"A guilt trip is still a trip—you don't have to take it. Walk a different path. Choose a different road. Guilt only devours those who step willingly into its jaws." — Number 1 Bullshitter
—
House Silva, Patriarch's Office
Finishing up his after-lunch paperwork, Sebastian slowly stood from his desk, intending to head to his room and change before eting Acier and the others in the gym for their afternoon spar.
Just as he rounded the desk, he suddenly stopped mid-step, turning back with a slow blink of disbelief. His voice carried clear shock.
"You already got a lead... isn't this a bit too fast?"
Perched on the windowsill, the anti-bird Secre Swallowtail ruffled her white and black feathers before lifting one of her small wings. Then, with a firm shake of her head, she denied it.
Sebastian's brows furrowed slightly. His expression twisted into one of mild bewildernt as he eyed her strangely.
"What do you an no? We just talked a re two days ago. You consider this slow?"
Secre blinked her avian eyes before letting out a low, almost mocking, almost annoyed chirp.
"I'm not here about the stones... I haven't even started looking for them yet."
Sebastian stilled, then crouched to et her at eye level, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Then what are you here for?"
As soon as he asked, the forr noblewoman narrowed her eyes into near-closed slits and let out another chirp.
"Sothing strange has appeared in Hage..."
Sebastian tensed as she continued, her voice coming out rough and fragnted, the sound of soone who had barely spoken in five centuries.
"A-Although nothing much has happened since it appeared... it seems like trouble. It's just a matter of ti before the villagers discover it and do sothing stupid that could trigger whatever it is..."
"...I could do without so sudden incident disturbing my Prince's rest. So can you co and check it out...?"
Sebastian blinked, then asked in a somber tone, "Do you have any clue what it is?"
Secre parted her beak, her squeaky voice filling the room, laced with monotone.
"Only that it's so magical circle..."
"I've never seen runes or sigils like that, so I have no clue what it could possibly be."
Though her voice remained indifferent, Sebastian caught the faint trace of unease beneath it.
Secre Swallowtail was the assistant and servant of the first Wizard King, Lemiel Silvamillion Clover—a magical geek.
Lemiel had studied countless ancient civilizations, magical tos, ruins, and the works of ancient mages. He had kickstarted the magical tool revolution to narrow the gap in magical class.
As his assistant, Secre was highly competent and well-learned. There was very little she didn't know about the magical system—or, at the very least, couldn't make inferences about.
So for her to be completely stumped, unable to make the slightest sense of what she had seen, ant this was serious.
Sebastian sighed. Instead of responding to her, he lifted his right hand, bringing his wrist near his mouth. A plain silver bracelet sat there, its single embedded gemstone glowing faintly as he activated it.
Soon, his wife's voice ca through.
"Sebby? Is sothing wrong? You've been taking a while."
Sebastian parted his lips and spoke softly into the gemstone. "Sorry, Acier. I have sothing to do—I'll be out for a while."
The line went silent for a mont before Acier's voice returned.
"How long is a while?"
Sebastian smiled softly. The fact that she didn't ask why, what for, or even where he was going ward his heart. Little things like that—small signs of trust—made life more comfortable.
He had neither the need nor the desire to hide anything, but he still appreciated the gesture.
Sebastian answered a bit apologetically, "I'd like to say I'll be back by dinner... but you know, with my luck..."
"Hah." He could hear Acier's resigned sigh, followed by the click of her tongue.
"Alright. But just rember—your son is getting engaged in three days."
Sebastian chuckled and nodded. "I know, I know. I wouldn't miss it for the world." He really hoped he hadn't just set off a giant flag.
Acier seed to share that concern. "Don't jinx it, you idiot... Whatever. Just be safe, don't do anything stupid, and don't take off your bracelet."
Sebastian nodded teasingly. "Yes, yes, I understand, my lady. See you later."
"See ya..." Acier trailed off as the gem on his bracelet dimd, signaling the magical line of communication had gone dead.
Sebastian smiled and looked back up, once again locking his ocean-blue eyes with Secre's empty, pitch-black avian irises.
"Let's go."
Without another word—or even asking for permission—Secre casually flapped her wings, floating upward before landing atop Sebastian's head like a makeshift nest.
He didn't mind. Or if he did, he didn't make a deal about it.
With a smooth hop, he leapt out the window. A water eagle materialized beneath his feet, carrying him as he shot through the air like a rocket, straight toward the Forsaken Realm.
—
As they streaked across the horizon, Sebastian tilted his head thoughtfully and spoke.
"Is there any point in staying as a bird anymore? Surely your human form would make things easier for you."
Secre, not the least bit affected by the tilt of her "nest," answered emotionlessly from atop his head.
"I'm like this because I cast forbidden magic... I need to be exposed to the other world again to turn back into a human."
Sebastian nodded calmly. So that plot point still exists here... does that an I have to open the Shadow Palace before Secre can unseal Lemiel?
He sighed. He had kind of hoped there was another way, but it looked like he might very well have to free Zagred himself.
Seems like Patry might not even get a chance to be a pawn, Sebastian chuckled inwardly.
As they floated high above Hage, he spoke again.
"Where to?"
Secre pointed her wing straight down. "To the ancient demon skull."
Sebastian clicked his tongue. "So that's why no one has found anything yet..."
Outliers like Asta aside, it wasn't common for people to visit the skull—not even the villagers of Hage.
After all, these were the remains of the monster that nearly destroyed the world.
It wasn't exactly a good on to treat it like so tourist attraction.
There was a reason Hage was considered the boonies of the boonies. The skull alone was enough to keep people far away.
Dispelling his water eagle into motes of blue light, Sebastian guided his mana zone to allow himself to float down toward the skull. Discreetly. (Hopefully without alerting any villagers.)
As soon as his feet touched the ground, his eyes widened. His face was illuminated by an otherworldly glow—the very thing Secre had spoken of.
His boots crunched against the grass as he slowly stepped inside the skull, his gaze locked onto a small, glowing, floating blue orb.
It flickered, oscillating between a magical construct of mana and a condensed physical mass of so natural energy, as if it existed in both states at once.
The strange orb was a singularity of sorts. Around it, magical circles revolved in a slow, helical pattern.
They were silver-white, adorned with crimson sigils and runes—ones Sebastian had never seen before.
Through his studies under Zara, he had co to recognize most sigils as resembling the Greek alphabet or Japanese kanji—essentially, letters of an alphabet.
But as he circled the floating mass, the sigils under his scrutiny looked different. Less like letters. More like pictures. Symbols.
Like hieroglyphics.
Like the strange script etched into his grimoire when he knelt before the prival cross to be validated as a blessed.
Like the text in the original gospel.
But at the sa ti, it felt... distinct.
It's less divine and awe-inspiring. More humane. More natural, if I had to say, Sebastian mused inwardly.
Secre flew from his head and perched on the branch of a massive tree growing inward through the skull's hollow eye sockets.
She narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, watching him pace. "Any ideas?" she chirped.
Sebastian paused, glancing up to et her gaze. He scratched his chin thoughtfully before nodding.
"Yeah, but they're just suspicions. I'll need so ti to think—or maybe contact an expert—whoa!"
He didn't get to finish.
The blue orb suddenly pulsed crimson red.
Then, like he was caught in the suction force of a black hole, Sebastian found himself completely unable to move.
In the next instant, he was pulled in—swallowed whole by the sphere.
Secre blinked blankly.
She watched as the sphere, along with the magical circles surrounding it, dematerialized into nothing but motes of light.
Sebastian was gone.
Silence.
A long, drawn-out, awkward silence filled the skull.
Then, without a word, Secre flapped her wings and took off, flying upward before landing on the head of Lemiel's statue.
She blinked again.
Then curled into a tight ball, covering her face with her wings. Closed her eyes.
Not her problem.
And even if it was—what could a little bird like her do about it?
He'd be fine.
And even if he wasn't...
His wife would surely do sothing about it.
That was how Secre reasoned away her conscience, justifying her decision to look the other way.
And take a midday nap.
Maybe she'd do sothing about it when she woke up.
—
Sebastian nearly fell face-first onto a black-and-white, astral-like floor—one that reminded him far too much of his own mindscape.
The place where his soul had once been chained and bound.
Where a parasite had controlled his body.
Not exactly comforting.
Feeling his PTSD creeping in, Sebastian forced his hands out in ti, twisting midair. With an acrobatic backflip, he reoriented himself and landed smoothly on his feet.
Dusting himself off absentmindedly, he gaped as he took in his surroundings.
The blue sky was gone.
In its place stretched a cosmic vault of heaven—the sa kind he recalled Acier entering when Alden transported her to receive their Lover's card.
Celestial bodies flickered in an endless loop of birth and death.
Hues of dark blue, bright red, yellow, white, purple, black, and more stretched across the expanse, intermingling in irregular, shifting shapes.
Supernovas clashed, tearing through galaxies. Cots streaked like fleeting thoughts.
The northern lights and aurora borealis danced together, painting the stratosphere in aquatic shades—rippling waves of color born from cosmic catastrophe.
Sebastian stood frozen, srized by the sheer beauty of it all.
"Where... am I?" he murmured dreamily.
The thought lingered.
Then, shaking himself free of the trance, he narrowed his eyes and looked forward.
In front of him stood what could only be described as a labyrinth.
White walls stretched high, adorned with glowing blue circuits that pulsed like veins—magical, code-like, alive.
Sebastian flickered forward, reappearing right at the entrance. But he didn't step inside.
Instead, he scrutinized it, trying to see through it—peering into the maze from the threshold.
Nothing.
His vision was blocked by a strange, censored blur, like a video ga character staring at an unexplored map.
That was the only analogy that ca to mind.
Frowning, he concentrated mana into his eyes.
No change.
Using his water body, he split off a tiny droplet of his soul and ford a water clone.
The clone gave him a silent nod, their minds linked, and stepped forward—only to hit an invisible wall, unable to go any further.
Sebastian and his clone exchanged a look.
Then sighed in perfect sync.
Without another word, the clone dissolved back into a droplet, seeping into Sebastian's body and reuniting with his soul.
Arms crossed, deep in thought, Sebastian tapped his foot rhythmically.
Bit his lip.
Should I just throw caution to the wind and head inside?
It seed he wouldn't have much of a choice.
Breaking him out of his thoughts, a ga-like holographic screen flickered into existence before him.
Sebastian's gaze darkened as words began appearing, scrolling slowly down the screen on their own.
Welco to the Maze of Mystery, where lives and fates can be changed!
Sebastian nearly cringed at the na but kept reading.
If you wish to leave and return from where you ca, rely reach the end of the maze or complete any single trial inside!
Simple, right?
Sebastian didn't bother responding and kept scanning the words.
There is no alternative exit from this subspace. Unless you've mastered the intricacies of dinsional travel or the laws of space, you won't be able to brute-force your escape.
Play along, and you'll probably win big. Refuse, and you'll be stranded here until the day you die.
So what will it be, Sebastian Wyner? Will you play, or will you waste away?
Sebastian stiffened.
A million thunderbolts crashed through his mind.
Wyner.
That was his last na. His old last na. His fake life. A na he had rarely used since his parents died, one that had all but faded from his mory.
And yet—whatever this thing was—it had just called him that.
It knew who he was. What he really was.
And there was only one group that ca to mind with that revelation.
His fist clenched, jaw tight. A low growl rumbled from his throat.
"Dammit... What exactly do you guys in heaven want from ?! What's with all these roundabout gas and riddles? Just tell what I'm supposed to do—"
Sebastian froze.
New words materialized on the screen. This ti, they were accompanied by a voice. A gentle, masculine voice.
"This has nothing to do with those divinities living it up in Empyrean. This has nothing to do with that damn scribe and his plots... or rather, it has everything not to do with him."
"If you want answers—if you want a way out, one that lets you take back the reins of your fate and destiny... one that lets you cut the strings making you dance like a puppet—then accept the challenge. Complete it, and you may find what you're looking for."
"The choice is yours."
Sebastian chuckled darkly. "Not much of a choice, is it?"
No new words appeared on the screen. No voice echoed in response.
His smile twisted, darker and wholly unamused. "Reach the end, huh? Fine. But I'll do it my way."
He prepared to take flight, intending to soar straight to the maze's exit—only to freeze.
His body refused to move. His mana wouldn't obey.
He activated his mana zone as naturally as breathing, expecting to rise into the air. But his feet remained firmly planted on the ground, as if weighed down by invisible chains.
The words on the screen shifted again.
"Naturally, flight is forbidden here. Oh, and if you think you can jump or climb over the maze, you're welco to try. But it's a pointless endeavor. You can't scale higher than the walls."
Sebastian blinked.
The barely concealed mockery grated on his nerves, but he refused to let it show.
Tempted as he was to test the claim out of sheer spite, he restrained himself. No need to look like an idiot.
Inwardly sighing, he strode straight through the holographic screen and into the maze.
As he did, the interface floated to the side, its text shifting once more—this ti, with no accompanying voice.
Excellent.
Sebastian ignored it.
Sothing about the screen pissed him off. Inexplicably, irrationally, it irritated him far more than it should. So he kept his eyes forward.
The labyrinth, once obscured and blurred, now unraveled before him.
At the very first intersection, three distinct paths branched in different directions, twisting toward unknown obstacles. And without a doubt, they would continue to divide, splitting and diverting further the deeper he ventured.
The idea of blindly choosing a path only to hit a dead end—and having to backtrack—was maddening.
So he refused to play along.
It seed only his ability to take flight was suppressed; his magic itself remained untouched.
Without hesitation, two small spheres of water separated from his body, solidifying into a pair of water clones.
Sebastian glanced sideways at the interface, half-expecting it to raise an objection. When it didn't, he rely snorted in derision.
A thin thread of water extended from his fingertips, connecting him and his clones in an unbreakable tether.
Then, without another word, he stepped forward into the center path. His clones veered right and left.
The three Sebastians moved in unison, navigating the maze.
The structure was anything but simple—there were staircases leading both up and down, floating square platforms that defied gravity, and obstacles that felt straight out of a parkour course.
At every intersection, Sebastian and his clones split again, producing more duplicates, each linked by the ever-winding water thread like an unraveling ball of yarn.
Whenever a clone encountered a dead end, it would dissolve into the thread, flowing back to the nearest Sebastian and rging seamlessly.
The pattern repeated endlessly.
Weave. Trek. Split. Pause. Return. Rejoin.
Again and again, they pushed deeper into the maze.
And when Sebastian himself t a dead end, he didn't hesitate—he simply traveled through the water thread, consud his nearest clone, and continued forward without a care.
They were making good progress—too good.
No resistance. No obstacles worth ntioning. It should've been a relief, but instead, it filled Sebastian with a creeping sense of unease.
The interface didn't feel malevolent, nor did it speak with an outright sinister tone. But it wasn't a pushover either. There was sothing conniving about it.
It claid things would be simple.
And if there was one universal truth Sebastian had learned, it was that when soone promised things would be simple, they almost never were.
He didn't count on this being the lucky 0.01% exception.
Just as his instincts scread at him to stop, to turn back, to run—he hesitated.
Because this ti, when he rounded the corner, he didn't find another easy path stretching ahead.
He found an obstruction.
Not one of the laughable hurdles he'd encountered so far, but a real challenge.
Rather than making him tense, it made him exhale in relief.
Undisguised obstacles were always preferable to hidden ones. At least you could see them coming.
Before him stood a futuristic lectern. Suspended above it was a floating cube-shaped holographic display.
Narrowing his eyes, Sebastian stepped closer. The mont he did, the cube's surface lit up, lines of text appearing as if typed in real ti.
Welco to your first, and hopefully last, trial!
"Whoopie," Sebastian muttered, deadpan.
Unbothered by his lack of enthusiasm, the cube continued.
You have three choices!
A ga of chance – Spin the Cube! Everyone's favorite paper-and-pencil activity – Tic-Tac-Toe! The challenge that separates the cowardly from the brave – Truth or Dare!
What will it be?
Sebastian blinked. Then he turned to the floating interface at his side, staring at it like it had personally offended him.
"Seriously?" He pointed at the cube. "This is the challenge?"
The interface's response appeared instantly.
Were you expecting a fight to the death? If that's your fetish... that can be arranged.
Sebastian's expression darkened. Ignoring the provocation, he turned back to the cube.
"If I choose Tic-Tac-Toe, do I get to go first?"
The interface flickered, adjusting its text.
That will be left to a randomizer. Don't worry, it's completely unbiased and fair. You have a 50% chance of taking the first turn.
Sebastian frowned.
In Tic-Tac-Toe, perfect play ant the first player either won or forced a draw. The second player could, at best, force a draw.
He doubted he was perfect. And he had even less faith in luck favoring him.
Stroking his chin, he fired off more questions.
"Exactly how many rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe would there be? Who am I playing against? And what happens if I lose or draw?"
The screen updated, three concise lines appearing in response.
One A loss is a loss. A draw is awarded a chance of redemption.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "So there's a penalty for losing."
It wasn't a question. The interface confird it anyway.
Yes. A loss is a strike. Three strikes, and you will be forced to play the Death Trial.
Sebastian tensed—then snorted. "Truth or Dare."
Are you sure?
He nodded. His plan was simple: pick Truth, answer honestly, and move on. There was no one else here. No reason to care about embarrassnt or exposure.
"Yes, I'm sure. Get on with it."
Ok.
The interface floated to the other side of the cube. The selection screen brightened, highlighting Option 3: Truth or Dare.
Two large buttons appeared.
Truth.
Dare.
Without hesitation, Sebastian raised a finger and tapped Truth.
The screen went blank for a mont. Then, three dots appeared, pulsing like an unsent ssage.
Ding!
A bell-like chi rang out. Then, a single line of text materialized.
Sebastian read it.
Then he read it again.
His body stiffened. Teeth clenched, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. His face twisted with sothing raw, sothing close to self-loathing.
The question wouldn't change.
Do you love Nozel the most of all your children?
His fingers dug into the lectern, gripping it tight enough to crack. He exhaled sharply, hunched over, bracing himself to answer—
And then the voice from before returned.
"We can change it to a dare. Or you can take a loss."
Sebastian's lips quivered. He squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders rising and falling with controlled breaths. Then, in a whisper—
"...Please."
"Dare or lose?"
He trembled. Then, hoarsely—
"...I'll take the loss."
The lectern vanished, dissolving into motes of light. The cube disappeared with it, leaving only the interface in his path.
Three square boxes appeared on its screen. The first one darkened with a red X.
Sebastian didn't even look.
He walked straight through the interface and deeper into the maze.
If anyone who truly knew him had been there, they would have noticed sothing off.
The way his aristocratic posture—so rigid, so unshakable, as if even the end of the world wouldn't make him bend—
Had finally yielded.
Now, he just walked.
Like a man who had already lost.
Sebastian moved forward, but his steps had lost their urgency. No longer quick, no longer certain. Each one was cautious. asured. Tainted with sothing close to fear.
At the next intersection, he started to split off more clones—then stopped.
His head snapped left.
Deep down that path, one of his clones had encountered sothing. He felt it through their link, the unmistakable ripple of an obstruction.
Sebastian exhaled slowly, gaze boring through the white wall ahead as if he could see past it—past all the walls, straight to the clone in question.
Then he made a decision.
He split off several new water clones to continue on without him, then seeped into the water thread—erging where the troubled clone stood. Absorbing it. Taking its place.
As he surveyed his surroundings, his eyes landed on sothing that made him pause.
Another lectern.
A beat later, the interface materialized beside him.
Sebastian didn't even acknowledge it. With a sigh, he strode toward the lectern, watching coldly as words printed themselves across the glowing cube.
Welco to your second and hopefully final trial!
You have three choices!
Truth or Dare Lite - Would You Rather! Everyone's favorite sadistic guessing ga - Hangman! A test of intelligence - Riddle This!
Sebastian's eyes flickered warily.
"...What gets hanged in Hangman?"
The interface screen lit up.
Wouldn't you like to know.
Sebastian's jaw tightened. "You're not going to tell ?"
If the interface had a head, he was sure it would've shaken it.
That has to do with the rules and surprise of the ga. If you choose Option 2, I will naturally answer your question.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You answered my questions last ti."
That was a freebie.
Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers curling into a fist—then relaxing.
"...Fine. Option 3."
He had a feeling he'd regret it.
Again.
The interface floated silently to the other side of the cube. Once again, a typing motion flickered across its surface before new text appeared.
I stand in silence, filled with despair,
Once filled with laughter, now a hollow stare.
I remind you of love that left without warning,
What am I, that haunts you each morning?
Sebastian stiffened. His fingers clamped down on the lectern, knuckles white.
Flashes of the past. A body that wasn't his own. A voice that wasn't his own.
Acier's despair. Over and over again.
Once, he had been her light. Her joy. Her everything. Then, he beca her nightmare—the kind you can't wake up from. The kind that clings like a shadow, no matter how much you try to push it away.
And she refused to push him away.
She always greeted him with love, with warmth. But had those wounds ever truly healed? Or had they simply scarred over, thin and fragile, ready to tear open at the slightest touch?
His lips parted. He bit down on them until he tasted blood.
"...."
The word scraped out of his throat.
For a mont, silence. Then, the lectern and holographic cube dissolved into motes of light.
Text appeared on the interface's screen.
Incorrect.
Sebastian froze. His breath caught in his chest as more words followed, this ti accompanied by that voice.
"The answer I was looking for was regret. This was an abstract question, yet you made it all about you. Honestly, how self-absorbed are you—"
"YOU BASTARD!!"
The roar tore from Sebastian's throat, raw, visceral. His face burned red, veins bulging at his temples as he pointed an accusatory finger.
"YOU'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!"
A surge of mana. His right arm encased itself in the gauntlet of Pontus, and he swung—full force—at the interface.
A useless effort.
His fist passed through like it was never there, sending him stumbling forward.
Teeth grinding, Sebastian whirled back. Droplets of water gathered in the air, coalescing into countless high-pressure jets, launching straight at the interface—
They hit nothing.
Passed right through.
Struck the walls behind it, leaving not even a scratch.
Sebastian stood there, panting, trembling, rage boiling in his gut.
Why?
Why was he losing control like this? Why was this place, this thing, unearthing sothing so raw, so volatile, like a knife twisting in an old wound?
His eyes darted around, searching for an answer. So kind of spell? A barrier? A manipulation of his emotions?
He sucked in a sharp breath. Then another. It wasn't working.
So, he did sothing drastic.
Twack!
A mana-reinforced slap to his own face. His head snapped back violently, his vision blurred for a split second, and a large, bloody handprint blood across his cheek.
For the first ti in what felt like hours, clarity.
A cool glow of watery blue washed over his skin, and when it faded, there wasn't a single injury left. Not a drop of sweat.
Sebastian's tense muscles and joints softened, his stomach retracted as he exhaled heavily.
He was back in control.
For now.
Sebastian slowly straightened, his movents deliberate, composed. The interface's screen flickered with new words.
"Do you accept your loss?"
He nodded, swallowing down everything that threatened to surface.
The screen changed again. The second box was checked—another red X.
Without a word, he turned, ready to continue through the maze.
Then, the interface spoke.
"You claid I was doing this on purpose."
Sebastian froze mid-step. His back remained to the interface as it continued.
"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Maybe the problem isn't , but you. The one who takes the bla for everything. The one who refuses to forgive himself, even when it isn't his fault. The one forever chained to the past."
"Sebastian, not everything revolves around you. Not everything wrong with the world—or with your family—can, or should, be placed on your shoulders."
His body trembled—just slightly. But he didn't turn. Didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge it.
He just walked.
The interface followed in silence.
The sa cycle repeated. Navigating. Splitting. Backtracking. Warping. Over and over.
Until once again, Sebastian found himself before another lectern.
Once again, the cube flickered to life.
Welco to your third and hopefully final trial!
You have three choices!
The go-to icebreaker – Two Truths and a Lie! We can all be Sherlock – Guess Who? Where do we stand – Never Have I Ever!
What will it be?
Sebastian stood still. Trembled.
Once.
Twice.
Then, all at once, it was as if sothing inside him snapped. His face darkened into sothing twisted, sothing raw, sothing unrecognizable—even to those closest to him.
His breath hitched, his legs nearly buckling.
"What do you want from ?!"
The words tore out of his throat, a desperate roar to the heavens.
Nothing.
No answer.
His vision blurred at the edges, his fury burning away reason, leaving only exhaustion and rage. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the screen, his voice hoarse as he spat—
"I take the loss. Initiate the death trial."
The lectern vanished into motes of light.
On the interface, the final box was marked with an X.
Understood.
Initiating final chance.
The Death Trial.
The astral ground beneath Sebastian trembled, sending sharp jolts through his body. Around him, the maze walls began to shift—pulling apart, rising higher and higher into the air.
One by one, the barriers dissolved.
His clones, once separated by the maze's divisions, were now fully visible to each other. Without hesitation, Sebastian summoned them back, threads of water pulling them into his core, his soul knitting itself whole once more.
Or as whole as it could be—if not for the piece Acier had incinerated earlier this week.
Sebastian barely had ti to process before the walls and dividers around him liquefied, swirling into a mass of silver tal. The shifting pool gathered, twisted, took shape—an invisible force molding it into sothing enormous.
A towering golem.
White, featureless, yet lined with pulsing, blue circuit-like veins.
Its empty eyes glowed red.
The interface spoke.
"Destroy the puppet to secure victory. The battle will not end until one side is incapacitated. All restrictions on Player Sebastian have been lifted entirely."
Sebastian clenched his fist. The sheer pressure radiating from the golem made it hard to breathe.
And yet—
He smiled.
A slow, sharp, maniacal smile.
A battle to the death?
That, he could do.
This, he preferred.
—
Author's Notes:
[1] I didn't update yesterday, because I was working on a project and felt lazy
[2] As always, feel free to join the Discord: sdiscord.gg/s3M8X8ar
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