Elias
The name echoed loudly in his head. The noise was unbearable—it was akin to the sound of a screaming banshee.
The dealer—no, Elias—was shivering. He felt wrong; his head felt wrong, everything felt wrong. It was as though something was crawling its way into his mind, an unnerving feeling.
His face was pale, and his breathing had suddenly quickened. That's when he realized it. He was terrified.
[???] Get up and run.
Elias froze. Who had just spoken?
[???] I said RUN.
The mysterious demand seemed to come from nowhere, yet he felt compelled to obey. No—he had no choice; his body obeyed for him.
Without realizing it, he had already run outside the room. Elias could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The foreign sense of fear he felt now wasn't born of caution; it was primal, wild.
A new sound infiltrated his ears—the sound of shattering glass. It drowned out the heartbeat that had been assaulting him.
Soon enough, he found himself on the grass. The same grass that had greeted him after his first intrusion on Ardent's property.
Ardent? Elias thought, confused.
Why was the name so familiar on his tongue?
Well, obviously, it was because he was the subject Elias had been studying for the last day and a half.
Right?
His shoes left the ground for a moment with a strength that shouldn't have been achievable by a mundane human; he leaped over the towering fence again.
[???] Come on, Elias… RUN.
The voice felt mocking in a way. He could hear the subtle notes of amusement in it.
Confusion crawled its way under his skin. Who exactly was talking to him?
Without thinking, he suddenly yelled, "SHUT UP!"
With a growl that sounded more beast than man, he proclaimed so.
The rushing adrenaline tunneled his vision, leaving him to see only out of his peripheral. What he did see, however, only made his panic escalate further.
The dim streetlights flickered as he passed, and the shadows around him seemed to move.
"What the hell is happening?!" The scream tore through his throat with a feeling that could only be described as agonizing.
The trembling in his body only worsened with time.
[Elias] "––––"
A sharp exhale—no, two—was all he had every minute. With each step, a gasp accompanied it, making Elias feel as if he were drowning.
Somehow, in some way, that crystal had done something to him—something even he hadn't heard of.
The panic in his chest felt like a rope, and with each step, he was tightening it. For now, Elias just had to hope it wouldn't suddenly go taut.
Everything about his situation felt wrong. He was the dealer, for goodness' sake! He wasn't supposed to be fearful!
So why, when he looked down, was his hand twitching? Why, when he listened to himself, was he panting so desperately?
[Elias] "Pure… absurdity."
With great effort, Elias was able to spit out those cursing words.
To whom was he cursing? Not even Elias knew. All he knew was that his situation was someone's fault.
Was it the young man who had offered him such a high price for the job? Or the general who had put the crystal in plain sight?
While his heart raced, the only conclusion Elias could make was that the blame landed on his own shoulders.
His vision was warped, and the constant running strained his lungs and legs. But every single time Elias began to slow down, he would hear that accursed voice again.
[???] "You can't stop now, runnn~"
The sing-songy voice berated him with torment. Whatever it was, it was mocking him—and to that, Elias was outraged.
How dare something show pity toward him? How dare they look down on him? He was the greatest thief in the alleyways; nothing but awe should be felt toward him.
Those arrogant thoughts were the only thing keeping him running. He could not allow himself to give up.
So, in the quiet, almost ethereal night, there stood one anomaly—no, the correct wording would be ran.
It was Elias.
Regardless of whether there were people nearby, regardless of whether they thought him mad, Elias would not stop. That was the promise he made to himself in that moment.
Soon, the rhythm of his footsteps was replaced by a ringing in his ears. The noise felt alien but strangely familiar. He almost felt a sense of déjà vu from it.
Elias needed to stop; at this rate, he might pass out—or worse.
Those thoughts plagued him for a while, and after thinking, he let out a bitter laugh—though it sounded more like a desperate cough.
He was far past the point of coming out of this unharmed. In fact, he was sure the only reason he was still running—still able to move—was the pure terror and adrenaline coursing through him.
Despite what one might think, his exhaustion didn't hit all at once. Instead, it crept into him in waves. Slowly but deliberately, it sapped away each bit of strength that kept him going, and it was clear he was moving at a significantly slower pace.
It felt like the world itself wanted him to feel every single second before it took him away.
So Elias wanted to ask, why him? What had he done to the world that made it want to punish him like so?
Elias's legs trembled; everything felt against him. The air was too thick; his chest too heavy. The pulses on his arms and neck throbbed, and the ringing in his ears still rang out clearly.
Yet he could feel it. Those feelings were beginning to fade—and that scared Elias.
He stumbled forward, his hands meeting the pavement before the rest of his body did. Dirt and dust pressed against his palms—or at least, he thought so.
Despite pushing against the concrete, he felt nothing. It seemed his sense of touch was gone, too.
[Elias] "Ah."
His vision was next. The edges of the world blurred; every color began to bleed into another until they all turned black.
[Elias] "Not yet…"
Though he spoke with what he thought was defiance, he could not hear it. Warmth drained from his limbs, and his body went limp.
I refuse to die like this, Elias thought.
To that, all he heard was a scoff. It was normal—until he realized it wasn't. His hearing was gone, so how could he hear anything?
Almost as if the voice could read his thoughts, Elias heard a laugh.
Then, he lost consciousness.