It was as if a spell had been cast on the entire arena.
All eyes were fixed on the figure on the screen, his face completely mangled, marred by deep cuts and missing key features like his nose and ears.
He looked like a monster.
A terrifying monster that made one unable to sleep at night.
And yet, despite his current state, the figure remained completely calm as his voice traveled across the surroundings.
—...You... get ready. Sacrifice... what you must. Keep conscious.
—H-huh...? W-what do you an...?
—I an... what I an.
He was supposed to be the epito of luck.
A person who had appeared in the right place at the right ti.
Soone who was never ant to be a Paragon.
But—
—Spurt...!
It beca increasingly clear as the videos continued that this was the furthest thing from the truth. As the video progressed, people witnessed his madness. The video continued to flash, grueso scenes appearing for all to see.
Drake and Esteban were also subjected to such things.
But they weren’t as extre as him.
He... took things to an extre level, and as the situation progressed, so couldn’t help but turn his way. He stood in silence, his dark eyes fixed on the distant monitor.
There was no trace of emotion.
In fact, it was even hard to read his expression.
He just stared at what was happening as though this was the first ti for him, seemingly completely oblivious to the nurous gazes directed his way.
—Day... 143. I think I get... it. I think I have gotten a grasp on... what I need to do. This place... it.. it’s... What was I talking about? W-what am I doing? I’m thirsty.
—165. Thirsty. Hungry. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Sleepy. Thirsty. Hungry. Sleepy. Pain. Hate it. I...
—I... I’m going crazy. It’s hard to fight the urges. The... more I sacrifice, the crazier I beco... I don’t recall the last ti I felt normal. How... long can I keep my sanity for? How long... can I keep my identity for?
As his hoarse voice whispered throughout the stadium, the air seed to change.
The audience hadn’t been clear because everything had been going fast, but with his voice echoing in the air, the faces of many changed.
"Wait, w-what did he say?"
"One hundred days...?"
"Surely not, right?"
"He must’ve gone mad and lost track of ti. Surely he... didn’t do this for so long."
"But didn’t that previous group say they’ve been there for a decade?"
The silence that followed felt even more suffocating as they watched Seth slowly rise to his feet. Even that simple movent seed painfully difficult, his body staggering, yet as if driven by sothing unseen, he forced himself onward, dragging his steps toward the castle corridor.
"No, what is he doing...?"
"W-why is he leaving?"
By now, the audience had been so absorbed by what they were seeing that they had completely forgotten about the fact that Seth was now doing fine.
Staring at the monitor, many clenched their hands.
Especially when—
Thump!
Seth stumbled forward, his body barely keeping up with him.
"Ah!"
"...No!"
—How pitiful.
Things grew even more tense when a certain voice whispered.
—You look really pitiful at the mont. Is it really worth it? Torturing yourself to this point? For what reason?
Although calm, sothing about the voice made the hearts of many shiver.
It wasn’t their first ti hearing it, but each ti it sounded, it was as if sothing within their hearts tickled, prompting them to want to listen to the voice.
This made many question themselves...
If this was what they felt through a recording, just how terrifying was it in real life?
—You could’ve chosen the easy way out. You could’ve eaten all the food you wanted, drunk all the water you desired, and slept in the finest beds you’ll ever lie on. Instead, you struggled for hundreds of days... for what? What exactly did you struggle for?
The voice continued to echo throughout the arena, bringing a certain silence as everyone just looked.
Although no one said a thing, they all wanted to know the sa thing.
Why?
Why was he still struggling?
—But in the end... You were just struggling out of stubbornness.
Yes, it was stubbornness.
It had to be that.
Otherwise, why would he persist?
—You struggled not because you didn’t want to die or anything like that. The reason you refused to die was simply that you’re stubborn. That’s all. You’re nothing special. You’re just... like everyone else. A more pitiful version of them.
Everyone seed to subconsciously nod.
Was it because of the voice, or was it because they also shared the sa sentint?
Nobody knew. Not even the audience.
Why would anyone put themselves through all of this torture if it wasn’t stubbornness? Many of them would have long given up.
There was no need for him to do this.
There was simply no—
—Ha... ha.
A short, yet hoarse laugh shattered the thoughts of many as eyes started to widen.
This hadn’t been the first ti he had laughed.
But listening to his current laugh, sothing felt different as he slowly raised his head to look at the figure no one could see.
—I... want to...
When his voice ca out, as broken as it was, everyone paid attention.
The only thing that one could hear was his voice as many strained their ears to listen.
You want...? Want wha—
—...Make you bow.
"...."
"...."
The air appeared to shift in that mont.
All of a sudden, it felt incredibly suffocating. As though soone had stripped all oxygen from the air.
Many found themselves struggling to breathe.
And yet, none looked away.
They all stared at the screen.
—I want to know... how it feels...
At what was unfolding before their very eyes.
—...to step on a King.
The madness.
—Ha... ha...
And as his laugh escaped once more, shivers began to run down the bodies of all those present. This didn’t just include the audience, but the Paragons and competitors that stood at the bottom of the stage as they all turned their attention towards the figure responsible for all of this.
With a calm look, he accepted the stares.
He accepted everything while his laugh grew more and more unrestrained inside the footage.
—Hahaha... Ha!
The more he laughed, the greater the shivers everyone felt.
Such shivers only grew with ti as his voice eventually reached their ears once more.
—H-haha. With my eye clear, I can see... through the illusions. I can see through the fakery of this place. B-but despite that, I can’t see you.
Nobody could see him.
In that mont, the minds of a few rattled as they suddenly thought of sothing.
This was especially clear for so of the sharper-minded Paragons, who had a sudden understanding.
—Your na. I... know your na.
A hysterical laugh reverberated once more.
However, nobody dared to say anything, as though nobody could see the face of the figure standing in front of Seth; they could see the subtle shift in his expression.
Did he figure sothing out?
What did he figure out...?
"Ah!"
Suddenly, one of the audience mbers shouted.
"That’s...! The key to getting out of this place is likely finding out the identity of the person standing in front of him!"
"c—!"
The eyes of many widened.
"Right! How could I not have thought about it!?"
"Since he takes identities, what happens if you give him his identity back?!2
"That’s...!"
Things unfolded just as the others predicted.
Seth opened his mouth while trying to shout the na of the person standing before him.
However...
Each ti he tried, he’d be blocked.
—Know your place.
The place rattled.
—Rattle! Rattle!
Things grew progressively more unrestrained as Seth tried his best to say his na, with many of the audience mbers on the edge of their seats.
Say it! Say it!
And yet, despite all of this, Seth was never able to say his na.
He seed to get closer and closer to it, and just as he was about to say his na, his entire body was thrown back.
That also appeared to be the mont when Seth seed to have lost sight of the situation.
"Akh!"
"No...!"
Screams followed.
The audience was fully invested.
"Shit!"
"How the hell can he beat that thing? It’s impossible! It’s...!"
The sound of a step filled the place.
Once more, the noise ceased.
Drake and Esteban’s figures appeared. Both didn’t look great, and the way they looked at Seth was complicated, containing both fear and apprehension.
—D-do it.
And yet, the mont he spoke, they obeyed.
The angle shifted.
It shifted to Esteban’s cara as he stabbed down at his leg, blood spurting in all directions.
——!
Realization dawned on the audience.
He...!
—RATTLE! RATTLE!
The place rattled even more fiercely as the voice grew more alard.
—Stop it!
But Esteban and Drake didn’t stop.
—You do not understand what you are doing. Stop this at once!
The panic in the voice was clear.
It bood across the entire arena. And yet, they didn’t stop.
No, Esteban did at so point as he looked at Seth.
That was also the very mont everyone saw it.
The twisted and maddening smile that lingered upon his lips as he stared at the figure ahead.
His eyes were bloodshot, and yet they were wide open.
Then—!
—Spurt!
Drake’s knife ca cleaving down his neck, severing his head.
Nobody scread.
Nobody made a sound.
No...
Nobody could make a sound as they stared at Drake’s figure on the screen as he grabbed Seth’s severed head, blood dripping down onto the ground.
The noise was completely stripped from the stadium.
Be in the recording, or across the entire place.
There was no sound.
In that mont, it was as if the hearts of all those present had synced.
Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!
They watched as Drake’s figure slowly moved towards the blank figure standing in front of him before eventually taking a knee and presenting the head towards him.
Besides the soft dripping of the blood coming from Seth’s head, there was no other sound.
And yet—
It was almost as if they could hear the words inside his mind.
I... offer you my everything.
My eyes. My arms. My legs. My heart. My body.
And finally—
My head.
To you, who is King Paimon.
That day, everyone got to witness it.
The true twisted nature that hid within Seth.
The madness.
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