Chapter 79: Waking Up

There was no pain, or any kind of final burst of sensation. Nor any dramatic revelation or moment of clarity.

It was just an abrupt, complete and empty end.

One moment Ishiki was reaching for his wife’s face, desperate to touch her one last time.

The next moment, everything ended.

It didn’t fade to black or white, that wasn’t how death felt. When death came, everything simply stopped. Like a candle extinguished by an indifferent wind.

Then there was white.

Pure, absolute white. Not bright enough to hurt, not dim enough to be comforting. Just an endless expanse of colorless existence that stretched in every direction.

Ishiki sat at the edge of a cobblestone path.

His hand was still outstretched and frozen in the motion of reaching for something that no longer existed. He stared at his palm and felt… nothing.

His mind was indifferent to the change.

The cobblestones beneath him were old and weathered. Each stone was slightly different—some cracked, some smooth but all of them seemed… eerily familiar.

He slightly shifted forward, and looked beyond the path’s edge.

There was nothing.

The only thing he saw was a void so absolute it made his eyes ache. A peerless emptiness that stretched down forever.

Ishiki pulled his outstretched hand back slowly.

’I’m dead.’

The thought arrived with strange detachment.

’I died. The god fell and the shockwave erased me.’

’So why am I still thinking? Are dead people supposed to think?’

He looked around.

’Is this the afterlife?’

The questions felt hollow and meaningless. What did it matter what this place was called? He was here, all alone and everyone he had tried to save was gone.

’My wife.’

’My daughter.’

Their names were a mystery still, even in death… the missing memories stung deeper than the the actual loss. He didn’t want to admit, but their death’s felt… distant to him.

’What kind of father forgets his own child’s name?’

The thought cracked something inside him.

’I failed them. I wasn’t strong enough, i wasn’t fast enough. I was a goddamn Lieutenant. My ass, it a meaningless title.’

His breathing became uneven.

’They died because I was weak.’

His hands began to shake. This particular sentence stirred something inside of him, he… he could feel it, he was truly and utterly weak.

But that was meaningless, everything was meaningless.

Even his pain was meaningless here.

Ishiki collapsed forward, hands pressing against the cold cobblestones. His shoulders heaved.

’I’m sorry.’

’I’m so sorry.’

’I should have been there. I should have stayed home. Screw that god… Screw them all. I should have—’

“Should have what?”

The voice came from behind him. It was soft, gentle and almost kind. But underneath the sweetness was something that made Ishiki’s skin crawl despite the lack of physical sensation.

In truth, It was malevolent and insidious. Like honey laced with poison.

Ishiki froze and slowly, he turned around.

The cobblestone path that had ended at the void now stretched backward. Extended into the distance. And at its terminus, rising from the white nothing like a monument to the corrupted gods, stood a temple.

It was magnificent.

Constructed entirely of lustrous wood that gleamed with an inner light. The craftsmanship was perfect—every timber was aligned seamlessly.

At the top of the broad stone stairs leading up to the temple entrance stood a figure.

He was beautiful.

Not just handsome in the conventional sense, he was beyond what mortals could hope to get. Tall and graceful, with features so perfectly symmetrical they seemed carved. His eyes were the color of molten gold, warm and compassionate. His hair fell in waves of black silk.

He wore simple robes of cream and gold, and behind his head, there was a dark halo.

Fragments of darkness arranged in a circle that pulsed with soft radiance.

Behind him, visible through the temple’s open entrance, stood dozens of figures.

Ishiki recognized them.

He recognized, all of them. They… were the people of the clearing.

’What clearing? What am i thinking?’

Still, he looked at the with narrowed eyes and there, near the back stood a young man with a familiar pale face.

’Alex.’

The name surfaced in his mind. Alex was his friend and—

’Wait. Who is Alex?’

Ishiki frowned. ’I know that name, and that face is very familiar.’

’When did we meet? Where?’

As he focused on the question, the world around him seemed to shift. The white void rippled and flickered like a mirage.

Then the beautiful figure at the top of the stairs moved. He descended gracefully.

“Don’t,” the figure said gently. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to remember.”

He reached the bottom of the stairs and approached Ishiki with the slow, careful movements of someone approaching a wounded animal.

“You’ve suffered so much already,” the figure continued, his voice was like warm oil.

“The helplessness,” the figure whispered. “The loss. Watching people die and being powerless to stop it.”

Ishiki’s hands clenched into fists.

“That god,” He said. “The radiant one. He fell from the sky and Killed everyone you protected and swore to protect.”

His Gold eyes met Ishiki’s blue iris and they were shinning with, sympathy.

“Don’t you want revenge?”

Ishiki’s mouth was dry. “Revenge? On… on a god?”

The figure smiled. It was a beautiful smile, gentle and understanding.

And utterly devious.

“Yes,” he said. “On the god who murdered your family.”

“I’m dead,” Ishiki said flatly. “What revenge can a dead man take?”

“That depends,” the figure replied, moving closer. “On what you choose.” He gestured toward the temple behind him.

“I can offer you something precious. Something you people call, eternal peace. There would be no more pain, loss, and helpless rage.”

“What… what do I have to do?” Ishiki asked trembling.

The figure’s smile widened. “Your soul.”

Ishiki stared at him blankly.

“Give me your soul,” the figure continued, “and I will use its strength to free myself. The gods who killed you, who crush mortals beneath their wars—I will make them suffer. And in their suffering, you will find satisfaction.”

“Why?” Ishiki asked. “Why do you want revenge against the gods?”

The figure’s expression darkened. His the beautiful face twisted into something bitter and full of hate.

“Because they sealed me for eternity, they took my freedom.” he said quietly.

He looked at Ishiki with eyes that suddenly seemed very old. Ishiki felt weird… very uneasy.

Something was wrong. Something about this entire conversation felt—

“Think about it,” the figure pressed. “What do you have to return to? Your family is dead. Your city is in ashes. You failed to protect anything that mattered.”

“Your death won’t be meaningless if you give yourself to a greater cause.”

Ishiki closed his eyes.

’My family is dead.’

The thought was heavy.

’My mother…’

His mother died ten years ago.

The memory was fuzzy. His mother passed away from an incurable disease.

’Wait.’

Another memory surfaced.

His mother may have been crushed under falling debris of Neo-Tokyo’s towers.

’Neo-Tokyo? What’s Neo-Tokyo?’

Ishiki’s eyes snapped open.

There were… two memories of same woman, in two different worlds?

“What…” he whispered.

The figure’s expression suddenly shifted.

“Don’t think,” he said quickly. “What’s there to think? Just accept and peace is—”

“Who the heck are you bastard?” Ishiki snapped, pushing himself away, and stood up slowly. He looked at his hands again.

“Who am I?” he asked with narrowed and urgent eyes. “What’s my name?”

The figure opened its mouth to speak, but Ishiki beat him to it.

“What do I do?” He asked. “Am I a Lieutenant? But a Lieutenant of what?”

The white void rippled again. More violently this time.

“Stop,” the figure said, with the same gentle smile. “Stop trying to hurt yourself, you will never find peace like this.”

But Ishiki couldn’t stop. And somewhere, inside the deepest parts of his mind there was an eerie name.

’Memory Reaper.’

The title floated up from somewhere deep.

’Wait… Memory Reaper. ’ His eyes widened in realization.

’That’s what I am. That’s my… Title.’

“I don’t have a wife,” Ishiki said slowly, staring at the figure with cold eyes. “I don’t have a daughter. I’m sixteen years old.”

The figure’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

But it was too late.

Ishiki looked at him straight in the eyes. “Goddamn bastard… what did you do to me?”

Everything made sense now, everything that had happened—the disappearances, the names on the list, the hollow-eyed players.

And everything that Ishiki just now experienced.

’It was an illusion.’

The thought sent shivers cascading down his spine.

All of it. The perfect life, the family and the city.

’The Lord of Illusions.’ He remembered and looked up at the beautiful figure and finally saw what it truly was.

It Not a benevolent spirit or a god offering salvation.

He was a corrupted being. Sealed in the temple for unknown crimes. Feeding on the souls of anyone who entered its domain. Creating perfect illusions tailored to each victim’s deepest desires and greatest fears.

Breaking their will to live and then consuming them.

“The people in the clearing,” Ishiki whispered. “You ate them? You wretch.”

The figure’s face twisted, revealing his true malevolence underneath that was all angles and hunger.

“I was starving,” it hissed. “Trapped and forgotten for centuries. You were the fools who opened the seal.”

Ishiki felt as if with every passing second, something was being lifted off his mind. A fog that obscured reality and mixed it with illusions.

“The skeletons,” he said. “The ones in the temple. Those were the original people of the clearing, weren’t they?”

The Lord of Illusions and Deceit smiled with too many teeth. “What if they were, yes i killed them all” it said, “my halo is nearly complete. Just a few more souls…”

It reached for Ishiki. “Starting with yours.”

Ishiki grinned. “In your dreams…”

The world shattered like glass and Ishiki’s eyes snapped open.

He was lying on his makeshift bed in the house at the clearing’s edge. Soaked in sweat and his heart raced like it was on the edge. But he was alive.

He gasped for air, hands clutching at his chest.

’I’m alive. It was an illusion, just a goddamn illusion.’ He was happy and afraid.

Afraid for the fact that he might have lived through the illusion, but the others might not. After all, the Lord if illusion and deceit had taken almost 20 of their people, he was not weak by any chance.

Ishiki, himself might have just given up his soul, not for the fact that his mother’s memory saved him.

He rolled off the bed and ran. He burst through the door into the crimson-lit night. The Crimson Moon still hung in the sky.

’It’s still Crimson Night. Shit!’

He sprinted toward the temple, boots pounding against dirt. The gates were closed but not locked. He yanked them open and rushed inside.

The warmth and smell hit it all at once.

The inside reeked of death, decay and blood. It was still lit up by the sconces burning on the each side.

The statue stood in the center, it looked serene and calm. Its hands were still raised as if holding something.

Nothing much had changed, leave the halo behind its head.

… It was almost complete. Just a few fragments and it would be a perfect arc.

And the other new site that Ishiki saw was, below the obsidian platform—

His stomach revolted at the scene.

Skeletons. Dozens of them. They were all piled beneath the statue like offerings. Some old and yellowed. Others fresh and still white.

They were the skeletons of dozens of players who had gone missing. They were all dead… just like that. Ishiki staggered back, feeling a very vague feeling of loss.

’Their Scenario is Completed. ’

The statue’s empty eyes seemed to follow him as he staggered back.

’That… that thing just looked at me, damn it… It’s going to come alive any moment.’

A creep ran down his spine. They were screwed if that happened. He needed to wake up the others and get out of here.

RIGHT NOW.

They might live through the onslaught of the trees and the withering beasts. But there would sure as hell die if they stay here.

He turned toward the exit and froze.

Five figures stood in the doorway.

Their eyes were empty. Void-like pits that reflected nothing.

And they all stared at Ishiki.

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