Alan stood stunned from shock at his realization. Relecta, initially confused by Alan's whispering, suddenly saw Armis emerge from the hazy steam.
His voice overshadowed the dissipating echo of the creature's words, ringing out deafeningly as he lunged at the translucent barrier behind which the grotesque creature lay.
His fist glowed and collided with the barrier in a resounding clash, adding to the fading echo of his battle cry and filling the chamber with a piercing sound. Relecta curled up and covered her ears, her squinting gaze seeing the see-through barrier infested with cracks.
These grew larger and larger with each grunt and push from Armis until it shattered like glass, disintegrating along with the steam and the illusion of luxury around them.
The chamber from their fake memories was now revealed to be ruined and rotten, with debris of the floor, walls, and ceiling ridden with black foliage.
No more soothing fragrance, just the smell of rot that filled the chamber. The tubs and structures that had been brimming with hot water moments ago now held rotten pools of blood. Where the grotesque monster had been, there now stood a giant unyielding slab of stone with ancient language etched upon it. No longer illusions or comfy dreams, it was now actual dreadful reality. They stood before the gate of the 90th floor, behind which awaited them Chaos.
"The hell, it's... it's so frustrating," Armis grumbled, walking away from the door. He stood beside Alan, his frustrated gaze fixed on the door. Suddenly, his attention was drawn by the note of concern in Relecta's voice.
"Darling? Darling?!! Alan, what's wrong?" Relecta said, holding onto Alan's stunned body. He remained unresponsive, his gaze ahead but his mind absent, his lips shivering. Concern enveloped Armis as well when he turned towards Alan, calling out to him,
"Alan!! Alan?! What's w—"
"It's Commander!" Alan exclaimed out loud, his attention snapping back to his friends. When Armis shook his body, turning his attention to him, Alan's eyes held fear that deepened the concern in Armis's eyes.
"What? What do you mean?!" Armis gasped in confusion. "Why?! What happened to him?"
Alan didn't reply. He pushed Armis away, yanking himself from Relecta's concerned gaze. Alan turned towards the gate behind them, the wooden shambles of it opened wide as Alan walked towards it.
"Alan!!! Where are you going?!" Armis, getting even more frustrated by Alan's sudden strange and concerning behavior, his already bruised and battered form emphasizing his fragility even more.
Relecta and Armis followed behind him. Armis suddenly grabbed Alan's shoulder, turning his face towards him. Armis's contorting face showed his frustration more than his voice.
"What is wrong, Alan?! Tell us! What do you know?!"
Armis's obliviousness added to Alan's frustration and dread. His teeth gritted, his lips shivering as he looked for the words to dispel Armis's oblivious expression, which only amplified the irritation in Alan's gaze.
Suddenly, Alan closed his eyes, took a step back, and drew a heavy breath. He opened his now calm and focused eyes, his face showing nothing but sternness, which elicited sudden confusion from Armis and Relecta. But before they could voice it, Alan spoke in a calm and calculated voice,
"Forgive me for the sudden outburst."
His calmness made Armis retreat, halting his own frustration. Relecta moved beside Armis, both looking at Alan with calm yet tinged concern in their gaze as Alan continued.
"Armis, I need you to trust me right now. You too, Relecta," Alan's calm, instructive voice gripped their attention, eliciting nods after every string of words. "I am sure that Longiseus and Lady Roartad are in grave danger, and if we don't act now, we will lose them. So, Armis, I want you to stay here, open the gate, and work together with Relecta to keep the monster at bay or even kill it if possible. And Relecta..." Relecta's focused gaze twitched as Alan smiled at her. He moved closer, raising his hands to cup her face, which softened at his touch. He leaned her head down, touching her temple with his. Both closed their eyes as Alan spoke softly to her.
"My love, I love you. And I promise that I won't let anything happen to you, ever again. I need your help. Support Armis and make sure he doesn't die. Can you do that for me?"
Alan moved away, opening his eyes to meet her loving, almost moistened gaze. With a slight nod, she confirmed Alan's request. Alan smiled at her before turning to Armis, his voice turning stern from soft as he spoke with a determined gaze.
"I will be back with them as soon as I can. Until then, keep her and yourself safe, okay?"
"Are you sure about this, Alan? I mean, look at y—"
"Sorry, Armis," Alan interrupted as Armis began to protest. Speaking through the resolve reflected in his eyes, Alan continued before exiting the ruined wooden gate. "We don't have any more time to waste. We are so close. Now, please, Armis, it's in your hands. Finish what that thing has started."
Without waiting for Armis's response, Alan turned and paced out of the exit, entering the somewhat familiar hallway. Where instead of luxury and allure, only rot and ruination appeared before him.
With each determined step Alan took, the once alluring illusion of the miraculous floor began to crumble and fracture, revealing the rotten, corrupted reality they had unknowingly lived within. The air was thick with the stench of decay, contrasting sharply with the faint echoes of Armis's distant voice. It drifted to Alan's ears like an eerie melody in the background of his desperate resolve and struggle to reach his destination in time.
"Beware! Be watchful of the insidious beast of sloth! Cowardly monster, sleepy and lazy! It exists within our shadows! And torpor breeds indolence, minds slow!"
Alan leaped through the shattered and withering doors that had once stood majestic and beautiful. The floors, once lush with carpet, now bore only patches of mold and dampness. The walls, which had earlier displayed beautiful illuminated torches and majestic portraits, now crumbled and cracked with neglect. Mirrors that once reflected the allure of the illusion now shattered with each step Alan took, exposing the bleak truth beneath
the façade of lethargy.
"Do not fall into lethargy! Lest the soul be immersed in its slumber! The sweetness of sleep is offered! But lethargy drags us into the depths of night…"
On a hill bathed in the roseate glow of the climbed sun, stood a small wooden house, not too large, yet big enough to support a family.
Its silence was broken only by the longing gaze from its small window, looking down at the serene scenery of the small town in the valley below. Longiseus' eyes, filled with melancholy, were half-closed in bittersweet memories.
Despite the sadness, a mild smile lingered on his lips. He sighed, sitting in a comforting wooden chair with a stool propping up his right leg. Inside the common space, the fireplace crackled, and utensils clinked softly. The walls were adorned with memories: a ragged piece of crimson cloth encased in glass above the fireplace, and pieces of armor bearing darkened red spots—whether rust or blood, only the owner and time could tell.
"Hey, honey…." Lady Roartad's voice was accompanied by the creak of wood and the shuffle of feet. She walked towards Longiseus, placing a hand on his shoulder and matching his gaze out the window at the breezy, serene scene. "You're back early. Everything went well in the council meeting?"
Silence followed her words until Longiseus sighed deeply, pressing his cheek against her hand. His loving gaze met hers as he kissed her hand, mischievously pulling her close and settling her in his lap. His fingers grazed the small cleavage of her back, traveling down her bust. Affection and love sparkled in their eyes as Longiseus leaned in for a sweet, warm kiss. After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes smiling at her before returning to the window.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Well, there's a reason why we bought this place all those years ago, before stepping foot in that…" Lady Roartad began, her eyes first displaying proud joy, which turned into a frown as her words trailed off, speaking of a bitter memory. She rested her head on his neck, finding comfort in his presence.
"Yes, but I never imagined that I would be able to see this view again," Longiseus replied, his heart syncing with Lady Roartad's as her affectionate eyes closed in the comfort of her husband's warmth. The pain of the bitter memory traveled through his heart as Longiseus continued, "You know they attempted to interrogate me again, back in the meeting. They are desperate to know what we saw beyond the 49th floor."
"What did you say?" Her eyes opened with a bit of apprehension behind them, which turned into concern as Longiseus replied.
"Same as always. I just excused myself, saying that it is too much for me to relive those moments. Although they did urge me to cooperate when I feel comfortable. To be honest, I am getting tired of it."
"Well, that is natural, honey." Lady Roartad moved her body, raising her legs as she nestled into Longiseus's embrace. Her tone was supportive but had a tinge of sternness.
"We too were surprised, or rather shocked, that what we read on the gate, on those inscriptions—it was a lie. We always had a way out, but we, we… didn't…." Her tone turned bitter and guilt-ridden, a small clench in her teeth with contemplation, but the warmth from Longiseus and the gentle breeze from the window melted her rising guilt and anger. She continued with a gratifying tone, "I do thank Roiran for that unexpected rescue, but I always wonder, why us?"
"Well, the rescue was unexpected, considering I told Father Zeneth before he left that if he or any other messenger service does not receive any message from us after a week, they should consider us sacrificed in the battle, in the name of the Pope." Longiseus said, a contemplative look on his face, a mild smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Lady Roartad's rising gaze.
She moved again, crossing one leg over the other as she suggestively took a seat in Longiseus's lap, her lower body grazing against his. Longiseus continued with a smile, holding a suggestive gaze with his wife.
"When I first saw him, I thought it was some demon's illusion. But when I next opened my eyes and found us in the holy church, I thought I was either dreaming or in heaven."
"Well, these six years have been like heaven for us. We won over that hellish place, managed to return to whatever normal we could achieve, and presented this world with a proof of our love," Lady Roartad said, her voice turning sultry as her desires took over. She guided Longiseus's fingers, taking one of his hands to graze her cascading back and the other to her bosom, her lips grazing his neck in a soft sensation that only amplified as her voice grew huskier.
For a few moments, Longiseus reveled in Lady Roartad's desires, his hands exploring her body as he kissed her passionately. Her soulful moans filled the room, her wet lips pressed against his skin. But as his gaze once again drifted outside the window, a faint silhouette of Relic Castle hiding behind thin clouds brought a thought to his mind. Doubt wiped away his desires, and he voiced his concern, halting Lady Roartad's movements.
"But can we actually call it a win?"
"Huh?" Lady Roartad gasped in sudden puzzlement, pulling away from his embrace as he continued, still gazing outside.
"We never got to know what happened to Alan and the others. We never did get the wish all of our friends sacrificed for. Sometimes, living like this feels like a guilt. Why us? Why only us—"
"Father!!!!" An innocent voice broke Longiseus and Lady Roartad's rising contemplative reverie, followed by the shuffling of small feet that instantly turned their frowning faces into joyful smiles. Their embarrassment was clear when a small child, no taller than three feet, draped in a black overall and shoes, with a face bright as a full moon, looked at his parents with innocent confusion.
Seeing his puzzled expression, Lady Roartad quickly climbed off Longiseus, almost staggering before he supported her. He, too, stood up limping, his face streaked with a blush. Leaning down to his son, he asked with a smile, "Y-Yes, Alan. You're here so early. Is everything alright with your friends?"
Alan stared at his parents for a moment, confusion deepening on their rose-colored cheeks. But his father's smile and the innocence in his demeanor made him shake off the scene he had just witnessed. Reciprocating with a smile, he replied, "Father, Father. I was wondering, can we practice sword today?!"
Seeing the sudden shift in his son's demeanor, the innocence and love dripping from Alan's eyes, Longiseus's feigned smirk turned into a genuine expression of joy. Lady Roartad followed suit, speaking as Longiseus scooped Alan into his arms, "Sure, kiddo. Father would love that, right, honey?"
She turned her squinted smile to Longiseus, who replied with a nod, "Yes, absolutely, Alan. Let's go outside. Mother, would you please prepare our lunch?" Longiseus added, holding a teasing innocence in his voice. Little Alan found their exchange amusing, chuckling as Longiseus and Lady Roartad exchanged smiles and nods before Longiseus, carrying his son in his arms, walked outside through the wooden gate.
"C'mon, Alan, now summon your weapon," Longiseus said as they traveled to the other end of the cliff, which offered a scenic view of the grass plains surrounding the border of Pompeii. A large yet slender tree with pink and white petals stood in the background as Longiseus and little Alan faced each other.
On his father's instruction, Alan removed his overall, revealing his slender figure. A faint outline of a sword appeared on his back, glowing green with a tight grunt. He reached out to his neck and, with a shimmering green glow, pulled out a long, one-sided crimson sword with a threaded handle.
Like a brave little warrior, Alan poised the sword towards his father, who smirked in joy and retrieved a white iron shield from his back. He bellowed to his son, "Now come, Alan! Give me all you've got!"
At his father's cue, little Alan tightened his muscles and set his feet firmly on the ground before dashing towards Longiseus. In mid-distance, he jumped and spun with agility, delivering a powerful side slash on Longiseus's shield, followed by a hammer slash, finishing off with a spinning kick on the shield.
As he landed on the ground, an innocent smirk played on Alan's lips. But he was caught off guard by his father, who leaned down and swiped him off the ground, tapping him on the head with the shield in mid-air. Alan lost his grip on the sword and crashed onto the grassy ground with a thud, a complaining groan of pain escaping his mouth.
"Ow... Father…"
Longiseus looked down at his sword, a bittersweet memory, a nostalgic silhouette dancing in his eyes. He smiled and said, "Well kiddo, it's your own fault for getting comfortable before confirming the enemy's yield. A new lesson for you." Longiseus sat down before little Alan, who, after rubbing his back, listened attentively to his father's wisdom.
Longiseus stood up, first smiling, then adopting a resolved look on his face. Holding his shield high, he challenged his son for another round. Little Alan, showing equal resolve, gathered himself up on his feet and held his sword against his father.
The high sun traveled down, casting its golden hue on Alan and Longiseus, who were enjoying moments of true bonding. They sat near the tree, watching the green horizon enveloped in the red and orange blaze. A sweet smile played on Longiseus's lips, Alan's small hand resting in his own. The serene scene was suddenly disrupted by Alan's voice, absent of any emotion, piercing through the tranquility.
"Why?!" The single word, louder than before, shook the calm out of Longiseus's heart. His mind filled with concern and puzzlement as he turned towards Alan. His puzzlement deepened into dread when he saw Alan's face, emotionless, with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. Eeriness dripped from his visage as he spoke again.
"Why?!"
"Why what, son? Are you alright?! Wha—" Longiseus's shivering lips voiced his concerns. As he began to move his arm to put a reassuring touch on his son, Alan quickly stood up. His empty, widened eyes stared deeply into Longiseus's concerned gaze, filling it with dread and apprehension with every word.
"Why?! Why?! Why now?! Why like this?!" Alan's loud tone shattered the serenity of the atmosphere. His small hands held onto Longiseus's shoulders firmly, shaking his mind with cryptic words and his body with his hands.
Suddenly, Alan's eyes squinted, and a tear flickered from them. His vacant voice now held notes of frustration and despair. With another shake of Longiseus's stunned body, his eyes welled up with tears. A whirlwind of emotions tore through his calm heart, bewildering his serene mind. Dread, horrific pain, and a reality-shattering realization emerged before his blurring eyes.
Alan's face morphed into a visage he thought he would never see again. Blue sunken eyes filled with pain, a scarred face showing suffering and despair, tattered lips moved with blood to call out to him, to wake him up. It was Alan. He shook Longiseus as, little by little, even the voice of his son changed to Alan's, desperately calling out.
"Commander!!! C'mon, wake up!!! Wake up, damn it!!! You can't go!! You can't go like this, I won't let you go like thi—"
Suddenly, Alan's voice muffled as Longiseus grasped his small hands and buried Alan's desperate and pained visage against his chest. Longiseus's own face displayed the emotional whirlwind that shattered his stern demeanor, breaking it into tears and a frown of agony. He gritted his teeth, trying to endure the rising pain from the sudden realization. Alan continued his protests and pleas, his voice muffled and crying.
"I...I know, Alan..." Longiseus's shivering lips began to move, spewing broken words, each laced with the pain from the realization of the fabricated reality around him.
As far as his teary gaze saw, the village, the houses, the people, the grass, the mud, the air, the clouds, the cerulean sky—everything around him—was a piece of his dissipating psyche, a mirage.
His shattering heart knew it was the doing of something vile, but false as it was, it was still beautiful to him. The only person who was real in this dome of lies was his wife. Amidst this dreadful realization, she came to his side, placing a hand of support on his shoulder.
She, too, gazed at the beautiful, fabricated horizon, hearing the pained cries of their friend through the body of their false son. Her mind knew that where they were was not real. She knew where it had been leading them, but just like her husband's, her heart knew as well. The beauty of this fabrication, the false surrealism, was much more beautiful and salvational than what awaited them outside.
As Alan's relentless pleas continued through the crying voice and form of their son, Longiseus's broken voice began speaking. Like fragile glass enduring an external force, the ground, the sky, and the very reality around them began getting infested with cracks.
"Alan, I appreciate your efforts, your will, your resolve that you have shown in us, but believe me... it doesn't matter. Nothing does. Nothing ever did. Every breath I drew, every word I said, every step I took, everything I had done, nothing mattered when we stepped foot inside this place. It led to nothing but despair and horrors. I tried, Alan. I tried my hardest to just for a moment, even for a fraction, to believe that all this dread, this conflict, this despair, this chaos, this suffering, that it all meant something, that all of this led us towards salvation, a better future. But the harder I tried, the more I lost hope. I had already lost my family; little by little, I lost my will as well, and then finally, I lost myself too."
A shrieking cry burst from Longiseus's mouth as he felt Alan's cries and the writhing of his son halt. Slowly, he pulled his son away from his embrace, watching as the little resemblance of Alan that remained in his son's face began to fade into a crimson glow. Longiseus smiled in pain, understanding the truth, as did Lady Roartad. She knelt beside him, both of their teary gazes fixed on their son's face. The remnants of Alan's presence were fading away, and words of farewell emerged from Longiseus's lips, who held his wife's supportive embrace.
"I wish we had met in different circumstances, Alan, better circumstances. Who knows—you might have become part of my family. I wish you had, because I can feel the nearing end. We can feel the gentle embrace of Roiran, his melodious voice in our ears. I feel fulfilled, I feel happy, not only because I will finally meet my maker, but because I met a friend—a true friend that anyone could ask for. Thank you, my friend, for coming here to meet us one last time, for your efforts, for everything you have done for us. And I apologize," he said, his voice breaking.
As Lady Roartad embraced Longiseus, closing her eyes, she remained calm, taking solace in her husband's fleeting warmth. The reality around them neared its shattering point. Longiseus gazed deeply into his son's eyes, which had completely lost Alan's essence. He smiled with fulfillment, finding solace in the innocence hiding deep within his son's eyes, and uttered his last words.
"But I find this deception, this dream, is too beautiful compared to the hell that awaits us outside. Farewell, Alan."
Suddenly, the illusion shattered. The fabrication collapsed, revealing a visage so pained and despaired it seemed it would collapse with just a touch. Alan's teary, agonized eyes gazed at the withered bodies of Longiseus and Lady Roartad, lying together on the bed, their hands entwined.
Even dried up as leaves, their bodies held a smile that spoke of a pained yet satisfied departure of their pure souls. The sliced giant carcasses of worms around the two told of Alan's struggle and efforts. His rasping, wheezing breaths showed his relentless yelling and calling to wake his friends. He watched helplessly as their souls left their bodies, while he just stared with an empty gaze, tears of pain and agony streaming down his face.
His stunned, collapsed body didn't move even when the dried bodies of Longiseus and Lady Roartad began breaking into specks of crimson hue, drifting outside through the shattered wooden gate.
He just stared and stared until nothing remained but their white overalls, stripped of their illusion, now ragged, torn, and decaying on the broken remains of the bed. The pristine gold threading was gone, replaced by rot and ruin. As the last speck of glow departed through the gate, leaving behind the shattered remnants of deception, Alan knelt amidst the desolation. His eyes, dried of tears, held only one echoing question in his despairing, empty mind:
"Why?"
"Why?! Why?! You ask?" Suddenly, the empty, despairing chamber echoed with a voice tinged with disgust. Alan snapped out of his reverie, his legs staggering as he stood up. His vacant gaze, filling with confusion, darted around the chamber. The withered walls, the rotting furniture, the dirty floor—none seemed the source of the voice that now reverberated around him. As Alan repeated the words in his head, they grew increasingly familiar.
"You're a fool, you know that..." The voice cut through the silence again, causing Alan's eyes to widen with apprehension and sudden shock. He turned abruptly and saw a rotting mirror, shattered with a missing piece in the middle. From the fragmented glass, two reflections of Alan stared back at him. One bore a pained, bloody, and bruised visage, conveying despair and suffering through sunken blue eyes. The second reflection mirrored Alan's appearance but with eyes filled with resolve, fiery determination burning within. Alan looked on in confusion when suddenly, his apprehension turned to horror as the reflection with resolve spoke:
"Surprised? Well, what else did you expect, weak and pathetic as you are? What did you think would happen when you used that technique?"
Alan's eyes remained widened in horror for a moment, his eyelids halfway down in realization. The reflection in the mirror, filled with pain and despair, spoke out desperately,
"Everything I did, I did to protect everyone!" It yelled, but the other reflection showed no reaction to its agonized exclamation. Instead of empathy, a mocking smirk spread across its face as it replied with scorn,
"Oh really? And where has it brought you? Look at yourself now, crying and contemplating like a weakling. I entrusted you with control, and this is where you've led us. How much have you changed? And for what? Love? Friendship? Camaraderie? Since when did we care about such things? We came here on a mission, with a purpose, and you've thrown it all away for emotions! When has that ever turned out well for you? Have you forgotten about them?"
As his resolved reflection spoke, it sparked more agony and pain from the heart of his other reflection, which began to weep and grit its teeth. It recoiled, yanking on its locks as it retorted with a yell,
"Ahhhhh!!!! I didn't know!!! It's not my fault! I never wanted any of this to happen! Both times, I just wanted to feel normal, to know what it's like to be like others. But you!!! You ruin everything!!! You walk without regret, leaving nothing but bloodshed behind you. You're a heartless, mindless monster, and I…I just…"
Its words trailed off, the rage in its eyes giving way to crushing grief. In contrast, the resolved reflection spoke with a sinister look in its eyes,
"Go ahead, say what you want, deny all you want. But I never let him become pathetic like this. It's all you—your foolishness, those pathetic emotions. They put you and others in danger. Admit it, no matter how much you try, you cannot save your loved ones from yourself. And now it's her turn…"
As the resolved reflection of Alan smiled with a sinister glint in its eyes, its unspoken implications filled the grieving reflection, sending a shiver of dread through Alan's physical form. But despite the provocation, the despairing reflection retorted with the same emotion he had invested in Armis,
"No!!! No, not this time. I trust Armis. He's there to protect her. He won't let anything happen to her, I know it—"
"Oh really?" Suddenly, doubt crept into the voice of his other reflection, breaking through the forming resolve of both Alan and his despairing reflection. With a sinister smile that refused to waver, it continued to sow seeds of doubt,
"Armis? The person about whom the shadow being warned you repeatedly? The one who doesn't hesitate to kill or sacrifice friends for victory."
"But he—"
"Nah!! Nah…nah." Cutting off their attempts to defend Armis with logical arguments, the reflection pushed them back into despair, exploiting their vulnerability with each word,
"Don't hide behind weak excuses and circumstances. Do you honestly believe what happened to Arian was a coincidence? Or Lyco? Did he have to die? Maybe I'm being blunt, but our skepticism was always our strength. The moment you abandoned it, everything went downhill. Listen to me, there's still time. We haven't lost everything yet. It may be a long shot, but we can set things right again."
Its words tore through Alan's emotions, slicing apart his pain with logic and skepticism, filling his mind with suspicion and his heart with racing fear. The despairing reflection now held only a vacant gaze, acknowledging its powerlessness in the face of the sinister resolve of the other reflection. Alan's physical body leaned into the mirror as the despaired reflection spoke, its tone devoid of emotion but tinged with grim sternness,
"Do you think we'll survive?"
"Even if we don't, I will ensure her safety," the resolved reflection replied stoically. "Despite how ruthless I may seem, I care about her."
"Alright then, just this once, I'm allowing you to take control. Do what you must, but ensure there's no more death. Otherwise, you'll meet a horrific end with us…"
"Oh, tough guy," the resolved reflection scoffed, a smirk spreading across its face. "No need for threats. Now let me take over, and you just sit back and relax."
With a smirk on its face, the resolved reflection took over, causing the despairing reflection to dissolve into the mirror. Soon, both reflections and Alan's physical body moved away from the mirror with determined speed, leaving behind only the lingering tremors of uncertainty in the air.