"Soul trial?" Hill asked, his voice barely a whisper.
He couldn't believe what was going on. One moment, he was fighting for his life in some abandoned warehouse. The next... he was being put into some trial?
But what did I even do? What the hell is going on?
His gaze shifted back to the irregular. It was standing in place, unmoving, as it had been before his death. This time, however, a gray shroud coated its entire being, making it appear as though the creature was encased in something ethereal.
Something that stopped it from moving.
"You will be granted five minutes to reclaim your life. If you are successful, you will be reborn into
It clapped its hands once more, sending a resounding echo traveling through the caged area. Well, it was more of an arena than anything else — especially now that he was being forced into a round two with the monster that had ripped him apart.
That bastard expects me to fight that irregular? I'm screwed if that's the case! Besides, I don't even have a weapon!
"You will, of course, be granted a weapon. The
The second the figure finished speaking, motes of light appeared out of thin air around Hill's right hand, swirling together until they formed a sleek staff as dark as the midnight sky. He held it up to his eyes, gazing into the dark, warped reflection that stared back at him.
It was certainly sturdy. Despite its glossy, plastic-looking material, it felt hard as steel.
But was it useful as a weapon?
"Thanks buddy, but this staff'll do jack shit against that motherfuck—"
"Your time starts now."
Hill gasped. "Okay — wait, wait, wait. Time starts now? Like, right this sec—"
The runes above him flared brightly, causing his gaze to whip toward them.
[4:59]
[4:58]
The gray shroud around the irregular shimmered once, then dissolved like smoke in the wind. It immediately bloomed, its skull dividing into four tooth-covered petals. A lengthy tongue — which Hill hadn't seen before — emerged from the center of the horrid flower, prodding the air as if searching for him.
The lure hung off the underside of one of the petals that used to constitute one half of the irregular's face. It pulsed, but Hill didn't feel anything take hold of his body.
For a moment, Hill felt his heart rate — which had risen considerably — start to settle. He was out of range of the lure. As long as he remained where he was, he could formulate a plan to defeat this thing.
But this time, the monster decided it wasn't going to wait politely.
It took a single, heavy step forward.
Hill bolted.
Nope, nope, nope! What do you mean it's moving now!?
He sprinted straight for the towering cage and scampered up the panels, climbing like his life depended on it, rung after rung with the staff clenched between his teeth.
Behind him, he heard a series of footsteps, then a vibration passed through the cage panels.
He risked a glance down.
The irregular — a static opponent back in the abandoned warehouse — had somehow ended up underneath him.
And now, it was climbing. Not like the typical, slow-moving plague beasts. No, it was moving at the pace of a youthful adult, except that its head was split open into a toothy nightmare. The lure pulsed again, and this time, Hill felt numbness creep up his legs.
He almost slipped, but with a loud groan he locked his elbows and kept going.
Higher.
Higher.
The platform shrank beneath him until it was just a pale coin far below, swallowed by swirling dark. The burning white torches nearest to the platform became pinpricks. Wind howled through the gaps in the cage. It was cold, and it was terrifying.
[2:13]
[2:12]
Hill wedged himself between two platforms, his chest heaving as he grasped the staff in one shaking hand. His whole body felt like it was on fire, his lungs burning like they were full of glass.
The irregular kept coming, climbing at a steady rate. It was maybe thirty feet below him now. And once it crossed the fifteen-foot threshold, Hill would be subjected to the pull of its lure.
A bitter laugh escaped Hill's lips, the sound immediately swallowed up by the howling darkness swirling right beside him.
"Damn it, you coward," he whispered. "You survived for eight months. Eight months! Scavenging like a rat... and the second it gets real again, you run."
He thought of his family's last moments. They had stood strong in that narrow hallway, buying enough time for Hill to escape, even if it wasn't their intention. Hill took the opportunity. He ran away as the plague beasts poured in, turning back one final time to see his mother, his father, and his twin sister get devoured in a cacophony of screams, snarls, and everything in between.
He was supposed to die then, fighting by their side to the last breath.
And now he was here. Clinging to cage panels like a scared kid.
[0:45]
[0:44]
The irregular was close enough now that Hill could see the green veins pulsing beneath the translucent skin of the lure. It throbbed with a brighter pulse. Numbness licked at his legs again.
He was going to lose. Five minutes, and he'd wasted it running.
But as he stared down at the irregular, and then at the platform below, a twisted plan formed in his mind.
It wasn't a work of genius. No, it was a concoction of desperation and self-hatred.
He twisted his body so it wasn't facing the cage... and then let go.
The monster leaned back, its maw opening wide as Hill plunged toward it.
But it had no eyes.
It couldn't see the black staff as it plunged into the very center of its open mouth, causing all four petals to converge on the staff with a loud crack. Hill wrapped his free hand around the petals, locking them against the staff and preventing them from opening again. Then he pressed his legs against the cage panels and kicked off, forcing the irregular and himself to plunge to the ground.
As the wind began to rush past his skin, Hill let out a scream that shattered into a manic cackle. The irregular tried its best to free its maw, grabbing at Hill's arm to displace it. But Hill put his entire body weight behind it, using his legs to tighten his hold on the beast.
If death was an inevitable thing, then he wasn't going to go out like some sucker.
This thing will die with me!
He twisted his body, forcing the two of them to roll in the air as they barreled toward the ground. At the last second, Hill tried to position himself above the irregular so that it would hit the ground first.
But he was too late.
The irregular twisted its body in its desperate efforts to free its maw, causing them to slam into the ground side by side, painting the marble red.
A few seconds later, the timer struck zero.
For a moment, there was only silence.
The mysterious figure descended from above silently and stared down at the blood and guts coating the arena floor. Due to the height they had fallen from, the impact had been tremendous. Their bodies were indistinguishable from one another, with only their badly broken bones indicating which bits of flesh belonged to which party.
"This is... strange," the figure began, whispering to itself as it scratched its chin curiously. "The trial has ended, yet an outcome hasn't been decided."
The glowing runes above the platform flickered, then locked at [0:00] in a blood-red flash. A low, grinding hum rolled through the cage like distant thunder. The host's skull-face tilted, its white-slash eyes narrowing.
"Simultaneous termination?" Its voice dropped, laced with something that might have been irritation... or the faintest spark of amusement. "But how can that be? Ah... Is it because there was no clear winner or loser? Bizarre. This has never happened before, not even in my wildest imaginations."
The host raised one hand. The swirling darkness around the arena thickened, causing the low howl to become a thunderous roar.
"But I can't let him vanish. The master had commanded quite explicitly for all subjects successful in defeating their respective enemies to be sent to Igashia. Therefore, I can't let him vanish." The host declared, its voice booming louder than before. "So this must be a product of his good fortune... or misfortune. Whatever it may be."
The roar grew louder, causing the towering cage to rattle as the darkness began to seep in.
The blood and guts began to separate. One portion went up in flames, disappearing into smoke, while the other condensed into a rough, humanoid shape. Limbs formed as skin reformed over muscle and tendon, recreating Hill's body.
Or at least... it attempted to.
The repair process — whatever it was — seemed to have hit a roadblock.
"What is this?" The host's eyes widened. "Ah. That is... interesting. It appears his soul has taken severe damage." It scratched its scalp in confusion. "But why? Is it because the trial ended without conclusion? Was his soul exposed to rinshu by default?"
It walked over to Hill's reforming body and observed as the flesh writhed in its efforts to reconstitute itself. In truth, this "body" wasn't a real body. It was the image of the soul — the consciousness of the human given form.
Because it was damaged to such an extent, one could only assume that after the trial ended, his body had been exposed to rinshu — a raw, primordial power that serves as the essence of the soul — and become corrupted.
In other words, he couldn't be repaired using rinshu. It was counter-intuitive.
"Unless I use unconventional means..." The host chuckled, the laugh sounding awfully sinister within the howl of the darkness storm. "I've always been curious about this. Perhaps I shall give it a try... who knows? Maybe it will succeed."
The host snapped its fingers, causing a series of swirling motes of light to appear and condense into the form of a massive golden chest covered in glistening sapphire chains. The chains came undone, causing the lid to open and reveal thousands of shimmering crystals.
With a slight smile, the host selected a few crystals and pressed them against the chest of Hill's reforming body. The moment those crystals touched the skin, a violent burst of light illuminated the arena, causing the host to cover its eyes. It grimaced, drawing back and watching as the body began to open up and devour the crystals.
But it wasn't enough.
The body needed more.
More crystals were added.
In the end, twelve crystals were all it took to bring the repair process to completion. As the host surveyed its work, it couldn't help but smile with pride. The experiment had worked after all. The very idea of using "hollows" to repair a corrupted soul had been but a mere theory. Yet it had worked surprisingly well.
"Now you are ready for transport," the host began, pressing its fingers against Hill's forehead. "Igashia awaits you, young earthling."
The body remained unmoving, as if dead. This was expected, but it wouldn't remain that way for long.
Once Hill's soul was exposed to the rinshu storm outside the arena, it would be partially awakened. And once his soul traveled through the Starlight Tunnel into Igashia, the "rebirth" process — as the Sovereigns liked to call it — would be complete.
His body would be restored, and he would live life anew, forced to contend with a world far grander and more dangerous than Earth.
Despite how cruel it sounded, it was necessary.
True armageddon was on its way to Igashia, and the earthlings were a critical component in the preparations for war.
"I hope my experiment yields positive results," the host began, raising its arms as Hill's body began to levitate upward. "It would be a shame for you to die so soon. So survive. Wreak havoc. Establish yourself upon the land that rightfully belongs to you."
It paused, watching as the cage disintegrated and the darkness rushed in.
"And if you are to die — don't worry, for we will arrive soon to claim what you have lost."
The body was swallowed by the roaring dark.
For a few moments, the darkness simply crashed into the body repeatedly, causing muted bursts of light to emerge from the thickening cloud. The host watched, a satisfied expression on its face.
The repaired soul had held stable against the rinshu storm.
But as the darkness began to ascend, carrying the body with it, a strange, unnatural whisper pierced through the rising cloud.
"…"
The host's white-slash eyes snapped wide. It stood motionless for a long moment, staring at the space where the body had been.
Then, quietly, it laughed.
"Perhaps... my experiment has failed."