The fifth test was about to start, and Lythian stood at the center stage.
Only 154 applicants remained, and this round was all about potion brewing.
'Fuck. I skipped this part.'
Potions? He never cared about mixing weird stuff together. It sounded boring as hell. But now, standing here, he kind of regretted it.
He couldn't help but think back to when that old lady poisoned him, letting out a dry chuckle.
'Guess I do need potions.'
As the proctor led them to their stations, going over the equipment, ingredients, and safety rules, Lythian only half-listened.
Something about precise measurements, controlled heat, and the importance of stirring in the right direction—blah, blah, blah.
He wasn't here to play alchemist.
Instead, his gaze wandered to the horizon.
"…Did he really just die in some ditch or what?"
***
Seven's eyes snapped open.
'Where am I?'
But there was nothing to see. Just pitch-black emptiness.
Other than his hungry stomach, the only sound that reached his ears was the rhythmic scraping of metal against metal somewhere nearby.
His throat was dry. His cracked lips ached. He swallowed, but all it did was remind him how empty his stomach was.
'Two days…'
He counted. 177,777 seconds had passed. Today was the third day in this void.
The air was pressed against his nose with a smell of rust, damp stone, and sweat that made his instincts scream danger.
This wasn't Theia's realm. There was no water beneath his feet.
And he couldn't move.
His arms were stretched out, wrists and ankles bound so tightly the ropes cut into his skin. His weight pulled against his limbs in a way that made his shoulders scream in pain.
A cross.
He was bound like a sacrifice.
Breathing fast, Seven forced himself to stay calm. His body was locked up, restrained, but his mind was still his.
He needed to think.
He needed to—
'The test.'
His stomach twisted, but not from hunger.
'Did I… fail?'
'Did anyone even notice I was missing?'
If he had known it would be like this, he shouldn't have dragged Lythian out the village. He should have forced Lythian to suffer this with him.
Creak.
A low groan of metal shifting.
Then, a sliver of light cut through the darkness as a heavy door scraped open.
Light bled into the darkness. Seven squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden sting, but the dim glow still burned through his eyelids.
The air shifted.
A new scent. Blood.
Blood.
Step. Step.
Two men entered with heavy footsteps. One of them carried a box.
"Is the sacrifice dead?"
"Probably. Hasn't eaten for two days."
Crang!
Metal struck the floor with a sharp impact. Seven clenched his jaw, his breath shallow. He kept his eyes shut, praying they would leave him alone if they thought he was unconscious.
But then, cold fingers brushed against his bare stomach. An ear pressed to his skin, listening to the gurgle of his empty stomach.
Growl.
"Still alive?"
"Barely. His stomach's already eating itself."
Seven flinched. His body betrayed him.
The man noticed, as fingers grabbed Seven's face and pried his eyelids open. His pupils shrank against the light.
"What a pretty little eye you have here."
Seven sucked in a sharp breath. He tried to pull back, but the restraints wouldn't let him. He tried to speak, but a filthy cloth was shoved deep into his mouth.
Step.
Slowly, the two men lowered the cross and laid it down on a platform. Then, one of them brushed his hands over Seven's hair.
"Urkhhh…"
Seven let out a muffled grunt as his head was yanked back.
"It's okay. It won't hurt much."
Whirrrrrrr.
A high-pitched, mechanical whine.
Seven's stomach twisted. He knew that sound.
A drill.
His breathing became erratic. He struggled, thrashed, tugged at his binds, every muscle screaming at him to run, fight, do something, but it was useless.
The drill's whirring grew louder.
Skkkrrrrkkkk!
A searing explosion of pain.
The drill bit into his skull
Bone cracked. Nerves shredded. Agony exploded inside his head like wildfire. He tried to scream, but the gag muffled his cries, forcing them back into his throat like a dying, gurgled sob.
His body convulsed. His vision flashed white, then red, then black. And then…
Silence.
Slowly, his vision turned back to normal.
He was back.
Same darkness. Same suffocating air.
Creak.
The door creaked open again.
The same two men entered. But this time, they carried no box. Just a drill. And pliers.
Seven's stomach dropped. His entire body tensed, already anticipating the pain.
'No.'
'No, no, no—'
It happened again.
The drill. The searing pain. The way his body seized and twisted. The moment where the metal burrowed deep into his skull, deeper than last time.
Darkness.
Creak.
Two men entered, repeating the process.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The pain never lessened, but his body and mind grew tired. The sensation of pain dulled. His muscles stopped thrashing. His screams turned silent.
Until now, as the drill whined beside his ear, he didn't even flinch.
Didn't react.
Didn't fight.
Seven just lay there, empty-eyed, waiting for the pain to start again.
But then…
Snap!
A finger snapped. The scene changed. He wasn't there anymore.
The stench of blood and rust was gone. Instead, the crisp scent of grass filled the air. The suffocating darkness lifted, replaced by the dim glow of the illusion.
The Mirage Village.
The girl across from him giggled, shoulders shaking as she tried and failed to stifle her laughter.
Seven blinked. His breath was still shaky, his body trembling as if expecting the pain to return.
She noticed, and her laughter faded into a knowing smile.
"How was it?
Slowly, she tilted her head.
"Seeing the fate of the past 'you's?"
Seven stiffened.
Seven's hands curled into fists. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
'What the hell is she talking about?'
'...Past 'me's?'
His lips parted, questions burning on his tongue, but before he could speak, the girl smiled again.
"Ah, it's almost time. You're about to forget again."
"Forget wh—"
Seven barely had time to react before she snapped her fingers.
Snap!
He was back there again. Two men. Same room. Same cross. Same drill. Same skull. Same pain.
Whirrrrr!
The first twist of metal into bone sent a white-hot bolt of agony down his spine, his nerves lighting up like firecrackers, vision bursting into static.
His every fiber screamed to move, move, MOVE!!
But he couldn't.
The ropes dug deeper into his skin.
Snap!
Seven was back in the village.
Across from him, the same girl now sat on the ground beneath the same post.
"It doesn't get any easier, does it?"
Seven's fingers twitched.
"What… what the fudge is this?"
"A lesson."
Seven staggered forward. The pain, the village—it felt so real. But he knew better now.
'Illusion.'
Nothing about this was real.
"Who are you?"
The girl simply rested her chin on her palm, considering him for a moment before answering.
"Just someone who's seen it all before."
Snap!
She snapped her fingers. This time, instead of the prison, Seven stood in the middle of the forest, right outside the Mirage Village.
'Fud– Theia's Eye.'
But even after activating the artifact, the village wasn't in sight.
The girl's words echoed in his mind as he slowly stood, but a voice cut through the silence.
"Fucker. You're still alive?"