His eyes fluttered wide suddenly at the voice, first looking at the mirror in front of him that was supposed to reflect him—along with the countless other mirrors.
What he saw however was a young man, apparently in his twenties, wearing something akin to a grey trench coat and a robe, adjusting his black, dignified monocle placed on his left eye while lying on his stomach on a grey-colored couch.
The black tassel shook on his black bachelor hat as he raised the small book he was reading, his legs raised playfully.
"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying. That is, of course, according to Arthur Clarke."
Licking the tip of his index finger and flipping a page, the young man went on, not heeding any attention to the boy with wide eyes, still unable to register the man's words.
"The Fermi paradox is the apparent contradiction between the high probability of extraterrestrial life existing and the lack of conclusive evidence for it. There is also the Drake equation, a mathematical formula created by astronomer Frank Drake, that attempts to estimate the number of potentially communicative extraterrestrial civilizations in the Milky Way galaxy."
Sighing in disappointment, the young man closed the book with both hands, before his left eye changed in an instant—from his dark eyes to two pupils—the book suddenly disappearing.
"Humans really are boring creatures, going on and on about theories they have not an inkling of an idea of, yet speak like they've seen it themselves. Ironically, I was one of those creatures once-upon-a-time," he said, his voice dripping with bitter contempt.
"Endlessly spinning theories and stories about what might be out there, yet never daring to face what's already inside. They build walls of hope and belief to protect themselves from the void, but all it does is trap them." He leaned forward, his playful smile apparent on his face.
He sighed as he raised both hands, taking off his bachelor cap, settling it beside him, and stood up from his chair on the other side, cracking his neck. "Well, that's how they were made in the first place. That's how 'it' designed 'her' to think. No matter—it's not the time to talk about them."
Walking to somewhere the mirror didn't cover, the wall behind him revealed a symbol of a triangle with an eye in the middle. Atop the triangle was a half top hat, with thin stickman limbs for hands and legs on the triangle.
The pupil in the eye was vertical, making the boy's heart beat frantically—as if it were staring at him, directly into his soul.
The man's footsteps, however, came closer, making the boy break contact with the odd symbol on the wall. The man once again entered the image, adjusting the half top hat he wore, before sitting back in his chair, holding an odd-looking white cane.
"I liked you better during the seventh iteration. You laughed more before you screamed." The man stated coolly. What many would realize was that the man had not opened his mouth a single time, but rather, the words had been spoken directly out of the boy's mouth.
"Let me tell you this, however, boy." Leaning his chin on his hand, the young man smiled as he watched the expressionless boy silently staring at him, unfocused.
The man's smile however wasn't the type, bitter, or sad type, rather it was the type that brinked on madness.
Raising his left hand, he moved it up and down in a specific method, as if balancing a puppet on it. And to the boy's shock, something akin to a wooden humanoid doll appeared, its limbs controlled by each finger on the man's hand.
Whitish-silver tentacles with razors inside and on the edge appeared behind him, slowly moving in the room.
"You won't remember this, but I will say it anyway."
The boy, seated in the chair, got an ominous premonition as he suddenly jumped from his chair, making distance between them, sweat gathering on his brows.
The young man's voice turned emotionlessly playful in a moment, making the boy's heart shiver uncontrollably.
"Don't"
(?)
...."Believe" +++++++++++
(?)
..."The" +++++++
(?)
....."Sun" +++
The moment he jumped, the old-wooden chair turned into a white snake with two heads, yet the thing that put off the boy the most was that it had no eyes or mouth.
Laughing, he spoke to the boy who had panic written all over his face.
"No matter where I escape, I can never no matter how much I try!"
Furthermore, his premonition was further confirmed by how everything in the room melted—except the mirror the young man was speaking from and the snake that was slithering toward the mirror.
The young man looked around him for any method of escape, yet failed, before his heart jumped in his chest—his gaze slowly lowering toward the feeling that something had latched onto him.
A black hand had wrapped around his ankle. In a fit of panic, the boy attempted to shake it off by pulling his leg, yet he felt the same grip on his other leg.
"... !"
Then another, and another, and another.
His whole lower body was wrapped in these hands, and the floor he was stepping on turned into a pale blue sea of shimmering thread-like paint, making him fall into it—the hands pulling him deep down. The young man started drowning—not in the sense of what water would do, but almost as if his soul were being pressed upon by a weight that not even outer gods could muster.
The boy thrashed in agony, but no voice came out of his throat. He scratched his face, neck, and body, yet to no avail.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the mirror he had been speaking to falling into the threads as well, his small body drowning in the threads that wriggled as if they were alive.
The mirror was falling on top of him, yet all he cared about was getting out of here alive.
His body was getting tired, his eyes were closing in exhaustion, as if he had been drugged. He saw a young man wearing a tuxedo, long hair tied into a crown, and thin braids coming out of the mirror subtly, fixing his hair even amid the threads.
The man still with a smile, gave him an evil grin showcasing his teeth before the mirror crack from the middle exactly.
And something horrifying made the boys blood run cold.
The other side of the mirror was a broken, despairing boy who had blood tears running down his eyes, yet his eyes were blank, as if staring into space.
However, that's not what made him afraid.
That boy. He recognized him very well.
Because that boy was-
.....
....
...
....
..
.
[You have Failed. Again. And Again. And Again.]
"... W-what? Where am I?" A young man's eyes fluttered wide open, his vision blurry and... cold?
He tried moving his body only for his body to refuse to move a single inch. His whole body seemed frozen completely as if unable to even muster a single joule of energy to move.
"Cough!" A burning sensation enveloped his throat, a thick liquid erupted from his throat, filling his mouth with the metallic taste that became unbearable. Spitting it directly, onto the ground, the young man tried to raise his hand.
He failed again. His eyes closed and opened several times before he was able to finally open them a bit clearly, his vision clearing a bit. Yet what he saw made him pause in utter shock.
Everything in his vision was white. The sky had darkened to a shade of dark blue and black, clouds swirling ominously in the sky as if scorning the death of a man that deserved the worst of deaths.
He found himself kneeling with one knee on the snow, and the other barely able to support itself.
He opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out of his throat as if his voice had been gone after decades of exhaustion.
He looked down at the state of his body, and to his utter shock, his body was riddled with serious and grave injuries, from the smallest of his toes, to the bottom of his chin. He had lost an eye, his left arm, three fingers including his thumb on his right hand,
His body was not in pain, rather all he could feel was numbness. He attempted to flex his two fingers left on his right hand, yet he was unable to, marked by the white frost creeping up his body slowly, as if swallowing him whole.
His heartbeat had greatly slowed down, and all he felt was calmness, yet at the same time a sense of desperation, as if he had already realized his life was soon coming to an end.
The young man, however stopped his actions, as if he had lost control of his body. Inwardly he panicked, before he realized his body was doing things he didn't ask of it.
His sense of calmness suddenly vanished, only for ultimate and unbearable rage and fury to envelop his entire mind, overwhelming bloodlust seeping out of his body, a testimony to his suffering.
The snowy earth was cold, the violent snow storm not helping with the situation either.
His mouth opened for the first time by itself, ignoring the hoarseness and burning sensation inside it.
"Why...?"
"Why did you betray me after everything I did for you? I pushed myself to my absolute limit, killed everyone you needed me to kill, and in the end, you treat me like this?" The desperation and sadness was evident in the voice as he muttered in sorrow.
The man's words were carried by the wind as if ignoring the pests words.
[YOᵾ HΔVΣ FΛILΣD]
Fury igniting in his eyes, he screamed far away in the snow storm, his voice getting swallowed by it.
"What the fuck did I fail in?! You're just telling me I've failed after I've outlived my usefulness? You really are a fucking son of a bitch. Hahaha... in the end, all of you are the same, aren't you? In the end.."
The man sneered in contempt, his expression twisting into deep, revolted disgust.
"You thought of me as a mere pawn, huh?"
[You have Failed.]
The magnificent voice sounded again, unvisible due to the severity of the snow storm.
".... A mere pawn, huh...."
A man who had thought of himself as free, merely a puppet pulled using strings in the background.
He was replaceable. No, he was replaced.
Suddenly, hundred of images flickered in the man's eyes of the corpses that he had massacred, his close family members, friends, lovers, teachers, classmates. His memories of them laughing, eating with them, and talking to them threatened to overwhelm the man's mind.
Their beautiful memories together.
Their trust; he betrayed. Love; betrayed. Country; destroyed.
Yet he stood his ground, but a single tear did not fail to escape from his eye, sliding down his cheek before freezing, as if carrying its burdens of regret.
The man gritted his teeth so hard, his teeth cracked under the pressure, yet he ignored the pain, looking at the snow howling in mockery, his lips trembling.
[You were foolish. You are merely paying the prices of your foolishness.]
The young man opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. He couldn't deny the truth behind those words.
Yet, as anger consumed him, he remembered all the times they mistreated him.
They had looked at him like he a monster. After 'she' died, everything had gone awry. They hated him, and he had merely made them pay the price of their actions.
Yet a small part of himself reflect, did they really deserve it? After all he had done?
Did they really warrant a death sentence?
In the end, it was all his foolishness for revenge.
"The cost... of.. my... foolishness... ?" In the end, it was all because of his foolishness.
The young man's body was quickly freezing due to the ice.
Tearing his gaze away from the white, cold and fluffy snow, he looked at the sword stabbed into the earth in front of him, his black and white-bladed sword that had accompanied him throughout his journeys, in his happiest and worst moments, Luriel.
With the effort of a hundred men, he moved his right hand and attempted to carry the sword with his last remaining two fingers, raising it inverse, with the blade pointed towards his heart.
The young man's sorrow expression melted in an instant, turning into a frown, before breaking unexpectedly into a smile, not a smile of acceptance, but a smile of mockery.
It wasn't directed at himself, that was for sure.
"Hahaha... did you really say it was foolishness? Really, is that the best you could come up with? You thought I'd feel regret?" He sneered in visible ridicule.
[....]
Without an ounce of hesitation he raised the blade in the air, a grin adorning his face from his lift to right ear.
"I'll play your little game then~ Lets restart again until we get it right, you fucking bastards. Because next time... I'll rupture open your intestines!" The blade cut through the air sharply, before finding its way to his heart, blood spurting out of his back before steam rose, the blood freezing midair.
A gaze of madness adorning his face, the man shut his lids slowly, the desire overtaking him to finally accept his passing.
His voice turned emotionless suddenly as if nihility had embraced him.
"And it's ten for the wolf and three for the shepherd, and it's"
"One for the sheep who led by your leopard, did it" He whispered, something akin to emptiness echoing in his voice.
"Often gave his perception as a handle of weapon. Took a bite of your apple, give me all you can offer"
"All you can offer to me..." The man's eyes opened wide, before he tilted his head creepily, spacing out.
"Nothing expensive. Animas.. animas... vestra" Those were his last words, before a light hearted smile made its way upon his face.
His body quickly froze as his body temperatures dropped after his heart stopped beating, yet he didn't drop his smile. His body soon turned into a monument of ice.
"...." Time passed, and despite stabbing himself in the heart, he was still conscious of everything around him, such as the sound of the snow howling around, as if preserving his body.
A period of time passed, not too short, not too long, before small footsteps were evident on the snow as they came closer. The footsteps became louder and louder as they approached the now ice-sculpted statue.
From the sound of them, they sounded like small and delicate footsteps of a small girl. His vision still dark, he heard the girl whisper something to him, her voice gentle and soft, yet containing a hint of vainglory masked inside.
"... Re... start..."
Everything turned black, the ice statue breaking in tens of pieces.
The view of the location became smaller, showing the vast field of snow. Yet something seemed off about it. A nagging sense that the location didn't seem what it looked like at first.
The view became smaller. An island with freezing lakes flowing around it, the snow drifting on it.
And there was the frozen mountain where the young man had frozen.
The frozen mountain on closer view was not a mountain-
But hundreds of thousands of corpses clumped together and frozen by the snow to ice to form a mountain.