It’s not that hard to commit suicide.
There are a billion methods to commit suicide without being a nuisance to the society and your own family, and I was perfectly aware of all of those methods. Among those a billion of methods, millions of them are painless. Some of them are slow but painless. Some of them are fast, so fast that I would not even comprehend the pain. It’s not that hard to commit suicide. It’s easy to off myself, but I wished that I could kill myself. I wished that I could erase myself from the plane of existence. Just myself. I wished that I could enter the void of the beyond. I wished that I could experience true nothingness.
And yet, that was not feasible, not for me.
I had no idea what’s going on inside his mind in those five days since neither of us spoke a single word in those mortifying days. Never had we experienced such quietness in our lives. Never had we experienced such calmness. I was quiet and still. So was he.
We made a single phone call to tell the police what happened in our lucid and calm voice. Neither shock nor angry nor grief, just plain cold unemotional. We did not tell anyone else about what happened. Not FY, not Alice, not our dad, not our adoptive relative, nobody. I did not make any phone call. Neither was Fearless. We spoke to no one.
For five days, we were like that. Silence and quiet, speaking not a single word, making not a single sound not in the reality or inside our mind. We were quiet, dead quiet. When we were asked a question, we stared. When questions came to us, we stared. The world was noisy for a while, and every once in a while it was filled with static noise, but silence would swallow them all. Silence would triumph. The world was quiet while Thùy Dương’s inanimate body was inside some obscure forensic lab located in somewhere we did not even know.
We were sleeping without sleeping, being awake without being awake, living without living and dying without dying. I was not sure what’s going on inside Fearless’ head, but I was trying to wake up from a dream, a dream of reality. I asked myself if I punched myself hard enough, I would wake up from that dream. I asked myself if I cut myself hard enough, Thùy Dương would be there and welcomed me home and everything that happened, those yellow tapes surrounding our villa and those trails of blood would disappear into the nothingness of dream, soon to be forgotten. And of course, I asked myself those what-if questions.
What if I would not wake up from this dream no matter how hard I punch myself?
What if things would be the same after I cut myself?
And tons lot of other what-if questions, a ton-lot of questions which I had never wanted to see them answered.
Then, people appeared before us with a warrant, telling us that they had undisputable shreds of evidence to claim that we were the one who ended the most beautiful dream of our life. Perhaps, I should not laugh with that hollow voice. But it would be stranger for me to not to laugh at such sheer ridiculousness of a comedy. It was the kind of comedy that one would rarely find in life. I laughed. The first sound that I made after those five quiet days was laughter. I laughed in the hollowest of a voice until hysteria took me. Perhaps, I should not readily present my arms to be cuffed in such manner. Perhaps, I should call for an attorney immediately to handle the absurdity of the situation. Perhaps, I should find comfort in the arms of my family. Perhaps, I should be angry. Perhaps, I should kick that person who presented that warrant to me in his nuts and slowly choke the life out of him. I knew what I should do and what I should not do. And yet, I just went on and did what I should not do.
Even at that time, I had no idea what’s going on inside Fearless’ mind. He spoke no word, still.
Sound lost its significance and human language has never been dumber. Blah blah blah. YADA. YADA. YADA. Oink OinK OINK. And I can only stare at such stupidity with a blank stare. The mind games, the good-cop & bad-cop routines, the confession games were even dumber. Comparing to Thùy Dương’s mind games, these were a joke. The hidden language of violence was even dumber. Violence was a special language, and it can be shocking, unnerving and terrifying to a non-speaker. To us, who could speak and command violence as if it was our mother tongue, violence that was spoken in obscurity and hints was dumb. But nothing dumber than the fact that an attorney has come to defend me. Neither I nor Fearless has requested an attorney. FY did that when he caught on to the news. That’s dumb. There was no need for an attorney. I could already foresee the future. I could already predict what will happen. That demon left false pieces of evidence at the scene to mock these agents of justice. There are only two more steps for that demon to do to keep mocking these people. The first step is to escape their reach. The second step is to show the proof to mock their stupidity. There was absolutely no need for an attorney.
I rejected meeting my father, FY, Alice and everyone else who tried to meet me.
“…break this bastard,” were first words that Fearless spoke since the time we made that phone call together. “What are you talking about? We have to avenge her. We have to make them paid,” his words were fury for what fury is worth.
I could not even mutter a reply. I could already see the future. The end of this dream, this waking nightmare. Therefore, he too must have seen it as well. And yet, he made such a strange choice. I could already see the future, but not this future. Fearless spoke such strange words. I could not even bring myself to ask him whether he had gone mad in those days.
If avenging Thùy Dương would bring her back, the both of us would have done that immediately when we found her cold body lying in that pool of blood. If breaking that demon would bring her back, we would not live those wordless and soundless five days like that. We would have already mobilized everything that we possess to find, catch and break that demon. If there were a method to bring her back, we would have already done that. If making a deal with Satan would bring Thùy Dương back, we would gladly do that.
I could predict not a single path that leads to such a future, a future where Thùy Dương would be there with us. There was no meaning to avenge Thùy Dương. There was no meaning to take the matter to our own hand.
Fearless should have understood that. Yet, he wanted to find and break that demon with his own hands anyway. He made a choice to blind himself with anger.
I looked at Fearless’ reflection through a drop of water on the wall, wondering if he could ever kill me and if I could ever kill him. I wondered if either one of us could do that. I don’t see another future. How else could I kill myself without killing him? How else could he off himself without killing me? We are one but two, and two but one. I wondered what’s going on inside his head at the time. Fearless was furious beyond reasoning. He had so much fury inside him that it was more than enough for the two of us. But his fury was perfectly contained within his unblinking eyes. Fury was the illusion that he cast upon himself.
It was just amazing to me that he managed to use that fury as his source of fuel. It was just amazing just how much strength he could get from being furious.
We were speaking to each other and yet we had never been more disconnected. We are one but two.
“I’m tired,” I told him. I’m tired of seeing my prediction come true. I’m tired of talking and arguing. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of living. “I’m tired,” I said, wishing that I could lose myself within the obscurity of my mind.
Closing my eyes and shutting ears from the world, I slept. Since Fearless refused to sleep until he made that demon paid. I slept enough of an amount for the two of us and even more. I slept while Fearless was awake. I slept while he, too, was sleeping. I slept through a bright day. I slept through a dark day. I slept on a happy day. I slept on an unhappy day. I slept through days that are neither happy nor unhappy. The longer I slept, the more tired I became, strange. The more tired I became, the more I slept. I slept, and slept, and slept and slept, and slept, and slept until a strange insomnia found me.
Since, I slept an insomniac sleep, neither sleeping nor waking. I was wide awake no matter how much I slept.
While he was swimming on that ocean, I dreamt a waking dream, a dream where I was neither alive nor dead, a dream where even the most fearless person could not confront the source of his fear, and yet, he still called himself Fearless.
“Fearless” is a very honest and confronting word, combining from two words, “Fear” and “less”. Fearless is a total absence of fear, and yet, one must know “Fear” first and then have “less” fear in order to be Fearless. And the only method to have less fear is to confront and conquer fear itself.
I did not name him Fearless. That was a name he chose for himself.
Inside this endless dream and timeless space, I slept an insomniac sleep of a sleep. He lived a lie of a life.
What are we even doing? I stared into the abyss, waiting for the abyss to stare right back at me. You know you have done something wrong when the abyss refuses to stare at you. I kept staring, wondering why the abyss had not come to take me away.
Insanity is a cure, not a sickness. The abyss is an asylum, not a torture cell. A torture room is what lucidity is.
Death was such a disappointment.
The thought that Death was not the end. The thought that Death was not the void and the nothingness. It was such a huge disappointment. Must I embrace Sanguine to be saved? I was disappointed.
Death was a huge disappointment.
Fearless, too, was disappointed.
If Mistress Death, the aspect of death and destruction had a humanoid form, she is no longer an object of fear. If Mistress Death showed up while gloating her beautiful form, her beautiful dress, and beautiful voice, she must have an ego. She must have emotions. She must have pride. Therefore, she can be manipulated. If Death could lie repeatedly, she must be uncomfortable with something, therefore, she could be exploited. And just because she can be manipulated and she can be exploited, it doesn’t mean she should make it easy for Fearless to pull a fast one on her like that.
Fearless was planning on declaring war on both Kharigan and Coeles at the same time. Uncompromising as ever, stupid, not that I would blame him. Not that I could stop him. Not that I have the strength and the strength to tell him to quit it.
I was staring at that notification screen the whole time.
+16.1 unread messages.
That’s a lot of unread messages, with my back resting against the bottom of the lightless abyss, I closed my eyes, continuing to sleep my waking sleep.
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There are tons of reminders among the notifications. I dug them up, till the last one.
* August 05, 2072. Reminder: ROC World Cup begins. CHAMPIONSHIP OR NOTHING.
* July 01, 2072. Reminder: Craxus Major begins in a week. Practice.
* June 19, 2072. Reminder: Misery’s birthday. Pretend to forget it until 23.00.
* June 17, 2072. Reminder: Be at the airport at 8.00 pm.
* June 01, 2072. Reminder: Thùy Dương’s death anniversary.
* May 27, 2072. Reminder: Airport 9.30pm.
* May 22, 2072. Reminder: Crashing Merleon’s place. Make sure it crashed.
* May 21, 2072. Reminder: Be at the airport at 7.00 pm. Bring souvenirs and gifts.
* May 19, 2072. Reminder: Alice’s birthday, be sharp.
* May 01, 2072. Reminder: Reserve V.I.P seats for the ROC World Cup. Book tickets + hotel.
* April 29, 2072. Reminder: Be at the IRIS at 8.00 am to get the roses. Pick dad up and visit mom.
* April 28, 2072. Reminder: Pre-order a red rose bouquet.
Even with a manager by our side, things could get out of control in a quick hurry. The two of us were such a mess. So, we made reminders ahead of time to keep our priorities straight.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
I stared at the reminders, wondering if there were any meaning in showing these reminders to either one of us, Fearless or me. Is this your attempt to rub salt at our wounds? I knew that I would better off not reading these notifications.
And yet, I had no idea why. Sometimes, you don’t need a reason to do something. I should be asleep right now, not reading unnecessary stuff. Can you even sleep inside a dream? I kept reading and sorting out the notifications, hoping that a true sleep would come to me soon. But then since we met Death, I could not sleep for a wink.
…
I saw news and articles among the notifications. Quietly, I sorted them out, reading them from the most recent written to the oldest.
* Phúc “Fearless” Đ. Bạch, the Prince of The Alliance inducted to the ROC HOF. Feng “FY” Yi shared a shocking emotional secret.
…
* A secret side of the Prince of The Alliance that you will never believe.
* The Alliance, where are they now?
* Is the current AG as good as The Alliance back then?
* 10 Reasons why The Prince of The Alliance will always be the GOAT in the world of ROC?
* 10 Unanswered Questions Surrounding the circumstances of the Prince’s Death.
A bunch of clickbait and fake news as usual. I could not help but internally complained. And yet, I still read all of them from the beginning to the end.
* The Alliance was sold to A.G their biggest rival in the last five years for $1.57 billion.
* The END of a Dynasty, The Alliance disbanded.
* All current active members of The Alliance declared Retired in an interview.
* “No Fearless, no The Alliance,” said Alex “Misery” Mckay in an interview with ROC Esports news.
* Feng “FY” Yi, the current co-owner of THE Alliance has declared his retirement from the player and team captain position.
* Without their ace, what is the Future for The Alliance?
* Police suspect that the Prince was killed.
* Phúc (Fearless) Đ. Bạch, The Prince of The Alliance is confirmed dead by his friends and family. Police are currently launching an investigation.
* [Not Fake News] Phúc “Fearless” Đ. Bạch, The Prince of The Alliance has died.
If it was Fearless and not me, he would probably be crying right now. He would probably cry my share as well. And that’s probably for the best. At least, he can cry.
One needs strength to grief and to cry. Without strength, one could not cry.
These days, I could no longer cry. It was like I have already forgotten how to cry. I could not even remember when the last time that I cried was.
Lethargically, I wade through thousands of unread news and articles that related to me and The Alliance. The last one was, (Phúc “Fearless” Đ. Bạch was found dead at a bar) written on the 1st April 2072. Because it was written on an April Fool day, almost nobody took it seriously.
Then, my eyes were caught by an email’s title, “To my little brother”. FY was the sender.
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To my little brother,
To be honest, I’m not quite sure what the hell I am doing. Two years ago, some moron from your cult started a “Letter to Fearless” event and now it was somewhat a huge deal.
I know that it’s weird and kind of late now. But, heck, I might as well write you one since everyone is doing the same thing. Better late than never.
I’m not sure if “How’s it going for you?” is a proper question for this moment. Anyway, how is it going for you? I hope that you have stopped being a nuisance to people around you. I hoped that you have found your peace…
What am I talking about here?
If you cannot tell, I’m sighing right now. I don’t know how to write this kind of letter. So spare me.
Last week, we were inducted to the ROC HOF. All four of us, Misery, Fantasy, Merleon and me. I was the only one who had the honor to be a first ballot Hall of Famer though. The league was kinda stingy, I guess. Yesterday, everyone was there for your induction to the HOF. Technically, you are in the same class as us, but oh well. The league originally planned to do our induction ceremony together, but everyone wanted to make it a special occasion. You are inducted to the HOF with a statue and as a statue. Bro, you just have to set a precedent for everything, don’t you? I wish I could tell you that face to face.
I have already put ROC behind me to spend more time with A Ming now. It has been three years. No coaching, no team management, nothing too ROC-related, nothing too stressful and too competitive. Though, once in a while I still have to appear and participate in ROC events.
My kid is two now. Yeah, I had a kid, a boy. He’s the cutest angel the world.
You are supposed to be his godfather. Can you guess his name?
Yeah, it’s not Fearless. No big surprise here.
A Ming told me that naming our child with your name would only make him growing up as disagreeable as you. At least, I tried once, lol.
His name is Feng tiān, the Tiān of heaven. Hopefully, he would grow up more agreeable than you.
Everyone is doing well.
In her own way, Alice is doing well. Nothing crazy, nothing stupid, nothing out of the line. She’s healthy and all. She smiles a lot. Last years, she took a year off from her work and traveled around the world. She’s still having that bob cut for three years now. She could not grow her hair longer than that. So I guess that she has not really over you. It takes more than time, I guess.
Your dad recovered. I meant he went out with a coma for a while but he’s back with us now. A bunch of your exes came out of nowhere and are taking turns taking care of him now, more like your self-proclaimed wives, crazy bunch, the lot of them. Even your dad said so.
They were barring Alice from contact with your dad as much as possible. They were honestly a nuisance of a bunch. Why were you dating them? Honestly!!!
Your dad is doing well. Physically, he’s okay and healthy, more than ever. Emotionally, it would take some more time. I bought a ticket to his concert a few months ago. I’m not into classical music or I am a musician but it was honestly an amazing experience. I cried while sitting on my seat. It’s like he took all of his pain into his songs. He’s amazing.
Oh, Merleon got married last year. Big marriage, everyone was there. You know… his circle is huge and most of them were fighters. We were like … fishes out of water… when we were there as his best men. But it went on well. Fantasy pulled a last minute prank but nobody dies.
Fantasy opened a fashion shop last year as well. Believe it or not, his clothes sold well. I think I’m getting old. I don’t understand where fashion is going, like at all.
Misery is still doing Misery’s stuff, you know, the usual thing. He’s not going to change. I doubt that he would find a girl and settle down any time soon. But well, he’s happy and well, and that’s for the best. He’s the only one among all of us who is still actively playing ROC now, though not competitive. Just for streaming, smurfing and fun.
You may not believe it but he’s doing the “If you cannot beat me, do you think you can beat Fearless?” kind of things on his stream every time he won a match. It was meant to be a joke. It started out as a joke, but now even Superior was doing that at the All-star events. Everyone started taking it seriously. It became a meme now. URLOX also joined in and created that emoticon to chat box. So, Misery took credit for starting that meme. Kinda insane, but, I guess that’s just Misery being Misery.
Speaking of ROC, there is a Fearless character in the world of ROC now. He even had his own campaign mode. No idea what URLOX were thinking when they implemented you into their story. But the fans celebrated it… I heard that your character was crazy broken in the Multiplayer mode during the tests, so he would not appear on the competitive scene any time soon whether the fans were begging it or not.
Superior is still playing. Crazy. 35 and still playing. I know. He’s not exactly in his top form, but yeah, he’s still an All-star. Recently in an interview, he was telling everyone that he would keep playing until he hit 40. I have no idea if he was joking or not.
Nightmare and S0rrow have retired now. “For real this time,” they said, “No more coming back after retirement.” I don’t hang out with them much other than the usual annual gathering. So, I don’t know what they are up to now.
Orithyia is still doing well. Just signed another five years contract with ROC Esports News, so I have heard. She’s still enjoying doing her job. But once in a while, she would complain that things have become less controversial and crazy without you. It’s good and fine but she said that it was boring.
We are doing well. Everyone is moving on in their way, even me. So, rest well, little brother. I hope you find peace in the world beyond.
To be honest, I don’t know what else to write here, little brother.
I miss you. A man knows not how something is important to him until he lost it. I miss you a lot, little brother. I really do.
It’s just crazy that you are no longer here with us. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel real. Perhaps, I’m getting old and this is what is getting old feels like. Perhaps, I am just a sentimental old man clinging to the glory of his past.
Back when we first met, I was just a dream chaser. I just wanted to be me, doing my own thing and not the things that people were telling me to do. I just wanted to do the things that I like. I just desperately wanted to prove that I was right all along. I was not prepared to admit that I was wrong.
And you, you terrified me since. You knew that I was spouting nonsense. You knew that I was putting up a bravado, and still you followed me. You look at me with eyes full of admiration. So, I had to do everything to match up to your admiration. I had to be every bit of a man worthy of your admiration. You had no idea how tough that was for me. But, I am glad that I did not disappoint you.
We had the craziest run. Our path was full of weird things, full of twists and turns, and full of up and down. Looking back, I’m glad that we had each other during those crazy moments. I’m proud to have you by my sides during those times.
It felt crazy when we announced our retirement together and you were not there with us. It doesn’t feel real that you are no longer with us. Even now.
In the case you don’t know, my eyes are a little bit misty right now and I could not even see the keyboards. Forgive me, I know not what I am writing.
I don’t know if there is a world beyond this or not. But I hope this letter would find you.
I sincerely pray that you would find rest and happiness in the world beyond this. I sincerely pray that the world around you would be a kind world.
I love you, little brother.
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No, FY, the world has not become kinder at all.
I have no idea what am I experiencing.
Is this sadness? Is this pain?
I have no idea. Sometimes, it was hard to understand my own emotion since I have stopped feeling for such a long time.
I almost felt like I could cry again. I felt like tears could come out of my eyes. I felt like I would know what it was like to howl out the pain inside my chest again.
And yet, it was just an illusion.
I could speak no word. I could make no sound. I could shed no tear.
It was then that Fearless came to meet me for the first time since we were separated.
“Hey,” he greeted cheerfully, “Aren’t you already sick of this scenery? There is nothing down here. Do you want to come with me for a change? I just learned that we can do a lot of crazy things in this world.” His voice was almost nonchalance and worry-free. And yet, I can sense his invisible rage.
What happened? I tried to ask, but no word came out today as well.
Fearless kept talking. He talked a lot. These days he talked more than enough words for the two of us. He has just created a world within this dream. His power in this dream went as far as his imagination took him. Fearless told me that he has locked down every single foreign soul inside this dream from leaving it, and yet, they had not realized it.
What happened? I asked. Not a single sound came out.
Fearless was a ball of strength, and I could not help but wonder if all of this strength of his came from rage. He kept talking and laughing as if he was in the prime of his life. And yet, we both knew that his words were false. Even inside this dream, our ears worked fine.
Then words ran out and quietness took over Fearless, not for long.
“These brainless morons did not heed my repeated warnings. They made light of my warnings. I will make them paid,” he restated what I have already known.
I already knew what he would do when he took the length of four days to end Bloodbeard and his army. He could have ended them in two days but it took him four days to do that. Those extra two days were used to devise strategies to deal with these Demon Lords, gods and goddesses just case his warnings were ignored.
And now, it was already obvious that they did indeed ignored his warnings.
As uncompromised as ever, I sighed without sighing.
In the entire history of the ROC universe, there had been countless morons. Atheists who denied the existence of their gods and goddesses. A pervert who slapped Niwdar’s asses while she was disguising in her mortal form, and got turned into a Faun. A bunch of morons who refused to be a champion for the Demon Lords. And many more.
And yet, my other half is about to become the biggest moron in the history of morons by waging a war against the children of Naharis, all at the same time. And it’s not like he possessed powers to warp reality or miracles to combat their miracles or legions of demons to aid him. All that he had at the moment were a bunch of concepts, a bunch of theories, a bunch of ideas, but nothing solid. Still, he was dead set on war.
What a moron! Not even the Monkey King challenged the heaven when he has no power.
“I will declare war on all of them. And if they want peace, they have to come to me and beg me for it,” he informed me, and then said the familiar words. “If you want to stop me, stop me now.”
There is just no way that I could stop him. I had no strength to cry. I had no strength to talk, let alone stopping him. And Fearless should have already known that.
Still, he talked. “I’m about to commit the worst genocide in the history. And for what? To protect myself and my memory. That was the most selfish reason ever. I am about to blow up Kharigan to kingdom come. Other than Flokí and Munezee, all of these Demon Lords’ immortality came from their connection with the red moon Kharigan. It’s in the lore. So I figured that I might as well try to see how true it is. A bunch of demon folks are about to be wiped out. After that, we will fight our mettle on Escana. A lot of people are going to die and it is on me. Don’t you want to stop me? Just one word and I will stop it right now.”
Have you read the letters yet? I asked him. I wonder if FY’s letter could stop Fearless from combatting insanity with insanity and stupidity with stupidity. Fighting poison with poison aside, fighting injustice with injustice aside, fighting fire with fire aside, combatting insanity with insanity and stupidity with stupidity should not be an option. Fearless should have understood that, and yet, I could not understand why he would try to do it like this. Our eyes were mirroring at each other and yet, we were not communicating at all.
“I figured,” Fearless said, wearing a crestfallen smile. “That’s a quality talk.”
No, we are not talking, like at all.
Fearless left, back to his dreamland, preparing again.
Here I am, in the bottom of the abyss reading letters while my other half is preparing himself to fight a war that he had no confidence of winning.
What a mess!