Impossible. All my life that word has haunted me. When I asked my asshole of a dad if Mom would ever come back, that was what he said.
"Impossible."
In high school, I asked if I could ever be a doctor.
"Impossible, you are too stupid."
A date with a cheerleader. A job at Google or Facebook. Getting a raise. Buying a house. Telling the landlord if I could pay the rent a single day later. Staying for a week at my mom's. Begging my lover to stay with me instead of marrying my best friend. The answer was always the same.
"Impossible."
The word used when one no longer wished to try. Men never had wings; thus, flying should have been impossible. Still, the Wright brothers proved them wrong. They said we could never leave the Earth, then Neil Armstrong planted the first flag on the Moon.
Impossible. Would I truly let it all end simply because of this fucking word?
Hell no. I remembered the vow I had made before I died.
'A second life, huh? Regrets. Hmm. If I did get the chance to live again, I would live differently. I am done following the rules of others. I would live for myself and go beyond my limits!'
Isabella, oblivious to my inner monologue, continued. "It will take too much time to explain, so I'll give you a summary. Hellsgate is like an inverted boss dungeon. You know those dungeon towers in anime and manga? It's kind of like that, but we're at the top and diving down. The corpses we see here are the weakest of the weak. The deeper you go, the stronger they get."
Hmm. I had to pay attention for now. It sounded like Isabella had a childish side to her, too. So, we were on the top floor, but why did the reapers even need to go deeper into Hell in the first place? What was Hellsgate for?
Fixing her glasses, like a teacher in lecture mode, Isabella continued to explain. Her voice returned to a more vibrant tone as she did so.
"Past a certain point, the zombies can no longer be killed even if you tear them apart. You need a {Fate} that cleanses the undead. These are known as holy blessings, and guns cannot be blessed. Without a blessed weapon, going deeper is impossible."
I interrupted her to ask, "Why do reapers need to dive deeper?"
Isabella looked dumbfounded at my question and took a moment to compose herself. Fixing her hair, she began to fill me in once more.
"You really don't know anything, do you? Why did you even become a Reaper? Listen, John. I'm not sure what your reason is, or why you even accepted the offer to begin with. But the main benefit of being a Reaper is coming back to life," she elaborated.
Why? Weren't we already alive right now? How much more alive were we supposed to be? Somehow grasping my thoughts, Isabella made an annoyed expression.
"You are not thinking something stupid like 'aren't we already alive now,' are you?" she asked.
Was my face that obvious? I cleared my throat and gestured for her to continue.
"Look, honey, becoming a reaper isn't all sunshine and rainbows. You have the chance to live for a brief period at a cost. While we do get to return to Earth every day, we are also forced to return here every night to fight. Until Hellsgate remains open, Reapers will never be free," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow.
Somehow, I already knew that would be the case. If going back to life was normal, no one would have remained dead to begin with. Roland's words echoed in my mind once more.
"Boy, you know about Norse Valkyries, right? The ones who bring souls to Valhalla and all that. I am the same. But I will send you to the gates of Hell. So, instead of dying pathetically on the ground, join our version of Ragnarök. You will fight demons until the end of the world. Exciting, right? You interested?"
"Think of it this way. The Reapers only have one goal: closing Hellsgate. Hellsgate is still open. So, every reaper since time began has either died or is still out there fighting. If this were a game, it would mean no one has ever cleared this game. Not even once," Isabella theorized.
Fighting till the end of the world… You've got to have superpowers and return to Earth. But each night you dove into hell and fought till the day you couldn't any longer. This sounded like a deal only the truly desperate would want. For those who had something they left behind, I could understand the appeal. But what about me?
Saying that I was destined to die here because {Rewind} was trash was kind of harsh. I had only just begun, and she was telling me not to even try because it was impossible.
Yeah, fuck that.
"Aren't you the same, then? I saw you were using a steel dagger. Do you turn into a bear or something, then?" I asked with curiosity.
Isabella's cheeks turned red, as if she felt embarrassed. She made several attempts to speak. As she didn't say a word, I guessed I hit the nail on the head. This bitch was in the same boat as me. With an even stupider {Fate} than the one I had, I might've added.
'What did she even wish for to get {Code}?'
"Fine, you caught me. I died a month ago, so I researched a lot during that time. But you can only truly know what your {Fate} is the moment you kill in Hellsgate. My {Fate} is also formless," she said, sounding frustrated.
"Formless?" I repeated.
With gritted teeth and clenched fists, Isabella practically spat out every word.
"{Fates} are basically manifestations of desire, right? I read in an IRIS report that mutated {Fates} also appear. There are two mutations recorded: Sovereign and the Formless. Both are {Fates} that do not manifest as weaponry or transformations. Still, the difference is like night and day."
'Sovereign, so the other type is for kings or something? And Isabella and I belong to the Formless. There should be more to this than meets the eye.'
I kept my ears open as the woman continued her lecture.
"Sovereign ranked {Fates} are those that manifest as personae. Think of how an actor brings a character to life. Their {Fates} manifest a character. This persona not only has its own will but is also extremely powerful! Currently, the Revenants of all seven battlefronts are all Sovereigns."
Her entire demeanor turned ecstatic as she spoke of the Sovereigns. Her shining eyes meant she worshipped them like heroes or something. I did hear of another new word that grabbed my interest more than the Sovereigns, though.
"Revenants? What are those?" I asked.
Nodding, Isabella explained everything in a single breath.
"Right. The reapers have ranks; each rank is several times more powerful than the last. The order goes Wraith -> Phantom -> Specter -> Revenant. In Hellsgate's history, only seven Revenants have existed. They are the commanders and kings of the seven battlefronts. Ah! Each continent is considered a battlefront."
So, these Revenants were the kings of this land. Did that mean there were reapers in Antarctica? That was a continent, right? I had to remember that for now. Interesting, but there was still something I wanted to learn more about.
"Then what about the Formless?" I reminded her.
Like a balloon, Isabella deflated at my question. Her energy vanished.
"Every so often, some reapers are defective and cannot get their {Fate} to manifest. They awaken and can gain souls like any reaper, but their abilities are vague and follow no reason or rhyme. Nothing much is known about the Formless, except that they are weak and useless."
Hearing such a bad description of the group to which both of us belong, I tried to learn more.
"Oh, come on, it shouldn't be that bad, right? Maybe they just don't have enough data or something."
Isabella then closed in on me as she spoke in anger. Her agitation was evident in her entire body. Why was she so emotional?
"There is no record of any Formless even becoming a Phantom! That's how weak we are! Just give up! Don't you think I want the opposite to be true?! How are we going to survive in this place?! This is all pointless! I should never have agreed to join the reapers! It is all hopeless!" she shouted at the top of her voice.
She then began punching my breastplate as she cried pitifully. Her whimpers were so soft that I almost missed them.
"I hoped… I prayed. When I unlocked {Code} I wished it to be a mistake. I ran after a group of zombies to prove that I wasn't defective. That Formless could become powerful too, yet I almost died. How am I supposed to survive then? How can I go back? Do I have to die a second time just for those bastards to be satisfied?"
Isabella's weeping face dampened my mood a bit. A beautiful woman in tears was always a sad sight.
Right, no one would come here to fight without a compelling reason. She must have had one to be desperate to be here. Unfortunately, all I could muster was a simple promise.
"I will do it."
"What?" she asked with tears in her eyes.
"I will prove that Formless are not useless. I will become a Revenant and close Hellsgate," I vowed.