A convoy of massive trucks roared through the desert, leaving trails of smoke in their wake. The ether engines growled, and the containers on their trailers rattled over the bumps.
Inside one of those containers was Siren.
Opening his eyes, he stared at a single point, trying to gather his thoughts. Iron chains dug into his limbs, securing him to the container's inner railing.
"Damn it!"
Wincing from the splitting pain in his head, the young man squeezed his eyes shut. His body felt like it was melting from the inside, his bones itching with a burning heat.
His broken sync-chain pulsed faintly, struggling to repair itself, while ether coursed through the cast-grid in thin bursts.
With a heavy exhale, Siren scanned the dim interior. The sheet metal beneath him swayed slightly, and the container's walls radiated heat, causing the people inside to sweat profusely. A few others, like him, were chained, while a single armed guard dozed on a seat near the door.
Siren had no idea where he was or how he ended up shackled.
The container jolted, and the guard stirred, yawning widely. Their eyes met for a split second before Siren looked away.
That's when he noticed something odd.
"Where's that hologram? Should I try calling it? Though, I doubt having a voice in my head will make things any better."
Another wave of pain surged through his body, forcing him to clench his eyes shut again. After sitting like that for a while, he drifted off without realizing it.
When he came to, he found himself in the middle of a silent sea. A thick layer of fog obscured the horizon, while a dark sky loomed above like the lid of a coffin.
A chill ran down his spine as recent memories flashed through his mind.
Suddenly, a metallic clang echoed.
"Damn it all!" Siren cursed, spinning toward the sound.
Across from him stood a figure wrapped in darkened bandages. The chains binding its slender wrists swayed like snakes on branches, clinking with a metallic rattle.
Before he could curse again, the figure lunged, raising its chains. Clenching his jaw, Siren threw his hands up, tracking its movements. The chains whistled through the air as he dodged the first attack.
He managed to evade the next strike too, but unfortunately for him, Lamenta was too fast. As she closed the distance, predicting her movements became useless.
"Damn!" A direct blow aimed at his head met his block, forcing him to stumble back. The next strike slammed into his unprotected side, sending a wave of pain to his brain. His ribs cracked, and his stomach clenched.
He tried to retreat, but a kick to the back of his thigh buckled his legs. Lamenta's next strike hit his midsection, targeting his liver. Doubling over, Siren could no longer resist.
Twisting the chain in her hands, Lamenta delivered a direct blow to the back of his head. Disoriented, Siren collapsed onto the water's surface. Her next strike smashed his head into a bloody pulp. His body twitched before vanishing into the mist.
---
Opening his eyes again, he saw the same scene: an endless sea shrouded in fog, with a dark sky pressing down like a shroud.
The misty water barely rippled beneath his feet as a heavy sense of inevitability gripped him.
"Don't tell me this is happening again?"
The air flickered, and from pixelated sparks, a figure wrapped in dark bandages materialized, her tattered form resembling a ghostly specter. The chains on her wrists clinked with a sharp metallic sound.
Siren paled, assessing her movements, but memories from moments ago flooded his mind.
She charged without warning, slicing through the fog like a predator. Siren instinctively raised his hands, but he couldn't dodge the first strike. A rusty hook at the end of her chain sank into his shoulder, tearing through muscle. Sharp pain flared as the hook was yanked back, dislocating his joint.
"Bitch!" he grimaced, clenching his jaw to stay balanced. Blood dripped from his shoulder, staining the water red.
Closing the distance, she drove the hook between his ribs. The crack of bone echoed in his chest, and Siren hissed as blood flooded his punctured lungs.
"Damn! Damn!" he whimpered, clutching the hook. But it tore free, ripping a rib from his chest.
Lamenta, like a merciless monster, continued her onslaught. The rusty hook tore into him again and again, shredding chunks of flesh until he collapsed, dissolving into black mist.
The same cycle repeated in this fog-drenched world.
She gave him no respite. Her chains whistled, aiming for his head, and Siren barely dodged— the links grazed his temple, tearing skin.
Blood poured into his eye, blurring his vision, as pain pulsed relentlessly. Lamenta stepped closer, and her hook pierced his throat. Cartilage crunched with a sickening sound, and his life flashed before his eyes once more.
He fell to his knees, water splashing around him, soaking up the dark blood gushing from his throat like a small fountain.
---
Sweat drenched his body as he found himself back in the stifling container.
The scorching metal beneath him trembled, the ether engines roared, and the chains still bit into his wrists.
Siren scanned the dim interior, where sweaty captives sat in chains, and the guard dozed by the door.
"You're such a hassle," a cold voice—the archive guardian—echoed in his head.
Siren flinched, not expecting her voice. Clenching his teeth, he hissed with restrained anger:
"Still not done playing, huh? Does watching others suffer amuse you that much?"
From sparks of light, pixels formed an ethereal wolf mask. Compared to the archive guardian's imposing figure, the icon looked… odd.
"What's that?" Siren blurted.
"I thought this would make communicating easier. I can't always linger in such pathetic conditions—I have my pride, you know," the hologram faded, replaced by a floating window displaying a priestess in a wolf mask. "Better?"
Siren's eye twitched, his face still tense.
"Why does it feel like I'm the saner one here?"
"You didn't answer me. I agreed to your terms, so why won't that psychotic bitch stop? Don't tell me you're not involved. You're both cut from the same cloth."
Just minutes ago, he'd been brutally beaten to death in the most vicious ways. Though the pain and injuries were gone, the fact remained. He couldn't pretend it didn't happen—nightmares would likely haunt him for a long time.
"Ha? Now you're complaining my assistant is too harsh? For your information, it's for your own good," the hologram replied impassively.
Siren gritted his teeth harder, feeling rage simmer within.
"Some good that is!" he shouted, loud enough for the container. A few captives glanced at him oddly, while the guard furrowed his brow in his sleep.
Lowering his tone after meeting their gazes, he continued:
"Maybe I'm dense, but can you explain how beating me to death helps? Was I supposed to unwind from the stress? Or are you still hoping to take my body?!"
The Protocol Eclipse mask paused, then its blue eyes glinted with mischief.
"It'd be nice if it were that simple, but unfortunately, you're like a damn leech, refusing to leave your body. Though, can you even call it yours when most of 'you' is my hardware?" The guardian's tone was light, but her words sent a chill through him.
For a moment, he recalled optical lenses of three massive monsters tearing him apart, and those cold organs in jars made him grimace.
"So what am I supposed to do? Nobody wants to die—that's life. Even if I wanted to give you my body, which I don't, how would I? Am I supposed to just 'step out' like some kind of filth?"
A sarcastic smirk crossed his face, helping him push aside the recent nightmare. To his surprise, the hologram mirrored his smirk.
"So you admit you're just waste in that body?" Her cold voice seemed to mock him. "Regardless, I wasn't lying about the need for sparring in your subconscious. The mechanics in your body still need calibration. That recent jump overloaded the cast-grid and resonator. I'll have to work to 'repair' them. The fastest way to calibrate the hardware is through physical experience—or in your case, mental combat in your subconscious. It's the best you can do right now."
Siren was stunned by her response. He'd suspected something went wrong during the jump—the backlash in his body was too intense. But he had no clue what she meant by "repair."
On top of that, the place he thought was a nightmare was his subconscious.
"Wait, if it's my subconscious, shouldn't I be the one benefiting? So why was I the one getting humiliated from start to finish?"
Frowning, he suddenly recalled something unnatural.
"Hold on. If this is my subconscious, why did you call yourself a guide to the afterlife? Aren't you just a voice in my head? And why does the guide to the afterlife have such a shitty personality?"
The guardian's figure flickered, then sparked into a full-sized woman over two meters tall. Inside the moving container, she had to stoop to avoid hitting the ceiling. Her menacing wolf mask loomed right in front of his face, her cold eyes locked on him.
"I'll let your words slide this time, but next time, you'll deal with the consequences," she said, dissolving into sparks and shrinking back to the small window. "To answer your question: it was, simply put, a lie to make your consciousness fade peacefully. And maybe an old habit of leading people astray with religious nonsense."