Aside from the ever-present fog, the hike down the only road here wasn’t too bad, and as I walked on and acclimated to the atmosphere, that initial dread I felt started to disappear. In fact, the sense of unease went away so quickly that I was starting to think that it was an induced state made by the Trash Matrix to unease the Aspirants; it was somehow using more of Noe’s abilities, so emotional manipulation didn’t seem like something that it couldn’t do.
“You are correct, my Host,” Noe answered, “The Trash Matrix has tried to manipulate the thoughts and emotions of the Aspirants to induce a feeling of paranoia, thus weakening the overall performance of everyone in the Trials, but I have cut off its influences, at least for you. It will not be able to affect you at all going forth. You should be fine in this Trial with your new Xollon Anatomy, my Host, it is well suited for this environment.”
Thanks, Noe, that’s good to know, especially if it means I have a leg up on the other group. Fighting fifty normal Aspirants would be hard enough, but maybe fifty paranoid and scared Aspirants might just be doable. Another thought entered my mind then. Does that mean you won’t have to alter my perceptions like last time?
“No, my Host,” she replied, “As I said, your Xollon mind will negate any corruptions that may affect a lesser mind. You will be safe here without my assistance.”
Sweet, that’s great.
In any case, I recovered quickly enough, and as that feeling of dread washed away I realized that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. There was no danger or anything out of the ordinary as I made my way further into the forest, although I suppose that was standard for these types of situations. There’s always a moment of safety and peace - to give the Aspirants a false sense of security or to simply create tension - before the real terrors come out to play, but until that moment happens, I enjoyed the clean air and peaceful night.
The quiet ambient sound of crickets chirping, and the distant sound of trickling water, coupled with the soft rustling of leaves provided a nice backdrop to my stroll, and the low howls of anguish in the background were quite pleasing to my enhanced Xollon senses. Even the smell of the forest reminded me of my date in Xolloid, although I couldn’t quite pinpoint what that familiar scent was. I took in a deep breath and whistled a happy tune as I walked along the quaint dirt path, careful to avoid the annoying splotches of blood and mud that threatened to dirty my shoes. I remembered how hard it was to get that stuff off my clothes back in the Hopsital.
Yeah, I liked it here.
By the time I reached the so-called Village the Trash System indicated, I was feeling more at ease and calm than I was back in the Main Stage. This place gave me the same feelings that the Hope’s Memorial had, and I smiled as I recalled my first time there. Sure, the darkness was ominous, and I’m pretty sure I saw a few figures with glowing eyes in my peripheral vision, but that’s kind of a given with these Trials. Whatever was out there hadn’t attacked me yet, or even showed any signs of malice so far, so all in all, I was enjoying this nature escape. I needed a little break after all that crap I dealt with!
I had to stop by the entrance of the Village proper, not because there was anything that stopped me from going inside, as there was only a simple wooden archway - well, it was more like three huge tree trunks arranged in an arch - that indicated the Village’s perimeter, but because I had to collect my thoughts and refocus on the Trial. The journey here had been so peaceful that I had started to daydream halfway through it, and that kind of carelessness wouldn’t do once I’m in unknown lands, even if I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t encounter any real danger for at least a little while longer.
So, I shook my head and tried my best to inspect the interior as best I could, although that everpresent fog made it impossible to survey anything with clarity past about a hundred meters in front of me. The first thing I saw was the signage. Carved deep into the wooden post was the simple message: KEEP OUT. I walked up to the structure and saw that it was covered with other scribbled writing, most of which were curses and the like, and none of which was very inviting. I think the message was clear, this isolated little settlement was not welcoming to outsiders.
I ignored it and walked through.
Immediately, I felt the air temperature drop, so much in fact that I could see my breath condense. Not only that, but the nostalgic smell was a lot stronger as well, and I felt as if hundreds of invisible eyes were on me. I shrugged at the smell and the feeling of being watched, I was used to that since I was constantly under surveillance anyway, but I did frown at the cold. You’d think that all the changes in my body would make me immune to something as simple as a drop in temperature, but I guess even Xollons needed to keep warm, so I took out my old Nemean cloak to put on, feeling warmth seep into my body again. It was a good thing I kept that old thing around, it was certainly useful.
Once I was well insulated again, I noticed something else that was strange. Gone were the ambient sounds of the forest, and the Village and its surroundings were blanketed with an unnatural silence. Even the sounds of my footfalls were dampened somehow as if the soundwaves refused to enter this space. I continued to walk further into the unnaturally quiet Village, taking my time to check out the old, seemingly abandoned log houses that lined the streets sporadically, but finding almost nothing of note.
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All of the homes seemed empty, the dirt roads were in clear disrepair, and the fencing and other miscellaneous objects seemed like they hadn’t been used in decades. Strangely enough, given the Village’s proximity to the woods, I had expected nature to reclaim a lot of the facilities here, but that wasn’t the case. The roads were free of fallen leaves, and almost no plants grew. I had considered calling out to see if there was anyone around but thought better of it. The other Aspirants didn’t look like they were near me, but I couldn’t afford to give my position away in case they were close by.
Instead, I continued to stroll around the empty, abandoned place, seeing if there was anything out of the ordinary - er, more so than normal in any case. This entire place was a ghost town, devoid of any life, and I was about to call it a day until, after almost an hour of exploration, I noticed a faint glow in the distance, obscured by the fog. I walked closer to it, more curious than fearful, but I was prepared for the worst in any case. As I approached closer, I saw an old, hunched-back man sitting on a wooden stool with a faint lantern in his hands, staring off into the distance, his face hidden behind unnatural shadows.
If this Trial was like the last one, then I was about to meet a local here, and I didn’t want to cause any undue harm if they were anything like the Director and her people. In fact, I wanted to make a good first impression to see if I couldn’t recruit them into rebelling against the Trash Matrix and its oppressive regime. I waved at the old man, but he didn’t respond.
I stopped a few feet away from him and concentrated, trying to sense if there was anyone else around me. There wasn’t any, which meant that I was safe from the other Aspirants for the time being. Good, that meant that I had some time to warm up to this individual and figure out some basic information about where I am, and most importantly, what kind of rules I was playing with. I needed some basic knowledge before I knew how to act further.
I smiled and addressed the villager. “Hello!”
No response.
I walked up closer, a smile on my lips, and repeated my greeting, louder this time and putting a bit of oomph into my voice. “Hello! How are you doing this fine night, good sir?”
This time he stopped staring off into the distance and turned his gaze to me. His face was wreathed in scar tissue as if it had been badly burned in an accident, and cataract-ridden eyes darted across my features as if studying my every move.
“You are not welcome,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, “Leave while you still can.”
While I still can? Well, there was something I could work with.
I moved closer and bent down to face him, my smile never leaving. “Sorry to disturb you, but can you tell me a little more about this lovely little village of yours? I know strangers are not welcome here, but I just couldn’t help coming in.”
“You are not welcome, outsider,” he repeated, “Leave now, or you may never do so again.”
I nodded. “I’d love to, and I really don’t mean to disturb you or the others, but can you answer one question from me first?”
The old man thought for a moment. “Speak.”
“Thank you,” I continued, “But what do you mean by leave while I still can?”
“The Moon will shift soon,” he answered with a dry laugh, “And when the time comes, the path out will cease to be. Leave while you still can, this is my last warning to you, outsider.”
Ah yes, more cryptic messages. Still, it was something I could work with. As I surmised, I was currently safe from whatever dangers the Village posed for now, but things would start in earnest when the moon shifted, whatever that meant. I could think of it like I was in the prologue of the Trial, just before the main event, which meant I had a little more time to find out about this place.
“Well thank you for the warning, good sir,” I said, “But do you get a lot of outsiders coming this way? Surely there’s a reason why you’re so unwelcoming.”
He stared at me, clearly confused by my seemingly random questions, but thankfully the old man decided to humor me and answer. “We are a close-knit community. Outsiders like you bring nothing but tragedy. You and your kind are not welcome. Leave!”
I sat down beside him and sighed. “I’m sorry for the troubles you’ve faced before, but I really do like it here. I must say, your village is beautiful - a little too cold for my liking, but it’s got that nice rustic charm to it. I think I’ll stay for a while, I’m sure if I explain my situation to your mayor or elder, then you’ll see that I’m not like the other outsiders.”
Now the confusion was really clear on the man’s face. If the outsiders as he called them were the other Aspirants like I think they were, then he’s probably never met someone quite like myself. In fact, if I was a regular Aspirant, I would have booked it out of here the second I saw the creepy old dude, although I’m certain that there are other dangers outside for the village. The Trash Matrix wanted us here for a reason, and I don’t think it’s simply allowing its pawns to hide in the wilderness.
“You are a strange outsider,” the old man conceded, “I have yet to meet one like yourself in all the years that I’ve served as the gatekeeper, but you will not have the chance to meet the Elder.”
“And why’s that?”
He gave me a crooked grin. “Because the entrance to our home is only open when the Moon shifts, and you will not survive for long when that occurs.”
“I see…” I muttered, “So this here’s not the real Village, or at least not the complete thing? But I really do want to meet your leader, so I’ll just wait it out if you don’t mind.”
“You are strange indeed,” he cackled as he raised his arms into the air, “But it is your funeral, and you won’t have to wait long. Do not say that I didn’t warn you!”
As if on cue, the fog that covered the entire town seemed to recede, and on the horizon, a crimson moon started to rise. Out of the primordial darkness it rose, its blood-red glow staining the landscape incarnadine, and the Village changed and morphed under its corrupting light. The very world itself shifted.