Scanning my new surroundings, I was struck by... nothing. Yes, there was nothing. No corpses, no blood. Nevertheless, I wasn't relieved. After all, I couldn't hear any noise apart from the crackle of lamps on the ceiling. Another disturbing aspect of this corridor was the smooth, metallic appearance of all the walls around me. Especially as they were still a dull grey. A little variety would have been welcome, though. Now that I think about it, it's an ironic thought because the walls weren't the problem; I was the problem.

I took a deep breath and mentally motivated myself. It's a good thing I'm not such a coward now. And so I moved forward, one step at a time, slowly, deeper and deeper into this empty, sinister corridor. Imposing doors were set into the walls. I tried to open a few, but none would open. Strange latches on them seemed to crackle when I touched them. I could only scream in pain each time.

I had officially gone mad. This constant deafening noise from the ceiling was really going to destroy me. I wanted to hear something! Even my footsteps would do. Unfortunately, by some miracle, my footsteps didn't make a sound. What's more, the more I walked, the more corridors, closed doors, and intersections I came across... leading to even more corridors and doors.

I'd been walking through this infernal maze for hours, maybe days. And I realized a few things. First of all, the door numbers were repeating. Either it was a labyrinth, or it was to confuse people and make them think it was a labyrinth. But in neither case did it help me in my quest.

Then, in places, the crackling sound of the lamps stopped. At least, in some places, I could enjoy relative peace and quiet. The bad news was that this stoppage would spread from place to place, bringing darkness. So, if I didn't hurry, the lamps would all go out, and darkness would reign. This alternative terrified me too much.

Finally, as I tested the doors, I noticed the contact was less painful. Better still, I instinctively felt that the latch offered less and less resistance. Yet I was content to touch them only with my fingertips. Soon, I'd be able to get out. If I'd known where the doors were going back then, I'd have stayed a bit longer.

I thought about my options and finally resolved to open the door. Indeed, another oddity I noticed was that my willingness to open the door affected the crackling and pain I received. But it also made the latch less resistant more quickly. And believe me, I'd done some testing. The phantom pain felt while writing these memories can testify to that. I thought it was instinctive then, but it was my first use of magic. Magic without formulas, without skills, without help from the System, so very rudimentary and inefficient, but magic nonetheless.

I brought the palms of both hands up to the door. I had also concluded from my previous attempts that, with roughly equal willpower, the greater the surface area of contact, the less resistance the latch offered. I didn't know it then, but the flow of mana, the particles of magic, increased. It was no surprise then that the probable magical protections in the latches were gradually damaged. After all, it was a simple brute-force attack, and I'm not proud of it now. There was nothing ingenious about it, after all. Well, let's get on with it!

Just as my entire will and my palms touched the door, an intense, inexorable pain came over me. My breathing stopped, my eyes blurred, and it became harder and harder to hear. Usually, this was the point where I'd pull my contact away from the door. But not this time! I knew I had to keep going. I didn't care about any absurd moments of protection.

So I went on and on... My soul felt like it was being torn apart. Perhaps this strength came from my soul. And I was right, for I would later learn that soul magic exists. But back to my torment and its conclusion. Yes, this was their end when they reached their climax. My pain level will rarely reach this threshold in the future.

A state where my soul was burning, ordering me to stop. But I didn't have the willpower to fight it, so I just let go. And it did me good because my soul stopped whining. And yet it burned, burned some more. He'd stopped that instinct of his. Why was this different from the other times? Maybe it was.

Yes, I was convinced I had passed a point of no return. That's when I had a thought that had come straight from the psyche of the craziest crazies. And yet, at the time, I wasn't wrong. Yes, this intuition was magnificent. The force I felt came from deep within my soul. The Void was coming out of my soul.

I understood that this force came from my Void, that my soul embodied a Void. And that, at the same time, this Void was consuming me from within. I didn't know how, but I knew. I was discovering more about myself, and this realization was thrilling.

By insisting on breaking the door, I released this Void outside me, damaging my soul. And the longer I went on, the greater the damage. But the Void was also my soul's greatest desire. So my soul's discomfort subsided when this beloved Void sufficiently broke through.

In fact, I almost thought my soul was suffering because it hadn't been irrigated in the Void. And that now, bathed in the Void, it was complete and in harmony with the Void. The soul melting into the Void. The soul becomes the Void. The soul is the Void. Of course, this required the soul to collapse in the process. But that was what the soul wanted.

And then everything stopped. I opened my eyes, wondering when I'd fallen asleep. I passed out without realizing it. And the door! I had to see it! Fortunately, the latch was well and truly broken. That's when I realized that despite my fainting spell, I still had my hands on it, holding my body above the floor.

In fact, as the pain gradually returned, my arms began to tense up. This was to be expected, as they prevented my body from falling. I pulled on the latch, which luckily remained firmly anchored to the door, to slowly straighten up.

I was upright and stable again, even though my arms were causing me intense muscular pain. I tried to open the door, but no sooner had I managed to get it ajar than I began to feel extreme heating, burning, and pulling sensations in my arms. Well, the arms were useless and needed to rest.

There was only one solution left: put the tip of one of my feet into the small opening and pull it towards me. Only that part of my body could get through. I knew even then that this was going to be a risky plan. Although I had underestimated the consequences of my decision.

And this was not long in coming. A sharp pain shot through me. I felt the heat inside me, accompanied shortly afterward by a cold sweat, and my breathing became jerky. But I kept going; I had to. And that was a bad idea. I should at least have stopped and taken a break.

As I persevered, my eyes misted over, and a crack was heard above my toes. I'd broken one or more bones, I'm not sure. What I did know for sure, however, was that blood was seeping from the wound. And that was a bad sign.

On closer examination of the wound, I saw that I probably wouldn't die from it. The only problem was that I couldn't walk for a while. And that was a huge problem. I didn't know if I should go ahead with the maneuver.

But when I caught sight of the door, with my mind at rest from the initial pain, I was astonished to find that its opening had become wide enough to push through with other parts of my body. Even if it meant injuring other parts of my body. It was a risk I had to take, especially as the lights were going out faster and faster. Either the physical pain or the madness of being trapped in an unbearable night. And I knew which I preferred.

So I slipped through the opening, pressing with my body to spread it as wide as possible. It was difficult, mainly as I could only crawl, starting with my feet and gradually working my way up.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

During the maneuver, I felt terrible compressions, particularly in my stomach and legs. But I had to push that door open, or my head would never fit. So I stubbornly pushed harder and harder, ignoring the dubious squeaks and creaks, as well as the thin trickle of blood I could see out of the corner of my eye.

This went on for many minutes, or maybe fewer. I don't know since the notion of time itself has become absent. All I could concentrate on was this action and its hopefully beneficial outcome. So much so that I had already poked my head through the door by the time I came to my senses. I was relieved that the opening had become broad enough that my head didn't have to sustain any damage.

So it was no surprise to me when still half-conscious, I turned my head and stood stunned for I don't even know how long. To be honest, the moment seemed both immediate and eternal. My head was drained of consciousness. My eyes became blurry, and my heartbeat, resonating strongly within me, accelerated.

And that was normal. Who would expect to go back to where it all began. It should be impossible... It was a nightmare! I didn't want to accept this reality. It was too much... much more than I could bear! I didn't want to see... Not that scene again!!!

I don't know when I lost consciousness, but I do know that waking up was painful. Now that the initial shock was over, I could feel all the unpleasant sensations emanating from almost my entire body. I didn't even want to see the state he was in. Seeing out of the corner of my eye so many bruises, wounds, cuts, and blood flows was enough to make me break out into a cold sweat.

My situation was very ironic! I'd left this room, thinking I'd be safe. And here I was again confronted with my own personal hell, the source of my first trauma. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come, much to my dismay. Too bad they could have taken away my stress and soothed me.

It wasn't long before I became aware of my other senses. First, the putrid smell of corpses. Decomposition seemed to have just begun. Not to mention the nauseating smell of blood, which triggered persistent bouts of vomiting and disturbing noises in my stomach.

And to top it all off, my hearing returned, granting me sounds of blood dripping, both from me and from around the room. At least it wasn't as maddening as the lamps. On the other hand, something intrigued me: where did the light in this room come from? Why was it so easy to see? One more supernatural thing to add. I was just one or two away from it.

Nevertheless, what indignant me the most was the touch. Having this sense was torture. After all, the ground, littered with slimy blood, bits of decomposing flesh, dead skin, and other unidentifiable things, was not my friend. And I had to crawl on it! With all my wounds and my own blood, I was already filthy and smelly, so I tried to convince myself that maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

I scanned the room apathetically. Ah, I understand... I was dissociating, and my mind had no room for new, intense emotions. My body was in tatters, and my mind was suffering from severe exhaustion. I no longer had the strength to even think of turning back. To go where anyway. I wasn't prepared to risk opening another door; I wasn't sure I'd survive.

Speaking of the door, I hadn't seen one the first time in this room. The bars were still there, with the same patterns, opposite the stage and stairs, with bodies and blood on the floor, walls, and ceiling. But that meant nothing; I could have been in another identical room.

I looked behind me... and nothing. The door had disappeared completely. In its place was a perfectly smooth wall. Only a rectangular area without a trace of either blood or body indicated that, at some point, there had been a door. I was stunned; I couldn't go back. And I had made my choice. To be sure, I had to reach the stairs and the stage.

I began to crawl with great difficulty to my left. My muscles, tendons, joints, and skin seemed to be tearing inside me. Occasionally, I'd even spit out a bit of blood from I didn't know where in my body, in between wheezes. Several times, my eyes darkened, forcing me to stop and rest my dying body.

But it was my achievement! The pride of accomplishment was the only thing that engendered a positive emotion: a sense of self-satisfaction. And this, despite all the blood and bits of flesh clinging to my body along the way. I raised my head in front of me...

And then, I was stunned; the book left alone on the base of the steps was still there, still calling to me, whispering to my soul to welcome it, use it, absorb it... I shook my head in all directions, realizing the attraction, infatuation, and the book's hold on me. Another mystery to solve, after all. But that would have to wait. I still had an action to perform.

I climbed the stairs, crawling with the last strength while dreading the fateful moment and... geometric shapes identical to my memories. I was not disappointed! I even seemed to have let out a nervous laugh that only the craziest of the craziest would have been able to accomplish. I was now convinced. This room was exactly the same! Fate was playing with me! It had to be this way!

Tears beaded down my cheeks as my face grimaced in madness, muscles and eyelids convulsing. I had just realized that all hope was lost. My hours, days or more of solitude had caught up with me. However, in reality, it wasn't loneliness that was destroying my psyche; it was insecurity. The whole atmosphere, designed to create unease and confusion, worked all too well on me.

But then, weary of fate's abandonment, I caught a glimpse of the enigmatic book. I'd had the distinct feeling that this whole place revolved around it all along. Even when I wanted to leave this place, I returned to the exact spot of the book. I thought this thought was the fruit of my illusions, but I've been confronted with so many supernatural experiences that this hypothesis could be probable.

A glimmer of hope sprang up in me. The book was the key to getting out of this place. I was convinced of it. And I had no choice; no other alternative existed. It was my only hope, even if I didn't know what action to take or what conditions to meet. No, I didn't. So, in doubt, I walked towards the book, deciding to do the only thing I knew how to do.

With my feet down, I tried to slide down the steps as best I could. I was certainly in a terrible state, with almost no strength left, but I didn't want to dig my own grave yet. Not now that I had a new goal, a new hope.

I contorted my body, grabbed the book with my fingertips, and gripped it with all my remaining strength. But that wasn't enough. I had to push my body beyond its limits to prevent it from slipping through my fingers. I finally triumphed just as my muscles gave out on me. I even heard a sudden sound that seemed to come from my shoulder: it had just dislocated.

The intense pain never came. Neither my shoulder nor the rest of my muscles caused me the slightest pain. Only a dull, distant ache reached me. I realized that my mind was so mired in fatigue that it no longer had the strength to properly inform me of the state of my body. Or it was dissociating automatically. And I didn't blame him; he'd already acquired enough overexertion from all previous experiences.

I had put the book on one of the steps, to my delight. At least I didn't have to look for it. Especially as I was now incapable of doing so. The muscles throughout my body barely responded to me and no longer contained any tone.

My physical body had ended, and my senses were all blurred. It was only now that I realized it. I was about to sink into eternal sleep with all the blood loss and general body fatigue. But I mustn't... I couldn't... give up!

Suddenly, I grabbed the book, determined to open it. I grabbed the clasp with both hands, but nothing happened. The mysterious force would not leave my soul.

However, I didn't give up; I just had to look for the Void of my soul. I breathed in gently and tried to concentrate. Earlier, I'd had to put my body to the test, and now it was my mind's turn to suffer my selfishness.

I tried to remember this sensation, this incredible, sweet sensation. The soothing, unbearable, exhilarating feeling of the Void. I called upon the Void and abandoned all willpower and all my soul's defenses. Only for the Void to respond by consuming my soul. A gargantuan outpouring of this state of Emptiness. Everything touched by this Void was cleansed and purified until it became this Void.

I was in a state of contentment, not absolute, but almost. I was close to losing all identity since the Void was my true identity. I knew this as if an ancient, forgotten memory of its own soul were manifesting itself anew and irrigating me with its knowledge.

But this state ended abruptly, ending my contemplation of the Void. A pity... I would have liked to have devoted myself more to the Void back then. I looked on, lost in thought until I had fully regained my senses.

I was surprised to see the clasp break into pieces. But that wasn't the most surprising part. No, the most astonishing thing was to be found on the front cover. Previously, it had been completely blank. Nevertheless, I could detect no understanding in my mind of the present inscription. Nothing was legible. Nothing except one word...

[System]

Yes, it was weird. I felt an odious impression inside me as I opened the book page. I felt a desecration of my soul. At the time, I thought it was just my imagination, but now I know the reality of my experience.

An experience I wish I'd never had. Even death would have been better than the implications of this event. In any case, the road to my ruin had insidiously begun without me even realizing it.

And this disturbing outrage pushed me further into unconsciousness. Nevertheless, before my mind lost all consciousness, I heard a distant, half-muffled voice:

"Identification... Sys... Access... Permission..."

"Magic... Level... Class... Level..."

"Interference... Failure... Adaptation... Solution..."

"Reset... Profile... Create... "

"Variable... Success... Failure... Adaptation..."

"Variable... Success... Failure..."

"Variable... Success..."

"Variable..."

"Var..."

" ... "

And these were the last words I heard before losing consciousness. Words that would remain engraved in my mind, so much had they transformed my soul and my destiny. Little did I know the price this action would cost me.

And that was my first encounter with the entity known as Système. And to my great sadness, not my last...