Should I laugh or cry? We'd been close to death twice today. And if, as I thought, we were fighting the weakest humans in the world, then I didn't dare imagine what monsters the others must be. I prayed we'd never come across any because if we did, it was certain death.

In any case, I could only wait in the middle of this etheric landscape for my apostle's body to be regenerated. However, there was one element of this process that puzzled me. I wanted the Void to revitalize a body, but didn't that cost an incredible amount of energy? Of course, the Void feeds on the energy of certain corpses to survive. But even if I counted all that energy, I was way off.

What's more, with each use, the Void grew stronger and stronger, consuming more and more energy to maintain itself. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't understand where the missing energy came from. Even if the debuff could take energy away from us to feed the Void, it could only feed it for a little while, but not for ten years, for example.

When I spent years at the Refuge, my Void could only rely on its reserves. I didn't understand how it could be otherwise. Especially since the debuff was more a degradation of energy than a transfer of it to the Void. In other words, we still had the same amount of energy in the body, except that a certain amount seemed unusable.

So, allocating it for data storage or writing algorithms was impossible. As a result, the debuffs coming from the Void reflected a natural loss of information. I wondered what all this meant about the Void's true nature and, by extension, my own. What was I really? What was my natural place in the World? Above all, did my existence have a purpose here? If so, what?

What exciting and vital questions! Sadly, on the day I was finally able to answer them, I wondered whether this was the best thing that had ever happened to me. In retrospect, I could only think that my younger self was naive and that the answer to such questions could bring good news. And even today, did I really make the right choice?

To be quite frank, this question is also one of the reasons why I'm writing my memoirs, although the primary reason remains for you, my successor. After all, with the end of my adventures in the World, my vision of past events has become more global, and I can now stand back and analyze them. Or at least I'm trying to because feelings don't disappear overnight.

I could have waited longer for these emotions to die down and have an even more objective view of my past actions... but I couldn't wait. Which is ironic, given the truth revealed by my former past. But hey, everything ends, even an eternal, unchanging Void. However, I'm still rambling, so let's forget that story for now and focus on the pressing issues of my past version.

The questions about my Identity that had been nagging at the back of my mind since the day I woke up were getting louder and louder. So much so that I began to dislike this place despite the warm, comforting presence of my Void. If only this incessant buzzing could stop! Fortunately, this wish was soon granted, replaced by a horrible pain from deep within me.

I was hungry and wanted energy. It was my thoughts, my Void, or both of us. On the other hand, I knew what I had to do to satisfy the Void, at least for a while. I had to kill people. A simple solution at first sight, but a pernicious one in reality.

Because to absorb people into the Void, I had to use Our Will, with the Void's energy, without adding mana. However, whether in the short or long term, this would only result in my death. So I had to learn to resist this instinct, at the risk of the Void becoming uncooperative or resigning myself to death. Neither of these alternatives sounded good, and I sincerely hoped to find a third option in the future.

Nevertheless, for the moment, I could feel the pain diminishing as my consciousness re-emerged into the world of the living. With an arduous opening of the eyes, our first image was of shades close to black, with a few trickles of light in the interstices. So we were still buried in the rubble... Or so we thought at first.

In fact, we'd instead have found ourselves in such a situation because the rubble doesn't have bars, does it? With a shocked and confused look, my sister hurriedly scanned the whole foul-smelling room. I could only follow her movement and try to understand where we were. It was a foregone conclusion: we'd been imprisoned, probably by accomplices of those we'd killed.

The only worry was that I swore I'd only caught sight of three enemies. Unless others were hiding from my senses, using scrolls, for example. Were there any spells that specialized in tracking? I thought greedily; if so, I had to get hold of them. Even if, for the time being, all I could feel was my sister's frantic heartbeat and her too-calm breathing.

I couldn't blame her, as it took all my willpower not to despair. I definitely hated unfamiliar situations and sudden changes. However, to my dismay, I felt that I had no freedom of choice today. Why had I thought going to the upper world was a good idea? Frankly, I wanted to slap myself in the face for having had such a thought.

But the worst part of the situation was undoubtedly the long, suffocating wait in that dark, squalid prison. The hours that passed without us being able to do anything other than remain uncertain about our future and the lack of knowledge about the enemies' intentions were enough to give us severe stomach cramps. After all, we were unable to escape.

Indeed, my apostle was still recovering from his wounds, having only woken up when the Void had healed him sufficiently for his days no longer to be in danger. Her wounds were large enough to pin her to the ground, and at most, my sister could only sit up with pain and difficulty.

In general, her whole body was screaming in agony at having been so severely battered just before, crying out for a rest that we couldn't give her. Because if my sister listened to her body, we wouldn't be able to get out of here and face our captors. This time, I had no doubt that her body would take days to recover, the Void's revitalizing power waning as my apostle's case became less desperate.

Thus, the Void's regeneration was most suitable for desperate circumstances. But when we went outside, its usefulness waned, leaving us severely weakened and at the mercy of the natives. I wondered whether the Void could repair another mortal wound during the recovery phase of the previous injury. Could it repair mortal wounds within minutes of each other? Or was it?

I shuddered at the thought, wishing I'd never experienced it with all my heart. And so it was that almost half a day passed, in revolting helplessness, before my apostle's limbs healed sufficiently to walk on all fours. We were then able to take a closer look at our cell and see that there was nothing of interest... apart from the excrement, piss, and... blood that stained the walls.

I thought it best not to imagine the events that had once occurred here; our sanity was at stake. But without this distraction, we could only stare at the rusty, dusty bars. Nevertheless, despite their worn appearance, they were surprisingly solid, not flinching at any of our pathetic blows.

All we managed to achieve was a stabbing pain and the creation of multiple bruises. It was a pity because I'd have loved to get out of that room just to escape that indescribable stench of musty air. It almost reminded me of the smell of substances I'd encountered before, but mixed differently, as if we were close to a place where noxious products were manufactured or stored.

Fortunately, our ordeal was not prolonged, as footsteps were heard until we faced our assailant. On the other side of the bars was a tall human with an intimidating gaze and a slightly weary expression. At least this one wasn't a sadist, I thought lightly. It was more like a job.

Besides, was our captor in cahoots with our enemies, or had they commissioned him to capture us? Either way, part of me wanted to pity him, for he would soon pass away... we'd quickly make sure of that. Even if, at first glance, he didn't seem evil, given his aura of spite and boredom.

On the other hand, his actions left me with many questions and misunderstandings. If this human didn't seem to have any hope for the future, why was he still alive? Why am I not the same? Why? Why!? Why!!! To this day, I can't find satisfactory answers to these haunting whispers, a question that haunted me for a long time without me understanding why.

But I had no time to collapse into tears in my mind or even to salute the abyss of my Void as the big fellow took my sister in his arms to certainly transfer us to our opponents. As the human strolled through the long corridor as decrepit and unsanitary as the interior of our cell, I briefly remembered, amid my emotional torment, to evaluate the accomplice.

Evaluation skill screen ❢

Age〖 14 〗｟ Max: 15 ｠

Permission〖 Lvl. 2 〗

Class〖 Apprentice 〗

Magic 〖 F- 〗

Authority〖 Lvl. 2 〗

And this evaluation was surprising, to say the least, in several respects. First, the maximum age was more remarkable than that of the city's landfill, meaning no doubt that this variable depended on Class and/or Magic. Or even other parameters inaccessible to people from the lower world. Incidentally, the people here have Apprentice Class.

Secondly, the Permission level was 2, unlike any person from the world below. Did Permission level depend solely on the world to which one belonged, or could it evolve on other occasions? Above all, did Authorization function in the same way? Interesting as these questions were, I turned my attention to a point that left me doubtful.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Indeed, I had to end with the best: Authority and Magic. While the F- Rank seemed natural for Magic since we were in a superior world, Authority raised severe doubts in me. After all, the holder of the magic revolver also had this level of Authority.

Although I had no doubt that he was affiliated with people from this world, the fact that he possessed a higher level of Authority than any gangster in the dumped city shook some of my certainties about the System. Indeed, I had naively imagined that the System restricted certain levels of certain variables, such as Authority, Authorization, or Class, to certain worlds.

However, this was clearly not the case. After all, I had to put things into perspective because the holder was the only one in this situation I'd come across so far, and his case was the result of a sleight of hand or an ingenious use of the System's little-known laws. Ingenious because, for the moment, I had the impression that this kind of case was rare, if not exceptional.

I'd have liked to keep digging, but we'd reached our destination, where an imposing-looking, falsely smiling human scrutinized us with his eyes before chatting with our captor. I didn't venture to ask my apostle about the conversation, as I wanted to avoid further arousing the interest of this untrustworthy individual or the group to which he belonged. On the other hand, there was one overriding thing I had to do.

Evaluation skill screen ❢

Age〖 17 〗｟ Max: 20 ｠

Permission〖 Lvl. 2 〗

Class〖 Apprentice 〗

Magic 〖 F- 〗

Authority〖 Lvl. 2 〗

Much to my chagrin, the result wasn't as exciting or revealing as I'd hoped. The only variable of interest that changed was the maximum age. Thus, the inhabitants of this town had several possible longevities, a first since this was obviously not the case in the dump town. This only made me wonder about the highest lifespan usually attainable here.

Aside from these new questions, I could only watch helplessly as we changed kidnappers, being offered to this new enemy as if we were everyday objects. Strangely enough, I was seized by a strange feeling at that moment, as if my dignity had been sullied. But I couldn't dwell on it any longer as the number of enemies multiplied.

Indeed, no sooner had we exited through a secret passage and descended the stairs, obviously not reassuring me about the strength of our enemies, than several worrying-looking people were waiting for us. My concerns were echoed by my sister's slightly disturbed breathing and livid face.

The steady gaze of all these new people could only reinforce these impressions, so much so that I felt my sister swallow, as she seemed to feel uncomfortable by the many scrutinizing glances. Strangely, however, there was no malice in them, just as there was no malice in the facial expressions of the whole group. This discrepancy between our current treatment and their possible intentions left me pensive.

Fortunately, our kidnappers turned their attention away from us, preferring to talk about us. I didn't even want to ask my apostle, as I didn't think it would be much fun to see his demoralized expression as they chatted. But our respite was short-lived, for once again we were manhandled when these people decided to throw us into a van like a bulky sack of garbage.

The sight of this means of transport left us a little stunned, for although we'd met some of them before, we could only count the number of encounters we'd had on the fingers of one hand. To say that rare was an understatement and meant that whoever ordered our capture had to be powerful.

Before being sent to the back of the vehicle, I scanned the Statuses of everyone present. But I discovered nothing more, except that everyone had the same longevity, making me wonder whether society, at least within this world, was structured according to lifespan. Nevertheless, this required everyone to possess at least an essential assessment skill.

As I pondered apprehensively the possibility of our enemies seeing our Statuses, I could only catch sight of two captors, who scrutinized us with impassive expressions, ready to draw their scrolls. While the other four must have been at the front. In any case, I had to congratulate our enemies, as they seemed very careful with us.

I had to face the facts: they knew at least part of our powers and my apostle's physical weakness since they had hardly tied our limbs together. Our only hope was to find out just how much. We wandered around the city, bored by the long journey, which lasted several days.

We could never leave, having to remain in an enclosed space with increasingly questionable smells and appalling air quality. This state of affairs also bothered our captors. So, I suggest Systalia negotiate with our guards to open the vehicle and let in some fresh air.

But, as we had already guessed, more was needed to prevent them from carrying out their mission. They didn't even deign to answer my apostle, so we couldn't expect much more from them. Nonetheless, we had to get out of there as quickly as possible before we were confronted by opponents of an even higher caliber.

Although I was very anxious, the situation could have been more desperate. At least if we executed our plan at the right moment and quickly enough. We had the opportunity to do just that on the fourth day, as we witnessed the rotation of our supervisors. Indeed, our guards took turns every eight hours, presumably to feed and rest.

Typically, the door is open briefly, giving a glimpse of the gloomy, narrow corridor the van had been entering for days. The next ones always come immediately after the former supervisors have left, preventing our discreet extraction from the vehicle. But today, something changed, and the next salvo of supervisors was slow to appear, leaving the door ajar.

Of course, there was every chance that it was a trap, but if we hadn't jumped at the chance, we might never have been able to get out of the vehicle before we arrived and would have bitterly regretted it. Of course, we weren't so naive as to think they'd leave us alone once we were out. So we prepared a little surprise they would always remember.

Moreover, our captors hadn't confiscated The Book, either through negligence or, far more alarmingly, through knowledge of the side effects on someone unworthy of holding it. In fact, the use of Void's energy, even employing my magic, was not something I wished to carry out because of the irreversible side effects. But we had no other choice.

After all, we had no more scrolls, and our kidnappers might have some anyway. What's more, the alternative of facing enemies too demanding for us seemed incredibly more threatening than any consequences to our statistics, even irreversible ones.

After a final prayer in my mind, I confirmed the start of the plan's execution to my apostle, who promptly stood up and stepped onto the scratched metal of the van without making a sound. A final breath from Systalia marked our crossing the threshold of the van door. Once outside the stuffy-looking vehicle, we could hear the voices more clearly as we descended.

Our suspicions were confirmed by the shouting and fighting between two of our enemies and the attempts of the others to calm them down. So we thought we'd sneak away while they were busy fighting. But this hope didn't last long, for no sooner had we walked a few yards through the infamous slush they dared to call "soil" than one of them spotted us.

It didn't take long for the others to come to their senses and run towards us. This tactic was good since I needed time to call Our Will or simply my magic. Nevertheless, I could very well prepare Our Will in advance, even if containing Our Will was as complicated for me as it was for my apostle.

Indeed, Our Will used Systalia's body to incarnate on the physical plane. Systalia, therefore, had to try at all costs to contain it in her body with my help, even if this was an exceptionally arduous task. That's why this is the first time we've done it. I wouldn't have had time to invoke it under normal conditions before our capture.

Of course, I could still manifest Our Will even if our opponents restricted our movements. However, his invocation lasted almost ten seconds, in extreme concentration. If this broke down, I'd have to start again for another ten seconds and the time needed to achieve sufficient concentration.

Of course, there was an exception when my emotions became extreme. For example, if we were close to death and/or I was witnessing the end of my apostle, my fighting spirit and despair could overcome the limitations and send Our Will without delay. But in this case, rather than trying to master it, I would be entirely overwhelmed by it.

As everything has a cost in the World, the price of speeding up Our Will's activation translated into a drastically higher-than-average loss of stats. Or, in the most extreme cases, add an inherent ability with adverse effects. The latter could be the combined effect of instant activation and pushing back limits.

In short, to avoid these inconveniences, I wanted to acquire a way of activating Our Will without immediately showing it to the World. So today was the real-life test of this improvement. And it was going to be quick. Having lasted only ten seconds, we finally expelled Our Will from my apostle's body, ready to impose its Authority on the World.

In the end, in the absolute contrast of a kaleidoscope divided between intoxicating blackness and phlegmatic whiteness, nestled the madness that lurked in each of us, ready to reveal itself to the World. At last, it could manifest the purest perversion of its owners. All they could do was try in vain to resist this intrusion.

However, much to the dismay of these sinners, the Void was a ruthless and voracious entity, even swallowing up the World if the mood took it. But who knew if it was the Void's Desire or mine? Above all, was such a distinction even necessary? In any case, nothing was able to exist before him, and nothing would be able to exist after him. Not even Death. This was the only Truth transcending all times and places.

Thus ended three of the aggressors, with a gaping void as the only witness to their existence. Where there should logically have been corpses or even dust, proof of the Void's insatiable appetite.

But I hadn't finished the massacre, for two assailants were still in the vicinity. A little further away from us, they hadn't been caught in the effects of Our Will. But it didn't matter because I had also prepared my magic beforehand. So I could cast it as soon as Our Will returned to the limbo of me and my Void.

The last expression these humans had before the domination of their murderous madness was dread and desolation. They all wore the same expression before the liberation of their darkness, I mused with a hint of satisfaction. Moreover, a most intriguing idea crossed my mind about the reason for the terror at the sight of my Void. Were my Void and I so abnormal and abject in the eyes of the World?

Unfortunately for the World and its inhabitants, I didn't intend to change because the Void was my whole being. At least, that's how I perceived it. So I could never imagine separating myself from the Void because otherwise, I'd have no Identity. Even if logic dictated that this was paradoxical. How could the Void be one when it was the rejection of all Identity by its very existence?

In any case, I couldn't continue these pestering reflections to the point of driving myself mad, for, as always, my apostle and I were caught in the veil of the unconscious. My last feelings were a mixture of relief at having used this warm energy and anguish of unknown origin.

Indeed, my unconscious was remembering. That day, I had made a colossal mistake. Excited by this exhilarating energy that belonged to my tender Void, I had forgotten the number of opponents... five dead for six enemies...