We sit by a proud tree.

The winter wind is a shell of its former self.

It feels numb and irritating.

Every part of the skin I can see has flared and become a concerning red.

My muscles radiate an odd feeling as they finally get a short break.

Tearing a small piece of dried meat from the sac, I look at the person before me.

Chlora.

She makes water for us as of now.

I just wait patiently as my teeth try hard to get a chunk of the unpleasantly hard meat.

Its color is a meaty brown covered in a sore red.

As my hands grip this meal and my long red hair flaps in the wind, I look at this girl before me once more.

What does she seek?

I am still planning for when I reach the other side.

I should be strong enough to make my own living.

That much is clear.

But I don't really have time allotted for these kinds of thoughts.

Because there's a reason these fields are deserted.

It's because nothing can get in.

And if nothing can get in.

Then nothing shall come out.

Theoretically, I assumed.

For how else, would the 4 of us be here?

I already concluded.

The only people who I have seen enter, were at the minimum.

The head of a Magic Tower platoon.

Whatever Elrar is.

And I'm nowhere near either of those.

It can't be something to do with world energy. Vorgio is here.

So what is it?

I close off my thoughts as my attempts flail in the unknown.

I'll just find out when I get there, I suppose.

I realize that for a while, two purple bewildering eyes have been intensely gazing at the side of my face.

I choose not to gaslight my benefactor, rather I act as though I hadn't the slightest idea of what was occurring.

"So what's the plan?"

My voice is raspier than usual today.

Chlora puts her hand on her chin before slowly and I stress slowly, making her mind.

"I'll take you to the... to the... to the edge. And then... from there. I will. I will return."

I let her take her sweet time as her clear voice creeps into my ears.

"But what will you do when you return?"

I don't let her posture subtract into its usual slothful position.

"Train so that one day."

My ears twitch.

"I can leave."

Something inside me hurts.

I don't know where but it hurts.

God. Why did she have to bring that up?

I'd been hiding it for a while.

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But I had been feeling as though each floor I stood, slept, and sat on was a sea of guilty needles.

Every memory of everyevents brought a waterfall of humiliation.

I struggled to keep the emotions off my face when in Chloras company.

I calm myself.

"You know, you can probably leave too."

I look down as I speak. She wouldn't I suppose.

"No."

Her answer is instantaneous and unwavering.

"Oh."

I meet her eyes slowly but surely.

"So I guess, the next time we shall meet. Will be on the other side."

"Mhm."

I see. I nodded in appreciation as I looked forward.

The land has been getting higher and higher.

A small slope has become a huge land expanse that goes up in a secret tilt for miles.

Noticing my panting, Chlora mutters so I can barely hear.

"I think we have only a few miles to go."

I don't respond. Rather, I can't.

With my hands on my knees, I keep going.

Soon I may even have to crawl to go on.

The air gets thinner and deplorable.

It feels as if I am burning more than I am gaining as the land behind us increases.

Despite how high we have risen, the silver sky is still far above our heads. The wind still hits at the same fragrant intervals and any sign of the end is still far from near.

We then see the first signs of decline.

The grass is now cut thin and short.

The silver paint is fainter and grey.

The silver sky shows traces of blue.

My hopes raise.

We continue onwards, traveling at a steady pace.

My feet now kill but it's fine.

I walk in a zig-zag due to the dangerous steepness of this hill.

And after a kilometer or two of steep decline.

A grotesque,profuse and somehow slimy substance covers the border.

The border between dimensions I assume.

I look at Chlora.

"I guess this it."

She nods slowly.

"Yeah. I guess."

As I begin to leave a force holds my cotton sack.

I pull but then realize it's a human hand.

"Hmm?"

I don't look back.

This will be my new journey.

"Take it."

I reach my right hand backwards.

Unknowing of what I hold.

It feels cool to the touch and metallic.

It's small enough to be clenched in my hand.

I bring it infront of me.

It's her locket.

From all those years ago.

I don't look back.

"Thanks."

"I'll keep it safe."

I keep on going forwards.

Nothing will stop me now.

I don't care if I just changed my mentality about 18 times in the span of a week.

No that's an exaggeration of course.

All that matters is that I move forwards.

Wait. Is that a new mentality?

Nevermind.

I keep on going forwards.

"Kayden."

I stop.

"It suits you."

And I go forwards once more.

"Maybe. Maybe I'll be Kayden when we see each other next."

I feel like she nods in response.

So I continue my slow strides.

Unknowing of when I shall stop.

"Ja now."

When I get to the wall I'm tired.

As my closed hand makes contact with this odd texture, I feel my energy sapped.

It smells so smoky that my nose chokes on the smell. I want to cough but I can't for some reason.

I can hear nothing.

Yet I continue forwards.

And now I crawl.

I barely go on.

My crawl becomes a half-assed slugger.

Only my hind legs seem to be functional.

I feel my senses shut down one by one.

As I go on, the texture gets harder and harder to pull apart.

I end up spending minutes on each strong pull.

At this point, I'm just ramming forwards with my head.

And then my legs fall to the floor.

I feel my world fade away as the black around me begins falling.

Boom.

An orange hue covers my surroundings.

I don't know what happened.

The black retreats due to the presence of fire and therefore light.

I just keep crawling forwards.

And then I poke a small finger through the last layer. The strain makes it feel as if its on breaking point.

I feel the black texture coil around my finger as it gets thinner and stretchier.

Pop.

My finger peeks through the smallest gap.

A wild smile frenzies on my face.

I'm there. I'm out.

I'm free.

I'm in the New World.

A large crowd of priests and bishops in yellow and black stand outside a room in a marble space.

"What's going on."

"We don't know. The pope is in danger."

"Why?"

"We-we don't know."

The healers desperately answer their questions and cries.

The door opens and the men rush in.

Seeing the pope, grey and crumbling their eyes wince and their teeth grit.

"Who has done this to you?"

One bishop seethes with sorrowful rage.

"Relax, my children. This is but a path that I shall tread."

The pope spoke with dignity and remembrance.

"But we must now tread carefully."

The room was silent.

It would be a death sentence to interrupt one's last words.

"For he shall usher a new era."

A quiver broke from the crowd.

"W-who?"

The pope closes his eyes as whisper curls from his tongue.

"The boy from the other side."

"His hand already chokes ours."

"His breath curses our beings from birth."

"We shall sleep good for now. But tommorow can always mar."

"Sleep well, my children. For I shall try to too."

And the pope lay there. Silently.

The men looked around in fear before a man at the back rose silently.

His face was dark and solemn as he let his voice echoe in the sullen room.

It boomed and seethed with years of rage. He held it back and kept his tone reasonable thankfully.

"Spread the word."

"We must not let another Vibrakolah emerge from that dreaded place."

The numerous important figures dispersed elegantly taking major strides. The news must be spread far and wide throughout the lands.

Black-clothed experts dealt with the corpse of the pope.

Soon, festivals would be held and tears shed.

But none of those would matter.

If an existence with more danger than Vibrakolah had truly emerged.

Bishop Kahn was the last in the abandoned room.

He was a normal man with normal brown hair and a normal build.

He was simply lucky to be here.

The pope had been moved and the multiple healing gems around him, stripped.

It had been 11 years since the Pope first had obscurities in his health.

He begun having intense visions. So intense, that his mana would sky-rocket and the entire-building would tremble.

At that time Kahn was merely a boy.

The Pope was always smiling, yet whenever he stood within a vision.

His smiles became scarce.

As the pope died, a new one would soon be chosen by the Lord.

Kahn sighed as he thought of the political dilemmas.

The Elseirs had inserted multiple heirs into the church. Hopeful for the pope's position.

The Randos had inserted 4 boys into the church. They were pigs and embarrasments yet had formed forces that no-one could dare ignore or mock.

The last of the 3 most important figures, was the Dragovich.

They had only inserted one man into the church.

But 43% of the council were in the Dragovich Renoissance 125 years ago.

Krale Dragovich was destined to become the pope.

But he held many secrets.

Kahn himself had no place in this battle.

Yet he recalled someone who did.

"The boy from the other side huh?"

Kahn chuckled lightly.

For the project the Church had been working on was far more dangerous than anything from the Other Side.

Not even Vibrakolah in that matter. All in all...

It was far too dangerous for anyone. Be they from the other side or not.

Kahn sat up slowly. A black tatoo emerged on his hand.

Slowly changing and deforming.

It was a form of communication between the inner circles of the Church.

Or rather, those that had worked on the so-called project.

"So it's soon to be ready, eh?"

He just hoped that it wasn't to be used before every goddamn corner of hell froze over.

But compared to the heaven created in this shit-hole.

Hell probably looked a whole lot nicer.

Kahn closed the door behind him.

"Corruption sure is a petty thing."

He whistled to himself as he heads down the flawlessly marbleized building.

The black that had smirched this white floor was unbeknownst to the World.

The thought itself was almost comical. Ironic. Satirical.

And as the door was confirmed shut by his dead-panned eyes.

The last true light within the church was gone for good.