Sasha

---- Seventh Entry -----

The silence between Edgar and me felt fragile. He looked down, his eyes dark and heavy, and then he nodded. “First, you need to understand what a Savior's vigil really means.”

I thought I knew it, being raised on the stories of Chaos, of Saviors' sacrifices, unimaginable suffering beyond the Door, and their self-annihilation upon return. I knew most of them by name, by the worship humanity held for them. But something in Edgar’s face told me that I might not know everything.

I didn’t want to know more.

“The Door,” he began, “as you know, is a magical contraption covering the weak spot in the Wall, our world's protective barrier that keeps Chaos at bay. Every few decades, the Door’s magic depletes, and it needs time to recharge, to gather enough energy to hold him back.” His tone was detached, as though explaining the mechanics of a machine, but something in his face betrayed him. “During that time, a human has to be bound to it. Your body remains safe and intact in stasis inside the Door, while your soul... your soul is on the other side, and Chaos can reach it.”

I nodded. That much I knew, although in his explanations, it sounded clinical, and not sacred.

“So essentially,” he said, almost harshly, “You are a placeholder. Worse.” He stopped, inhaled sharply, and went on. “A scapegoat. That’s what you’ll be. A living sacrifice bound to a prison. Chaos will latch onto you, and he’ll know exactly why you’re there. He’ll take every ounce of his hatred, every bit of his rage, and he’ll focus it all on you. You’ll be the only thing he can reach.”

The dread and hatred in his voice echoed the terror building inside me. My hands felt numb, my whole body sinking under the weight of his words. He continued, unflinching, “He’ll use everything you are, everything you love, twist it against you. You’ll try to resist—you’ll have no choice but to fight. But every defense will be stripped away, and he’ll find new ways to tear you apart. Again and again, until there is nothing left.”

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? The air felt thick, suffocating.

Edgar watched me, his eyes so full of an ancient pain it seemed to crackle in the room. “And it’s not all, Sasha. The vigil… it’s not two decades for us. Chaos... Chaos is almost all-powerful. He can control time. He stretches it for you, drawing it out to an infinity. I am talking millions of years, Sasha. Hundreds of millions of years. Eternity. You’ll lose any sense of time, of reality. After a while, you won’t even know if anything exists beyond the pain.”

Eternity. The word shattered whatever numb shield I’d been trying to build. “But… people think it’s just… two decades,” I stammered, the enormity of his words a physical blow.

“Because I never shared this information with the public,” he replied, voice raw yet unyielding. “I... decided not to. What would it change? It would only make everything worse.” He sighed, and for a second, I thought about the weight this person—this hero—bore. Not just the weight of eternity but the whole world resting on his shoulders in ways I had never imagined.

But my mind was circling back to eternity. Eternal pain.

My stomach twisted, nausea rising like bile. Every horror I’d imagined paled in comparison. They’d sent people—saints, heroes, holy figures—to endure eternity under the gaze of pure hatred. And now, me.

“You’ll try to end it, Sasha. You’ll try to stop the pain, over and over.” His voice was low and steady, the words falling like hammer blows. “That’s why we all try to self-annihilate the moment we are back. We’ve tried for an eternity, and this is just the moment when it finally works.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He paused, his gaze darkening. “That’s why we lose them. Alaric… all of them. It’s not a choice, not really. It’s an instinct, a pull, a final release—the only thing that you can truly want, after you forgot what ‘wanting’ even means.”

I closed my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. My chest felt tight, my throat raw, the room spinning as I tried to grasp the horror of what he was telling me. They… they didn’t even understand they were finally free, did they?

Edgar spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “When you return… if you return, you’ll be shattered. But you will be alive, for a moment, at least. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you here, to hold you. There are ways—it did work for me; there is a chance. That’s all I can offer.”

“And if… if they all want to die, why don’t you just… let them?” I asked, barely able to form the words. “Why do you try so hard to make them survive?”

He closed his eyes, his face crumpling with an anguish that was almost unbearable to witness. “Because it’s the final cruelty—to lose everything, to suffer eternities, only to die the moment you’re free. If I can keep you alive, even just a part of you, it’s a way to defy him. To show him he hasn’t won. That he couldn't destroy you, after all.” His voice cracked.

The silence stretched between us. My mind felt numb, empty. But Edgar wasn't finished.

“But…” Edgar went on. “Maybe it is not worth it. Maybe it is better to finally end it.” A look of pure exhaustion crossed his face. “I’ve thought about it more times than I can count. Maybe it would be better to let him take us all, to stop the Cycle. To stop sending people—sending you—into this nightmare.”

The enormity of his confession settled over me, a moment of pure, raw honesty that left me breathless. Edgar, the legendary Savior, the head of the Anti-Chaos Coalition, the man who had dedicated his life to preserving humanity, was telling me that he doubted the very thing he was meant to protect. That he was willing to let it all end.

“But if Chaos wins, won’t he just… won’t he torture everyone? Forever?” I whispered, the absurdity of my own question startling me. How could I even think these things, let alone say it out loud?

Edgar sighed, his gaze distant. “He would. For as long as he could. But there’s a limit to what he can do to an ordinary person, to a human body. And physical pain is... limited. There’s a finality to death that he can’t overcome, at least not in the same way.” He looked at me, eyes dark with a pain I couldn’t fully understand. “With a Savior, there’s no end. The Door keeps you alive beyond reason, beyond mercy.”

A shiver ran down my spine, the words settling into a terrible understanding. Chaos wouldn’t just torture me; he would imprison me in suffering, an eternity without death. And Edgar… his words "physical pain is... limited" echoed in my mind. Edgar was immune to physical pain. It was a fact everyone knew, a detail that had always seemed terrifying but distant, but now…

I looked at him, truly looked, and felt my stomach drop. What had Chaos done to him? What would it do to me?

He watched me, his face shadowed with understanding and something close to pity. “I won’t tell you what to do, Sasha. This is your choice. Maybe… maybe it is better to let it all end. Some part of me... was relieved that we couldn’t find a candidate—couldn’t find you—for so long. But now… you are here.”

He meant it. If I chose not to go, he would accept it. No judgment, no blame. He would understand more deeply than anyone could. He seemed… almost hoping I would refuse the vigil. The realization chilled me to my core.

But I couldn’t choose that. Not when everyone I loved would be taken with me. I couldn’t abandon them to that fate. If I had to choose between eternity and the destruction of everything… I had to choose the vigil. And...

“It’s my best chance to survive, isn’t it?” My voice was barely a whisper. I’ll die anyway, won’t I?

Edgar nodded, sadness settling over his face. “It is. I’ll do everything to help you.”

And in that moment, I knew he meant it. I was terrified, shattered, but for the first time since I learned about my fate, I felt a flicker of something else—a determination to survive if only to defy the horror that lay ahead.

And if Edgar did it and became who he is today, maybe I also could.

So now you know why I chose it. I don’t know if you understand it, if you understand why I couldn’t make the other choice. Maybe you would prefer to let the world burn—especially now when you don’t remember anything about it. I won’t blame you for it. It is me who you should blame, after all. Because I will disappear, gone into this nightmare, this eternity, while you, you are the one who we try so hard to keep alive.

And if you are reading this, we succeeded.