"Now, it's best you kill yourself."
"You should have just killed yourself."
"All your efforts..."
"Your looks..."
"Your resolve..."
"...even your appraisal?"
"What will they all benefit you now?" A myriad of voices echoed in his head.
He was falling from a very tall height. Fluids, hung in the atmosphere by his sides, contracted into banana-like shapes, reaching for him.
His eyes shut, as he continued falling, his back facing the ground abyss below.
The fluids were crimson. The surroundings exuded a color that hinted at a perfect blend of purple-red atmosphere. The whole scenario was affecting his mental stability, and that was why he decided to close his eyes.
Soon, as if something had stopped him from falling, he halted.
The banana-shaped fluids that reached out for him had evolved into strange hands and had caught him mid-air.
"We could do it for you."
"Just say the word..."
"YES!"
"And the deed must have been done."
With his eyes still shut, and not wanting to engage in anything that would bring a disadvantage to him, he clutched his head in pain, struggling to shun the voices.
When he had begun to fall, he tried to utilize his ability that helped him to absorb environmental energy, and manipulate it to his thirst.
He thought that would save him; it should.
But, at first attempt, he realized he was empty. So feeble that to move his hand, it only happened on instinct due to the pain that tingled into his subconsciousness.
"Laz!"
"Wake up!"
"Open your eyes, now!"
"Wake up!"
"Laz!"
"Laazzz!!!"
Not being able to withstand the echo of the last call, which was apparently ten times louder than the storm of lightning, Laz blinked his eyes open.
Once his vision cleared, he let out an awful sigh.
"Hoof! It was a nightmare."
But to think he would have a nightmare during the daytime was totally strange. Yet, he doubted his ability in the current situation to decipher what it meant.
Current situation?
'Hmm?'
Laz was lying on a slippery, watery ground. The environment was eerily quiet, but not dead. He could hear the faint rustle of leaves.
Turning around on his back, he noticed that he was in a twisted region. The region that seemed to bend natural logic and warp persuasive perception.
Skies were inverted.
The clouds were crimson, floating beneath the watery ground.
Thin streaks of light curled like vines across the horizon.
Then came the sudden realization. He was sure to have heard the rustling sound of leaves, but there was no wind.
He turned his head to the left, and right again, and not even a creature at least.
Raising his head to the front, he could have concluded he landed in a void, but he found thousands of crimson flowers bathing in the surreal beauty of absolute solitude.
There was no sunlight, or a causative illuminant, but the petals of the flowers exuded a light of their own, causing them to bleed a faint glow.
"Does this mean nature isn't a constant in all environments, but is dependent on whatever factors in a certain surrounding?" he spoke and couldn't hear his voice.
But he was trying to make a speculation.
On Earth, except for human characteristics, he understood that there was diversification in creation. There were the tall humans and the short humans. Inherently, many personalities existed, and somehow, each of them had their various purposes and advantages.
Even the trees, plants, and all things that existed on Earth were useful in one way or another. And, this was the sole purpose of the kind of nature earth bathed on each of them.
He had noticed a similar activity when he passed through his trials in the Land of Call. And now, he found himself in a place where there seemed to exist a distorted nature.
From the twisted environs to the self-glowing flowers, they were just—
"Well, I guess nature is the same everywhere. What differs is the environmental conditions of a place, right?"
Getting off the speculation, and focusing on his current situation, he tried to rise, to find a way out of this distorted region he had landed; but there were no paths, no rifts, or at least exit and entrance doors.
The more he turned, the more the scenario curved into itself.
He lay still, stretching his hand only for them to curve as well.
'Once again, a perfect trap.'
Laz had almost lost hope and now understood what the voices he heard in his nightmare were trying to hint at. They knew he was never going to leave this place.
"And they thought making it easier for me in their way would solve my problem?"
"I will just find a way myself."
As soon as he completed his speech, a seat appeared. A translucent one that seemed to have been carved from water and light. Drawn to it, he dragged his body across the surface until he reached the spot where the seat was.
And sat on it.
A sigh escaped his mouth as he melted his worn body into the seat's embrace. He had approached the seat without a second thought on what the consequences could lead to, but he believed struggling with the kind to find a solution had never helped to solve a problem.
All problems were solved through the magic of observation.
Now he had settled, he noticed the floating watery petals from the crimson flowers. They fell and traversed in flotation across the surface like a slow blizzard of memories.
One drifted gently towards him, and Laz raised his hand to welcome it into his palm. The moment it touched his palm, it dissolved, and in its place, Laz fell into a dream. A vision.
He was no longer in the crimson plain.
He stood in the midst of a bustling city. Dwarves of every stature and attire passed him by, their faces buried in work and purpose.
Sparks flew in the air.
Giant mechanical gears turned above workshops.
Trade chants echoed in guttural tongues.
He wasn't just there — he was everywhere.
Breathing the smoke. Hearing the clang of hammers. Feeling the subtle tremors from deep mining beneath the stone.
Once Laz transitioned back to reality, he let out a deep exhale.
It all happened fast, but the pain his physical body endured as a result was everlasting.
Even though he didn't want to withhold another such experience, the petal worked on self-purposes.
Another petal fell onto his forehead and dissolved.
This time, he stood alone on a high cliff, overlooking the same city.
From up here, it was majestic. Towers carved from mountain ribs reached skyward.
Bridges of steel and stone connected jagged peaks.
Rivers of molten metal flowed like lava arteries through the lower districts.
A strange calmness enveloped him. He admired the structure before him.
Perhaps, it was from a sense that this place held things beyond imagination he was yet to discover.
The occurrence of the petal dissolving into any part of his body became concurrent. And, he continued falling into a similar setting in his dreams.
As the third vision struck, he gasped. He struggled to set free.
Rough hands.
He was being dragged. Not dragged, he had been captured.
Heavy iron cuffs snapped shut around his wrists.
Magic runes glowed across them, muting his energy, making him feel as hollow as when he fell earlier.
Dwarven guards, with strict expressions, marched him through a narrow alley.
Stones were thrown at him.
Someone spat.
Some people wept.
Others laughed.
He didn't understand why it was so.
But then, he returned to reality, and the respawn continued again.
Now, he was bound in chains, locked up in a cold and cramped cell.
The walls were carved directly into a stone mountain, and water dripped rhythmically from the ceiling like a ticking clock of doom. Outside the bars, torchlight flickered, casting shadowy figures of possible dwarven guards who watched to make sure he wouldn't escape.
He couldn't escape even if he wanted to.
Time paused, and he was back.
This time, he shifted his body in every possible way on the seat and even rolled to the surface in an attempt to dodge the falling petals. But, his efforts were to no avail as a petal fell on the spot where the Mark of Ellipse existed.
He thought the Mark would save him somehow, but it didn't.
He still respawned into this vision of his.
In this vision, he found himself standing before a stage. A crowd gathered below—a sea of emotionless, armored dwarves. A large, bearded figure in ceremonial black armor read out a decree in a booming voice.
"Sir, what is the verdict?"
"Execution!"
"Jesus!" Laz exclaimed amid this chaos that he had found himself in.
He didn't remember the crimes he was being accused of. He didn't remember fighting back. His body simply trembled, staring into the abyss that waited below the execution cliff.
As the gigantic sword of the executioner was about to land on his head, something happened.
This petal that had dissolved into his Mark nearly burned his wrist due to the immersive glow of the mark.
The surge of energy, the same amount as that which he felt in the dragon snake's lair, gushed forth from his body.
The best way to end everything, now that his power seemed to return, was to destroy all the floating petals.
And how can he do this?
The lesson of qi absorption he vowed not to forget.
Assuming position, he opened his palms apart, as if he implored for a need, and concentrated his inner focus with his eyes shut.
The moment took long, but everything that had existed in this twisted space vanished into traveling streaks. Of course, except for the surfaces that constituted and brought shape to the place.
Now, the mark shone bright, and streaks of crimson and water spirits converged into a ball of energy, rolling in between his palms.
Laz, then chants:
"By the root of Right, and the rage of Wrong."
"By the power of Justice, and the doom of Righteous."
"What must not stand, must not stand."
He jammed his palm together, bursting the ball of energy that floated in between.
"I end you now!"
Just like in the abyss with the dragon, the performance had caused him a huge drain of energy. A backlash.
Now that he was crumpling onto the floor.
No, this distorted, twisted place had shattered into transparency.
And what was left in view was the lifeless body of Laz, falling under gravity from a high space.