When I finally managed to get up, I noticed that my body was covered in glowing cracks — unstable wounds that pulsed, bleeding both light and darkness at the sa ti, as if my very essence was fracturing between two opposing extres.
It was the first ti I’d been hurt in such a strange and deep way, and even though it seed terribly serious, my regeneration kicked in almost imdiately. Slowly, the cracks started closing up, as if ti itself was being reversed only on my skin, until there was no trace left of what had happened.
Besides that, even though it hurt, sohow it was bearable. Strangely acceptable. My way of thinking was no longer that of an ordinary human — maybe because my pain tolerance had reached unimaginable levels? I felt, with an unsettling certainty, that even if my head was cut off, I would still be alive, aware, as if nothing had happened.
And honestly, I can’t imagine that the pain of having my head chopped off is worse than being mutilated, piece by piece, while still breathing. But the truth was that I was struggling — even if it didn’t seem like it. These wounds weren’t normal. I could feel them slowly creeping through my body, as if they were seeping between my bones and organs, eating away from the inside with a dull, constant pain.
It was an insane, chaotic, uncontrollable force — as if chaos itself had taken form and was now trying to twist , break apart from within, bit by bit. Every step I took required imnse effort not to give in to the distortion that was slowly eating away at my form, as if trying to undo from the inside out.
anwhile, she hovered at the center of the vortex she’d summoned, suspended in the air like the world around her had stopped mattering. Her silhouette pulsed at an irregular, unsettling rhythm, alive and threatening, as if directly connected to the heart of the anomaly — a beacon of chaos ready to burst.
(You’re part of the puzzle, but you don’t own the pieces) whispered the voice, wrapped in a dense, misty murmur — an invisible web slowly and suffocatingly wrapping around my mind, squeezing my chest with cold, silent claws: (I rewrite reality. And you... you’re just a mistake that needs fixing)
I listened carefully to her words while looking down. Silently, I raised my hand in front of my eyes and stared at the cracks cutting through my palm. My whole body throbbed with pain — and the strangest part was that, even though I was anomalous, without muscles or bones, I could swear every nonexistent fiber was screaming.
It was like the pain wasn’t in the body, but in the mind — yet every part of felt it with frightening clarity. A strange, confusing sensation, like my own body was just mimicking the suffering of sothing no longer human.
The cracks spreading over my skin seed to drain every drop of my life energy. The pain was constant, almost pulsing, like sothing inside was breaking along with the flesh.
However, whenever I thought I was about to reach my limit, a stubborn spark — like a fla refusing to go out — reignited inside , holding up for just a little longer.
Still, even as my body gradually gave way, sinking into inevitable collapse, my eyes couldn’t look away from the figure before . More precisely, from the eyes of the entity standing there.
Even as she wounded , cracks began spreading across my body — tearing the skin with sharp pain, slowly twisting my essence from within. Tears ran endlessly down her face, sliding silently, as if trying to erase the anguish consuming . It was as if, sohow impossibly, she shared my deep pain, like every blow she struck left an invisible scar on her own heart as well.
Even though I was the one hurt, even though my body was marked by cracks that bled silently, it was as if with each new wound opening on my skin, sothing inside — an invisible, aching soul — was tearing apart inside, ripped to pieces. Yet that sa soul persisted, not out of hatred for , not out of a desire for my death, nor out of malice.
It persisted simply out of despair. A deep, despairing despair that didn’t co from hate, but from emptiness — from the terror of not understanding, of knowing nothing. A despair of existing, of being aware of your own presence yet trapped in the anguish of not knowing the reason, the purpose, the essence behind that existence.
As I kept my gaze fixed on her, on the delicate contours of her face, the distortions around began to speed up, as if ti itself was unraveling into thinner and thinner threads.
With every second, the false reality grew more unstable — that field, which had once seed infinite and serene, now revealed itself as a trembling glass surface, about to shatter into a thousand pieces.
The sky above trembled in silent waves, as if struggling to stay whole, resisting an invisible force that threatened to tear it apart. And she… she remained there, floating, imrsed in unsettling stillness, but sothing had changed in her — a subtle shadow crossing her eyes.
She no longer seed to be fighting the instability — on the contrary, she seed to be feeding it, almost as if welcoming it. Her form flickered with increasing intensity, pulsing like a living fla consuming the very ruin of the world around her.
Fragnts of light and shadow danced across her skin, reflecting the latent chaos. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic, shone with contradictory hues — gold and violet, like fire and night intertwined, symbolizing at once light and darkness, hope and despair, locked in a silent battle within her.
And when she spoke, her voice echoed like a silent thunder, reverberating directly inside , penetrating every corner of my mind: (I will destroy you...) And in the silence that followed, her words continued, sharp as invisible blades: (And so, finally, I will… reclaim what is missing inside )
The field around us shook violently at the resonance of her words, as if the dinsion itself had beco aware and filled with deep fear. The air grew thick, heavy with an almost tangible tension.
She descended slowly, with an almost supernatural grace, until she touched the fake ground beneath her feet, which seed to crack under her weight. Then she reached out her right hand toward — not a gesture of peace, but a deliberate choice, loaded with aning. There was sothing solemn, almost ceremonial, about that movent.
(Even if I have to destroy everything for it) she said with frightening calm, her eyes shining with fierce determination: (This ridiculous prison... this fake space… I will destroy them completely)
Then she closed her hand. The world responded without delay. A dull, oppressive roar reverberated through the air, as if the very earth had whispered a fatal warning. Shortly after, a dark crack opened in the sky, snaking like a black lightning bolt tearing through the clouds and swallowing the light around it.
At that very mont, gravity jolted with brutal force. My feet left the ground, and my body was ripped upward, thrown into the void that opened beyond — not as if I were falling, but as if I were being expelled, cast out from the illusion.
(I’ll do whatever it takes) she said, her voice steady, almost a whisper filled with pain. Her eyes locked onto mine, glowing with a fierce mix of determination and deep hurt, as if every word was a silent vow: (I’m going to take back everything you took from )
There was no ti to question. The reality around us shattered like glass smashed by a hamr. Shards of blue sky — a fake, almost unreal blue — exploded in all directions, like fragnts of a fragile dream evaporating into the air.
The ground beneath our feet cracked, breaking into thousands of pieces that floated slowly around us, as if pieces of a nightmare were being torn forcefully from my subconscious, leaving a cold emptiness in my chest.
For a brief mont, everything dissolved into liquid darkness — an ethereal void between worlds, cold and shapeless, where ti seed to lt away. I saw her in the distance, floating like a fragile flickering fla, her body trembling under the pressure of an invisible, almost tangible force squeezing her being.
There was no sound there, no echo, no whisper — only absolute silence, an absence that crushed all points of reference. It was the threshold, the thin in-between, the suspended mont between universes. And then, with sudden violence, ca the impact.
Light returned, slicing through space like a sharp blade. My body was violently thrown through icy layers of air that burned my skin on contact. Soon after, a new gravity grabbed tightly, pulling down as if I had no control.
I opened my eyes, feeling the real world — or sothing eerily close to it — slowly materialize around , shapes and colors becoming clear through the haze. We fell, together and inevitably.
The biting wind slamd against my skin with brutality, piercing down to my bones. Around , snow fell — real snow, dense and wet, muffling the sounds of the world beneath its silent blanket. The air, sharp as a knife’s edge, carried the pungent scent of pine and ice, a living blend of winter.
White branches, heavy with frost, brushed close to my body as we plumted through the tall, twisted limbs of that frozen forest, where the silence felt as deep as the snow itself.
And then I saw it: a lake. But it wasn’t like the one from the other dinsion. This one was real. Frozen to the core, ancient as ti, wrapped in a darkness so thick it seed to swallow every bit of light around it. The surface reflected nothing — it was as if the lake were a hungry abyss, sucking the very brightness out of the world.
I didn’t know exactly how I had arrived at the place where the entity slept, but I felt that sohow, it had brought back to base 17. And there, beneath the black, still surface, my eyes caught sothing: my Alter Ego. He was there, motionless, eyes glowing bright red like embers, fixed directly on .
My body plumted from above, like a stone thrown at high speed into the void. The wind cut across my face; the feeling of falling seed endless. But just before I collided with the lake’s black waters, shadows erged from every direction, wrapping in invisible, firm arms.
They held with surprising strength, slowing my fall until my feet gently touched the muddy surface of the lake, creating small circles that spread slowly outward. I didn’t care about the gri covering ; my eyes stayed locked, intense, on the entity that appeared right before , its presence dominating the scene with a threatening silence.
It landed softly soon after, floating gracefully over the water’s surface. Its feet didn’t touch the mirrored liquid, but with every slight movent, the surface rippled and distorted as if reacting to its presence. Around it, waves moved slowly, forming concentric circles that expanded even in the complete absence of wind.
(I... don’t know this place, I don’t rember) it murmured, eyes slowly scanning the surroundings. Its tone carried no surprise, only a deep, almost unsettling confusion: (It seems familiar... but at the sa ti, strange. Like I know... and yet I don’t know) it said, furrowing its brow slightly, trying to grasp a mory slipping through its fingers.
The forest around us seed to hold its breath, as if it dared not make even a whisper. I slowly stood up, chest still heavy, my breath broken by the persistent pain. The cracks that ran across my body had stopped glowing, but the deep discomfort remained.
There, in that place, my regeneration happened at an accelerated pace — almost miraculous. I could feel, within seconds, the fissures closing, as if nature itself wanted to heal . Maybe sothing in that dinsion, or space, had completely blocked my healing, preventing from fully recovering. But now, far from there, regeneration returned to its natural rhythm.
Still, none of that mattered. I didn’t care at all. All my vision could focus on was the girl in front of — her face heavy with sadness and confusion, as if she carried the weight of the world in her eyes.
(Nyara) I called, my voice strangely lancholy, almost a whisper filled with a feeling I barely understood myself.
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