It hurts-
"agh, agh, kug-kuug." Words escape me, replaced by guttural sounds of agony. What is this chilling sensation? Summoning every ounce of strength, I manage to open my eyes, only to be met with a sea of red. O', I'm dying. Memories begin to surface—I was struck by a speeding car, and it didn't even stop.
"Cough, cough…"
Uncontrollable coughs escape my body. O', death is creeping in, slow but certain. I can vaguely sense people around me, but they are fading, just like the light in my vision. How tragic—I wished to at least leave Words goodbye to my little siblings. Darkness encroaches, the cold intensifies, yet within the icy grip of my blood I find a strange warmth of life .
And so, the beginning of the end has begun.
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In a land far away, a luxurious wagon adorned with gold moved at a steady pace toward an ancient forest. The knights surrounding it exuded an air of grace, barely masking the dangerous aura beneath. These elite guards were tasked with escorting a high-ranking member of the church, their solemn duty reflected in their serious demeanor.
Yet, atop the wagon lay a figure in his late twenties, taking a nap. Unlike the armored knights, he wore a black kimono that matched his dark hair. A katana rested at his waist. To be so relaxed on such a perilous journey, one must either be a fool unaware of the dangers or someone so powerful that the threat ahead couldn't faze him.
Suddenly, a shout erupted, "Mirai, can't you for once take things seriously!?" The source of the outburst was a young recruit named Alex, whose strength was undeniable, though his lack of experience was evident in his inability to control his emotions.
"Damn it, Alex, can't you let me rest in peace? I'm more than confident you guys won't need my help unless..." A sly smile formed on Mirai's face as he continued, "You're all so tense because you're afraid of what might happen next and you actually acknowledge that I'm the only one who could face it?"
Veins popped on Alex's forehead, but deep down, he knew Mirai was right. They had just arrived at an ancient forest, once the homeland of the extinct fairies. This place, the last remnant of their legacy, was a well-kept secret, even from the remaining fairies in the Holy Empire. Alex, the duke's son, had only discovered its existence upon being recruited for this mission. Looking into Mirai's abyssal eyes, Alex instinctively averted his gaze. Everyone knew Mirai was no ordinary human but a monster, a legendary being from the East known as the Black Death. If such a person was on this mission, how dreadful could their journey be?
Alex refused to die, knowing someone waited for him at home. Suddenly, the forest fell eerily silent, as if time had stopped. No sound, no movement—it was as if Mother Earth herself was watching them. The knights quickly assumed their positions, raising their weapons and shields, ready to face any threat.
Out of nowhere, laughter erupted. "Hahaha, interesting, very interesting indeed! Alex, I'm thankful you woke me up to witness this sight with my own eyes. Hahaha."
As if the previous scene were an illusion, Mirai looked coldly at them and said, "Don't die." Then, he disappeared like a mirage.
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[O, I am falling. ] I feel neither motion nor pressure. It's slow, but the deeper I fall, the darker and colder it becomes. Am I descending to hell? Suddenly, I felt it—no, I am drowning. Could it be that I have reached the bottom? I must hurry and swim upwards! Who am I kidding? Was I not supposed to be dead after being struck by that car? What is the point of wasting my time?
After giving up, I lost my sense of reality. I know not how long I have been down here, but, strangely enough, I did not suffocate to death. In this state, I made some discoveries. There was a noticeable change in the clothes I wore, which now seemed like a robe. Curiously, it did not get wet, and this was due to the crown above my head, which I deduced to be the reason I still live.
In my solitude, I found company in my own thoughts. For what reason should I reach for the light above, so close yet so far? What if I do not make it out? What if I raise my hopes only to fail miserably? This situation is absurd to begin with, so why bother?
"When you have nothing to lose, you are the most prone to change. When nothing holds meaning, so does the result. Change is something you simply seek"
"Hahaha, how foolish I was... how sinful I was... how dared I flee into oblivion! NO... I shall not... not again…"
I don't care. I will keep trying, over and over again. It doesn't matter if it takes an eternity to achieve what I want; I will do it until I succeed. And so, I began to move forward, summoning all the courage I had. I started swimming, coming closer to the top. It felt like a dream come true. But, like all dreams, it came to an end. As I lost all the power in my muscles, I started falling back to the beginning. But I don't care. I will start again, and again, and again, and again…
For how long have I persisted in this pursuit? I don't care, for time is but a fleeting concern compared to my will to achieve my goal .
After an arduous process of dissecting the cause and effect of my failures, I began to discern faint signs of progress. Yet, just as I neared the grasp of success, I fall once more. It dawned upon me then that this was a relentless struggle of determination between myself and this realm. The strides I had made this far seemed designed only to shatter my spirit anew whenever I heightened my expectations.
Throughout this perpetual descent, I had always cast my gaze above . But this time, I chose to look down, seeking what held me down in this perpetual fall. There, I saw it—the thorns entwining around my body , their presence so diminutive that I had previously overlooked them. I sensed a subdued intelligence within their grasp, their existence tinged with a profound sense of misery .
Yet, I harboured no sentiment towards these beings—neither disdain nor compassion. I regarded them with indifference, acknowledging me perhaps as a companion during my prolonged stay below . Yet, my resolve remained unwavering. At that moment, the crown adorning my head began to radiate with an ethereal glow.
"O nature, abide to my will ," I ordered
The thorns abide , freezing in place, their movements now dictated by the trajectory of my thoughts. Encircling my figure, they lifted me above as I pressed onward in my unyielding ascent.
When I reached the surface of the lake I couldn't help but to look around and I saw a green hall embedded with the essence of nature on the top of the stairs lies a throne made of vine its foundation lies a sturdy base of black marble , arranged in a circular formation that mirrors the natural contours of the forest floor. Moss and wildflowers cling to its weathered surface
With steady steps, I approached the throne, my heart pounding calmly. Standing before it, I lowered myself slowly onto its seat, gazing out at dawn
I finally achieved what I seeked