The thick mist that once menacingly loomed around Furfur dimmed, and dimmed, and continued dimming until there was nothing left. The fog was not being absorbed into his avatar to reconstruct his body. No, there was hardly a body remaining there, where the Demon of the Mind once was.
A pink speckle, radiant and beautiful, resided in front of the child, whose conjured recollections of items faded out of existence.
Worthy, at the precipice of defeat, recalled and recreated War's equipment to the best of his ability in his mindscape. It was only possible in a world that was fueled by his creativity and imagination, something that was no doubt limited heavily by the damage his mind had sustained over recent days.
Moreover, in his mind, War's equipment might've been exponentially more powerful than it was in reality, as the image was conjured based on how the young man perceived the tools. Nigh-indestructible armor and a sword that eradicated anything and everything in its path without exception…
He used those tools well to find victory.
"This…" Furfur's voice was far less lively now. The Demon of the Mind had been defeated, and could no longer heal. Yet even when only a small fragment of him remained, radiating with life that would soon be snuffed away, he had enough of himself left to muster words.
It's because he was not a man, but rather, an entity conjured from a deity.
"This… is intolerable…! Why? Everything… It was all where it… needed to be! Why?!" The Demon of the Mind's voice was laced with… surprising emotion. It had fully consumed whoever Edwin Redglaive was in order to make him his main host—or this is what the boy assumed judging by how different the body was compared to the other thralls—and so it had also inherited the man's emotions and his understanding of them.
Perhaps the rage and confusion Furfur felt now was the emergence of Edwin Redglaive's emotions in his last moments.
"It's unfair…! I am ancient! I am… powerful, brilliant! How… How can I fail?! Fall to some ignorant child?!"
Worthy listened to the bitter words of the entity. The contempt laced in his voice was insuperable. All the composure he once feigned was no longer visible, and now it never would be. The Demon of the Mind played his name, and he lost.
Still, Worthy had a few parting words of his own:
'Because I hate you.'
The child's avatar loomed over the radiant orb, with no face to express what he was feeling. Like all things, though, both could tell they were observing the others.
"...What?" There was a sense of perplexity in Furfur's voice now.
'You lost because I hate you. Everything about you, from the things you've done to what you stand for. I despise you more than you know, so I was willing to put my everything on the line to make sure that you never escaped from here.'
It was true.
Worthy had fought a high-stakes battle against Furfur, who had never experienced the same. The demon was almost invisible, unable to be killed by most humans before their minds were forced to succumb to the mist he manipulated. Furthermore, in the physical world, anyone or anything that came into range with Furfur—or Edwin Redglaive—and his mist to battle him would slowly have their thoughts eaten away until they were his thrall too.
'All you exist to do is take. You and every other blob of flesh on this god-forsaken Floor. You said earlier that there were different types of monsters. The Enlightened and the Mindless. I don't give a damn about any of them. All of you are the same. Each and every single one of you has the same purpose, and a different method. We all entered this place to have our wish fulfilled. Yet, now we've been trapped by some elaborate scheme to kill us all off.'
Worthy figured it out some time ago.
The boy thought that the Tower was solely responsible for creating Gateways in accordance with monsters who were defeated. That might've been true a long time ago, but now that idea was no longer accurate. There were monsters with thoughts and intelligence. The world itself was alive and trying to return to its fullest condition, where it would devour everything, potentially the Tower itself.
There weren't any Gateways because the monsters were purposely removing them all. It was the perfect plot to infinitely feed itself.
More people would enter into the Tower, unaware that the First Floor has been rendered an unconquerable death trap. Those who were lucky enough to return and tell stories would've had no idea how deeply the sinister machinations went. It was the perfect set up.
With nowhere to go, eventually humans would fall to despair or become solaced. They'd wait for their inevitable death, or keep going out seeking more Gateways, only to end up courting death eventually anyway, as there were no true rewards to killing the abominations.
'You made us livestock. Maybe it wasn't you, but the entity you're trying to revive; or another intelligent, evil bastard. I don't know. Really, I don't think I care either. I only know I want to reach the top floor of this place, and you've held me here. You've held an uncountable number of others here too, but more specifically, you've kept me here. Do you even know who's waiting for me outside?'
Slowly, the avatar reached a hand out, and those hands gripped the sphere that embodied the remaining fragment of Furfur's mind.
'That's why you lost. You stood in my way; you took away my freedom, twice; you caused the death of hundreds of people I could've relied on to help me reach the top. If there are more monsters like you, then they'll all die too. Not to my hands, no, there's no way I'll ever get the opportunity to kill something like you again… But others with more power will. War Reaver is marching us up the Tower, and I have hope that he will.'
Furfur let out a shattering sound, and spoke, "You… Do you trust him? That… War… You think he can… defeat the Guardian…?"
It was a pointless attempt at trying to make the child despair. Even on the verge of death, the Demon of the Mind was still playing games.
'Yes.' The boy answered simply. 'If not him, then there is no one else who can.'
Something about those words sparked something in the sphere. Its radiant grew subtly, and briefly, a sound was here:
"...Ha…"
Then, Worthy crushed the sphere in his hand, and the fragment of Furfur was destroyed.
And then, the Tower whispered to him:
[Climber Worthy, you have defeated Furfur of the Mind.]
[For this achievement, you will receive a Reward.]
[You have received: [Kleptoparasitism]. Guides must be willing to steal to reach their destination, Climber Worthy.]