Asher had tried. He really had.
He kept telling himself they weren't real — that all of this was just another illusion. But after eight long months, it was hard to rember that.
So when he stood before the bodies of his friends, his vision blurred, unable to see their faces through the flood of tears.
"I knew this would happen… so why…"
He lifted his head. A massive leopard stood before him — a Saint in its beast form, its eyes glowing cold and rciless.
"Why am I… so sad—"
Before the words could leave his lips, sothing flashed.
Slash.
His neck gave way.
Thud.
Then—
A snap.
The world shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the ringing in his ears and the echo of his own heartbeat.
When his vision returned, he was gasping. He couldn't breathe. His chest was to small. He clutched his face, trembling.
Another illusion.
He looked around wildly, panic rising like bile. His breaths ca shallow and sharp. "How long…?" he whispered. "How long will this go on?"
Two years.
Almost two years trapped in nightmares that tore him apart, piece by piece.
"When?" His voice broke. "When will it end?"
Silence.
He lowered his head, shaking uncontrollably.
"P-please…" His words ca out as a sob. "Please leave alone…"
Nothing answered.
Only the emptiness.
Then—
"Uwshi! What are you doing? We need to go hunting!"
Asher froze. Slowly, he turned.
More dark-skinned faces and warm smiles.
Another illusion.
That illusion lasted six months.
The next, four.
Then two.
Then one.
Every illusion ended the sa way — Asher watched everyone he knew die… and then died himself.
Each world wrung sothing new from him, sothing raw. He couldn't stop feeling. Couldn't stop breaking.
The first was gentle — the happiest.
Then it all began to fall apart.
Happiness.
It's peaceful.
Grief.
Why was this happening to him?
Snap.
Shock.
Why was this happening to him?
Snap.
Fear.
Why was this happening to him?
Snap.
Disgust.
Why was this happening to him?
Snap.
Anger.
Why was this happening to him?!
Snap.
Anger.
Why.. Why?!
Snap.
Fear.
When was death coming world him?
Snap.
Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.
When was he going to die?
Snap.
Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.
Is it soon?
Snap.
Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.
He didn't want to die.
Not again. Not again.
But he knew he would. It was the only constant.
Snap.
Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.
By the end of countless lifetis, only one emotion remained carved into his soul:
Fear.
Fear he was going to die.
Fear he will always be stuck in these loops.
Fear he will never complete his second nightmare.
Fear that he would hear the inevitable snap.
It was fear.
Only fear.
But then, sothing in Asher broke. Again.
After who knows how many illusions, Asher stood amidst an inferno, flas devouring everything around him. The dagger in his trembling hand glead faintly against the firelight. He stared at it for a long ti, eyes hollow, breath steady.
And then, slowly, he raised it to his neck… and pushed.
Snap.
He finally found the courage to kill himself — to end the illusion early.
In that single, fleeting mont before darkness took him, Asher realized sothing painfully simple.
Nether wasn't testing his strength.
He was watching his emotions.
Every illusion, every death, every shred of despair — all of it had been for Nether's amusent.
So Asher made a choice.
If emotion was the entertainnt… he would take that away.
The next illusion began.
Asher's hands trembled — then moved to his throat.
He choked himself without hesitation.
Snap.
The next. Nether had learned — Asher's body was stone this ti. But that didn't matter.
He slamd his head into a boulder until darkness took him.
Snap.
The next. A dungeon, chained with no escape.
He bit off his tongue and drowned in his own blood.
Snap.
Again and again.
He refused to give Nether what he wanted.
And with each suicide, Asher's fear of death faded into nothing.
Finally, the last illusion ca.He was a creature of stone once more — chained, blindfolded, motionless.He couldn't kill himself this ti. But why would he?
What pleasure could Nether possibly draw from this emptiness? What joy was there in watching a man who no longer cared to suffer?
So Asher waited.
He didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't react.
Weeks passed in suffocating silence.
Then, at long last—
Snap.
The illusion shattered.
***
"Unpleasant."
A voice spoke. Asher realised he could only partially see from one eye as he didn't their to look up. Footsteps echoed towards him as Asher.
His other eye burst. Darkness swallowed him whole.
But Asher didn't react. Not a flinch, not a sound. Right at this very mont, Asher was nothing but a emotionless husk.
"It seems I broke it."
That words stirred sothing dormant in Asher, he stayed silent.
"Throw it into the battlefield," the voice commanded, dismissive. "Perhaps it will be of so use there. I've learned all I can from this… thing."
Countless others responded at once:
"Yes, my Lord!"
Rough hands gripped him, dragging his body — the sa spot where he had sat for a year and a half, as they marched. Soon, Asher could hear the familiar war crys.
—Swish!
They threw him.
Asher's body slamd into cobblestone with a dull crack. He lay there motionless, blind eyes staring into nothing.
Seconds passed. Then minutes.
Finally, his fingers twitched. They dug into the earth, trembling, trembling harder…
A breath escaped his lips — the first in what felt like eternity.
He was free.
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