This scene, I've seen it before. The grass, I've seen it in exactly the same shade of green, the intervals between the wind blowing, the blueness of the sky, the atmosphere. What am I forgetting, Remember! Remember before I forget! My memories vanish as soon as I try to grasp ahold of them. Leaving me with nothing but a feeling, an itch. But within seconds the itch disappears and I forget the fact that I was even remembering something.

The world is filthy, and it's my job to cleanse it. Evil people run the world, and those who've opposed them are rotted bodies by now. But even so, I'm going to change that. In this world, the powerful kill the weak in order to prevent them from becoming powerful. Those who choose to abstain from the acquisition of power due to valuing their lives are treated miserably, and every coin is blood money. Ever since I was young, I trained myself for the day I would enter this world of magic. At the age of sixteen, we all have a choice to unlock magic power. If you have talent, you are killed. However, we all have 2 years to train away from onlookers of this world. two years sent to a dimension full of solely people whose age counts sixteen, no one from outside the dimension can interfere.

I walk outside and take the last glimpse of this world that I will take for an entire year. The sun illuminates my surroundings and the grass is a dewy green. My house is a wooden shack sitting in the grass. It's out of place surrounded by wilderness. I've lived by myself in the forest for a while. I fled from the city where I'm from.

I hear a warping sound and know my time is now. A portal materializes in front of me, beckoning me to go in. My heart beats faster in anticipation of what I've been training for. It's been years since I arrived here. Since then, I've battled beasts, endured hunger, and become a force of nature myself. I walk in.

For a split second, there's no air to breathe in, and in the next, my lungs are filled. Out of everyone who enters this area, only a small percentage manage to make it out alive. I'm about to find out why. A voice comes out from nowhere, seemingly projecting from all directions and sounding like an excited announcer. "All of you here, pay attention! It's time to get rid of those who do not belong here. There are 100 of you in this area. I will come back in thirty minutes. If there are not fifty or fewer people here you will all die."

After hearing the news, I look at my surroundings. Clearly a forest, each tree is a reasonable distance away from one another allowing for a good amount of open space. I don't want to kill anyone senselessly or die senselessly so I hide.

One of the problems of this test is that there is no way to know if 50 people have been killed or not, so it's likely that only those who are confident in their own strength or have a group of people will keep killing until thirty minutes run out. Another factor is that I doubt whoever said that would actually have all of us killed. It wouldn't make sense to kill us all once we just got here.

I climb a tree and observe what's below me. There's a group of people chasing one person around. She's not fast enough. Eventually, she will be chased down and beaten to death. I look away. It's a cruel reality but I have to let it happen. If I let emotions control me in situations like this it will lead to my death.

I hear an arrow whiz past me and immediately turn around. A group of people with plated armor, weapons, and insignia on their chests stand below my tree, one of them prepares another arrow. I wonder how I didn't see them coming. They were sent here from a guild and trained how to survive here. It wouldn't be wise for me to fight them, but it seems that I don't have a choice. Another arrow flies near my head and barely misses.

There are five of them. One holds a sword, one a bow, one a mace another a spear, and lastly an ax. I jump down from the tree slamming into the one holding a spear and grab it from him. If he had faster reflexes I could've been impaled. I've never used a spear before and have no frame of reference around it. Even so, I grab it and exude confidence in hopes to scare them off. It doesn't work.

Another arrow misses and an ax is swung towards me. I dash to the left, dodging it, and swing my spear vertically. The blade cuts his eye and he falls to the ground in pain. Immediately I whip around to see an arrow being primed, then swing the spear at the string, severing it. The one with a sword charges at me, and without hesitation I sprint away. I look behind me, as expected they're faster. Better diet and better training.

A tree blocks my path. I stab it with the spear and jump off it onto another branch. I Lift myself with my arms and lie on the wooden branch in wait. It's too thick of a branch to break from my weight and likely too high up for them to reach it by jumping like I did. They were right behind me, and now stand below me. I'm low enough that I can hear their conversation.

"Kill him! He cut my eye! I might never see with it again for the rest of my life!" "We can't, we have to complete the test, we need to find easier targets." "I don't care! I'd rather fail the test than let someone like him go." "But, if we fail then-" The large one carrying an axe wacks the guy holding a broken bow in the head, silencing him. "If you weren't such a lousy shot, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

Hours pass, It's uncomfortable to lay on the tree this long. My spine begins to hurt. I'm sure it was supposed to be 30 minutes. I guess that was just a trick to get more people killed in the end. As far as I'm aware we might be stuck here for another week. If that's the case I'll die starving to death on this tree.

Even so, I doubt I could run or fight them. I've only fought with fists before and they all have metal armor that a fist could never break. I'll just have to wait then. I'll wait in boredom, unwavering until night falls and they let their guard down. Time passes as if I'm looking at a clock. The sun shifts slowly in the sky until eventually, it dips into the trees, giving way to night.

They begin to sleep and the one whose eye I cut stands guard. I squint and take a look at his eye. It seems relatively shallow. He will probably get a scar, but I doubt his vision will be impaired forever. I I scramble down the tree, and pull the spear out then sprint away. I hear shouts behind me but don't look back.

My lungs are heavy in the pitch-black night. When I exhale I can feel my breath chilling my face. I can barely make out objects in front of me, but regardless, my legs lunge forward, slamming the ground with each step. The shouts get closer and I start to hear the sound of crunching leaves behind me. It seems I won't outrun them.

Which means… I stop in my tracks, pivoting off my right foot and turn around to see the group of people a few feet away. In an instant my left leg swings obliquely, knocking the one with a cut on his eye to the ground. The one nearest to me has a sword. I throw the spear at his right shoulder and run towards him at the same time. He gives the sword a backhanded swing to deflect it, sticking the spear into the ground. In that split second, I punch him on his right cheek, tipping his balance. A mace swings at me but I dodge, giving him a counter hit. I can see it now. I'm going to live! I dive towards the spear and find myself rolling away from the tip of an axe. My heart feels like it's about to explode, I catch a glimpse of a dagger from the one who used to wield a bow. I aim for his chest, but he dashes back with swiftness. A slash, parry. A stab, dodge. A weakness, retaliate. The years of practice I put in were not futile. I've battled bears, lions, sharks. These people are nothing in comparison. They're barely a threat to my life compared to what I've been through.

I'm in a lunging position, My blade prepped to deliver the final blow. Even though it's happening in milliseconds, we both know what's about to happen. Thousands of hours of training gives us both slowed time. I see the fear in his eye, but the other remains shut.

My gaze shifts from the scar on his eye to his neck. I lunge towards him, stretching my spear so that it hits his neck. My arm stops in its tracks and starts shaking. Why did I stop!? Why can't I finish what I've started?

I can't believe killing my first person is so hard. I know that to survive in this world I'll have to kill many but even so, he's just as human as me. His life doesn't matter any less than mine does. If I drive my spear through his throat he will experience unimaginable pain, choking on his own blood. Everyone he knew will be sad of his death, and his parents will have to feel the grief of their child dying before them. His comrades will hate me for dealing the final blow and hate will eat away at them until they become horrid people who lack empathy. Worst of all If I kill him. This will be the end for him. He won't get to say goodbye, he won't be able to achieve whatever dreams he aspired to achieve, he will just become nothingness. No will, purpose, or existence. Do I really have the right to take someone's existence away? Is it not wrong for me to decide if someone I don't know lives or dies?

I begin to lower my spear. Maybe there's another way to resolve- Cold metal sinks into my gut, and blood comes rushing up my throat. I fall to the ground and grimace. I feel the hole where part of my stomach should be and retch. I was thinking too much, I need to get up quickly! I scramble to my feet only to feel a sword slashing into my back. The blade soaks my blue shirt a reddish black.

I can't focus, the pain is too great. I lie on my side and look up. "Before we kill him, he needs to experience the same pain we felt. The same pain they felt? I look at their bodies, minor cuts and bruises that will only scar. I might never recover from my wounds. I just have to hope that my gut can recover somehow. The sword comes down, and instinctively I shut my eyes.

The blade tears at my flesh, but not at a lethal location. More follow, and each slash sends waves of pain twice as painful as stubbing your toe. The pain doesn't leave quickly.

I look up to see the blade coming down again, My body tenses and I grit my teeth bracing for the pain. "That one's for Jeremiah! Another slash, For Tien! For vengeance! For Justice! Another word, Another fresh wave of pain! It's driving me insane, they give me a cut for each one I've inflicted on each of them. Four people's worth of scars,

"Stop it! If you're gonna kill me, end me already! They look down at me with resentment. As if I'm some kind of wretched villain who's beneath them. "Finally, for Yaro. A scar on the eye." The one with the scar adds, "And make sure it's Just as deep. My thoughts are still too jumbled to retaliate. I need more time! I stare at the blade, knowing it's the last thing I'll ever see with this eye.

Even despite this, I'm not afraid. They don't give off that life-threatening aura. After they cut out my eye, they'll strike the finishing blow. They'll never expect that with my wounds, I'll live. My fist balls, and my teeth grind as I stare defiantly at the blade. It comes down and I slam my eyes closed, bracing for the pain. It stings, It burns, IT'S TORN. "Ah, AHH, AHHHHHHHH!" My arm covers my right eye, protecting it from exposure to the elements. I can't describe it but my thoughts are shaky, almost like my mind is unstable.

They cut it open, They severed my eye! THEY CUT MY PUPIL! My entire body itches, no it beckons me to move. This must be my sixth sense detecting a fatal blow and urging me to move in spite of the pain. I push the ground with all my force causing me to dash backward. I glare defiantly at the one whose blade sliced open my eye.

His head… It's gone. My head whips around desperately and all I see is three people trembling and gripping onto their weapons like it's their lifelines. But one person is smiling. A bone-chilling smile. Almost as if it would please her to see… All of us dead. She wasn't here before, where did she come from? She holds a pickaxe over her shoulder. It's three people vs one. Every time they swing their sword, no matter how refined in form and technique it is, the blade only meets air. Yet with each swing of the pickaxe, one of them dies. She dodges their attacks with a natural flow and counters with a pickaxe touching their necks.

I turn away from the bloodshed and hold myself back from retching. I wince with pain and stand up. My shirt soaks with blood with each step. I bite my tongue until I taste salt in order to bear the pain.

Limping with one hand on my side, I pointlessly try to keep my blood inside of me. I've heard three screams behind me already which means those three are dead. Dang it, I need to get away!

I hobble away with all the strength I can muster. I really am going to die if I'm caught. The aura of fear that guild the members lacked was definitely present in her gaze. It clearly said You won't be the last, or the first that I kill.

I feel steel wrap around my neck and stop in my tracks. "Give me one reason I should spare you." I'm going to die. If I don't say something I'll die! If I say the wrong thing, I'll die! If I make one wrong move, I'll die!

My mind races through my past experiences, how can I survive? How can I win? I've fought bears, wolves, massive cats. How did I survive? How did I win? The presence she gives off is twice as threatening as those beastly creatures whose bodies boasted massive muscles. For once in my life, it looks like I can't win.

My insides are churning, not only physically, but I can also feel my soul changing. I suppose this is what happens when you get this close to death.

Your body casts out who you once were and bets on a new personality. Normally I would get on my knees and beg for life, I would at least make an effort. But what I'm about to say isn't me. It's not a natural response and yet I feel the words escaping me.

My words come from only emotion. The feeling of anger I have from all of this. Training for years, and still becoming injured on the first day. Sparing someone's life and getting a sword in my back as a reward. And now a pickaxe to my neck that will be my end.

Adrenaline slows time for me and yet I can't stop a single word from coming out. I say these words with both tears in my eyes and the grim face of one who's accepted death. "I can't give you a single reason why you should spare me. Just as I can not give you one to kill me. If you were to spare me, we'll likely go our own ways and I'll either die or make a great effort to avoid meeting you again."

I tilt up my neck and turn around, staring into her eye with my own. Imminent death dulls some of the pain for me, but still, it's hardly bearable.

"It's embarrassing to die to a pickaxe when I've just fought so many people wielding blades. If you're going to end me, make it quick."

We stand like this for at least 5 seconds. These 5 seconds feel like 30, and at last, she puts the pickaxe down. The way she holds it and uses it reminds me of a scythe. She bursts out laughing and I cringe. This has to be the second least funny situation I've ever been in, yet she laughs. It's sick and frightening.

"Out of all the people I've given a chance to talk before killing. You're the first one who's accepted death. It also happens to be that you are the most pathetic. I saw you fight them, and the way you hesitated to kill was repulsing. They definitely returned your kindness, in fact, you lost an eye as a gift." The sarcasm stings, but not as much as my eye right now.

"I won't kill you because you simply aren't worth my time. You don't belong here if you aren't willing to kill anyone." She walks away and I collapse, my back against a tree.

I was sure I'd do fine here. The fact that I could survive in the wild by myself, and hold out against the massive creatures in the wild assured me that I would thrive here.

But who was she? Are there other people whose skill and combative ability defy all logic? Those four died in about ten seconds. Not to mention it was all done with a pickaxe. I had a steel spear, and yet I was barely defeating them.

It looks like I'm not strong enough to be one of the survivors of this "test". On the first day, I've already received a wound that might be fatal, lost my eye, and earned a scar stretching across my back. I've heard it only gets harder the longer you survive and yet I have to survive two years.

Wet tears overlap my dry ones. When did I become such a crybaby? I used to never cry, even when I almost died countless times I never shed a tear. Maybe it's because I'm realizing the intense training I've put myself through wasn't enough. The fact that I'm going to die here after trying so hard to prepare myself! Where did I go wrong? When I ran away from home? When I climbed down from that tree? Or maybe… When I hesitated.

All three of these wounds resulted from my hesitation to kill. I've killed many animals but never another human. Perhaps If I had just killed them I would've been fine. Maybe she would've just walked away satisfied with the result of the fight, and I would've never met her.

A new pang of pain rushes through me and I wince. If only I could redo this I wouldn't make the same mistakes. It's morning now, but I'm drifting asleep. Even though I'm falling asleep I'm a bit afraid. I'm afraid that once my eye shuts, it won't open again.