Chapter 4
Title: The encounter
I started incorporating new habits into my daily routine—studying mana, theory of skills, working out, reading books from the glowing screen. I experimented with purple mana, and analyzed the runes carved into the floor.
Time passed.
I discovered a few things left behind, a note book and a pen, some rocks and slabs of metal—and using my purple mana I created a mana sword. The core of the blade was forged from dark mana, while I honed the edges with red mana, giving it a deep violet center and a crimson outline that shimmered in the dim light of the cube.
I couldn't create anything else. The size and complexity of the object was too complex for me. But a sword, something I was familiar with, something I used daily, was no problem.
As more time passed, I deepened my understanding of the runes etched across the cube's surfaces. I could interpret their meanings now, to a degree, but I still had no clue how to deactivate them—let alone replicate them. So, I kept studying, training with my sword, and pushing my body to its limits when I worked out.
I had learned everything there was to learn about the structural integrity of the cube. No surprise—there wasn't a single flaw in its design. So my new goal became simpler, in theory: polish my swordsmanship and sharpen my blade until it was strong enough to cut through the indestructible.
Years blurred by.
My mastery over my mana had advanced to the point where I could now isolate and manipulate fragments of my own soul. I placed a fragment into my sword, and the effect was immediate—its blade glowed with a haunting purple light, the edge cloaked in a crimson mist. Encouraged, I tried placing a fragment into a rock.
Nothing happened.
The rock remained unchanged, dull and unresponsive. I retrieved the soul fragment, though it resisted me as if it didn't want to leave.
Curious and bored, I drew a crude stick figure onto the wall and imbued it with that same fragment. What happened next was… unexpected.
The drawing sprang to life—not in full three-dimensional form, but it moved along the wall like a character in a drawing, alive within the 2D plane. It could speak, though not in any language I recognized. Still, I felt the emotion behind the words that it spoke.
I named him Lark.
Maybe I was losing my mind—imagining a friend to ease the crushing solitude—but I didn't care. For the first time in centuries, I wasn't truly alone.
Whenever I wasn't studying or looking for a way out, I talked to Lark. I told him stories about my parents and siblings. His replies were nonsense—"BLING BLING BANG BANG BOOM BOOM"—but over time, I began to believe I was starting to understand him.
I gave him different questions, recorded his responses in my notes, and tried deciphering his language.
One day, I thought I'd cracked it. I asked him, "Are you sentient, and can you understand me?"
His response: "BONG BONG BLING!"
After a frustrating round of translation, the sentence I landed on was: 'Mountain is pineapple.'
I sighed.
Lark had zero intelligence. Absolutely none.
So, I gave up on that side project and dove deeper into perfecting my swordsmanship, raising it to (S) Rank. With my increasing control over my soul fragments, I decided to give Lark a companion. This time, I drew the new figure with care and precision, then infused it with a fresh soul fragment.
The second creation stirred to life.
I named him Rob.
To my surprise—and relief—Rob could actually speak. Over time, we grew close. We shared jokes. We mocked Lark together. He wasn't the brightest, nor the most patient, but he was a friend. And after so long in isolation, that meant everything.
And that, brings us to today.
⸻
I set my pencil down and stretched until my back popped. Rising from the ground, I stared at the wall—the same damn wall I bashed my skull against every day.
"Finally," I muttered, "everything's ready."
Drawing my mana sword—I closed my eyes and channeled mana through my arms and into the blade.
With a furious roar, I unleashed everything I had into a single, devastating strike.
*CRACK*
The sword shattered.
When I opened my eyes, I found only a faint scratch on the wall—barely a fingernail's depth.
Dropping the broken hilt, I fell to my knees, screaming in frustration.
A faint laugh echoed behind me.
I turned.
Lark bounced along the wall like a lunatic, cackling. "Hak Hak Hu hu ahal ahak!"
Rob giggled. "Damn, he's really mocking you."
Tess, watching quietly, looked away and said, "Don't feel bad, Master. I'm sure you'll get it next time."
I sighed, standing up slowly. "Yeah… You're right, Tess. Next time."
I laid back down on my makeshift bed, running my calloused hand along the cold, unyielding wall.
'Should I just give up? End it all?'
My eyelids drifted shut.
⸻
I opened my eyes to darkness.
An infinite void surrounded me, cold and ominous. From the shadows emerged a figure—startling at first, but as my eyes adjusted, I saw that she was… beautiful.
Tall. Pale. Long black hair flowing like liquid obsidian. A tattered blindfold covered her eyes, and a black halo floated lazily above her head. Her snow-white wings contrasted starkly against the black mist of her tight, curve-hugging dress.
She carried a massive scythe, black as night.
She approached me, each step slow and deliberate, her sadistic smile growing wider.
As she passed by me, she brushed her fingers across my cheek, then leaned in from behind.
"You smell of anguish and torment… of death and despair," she leaned in and whispered into my ear. "This delights me."
Licking her lips as she circled back in front of me. With one hand, she lifted my chin. With the other, she raised her blindfold.
Behind the fabric—black eyes.
Two endless voids stared back at me. I was lost in them, drawn into a cosmic ocean of shadow, like a soul adrift in a starless sky. My body felt weightless. Sound vanished. For that brief, paralyzing moment, there was nothing but her eyes.
"Do you wish to die and not return?" she asked, her voice slithering around him like silk dipped in frost.
I blinked, shaken, and snapped back to reality. I shoved her away. "Who are you? What do you want?"
She laughed—a twisted, melodic laugh.
"I am the Goddess of Death. Adith. I've been watching you for some time now. Through every moment of torture. Every suicide. Every scream. My sister claimed you as hers… but your scent has reached my domain. And I can't resist anymore."
She bit her lip and stepped closer, drawing the scythe around his neck.
"So what do you say, Basil? Give yourself to me."
She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I'll make it worth your while."
I blushed, caught off guard by her seductive tone. "What… what do you want?"
She ran a finger down my chest.
"Just for you to… become mine."
I didn't respond.
'Maybe I could end it here,' I thought. 'I wouldn't have to suffer anymore. I could finally be free.'
As if realizing the words that crossed my thoughts I clenched my fist.
And punched myself in the face.
'No. I still have to avenge my parents. They gave their lives so I could live. I'm not what happens to me. I'm what I choose to become.'
I smiled at Adith.
"I'm sorry. But I must keep going. There's still so much I have to achieve. So forgive me, Adith—but I can't die today."
She clicked her tongue, annoyed, and turned away.
"I see. Very well. I'll send you back. But if you ever change your mind… just say my name."
She paused mid-step.
"Oh—and before I forget. Heed these words: 'The words of friends can sometimes mean nothing… or they can sometimes mean everything.' The rest… you'll have to figure out yourself."
Then she walked into the void, her black dress trailing behind her, her pale thighs and flowing hair catching my gaze.
I whispered, more to myself than to her, "I've never seen the color black look so beautiful on someone before."
I closed my eyes—
And vanished.
⸻
Adith remained in the void, frozen mid-step. Her expression, once playful and sadistic, softened for the first time in centuries.
Her lips parted slightly, and a light pink hue dusted across her pale cheeks.
She glanced over her shoulder into the space where Basil had once stood.
"…What's that supposed to mean?" she muttered, quietly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
She stood there in silence, arms folded, black halo floating slightly above her head.
——
I awoke back in the cube.
"Well that's just great," he muttered. "Another goddess with riddles."
I raked a hand through my long brown hair, making it even messier than before.
"What the hell does 'the words of friends' even mean?"
I stood and launched into my workout while thinking about her words: 5,000 push-ups, 7,000 sit-ups, 1,000 lunges, and a full stretching routine. As I trained, questions buzzed in my mind.
'If Adith could reach me in here… that means Sarien can too. So why hasn't she contacted me in over six hundred years? What do they really want from me?'
My thoughts were cut short by an absurd conversation echoing nearby.
"Oh, Tess, darling dearest, I think I may be in love with you," Rob proclaimed, dropping to one knee.
"Uh, but I've only known you for a day, Sir Rob," Tess replied, backing away awkwardly.
I peeked over and grimaced. "Ugh."
Rob caught me staring and snapped, "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, YOU NAKED NEANDERTHAL, YOU SAUSAGE-FACED MOTH—"
Before he could finish, Lark flew out of nowhere like a spider monkey, latching onto Rob's face and shouting, "BLINGA BLINGA BAZINGA!"
Rob screamed, running side to side, his words muffled beneath Lark's cackling.
Tess and I broke into laughter.
Through the giggles, Tess said, "You guys are funny, hopefully I can find a friend like that one day."
My laughter faltered.
'Wait.'
'That's it.'
I jumped up. "Lark, you're a genius!"
"Bong bon?" said Lark.
"He, eh?" echoed Rob muffled by lark.
I closed my eyes, gathering dark mana in each hand. Pressing them together, and slowly pulled them apart, forming a long purple blade.
The final result was flawless—a purple longsword wrapped in swirling red mist.
"This is the best one yet," I whispered.
I faced the wall and remembered Lark's nonsensical chant.
"Hak," I said, slicing the wall vertically.
"Hak," slicing again.
"Hu," as I stabbed once.
"Hu," stabbing again.
"Ahal," I roared, slashing downward with two-thirds of my strength.
And finally, I screamed:
"AHAK!"
I swung upward with all my might, creating a storm of mana around me that shredded through the wall like paper.
"Haha… HAHAHAHAAA! IT WORKED!!"
I stared in disbelief at the gaping hole in the cube's wall.
"Finally… I can get out of this fucking box."
Tears streamed down my face. As I gazed past the dust.