[Warning: Mentions of Suicide & Violence. Read at your own risk]
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All she could see was ebony - that same darkness which once imprisoned her whole.
It seemed to stare back almost mockingly, a constant reminder of the inescapable nightmare she was now trapped in.
There was a stench of rot and decay that glued heavily to the air, a sickeningly sweet, coppery smell like a cloud of death. After her head was bashed hours ago, there was dried blood sticking like tears to her face - its color akin to the most potent wine.
A delicious, numbing red.
Her soul wandered, memories with Denzelle gleaming weakly in the recesses of Argider's mind like a distant, fragile spark, barely smoldering in the back of her head as hope slipped away like sands between fingertips.
All those thoughts made Argider's face rigid with anguish and fury, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought back a sob.
As she turned her head, a jagged arrow of pain shot through her temples like sizzling needles. Her muscles, long since cramped from being shackled, felt as though they'd forgotten how to function properly. She had been awake in this cold, dank cell for hours, each attempt to move resulting in her ankles and wrists being further chafed by the harsh metal of her chains, the unforgiving pressure cutting into her skin.
There was no doubt in her mind where she was: an underground dungeon. The rough, cold stones of the walls was slick with moisture, and the hard, rocky floor left no comfort. The constant drip-drip-drip of water echoed through the cramped chambers, the only indication of the passage of time in the windowless cell.
She felt lost that she finally broke down.
"I want to die."
Despite the iron manacles that bounded her, she had enough freedom of movement to pull herself into a seated position and seized the chains with her hands, her fingers clenching forcefully into the freezing, biting metal. Clawing at the bindings, she ripped open her skin, causing drops of crimson to well up and spill over.
"Please...just let me die...let me die..." She begged with an aching plea.
All around her, other prisoners were slumped in hopeless, motionless heaps in the other cells, their soft, pathetic whimpers filling the space and ringing off the stone walls. The pitiful sounds only magnified the voices inside her own mind, and she crashed her hands against the red-covered irons that held her feet.
It stung, but it paled in comparison to the melancholy that consumed her. She wanted to suffer even more.
"Redemption System? Hah! This is probably a joke... It's too late for a redemption... This is probably a punishment, huh? If someone was as scummy as I can be, I'd wish them to live longer to endure pain. If others discovered I've become a woman, they would laugh in my face!" Her head drooped, her eyes rimmed red from tears, and her hands gripped her hair tight.
She did not want to die, but it felt like the only option. Her eyes darted around, searching for something—a way out—but there was nothing, nothing sharp.
Then, a realization dawned upon her. "Redemption System, show me the details of my Empath Inundation Skill."
A translucent, holographic projection hovered suddenly just above her palm. Its text glowed with a soft, iridescent hue, each word etched digitally. She read and read until her gazed stopped and saw: "..... Leaves them vulnerable to mental torment, causing them to slip to unconsiousness or death."
She glanced down at the holo screen once more, reading: "...If user has lower levels of the Neuroticism Traits, one may begin experiencing deterioration. Using this skill may take a toll on your own emotions."
There it was, the solution she wanted.
And it was to use this skill on herself.
There was no rule that the user couldn't inflict it on themselves, afterall.
Her current mental state was far too delicate to withstand the strain. And given that her skill level and stats were abysmal, the consequences would not only be dire, but also leave her entirely shattered. Just as she wanted.
"How do I cast this skill?" she asked one more time.
— [To use the Empath Inundation Skill, user would need to focus their energy and concentrate on the target individual, visualizing the connection between their emotional state and her own. Once the connection was established, she would use her mental energy to amplify the target's emotions to the point of their demise or pain, all the while dealing with the toll it would take on her own emotions as well.]
"Ah, I see," she chuckled weakly. Her gaze was dim. She was already parched from the prolonged confinement in the cell. Her trembling hands wrapped around her throat, feeling the sensation of pressure as she gripped tighter. She could feel the power taking hold, and she focused intently.
Like an explosion, breathing came more difficult as it set in. The skill was working, its effects growing more pronounced. As her despair was mounting, her eyes rolled back in a chilling display. Her mouth hung open, gasping for air in a bodily natural effort to defy the stranglehold of her own actions.
There was a suffocating coldness now.
Her thoughts and sadness ran rampant and her mind felt like it was being torn asunder. The relentless onslaught of despair caused a sharp pain to shoot through her head, sending her reeling in anguish. Her sanity was at risk of unraveling under the strain.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice warned.
Suddenly, the skill shattered, and she retched, planting her hands against the floor. The intensity of the moment made her feel unhinged. Her emotions were heightened to the max, leaving her in a chaotic state.
Vomit littered the ground, a visceral and sickening sight. She was on the verge of retching again, the nausea welling up inside her.
"Who was that?" Argider whispered in a daze.
She whipped her head around and squinted, trying to focus on her surroundings. But to no avail, not another soul was in sight, leaving her alone and disoriented.
'I must have lost my mind,' she speculated, her thoughts swirling wildly. The aftereffects of the skill seemed to be taking hold, causing her perception of reality to become distorted.
But then, a small figure surfaced from the dark corner.
It had long, twitching ears, its entire body was a black monochrome in color, and its wide eyes were devoid of any pupils. It moved in a sinuous manner, walking on all fours, its tail swishing lazily behind it.
Not only that, but it was also adorned with a soft, fluffy fur all over its body.
And there was a soft, yet distinctly feline noise, the sound of a small "meow" escaping from its mouth.
Argider squinted her eyes again. A cat? She was certain that there were no windows or any other openings in her cell. Was this all just a product of the skill's lingering effects? Death was all that she desired, not this mind-bending confusion.
"You're not confused. I'm the one who told you to stop," it spoke, their voice deep and manly.
Her limbs instantly felt heavy and uncoordinated from stupefaction. She sank down onto the cool stone floor, her mind struggling to make sense of the bizarre reality unfolding before her. The cat had just spoken, and for a moment, she wondered if she had finally lost her grip on sanity.
There were already so many strange happenings in her life that she found herself reacting more out of resignation than surprise.
She finally found her voice, asking tentatively, "Are you the grim reaper?"
The cat responded emphatically, "No."
"Then am I dead? Are you some sort of spirit?" she continued, her mind racing to find an explanation. "I've heard of such cat-like entities in other cultures. Like the ones who worship cats or think cats are goodluck."
The cat cocked its head, its unblinking gaze fixed on her. "No," it mewed in reply. "You reek of blood. And besides, that little trick you tried wouldn't have worked. Your Emotional Inundation Skill is only at level one. You'd probably end up just going hysterical."
"So, utilizing the skill on oneself would merely exacerbate the desire for cessation, is that it?" she responded.
"Your skills' advancement hinges on redemption. It would seem that such endeavors are rather counterproductive," the feline replied with a slight hint of derision in its voice.
Argider chuckled bitterly, more at herself than anything else. "Redemption, you say? How amusing." Her voice held a tinge of irony. "Nineteen years of my existence, and it seems I've done nothing but struggle to stay on the straight and narrow, just like the rest."
"Such a mindset is a luxury I can't afford," the small creature voiced out.
"You? Wouldn't that be me?" she was baffled.
"I suppose that would be the case,"
"And... who are you? You feel rather... human." Argider queried, her eyes narrowing as she attempted to discern the true nature of her mysterious visitor.
A chilling hush enveloped the surroundings, its weighty stillness enhancing the ominous atmosphere that permeated the chamber.
"I am the First Emperor," he answered, its aloof tone betraying not a hint of emotion.