During this endless imprisonnt, Annan had already tried too many thods.
But none of them worked.
He had tried adjusting the knob on the right side of the TV, to see if setting it to a corresponding position would interfere with the videotape. The result was that the device could only be used to adjust the volu and brightness.
He also tried directly attacking the TV screen, to see if breaking the glass would allow him to crawl inside, or if after smashing the TV he could leave the room... The result was that neither was possible. Furthermore, the TV that was smashed by Annan would return to its original state after a period of ti.
Annan had also attempted to attack the room’s door, windows, and walls.
But all sorts of energy attacks he used simply passed through, as if attacking an illusion—it was not an issue of how solid they were, but that he didn’t hit them at all. Annan’s attacks were completely ineffective.
Annan even tried to transform into Chariot Form.
With the Curse Binding’s blessing, the seven-tis larger giant of light should have been able to knock down the room... But if "all attacks automatically go through," Annan should have been able to pass through the room, too.
And in Chariot Form, Annan no longer relied on his eyes to see.
As long as any part of his body extended outside the room, he could use that part of his body to "see" everything outside. He might even be able to separate a part of his body and let it animate again to open the door from the outside.
—The result was still no good.
As Annan grew in size, he imdiately realized that he was shrinking again... or rather, the room itself was enlarging along with him.
And Annan beca distinctly aware—it wasn’t that his attacks "went through," but that they disappeared upon touching the walls. It looked as if they went through.
Not just the building.
But everything, including the TV, sofa, bed, and even those pieces of paper, grew in sync with Annan... and shrank back down when Annan returned to his original size.
Annan then tried transforming into a dragon and directly smashed into the walls with his body—but that didn’t work either.
There was not even a vibration or a roar; instead, Annan was directly bounced back.
Like an air wall.
He constantly attacked at all angles—from the ceiling to the floor, from windows to doors, from walls to furniture. He even tried to dig out a tunnel from the ground like a dog, but to no avail.
Even in failure, Annan didn’t give up. The Curse Binding of the "Heart of Sisyphus" would stack attributes in support of Annan after he acknowledged a failure.
...But no matter how bruised he got from the assault, he couldn’t weaken this dream-like prison that held him.
Anything destroyed by Annan would revert to its original state in the blink of an eye. The "walls" that kept Annan here could even be selective.
Annan finally beca keenly aware of the crux of the problem.
Because the prison itself was illusory.
It was not part of the nightmare, not an enemy Annan could defeat. It was like the "face customization space" in so gas, an illusion that existed only conceptually, invulnerable to being shattered or crushed.
That is to say...
Although there were doors, windows, ceilings, floors, and walls all around, all of these were false!
They were nothing more than "textures" on air walls!
Annan suddenly felt a wave of sorrow.
He was like a pet cat trapped in a glass box, unable to open it despite all his efforts... because the design of this "cat box" was ant to prevent the cat from opening it from the inside.
But he really had no way to escape.
He could only be imprisoned here.
Annan even started to pity himself—how was his situation any better than those people’s?
In Ofelia’s case, no one could understand her music, and in Annan’s, there was no one either; Ingrid was imprisoned in a coffin, and Annan’s prison was just slightly larger than her coffin.
Did Annan, who had fallen into this state, truly deserve to pity those people?
Even so, Annan did not succumb to despair.
He didn’t know how long it had been—perhaps a couple of weeks, or maybe a couple of months. After all, there was no sunrise or sunset outside the window, and Annan didn’t need to eat, sleep, or excrete. Each day felt longer than the last.
Annan flipped through those videotapes endlessly.
Every so often, new content synchronized and was added to the seven videotapes he had.
He kept revisiting the content on the tapes.
At the sa ti, he continuously gathered information, trying all possible places where decoding elents might exist. When idle, he would take advantage of the "no consumption" and "restorable" properties of the place to train his strength.
Annan casually tried various combinations of his abilities and kept getting familiar with his new powers acquired at the Gold stage.
The nightmare didn’t provide Annan with any books, but fortunately, he still had pen and paper to use.
He kept organizing his Transcendent knowledge, gradually building them into one ritual after another. He even reviewed every action he had taken during this ti in his mind, contemplating where there could be improvents.
Ti had gradually beco a conceptual thing.
Annan’s humanity, indeed, was being irreversibly purified into divinity in this illusory prison. The sharp edge of the light of Justice was gradually worn down, turning into an equal and indifferent light of compassion.
—But Annan never gave up.
Just as stated in a particular nightmare Annan had once experienced.
I am Sisyphus—
Anything that cannot kill will only make stronger.
And just as Annan had sworn to Denton, bound by the Curse Binding called "Heart of Sisyphus."
—He would never despair over failure.
Fortunately...
Ingrid couldn’t leave this nightmare either.
No need to worry about The Worm snatching away the Power of the Chariot.
So, it’s nothing more than a contest of patience and perseverance... Even if I can’t be released, it’s no big deal.
Just take it as an excessively long imprisonnt.
Annan took a deep breath at the desk and calmly closed his eyes.
He had confidence.
Before his humanity was extinguished, before his personality was worn away, Annan would never give up, let alone despair.
Once everyone leaves this nightmare, Ingrid’s tainted heart will surely no longer be able to bear the Power of the Chariot.
—But Annan is different.
"Has it been a month already? Or has it been several months?
"Since my imprisonnt doesn’t let Ingrid win directly... then all I need to do is wait."
Annan murmured softly to himself: "Could they imprison for ten thousand years?
"A re despair—"
Just at that mont.
From the TV behind him, which had always been playing as background music,
The sound that was supposed to be playing from the "Lava World" during the "no turning back" deadly ga in the replica world...
Suddenly ca an unfamiliar, bustling noise.
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