Lydia was still, frozen by the visions she was trapped in.
Around her, the world felt blurred, like watercolor running in the rain. Time felt soft. Jean and Elise rushed over to Lydia, her body slumped at the foot of a crumbling altar. Her body did not move, but her eyes flickered left and right, like she was watching a scene no one else could see.
Elise analyzed Lydia for a moment, trying to find out what was wrong. Elise mumbled as she flipped through the pages in her floating spellbook. "That can't be," Elise said with a confused expression.
"Hey... wake her up," Jean said, about to wake Lydia up.
"Don't do that," Elise snapped, as she pushed him away from Lydia. "She's seeing something. It's an illusion."
"That's more reason to wake her up."
"Ok, just kill her then!" Elise responded in a sarcastic tone.
"How would she die from this?" Jean scoffed as he reached for Lydia's shoulder.
Elise shoved him back another time. "She is cursed. If you wake her up, she will die. Her brain will overload with the illusion. It's like a bomb, compressing every second of the vision she is seeing into one second. Her brain won't be able to handle it."
While they both were talking, Lydia spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it..."
Inside the illusion, Lydia watched a replaying memory... not hers, and not quite a lie either.
She was trapped in a stage play. There was a version of herself yelling at Jean. "You creep me out sometimes, you know that?" Her voice was as sharp as a dagger. The words echoed louder than they had in reality.
Then came him, the fake Jean, kneeling in the corner of the stage like a shadow. His hoodie was more ragged and dirty than usual, veins glowing a sickly blue under his pale skin. His face seemed unrecognizable, his eyes...
Dead.
"I know," Fake Jean said, voice shaking. "You're not wrong. I may be different. I'm wrong in the head. I'm sick. I wish I could be... better. More normal."
Lydia felt sick, hearing the self-destruction of Jean. That wasn't what he said back then. But it might have been what he felt.
Jean yelled frantically, trying to get her attention. "Lydia! Don't listen to it! That isn't me!"
Elise began to shout too. "He's not real! It's that god damn demon! Come on!"
Their voices didn't reach her. In this hell, the Mind Demon had absolute control. It could twist and distort memories.
Fake Jean kept crying.
"I don't want to be a burden. I just want to be of any help. I just want it to stop. I just want it to end."
Lydia felt as if the guilt held her down, forcing her to stay seated. She wanted to be everyone's protector, everyone's hero. But even she hadn't seen how deep Jean's isolation ran. She didn't know how his life was. No one did.
Elise yelled towards Jean. "We don't have many options. I know I said we can't wake her up but... we are running out of options. This thing is taking over her body."
"Wait, don't, you said she might die!" Jean yelled, rushing to stop Elise from waking Lydia up.
But he was too late.
Elise stepped forward to grab her shoulder, but the moment her fingers touched Lydia's arm, her hands disappeared into black mist.
"Elise?" Jean whipped his head around, following the black mist.
She was gone.
The fog thickened, and suddenly, it was just Jean and Lydia in the void.
Then the air began to crack like glass.
The Mind Demon descended from the broken sky, his form hunched, weaker than it had looked before. Its limbs still stretched too long, eyes pitch black with small cracks like a porcelain doll. He snapped his fingers.
The environment changed, twisting around Lydia. The illusion rewrote itself.
They were no longer in the void.
They sat in a dark-lit theatre.
Every seat was filled with still human-like figures wearing smooth white masks, each carved with a smile, grinning from ear to ear.
Their gaze locked onto the stage.
They gave a few chuckles here and there. Not loud, but sad, and cold. Constant. Almost like they were mocking someone.
Lydia turned slowly to see what they were watching.
On the stage, the real Jean was on his knees, a chain clamped around his neck. The chain was bolted onto a black box. The box looked as if it was the void itself. His body trembled with every breath. He didn't know why or how he had gotten onto the stage. He also didn't know why, but he felt so weak.
The Mind Demon stood on the stage and snapped its fingers. A bright golden suit appeared onto its body, along with a cane. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen," it said with a demonic grin. The demon's legs distorted and turned into mist; it slowly flew towards Lydia's chair.
He leaned into one ear and whispered, "Do you see what happened to him? You didn't see him for less than an hour and look what happened."
Jean tried to hear what he was saying from afar but couldn't make anything out.
"He became this... because you weren't there to help him." The Mind Demon brushed Lydia's face with his elongated finger.
Lydia was stunned for a moment. "You're lying."
"Oh, am I?" the demon gave a chuckle. "You told him he was strange. You ostracized him. He believed you, and his body and mind became twisted because of it. The tower does change people based on their beliefs, after all."
Jean, still chained, tried to speak. The chains wrapped around his neck were suffocating. "Lydia, this isn't your fault. I can't tell you why this is happening to me but... Ghak!" The demon reached its arm out and tightened the chains around his throat.
The demon's gaze looked angry but curious.
Jean coughed, struggling to let out even a word. "I... I find it okay to be different. If everyone was the same, life would be terrifyingly boring. I like being different, and weird. At least... I'm honest."
She knew this was the real Jean. He would never beg, be so pitiful to beg. He wasn't ashamed either. He just wanted someone to understand him.
"Stop," the demon yelled, staring at Jean as he smiled at Lydia. "I was curious to hear what you had to say, but it's all just dumb. You're ruining it."
"She's not the reason I struggle in life. I've struggled my whole life. But that life made me who I am."
The Mind Demon snapped his fingers again. Jean's mouth sealed shut, shadows appeared around Jean's mouth, binding across his face.
"Do not speak in the theatre," it growled.
Jean began to panic, but then he noticed something.
The demon never touched me when I was in my trial. He never touched Elise when it was hers, too. The demon can't touch her, he thought. It only messes with me because I broke into her trial.
He tried to turn, trying to signal to Lydia. But the demon floated between the two of them, his mist-like legs covered Lydia.
The masked audience slowly turned towards Lydia, grinning. Jean didn't know what they were talking about but believed Lydia would lose to the demon's mind control soon.
She stood up, fist clenched, ready to fight.
The demon threw her back down into her chair. "He is already going to die. And soon, you will lose to my control, too."
Behind the demon, Jean's forearm began to twitch again. The crystal began to pulse blue.
A sharp shhk sound began to spring from Jean.
Blades pierced through Jean's forearms. They weren't coming from someone else, but Jean himself was growing blades. Blades grew from the back of Jean's forearms, growing inch by inch from his evolving body.
He knew he needed to change to face this demon. He tried to cover his arms, hiding it from the demon.
Jean began to tremble from fear, terrified if the demon would see him. Jean bent over and slowly cut the chain.
Lydia's eyes flickered as she noticed what Jean was doing.
The Mind Demon noticed. "...Why do you keep looking at the stage?"
He turned around, but Jean was gone.
"Huh..."
Crack!
Jean slammed his fist against the Mind Demon's cheek. The Mind Demon staggered back, having been punched in the face.
Jean tumbled to the ground as the Mind Demon pushed him away, coughing, wounded from the impact of the push.
"Stop it, you're going to break my toy!" the Mind Demon screamed in a toddler manner. He then swiped his hand in the air, and Jean flung backwards.
Jean clashed into the stage's wooden floor, breaking it open.
"Ugh, FUCK OFF!" the demon commanded.
Then silence.
Lydia then jumped in, stepping forward and headbutting the demon in the jaw.
"Fuck off to you."
The demon screeched and vanished, its body turned into smoke. The mist slowly aired out of the theatre.
The masked audience began to fade into smoke along with the demon.
The lights dimmed.
Only Jean and Lydia remained in the theatre.
She rushed over to Jean, barely managing to lift him upright, his limbs shaking. His evolution couldn't heal any internal injuries he gained.
"You okay?" she asked.
Jean gave a wheeze. "You think I'm ok? This is the second time I got hurt helping someone. You... headbutted a demon for god's sake."
"I've punched worse," Lydia gave a smirk. "Back home, I had a boss with breath like roadkill."
They both gave a small chuckle.
The theatre then faded, and suddenly, they were back inside the concrete room.
Silence.
Lydia crossed her arms and said, "I didn't need your help."
Jean looked at her, with a smile.
She gave a small smile back. It looked almost shy.
She then added, "Thanks."
Jean's forearm began to glow again, directing him where to go.
He walked up to the blue light behind a portion of the wall.
Lydia followed behind and asked, "What... is that thing on your arm?"
Jean paused for a second, hovering his arm over the wall.
"It's a part of my weird system. Just tells me where to go."
"Is that also the reason your body is changing?" Lydia asked, but Jean did not respond. "Don't worry about it," she responded again.
He raised his bladed arm, the metal glowing under the concrete.
With one deep breath, he spoke and said, "Let's get out of here."