Thousands.
Thousands of Alter Egos stood before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, filling the horizon like a black wave ready to consume everything.
Their bodies were blurred, dark mist swirling around those grotesque forms—eyes without pupils, mouths without lips, and bodies that drooped like paintings smeared in rage.
And me?
I smiled. A crooked smile that didn't belong to a sane man.
"So… this is death?" I whispered quietly.
Then I chuckled.
"In that case… this is the perfect ending. I have no regrets. Not even a little."
I charged.
Without hesitation, without thought. Like a primitive beast, I hurled myself into the horde of Alter Egos with a body torn raw and a bloodlust that could not be quenched.
KRAKK!!
Their bones snapped as I grabbed and twisted them by force.
SPLURT!!
I tore out their eyes with my fingers, spraying black, steaming blood.
SHLIK!!
I broke their necks, then slashed them with the edges of my hand—now sharp as scythe blades.
I shredded them like old rags. And it was… delightful.
No—intoxicating.
I chuckled. Then laughed. Then screamed with laughter as I tore their heads open and devoured the brains straight from their skulls. Thick black liquid streamed from the corners of my mouth.
"HAHAHA… IS THIS HEAVEN?!"
I screamed like a madman.
"WHY ARE THEIR BRAINS… SO SWEET?! WHY AM I ENJOYING THIS?!"
I licked the blood from my fingers. My grin was feral, eyes wide open.
"I guess… I really have gone mad."
...
"Young man, are you hallucinating?"
A voice emerged—flat, light… and very real.
I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry for a moment, then suddenly sharp. I sat up quickly and turned my head.
The man.
The bearded, mustached man from before. His robe was the same—black robe, fluttering gently in a wind from nowhere.
I narrowed my eyes. "Looks like… I didn't die."
He nodded slightly. "Of course. You're still alive—here," he said calmly, like a spring of water in a desert of madness.
I turned my head, scanning the surroundings.
The sky was more purple than before. The fog was thinner, but the air felt heavier.
Then… I froze.
My vision.
Sharper. Wider. I could see dark particles drifting in the air, and the texture of distant stone structures that should have been impossible to perceive.
Instinctively, I raised my hand—and stopped.
My hand… had regrown.
But it wasn't human anymore.
It was longer, thinner, with curved black nails sharp like a demon's claws. Dark veins pulsed beneath a thin, semi-transparent skin.
"What… is this?"
The man looked at me, then spoke lightly:
"It seems your madness while devouring the Alter Ego… triggered an evolution in your body. Be grateful for what you've gained. This world doesn't offer many gifts."
"Evolution?" I repeated, half-question, half-shock.
I examined my body. My bones were denser. My breath deeper. I felt a strength I'd never known before… and something slithering in my mind—a faint voice, like a whisper from another dimension.
"You know a lot, old man," I muttered, eyes narrowed, studying his every move.
"Haha, don't call me old. I just arrived here before you," he replied casually.
Then he offered me something.
A bowl.
"Here. Eat. Your body must be in disarray. Proper food… is the most important thing now."
I took it.
Inside the bowl was soup.
Warm, steaming, with a strange but tempting aroma. There were pieces of black root, thick liquid like bone broth, and floating purplish leaves. Despite its alien look, my body responded immediately just from the scent.
"Where did you find ingredients like this?" I asked, suspicious.
He pointed at me and gave a faint smile.
"Are you seriously asking about logic… in a place like this?"
I gave a small nod. Deep down, I knew… this place wasn't the real world. There were no natural laws. No morality. Only will—and survival.
I sipped the soup slowly. It tasted sharp, hot, and somehow… healing.
Minutes passed in silence, with only the sound of the wooden spoon and bubbling soup. After finishing, I looked at him intently.
"I'm Rayne Whole," I said softly. "Who are you, old man?"
He smiled—and that smile made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
A smile with no kindness. No malice. Just… observation.
"Loki." he said, his voice deeper than before.
"Nice to meet you, Rayne."