It hurts...
It freaking hurts...
Excruciating pain ravaged every fiber of my being, while the dimly lit room cast long shadows across the worn-out walls.
The flickering light from a solitary, flickering bulb created an eerie atmosphere, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.
I could feel it intensify with every passing moment, consuming me from within.
The room, once a place of solace, now felt like a claustrophobic prison, suffocating me with its oppressive aura.
It freaking hurt, like a thousand needles piercing my flesh, tormenting me relentlessly.
Each jolt of pain left its mark, visible as beads of sweat forming on my brow, mingling with the streaks of blood that painted my face.
The desire to unleash a primal scream built up inside me, threatening to burst forth.
Yet, it remained trapped, suffocating in the depths of my throat.
My lips quivered, my mouth agape, but the sound refused to escape, held captive by the agony that gripped me.
I clenched my teeth, grinding them together, as if biting down on the pain, hoping to diminish its power.
Lying on the frigid floor, I felt its icy touch seep into my bones, mingling with the warmth of my own blood.
The cold tiles beneath me added a cruel layer to my suffering, amplifying the discomfort that emanated from my wounds.
I wished desperately that this was all just a terrible dream, a fleeting nightmare from which I would soon awaken, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest.
The room, with its peeling wallpaper and creaking floorboards, seemed surreal, like a twisted stage set for a tragic play.
But reality offered no solace. It gripped me tightly, refusing to let go, denying me any respite from the torment that held me captive.
The air felt thick with tension, as if the room itself were a living entity, relishing in my suffering.
Before me stood a deranged figure, an embodiment of madness, wielding a sword with a malevolent gleam.
His disheveled appearance mirrored the chaos that lurked within him.
Tattered clothes clung to his wiry frame, accentuating his haggard appearance.
His eyes, once filled with familiarity and concern, now bore an unsettling emptiness, like dark voids that swallowed any remnants of humanity.
"Asher Leblanc. How did you come to this? What has led you down this path?" His voice carried a weight of sorrow, a haunting mix of regret and disbelief.
The desperation in his eyes betrayed a shred of remorse, but it was overshadowed by the cold steel in his hand.
At first glance, his words might have seemed laced with genuine concern, a glimmer of hope in the abyss.
But the reality lay bare before me, painted in shades of crimson.
His sword, once gleaming, now stained with the lifeblood that flowed from my wounds.
"Can't you even find the strength to answer me?" he asked again, his voice tinged with frustration, the thin veil of false sympathy fading away.
The lines on his forehead deepened as his impatience grew, and the intensity in his eyes burned brighter, fueled by a mix of anger and obsession.
This fool, this pitiful excuse for a human, dared to question me after inflicting such unimaginable pain.
How could he expect me to respond?
How could he expect me to speak when every breath I took was a struggle against the overwhelming agony that consumed me?
Nevermind. Thinking about him is injurious for my mental health.
"Didn't you promise to help me destroy this world?" he asked, his eyes locked onto mine, piercing and devoid of empathy.
As expected, he was a psychopath—a genuine embodiment of darkness. However, he was far more dangerous than anyone I had encountered before.
His twisted smile widened as he observed my silent defiance. "Ah, the silent resistance," he mused, his voice dripping with derision. "How fitting, Aurora. Your silence speaks volumes."
Sigh, this dumbass can't even think.
I closed my eyes, feigning unconsciousness, hoping it would be enough to make him stop his incessant ramblings.
The silence brought a temporary respite, and I welcomed the brief moment of peace.
After a few moments, his voice broke through the silence once again.
"Hey, Asher. Are you listening to me? So I was saying..."
This incessant barking of his never seemed to cease.
It grated on my nerves, reminding me of the danger that lurked before me.
'Oi, System. Can you please end this? It's becoming too annoying.'
The response came swiftly from the system, its words echoing in my mind.
[Can't do, Host. I can't reset everything until you die.]
I couldn't help but scoff at its cold response. 'So cruel. As expected of the stingy system,' I responded sarcastically.
Curiosity nagged at me, and I found myself questioning the remaining time I had left. 'How much time do I have until I die?'
[Around 10 seconds.]
You are so inconsiderate. You shouldn't deliver news about someone's death with such an indifferent attitude.
With resignation, I accepted the grim reality.
Whatever, it's not like it's my first time dying.
Seeking a glimmer of hope, I inquired about my accumulated points. 'System, how many points do I have now?'
[5,35,487.]
Hearing this, waves of disappointment washed over me. 'I can't return with this many points, can I?'
[You can't return with that many points, host. You need 1 million points to return or escape from the plot.]
'Can't you give me a discount? Pretty please?
[Can't do so.]
Tch. Stingy system.
[Host, I'm starting the process of reset.]
A mix of resignation and determination settled within me.
Yeah, it's time to start everything again.
These were my last thoughts before I succumbed to death for the fourth time.