The camera flashes muddled his mind, his thoughts getting slower by every second. The panicked voices of people around him grew louder and more confused. His vision blurred, and yet he tried again and again to see the face of the person who had just stabbed him.
"Hey! Get him back. Get him back."
"Shit! Someone call paramedics fast."
He focused harder.
What he saw was a kid. Tears ran down his face, his eyes burning with rage. As he screamed, he twisted the cold metal deeper into his flesh. Even when two police officers dragged him away, the kid managed to drive the blade in once more.
After a brief struggle, the kid was finally pulled back.
"Let go! He killed my dad, I'm gonna kill him."
His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees. The world swayed, dark at the edges, but after a moment, he finally recognized the face that had stabbed him.
Ah. Noah.
Blood poured from the wound, splashing onto the courtyard's stone ground, spreading in uneven crimson streaks. The warmth and pain weren't unfamiliar. He forced his mind to clear and crawled forward toward the kid despite the restraints biting into his wrists.
In that moment, their eyes met, and he felt the urge to say something.
He raised his handcuffed hands, lost his balance, and nearly collapsed before the officers beside him steadied him.
Noah's hands trembled, soaked in blood. The kid had probably never seen this much blood before.
He reached out, took Noah's shaking hands and wiped the blood—his blood onto the grey fabric of his hoodie.
Then he placed a gentle hand on the kid's head and looked straight into his eyes.
Noah's eyes were different from his own, not hollow but holding innocence and hatred, with regret and sorrow buried beneath.
There were many things he wanted to say.
He didn't know where to start. He was never good at putting into words what he truly meant. Apologizing felt wrong, a greeting felt meaningless. His thoughts refused to settle.
His vision darkened.
There wasn't much time left. So he chose.
"Y-You are n-not a killer."
His consciousness faded.
A vile creature had died.
***
It felt like eons had passed, as if he had been sleeping in the sweet slumber of death, in a faraway dark void, the kind of rest he had always wanted. Then, suddenly, his consciousness stirred.
He was staring up at a blue sky filled with drifting clouds.
He lay flat on the cold surface, his mind crowded with questions and half-formed answers.
A dream?
No.
Was this hell?
No.
Steadying himself, he stood up.
In every direction stretched emerald-coloured water, shallow enough to cover his feet. When he looked down, he didn't find any surface, only a dark, mysterious depth.
He noticed his reflection then.
He had no hair on his body, no clothes, no facial features, just eyes like a blank slate.
He touched his face to confirm it; he didn't panic.
More questions formed in his mind, but finding their answers didn't feel urgent.
"Death brings the ultimate peace. It is benevolent to both the sinner and the innocent."
A voice.
It came from behind him, a place that he had already checked.
He turned slowly.
A man sat calmly on a chair beside a small white table, lifting a cup. He wore a black suit, and a strip of fabric covered his eyes. His mid-length hair was an unusual mix of blonde and white.
"Come, take a seat," the man said.
"Tea or coffee, whatever you prefer."
Matthew approached the table and sat down. He wanted to say something, but he didn't have a mouth, so he simply looked at the man across from him.
His expression was unreadable, after a brief moment the unknown man snapped his fingers.
A familiar sensation returned.
Matthew opened his mouth and exhaled softly.
"Milk. Do you have it?"
"Huh?"
The man paused. He had been expecting questions, but not this one.
"Oh. Yes."
He glanced at the table. A glass of milk materialized within a soft yellow glow.
Matthew picked it up immediately and began drinking. He took his time savouring every drop, the milk was unexpectedly better than what was present on earth.
The man watched him in silence.
After finishing the glass, Matthew placed it back on the table. "May I have another serving?"
The man didn't answer.
The empty glass was filled again, slowly, to the brim.
Matthew drank.
"It's good." He said. When he finished, he reached for the glass a third time. The man still said nothing.
Only after Matthew swallowed the last mouthful did the man speak. As if his patience reached its limits.
"Don't you have questions?"
Burp.
Matthew covered his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I suppose I do," he said after a moment. "But I'm not sure what I'd do with the answers. If you're willing, you may tell me everything yourself."
The man tilted his head slightly.
Something about this was definitely wrong.
The soul before him wasn't reacting the way he expected. There was no panic, no desperation, no frantic need for an explanation. The soul he summoned before Matthew asked, where, why, and how?
This one asked for milk.
But Matthew was a soul from the Void. It's only natural for him to be different.
"I am Eres," the man said at last. His voice deepened, echoing through the open space. "The Celestial of Light and Fear. This is my domain."
"A Celestial?" Matthew asked. "So... a god?"
"From your perspective."
Matthew nodded once, as if that settled it.
"Why did you bring me back from 'that' place?"
"Hm..?" Even with his eyes covered, Matthew sensed the confusion, a brief pause before the answer came.
"How much time do you think has passed, Matthew?" Eres asked instead.
Matthew considered it for a moment. "Hmm… Long enough that counting in human years stopped making sense. But it felt... Peaceful. Unsettlingly so."
"Forget it."
Eres straightened, folding his hands together. "I'll be direct. I have a task for you. Complete the mission I assign, and I shall grant you whatever you desire."
He tilted his head, a faint smile forming beneath the cloth.
"It's a generous offer, don't you think?" he added softly. "And it isn't a request."
The air around Matthew shifted.
Suddenly, an eerie, suffocating feeling crept into his body.
His naked body began to tremble.
But—
Matthew smiled.
"It's a generous offer," he said softly. "But I'll have to refuse. Please send me back to being dead."
The smile on Eres's face vanished.
The sky darkened, bleeding into red. The table disappeared, and Matthew fell.
Eres rose into the air, his body radiating an incomprehensible, sinister glow.
From the depths below, rotted black hands emerged. They seized Matthew's limbs and closed around his neck. Nails like spikes grew from the rotten flesh, piercing into his body.
Pain tore through him. Overwhelming and raw.
"It seems you don't understand your position," Eres said.
The space itself resounded with his voice.
It was no longer singular. Each word echoed as if spoken by thousands of existences at once, pressing down on Matthew from every direction.
"I already told you this is not a request, Matthew Larson."
The rotted hands tightened around Matthew's body, lifting him higher into the air. His neck strained as they forced his head up.
His eyes met Eres's face.
His chest convulsed. No breath came.
"It would be wise for you to accept what I'm offering, Matthew," Eres said. "The kind of life you lived, the atrocities you committed, the families you ruined, all of it makes you deserving of eternal suffering. And yet, I am offering you a chance."
The pressure shifted, just enough.
Matthew dragged in a shallow, burning breath.
"Des..per..ate."
"What?"
"You are," Matthew rasped, forcing the last word out, "desperate."
In that instant, the rotted hands released Matthew.
Eres was already there.
His fingers closed around Matthew's neck, not with restraint, but with raw force. The other hand clenched into a fist and drove straight into Matthew's abdomen.
There was no warning. No hesitation.
Matthew was sent crashing into the emerald-colored water. The impact tore through him, driving the breath from his body as he skidded across the surface, dragged back by an unseen force.
"Your insolence," Eres said, his voice low and tight, "knows no limits."
When Matthew finally stopped, his chest seized. No air came.
His torso felt absent, yet it burned with relentless pain.
He gasped, clawing for breath, until at last a shallow inhale broke through.
"H-haha…"
"Your desperation is leaking all over."
He dragged the words out through pain.
"Eternal suffering?"
"Go ahead. Show me what eternal suffering looks like."
Eres looked down at Matthew. The irritation was there, simmering, but he didn't have the time to indulge it. Slowly, he steadied himself.
"Why do you put yourself through pain?" he asked. "All you have to do is obey me, and I can grant you anything you desire."
Matthew lay flat for a moment, then forced himself upright. Pain was there, but his voice remained calm.
"If you're so eager to give something," he said, "then grant me death. Erase me."
He met Eres's gaze.
"Do whatever you want. My answer won't change."
Something in Eres snapped.
"Enough." The air warped violently around them.
"You dare speak of death so lightly?" his voice thundered, stripped of its earlier restraint.
"After everything you've done, after the lives you've destroyed, you think peaceful death awaits you?"
He laughed, sharp and bitter.
"Redemption? Death? Peace?"
His expression twisted.
"If you believe in any of that," Eres said, voice tight, "then there's nothing waiting for you."
"If you refuse," he continued, anger bleeding through his words, "then fine. You'll stay here. I'll break you slowly, and you'll feel every second of it."
His mouth twisted.
"I'm going to die anyway," he snapped. "So I might as well keep you here and tear you apart until the end."
Matthew chuckled.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was pathetic.
"They say anger's your biggest enemy," he said. "Didn't think I'd hear a god prove it out loud."
He winced, then smiled again. "Sure. Let's suffer together."
"Agh! Fuck. Do you really have no fear?" Eres's voice cracked with frustration.
"You humans are the worst creatures in the universe. The last one I chose was a traitor. I gave him everything, and he vanished."
His gaze burned into Matthew.
"And now there's you."
Eres descended, his feet touching the emerald-colored water without a sound.
A sharp snap echoed through the space.
In an instant, they were back at the table. The pain gnawing at Matthew vanished. The sky returned to blue. Everything settled into stillness.
Everything. Except Eres's face.
Whatever composure he had left was gone, replaced by irritation, anger, and something far worse: desperation.
Matthew took a moment to examine his body. The pain was gone.
After that, he looked up casually.
"So that's why you brought me back from death?" he asked. "Because you got scammed by a human?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"I'm not sure you fit the image of a god."
Eres scoffed.
"Ugh. Yes. Are you happy now?" he snapped. "Go on, laugh. Let me see your teeth. I'll break them one by one."
Matthew didn't react.
"Whatever your problem is," he said evenly, "it's yours. You dragged me here."
He paused.
"I can't do what you want. I don't want to keep existing. I broke a promise. I committed a mistake that can't be undone."
"Just... let me stay dead."
Eres let out a dry laugh.
"Aww. What a depressed soul," he mocked. "If someone heard that without knowing you, they might actually feel sorry for you."
Matthew met his gaze.
"You only know what I did," he said quietly. "Not who I am."
"Don't try to act human in front of me," Eres said dryly. "I know you're good at it."
Then something sparked in his eyes.
"You love killing, don't you?" he continued. "In your world, you were always weighed down by police, laws, rules made to restrain people like you."
He leaned forward slightly.
"So how about this?"
"A world where you can kill without consequence. Where power decides what's right, and the strong bend every law society hides behind."
"You'd thrive there."
Matthew's face remained blank. But his eyes widened. His fingertips twitched. He licked his lips without realizing it.
For a moment, something dangerous flickered behind his gaze.
Then it vanished.
He steadied himself, composure snapping back into place.
"It's an exciting offer," Matthew said. "But sadly, no. Send me back to being dead."
Eres didn't speak at first.
He had expected this. And now, he finally knew how to proceed.
Carefully, he opened his mouth.
This time, it wasn't an offer.
It was a name.
A name Matthew had never allowed himself to think about.
"How about him?" Eres said quietly.
"A chance to kill him. To tear him apart with your own hands."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"You remember everything, don't you?" His voice lowered.
"Think about it, Matthew Larson. Only I can give you the chance to kill him again."
Matthew's pupil trembled. His lips slowly twisted into a smile. One that had nothing human left in it.
Before Eres could say anything more, Matthew burst into laughter.
Not like before.
This time, it was deep. Twisted.
For the first time since the day he came into existence, the Celestial of Light and Fear felt uneasy