His footsteps echoed through the moonlight, his emerald coat drenched as a result of the re-occurring downpour.
Lightning flashed through the sky and the unrelenting thunder uproared.
It's thunderclaps soared through the sky.
Walking across the deserted street was a teenage looking figure. brown haired and black eyed. His eyes twitched.
His gaze void of life or human emotions.
One could say he's a walking corpse.
That's Craig Humphrey, a 19 year old drop out from Harvard University. After the death of his parents.
He had no legal guardian neither was there a supporter who would sponsor his education.
Now he's nothing but just an ordinary drunk battling Schizophrenia.
He exhaled a sigh.
He clenched the handle of a yellow umbrella on his right hand and a black nylon to his left hand. blocking the intense downpour from wetting his face while ignoring his coat.
There was reticence in the air.
Only his footsteps resounded, echoing from every angle.
His movements were unpredictable, at one point. One could tell he's moving forward until he takes a turn.
Making his way into a corner. It took him a few minutes before he reached his destination.
An old abandoned building located at the outskirt of the city. Even though it's an abandoned building, he still pays rent.
$200 per month
He exhaled a deep sigh.
"Home sweet home" He whispered.
He heaved softly, he deeped his hand into his pocket and he brought out a key, he quickly inserted the key into the padlock and the door was unlocked.
The wooden door creaked open.
Craig entered into the darkness, the air reeked. If Craig hadn't gotten used to this stench, he would be feeling nauseous by now.
He had the door closed and he locked it afterwards.
Craig quickly approached the wooden table beside him, he switched on the lamp.
Enveloping the entirety of the diminutive room in brown radiating light, the lamp shimmered from the table.
Craig quickly took off his raincoat, he tossed it on the ground.
Staring at his dirty room, the room was a disaster zone, clothes scattered everywhere and dust bunnies multiplying under the bed.
The air was thick with the smell of a stale sweat and yesterday's Chinese takeout. Faded curtains hung crookedly.
Filtering the dim light that struggled through the grimy windows. It was a space that seemed to have given up.
Where chaos reigned supreme.
Craig brought out a wooden arm chair and he took his seat, sitted before the table. He uncovered the items in the nylon he brought.
Craig brought out a pair of leucotome, a pair of orbitoclast and a cranial drill.
Staring at the tools, his heart skipped a beat.
This weren't ordinary tools Craig could obtain, they are surgical tools mainly owned by certified hospitals.
He had to maneuver his way and get his hands on this tools.
Why?
It's because of what's he's about to do, right now…
Craig is performing a lobotomy.
Since he was diagnosed with schizophrenia, his mental state was already deteriorating at a rapid pace.
He's been going through series of hallucinations, he's being sent to the metal institute frequently but sent out because he lacked the funds to treat himself.
This was his only option.
Since he doesn't have any medical expert who could help him perform the lobotomy. He had to do it himself.
At first he pondered over his decision, he burst into tears. His heart flustered, overwhelmed with emotions.
He wept for a few minutes, soaked in despair.
Craig brought out his phone from his pocket, he inserted his password, seconds later he went straight to YouTube.
He browsed out a video which had the procedures needed to practice private lobotomy.
He clicked a video and it started playing.
Craig rested his back on the arm chair he sat on, he exhaled once again.
Breathing in the cold air he felt.
He grabbed the cranial drill from the table, he had to rewind the video so it would start from scratch.
He quietly listened to the instruction and placed the cranial drill close to his right eye.
He felt his heart racing.
Uprising tension soared through the sky as Craig began sweating profusely.
He had nothing to lose.
No life, no friends, no family.
This is his only option to cure his schizophrenia. Every day it keeps worsening.
As instructed, Craig placed the cranial drill close to his right eyeball, slowly drilling into his face.
He winced.
He could feel the intense pain, his legs quivered and his hands was already dripping with sweats.
But he retained his composure.
Craig continued the process, drilling into his face. He screamed out, gritting his teeths while blood flowed down his cheeks.
His body shivered.
But he's still breathing.
Craig pulled out the cranial drill from his face and he grabbed the leucotome which was used to disrupt the connections between the prefrontal cortex and other parts of the brain.
Once done, he reaches out and grabbed the orbitoclast from the table.
Just as instructed, Craig inserted the orbitoclast through his eye socket, deepening it into his brain area.
His hands slipped due to the tension and the sweatiness of his hands.
He quickly grabbed the orbitoclast and continued the procedure. Aiming sever the connections in the frontal lobe by being tapped with a mallet.
Just then the lamp went off.
Engulfing the room is complete darkness, Craig's eyes twitched.
"What the hell just happened?" His voice echoed.
His body was already quivering in fear. He knew the dangers he's currently in.
Craig couldn't dare move an inch from where he sat, the orbitoclast is still inside his face.
Craig made use of his hands, searching for the lamp.
Squeak! Squeak!
Faint noises echoed from the shadows, Craig struggled to reach the lamp without moving his face.
He grabbed the lamp and he turned it on back.
Just as the light flickered, before Craig stood a rat.
His gaze widened, Craig was left dumbfounded.
"A rat?" He screamed out.
Craig who had Mushophobia jolted back.
Overwhelmed with fear, he crashed his back on the ground, he shattered the wooden chair at the process.
Hitting his back with heavy thud.
Unbeknownst to Craig, due to the intense of the crash, the orbitoclast sunk deep into his face. Piercing into his brain.
"Fuck" Craig voiced, realizing what had just happened.
His eyes blurred.
Craig collasped on the ground.
Struggling to move even a single limbs, within a few minutes. He was drenched in his own pool of bloods.
Seconds later, his heart stopped beating.
All Craig saw was the absolute darkness.
A space void of light…
Just then a distorted voice echoed from the nothingness.
[A new soul has been detected, what should we do?"]
A question was asked.
[Is that a question? If there's a new soul, transfer him into the Hades Project, the underworld isn't accepting new souls]
Another distorted baritone voice erupted.
In the space of emptiness was two entities discussing amongst themselves.
Sitted before the round wooden table, their forms were humaniod but they were without shape. Faceless creatures.
And before their gaze existed a round chessboard, filled up with chess pieces.
The second figure whose existence emanates darkness brought out a chess piece as he continued his speech.
It's brows furrowed.
[Since the Demon Lord was killed by the SSS-Class Heroes, I became enwrapped with loads of work]
[The Demon Lord was the final destination, a fixed point]
[And now that he's dead, there's imbalance in the Hades Project]
The voice uttered
[Hades would be mad once he finds out]
The distorted voice added.
[Wait, the Demon Lord's soul was destroyed by the Heroes right?]
The first distorted voice echoed.
[Yes? His soul was destroyed, only his body remains]
[Ah. I see...Hades would never find out if the Demon Lord never died in the first place]
[Huh? What are you talking about?]
[If the Demon Lord's soul was vanquished, shouldn't we just replace his soul?]
[I understand what you're trying to say but this is a mortal soul. A mortal soul cannot withstand the powers of the Demon Lord]
[It would disintegrate]
[I'm aware of that but what if we make modifications to the soul of this mortal?]
[Instead of simply transferring him into the Hades Project as a normal player. We will be suspending him into the Phantom Zone]