Chapter 88: Fate Convergence - XIII

[=[ Trigger Warning: A pinch of brutal imagery, descriptions and implications of torture, body horror. Skip Aventine’s vivid POV (this entire Chapter) at the first hint of discomfort. ]=]

—[ H̸͎̰͓̝̮̯̊̊̒̐̌̎̑̚e̶̡̝͖͙̜͕̗̼͛͛̾̎̆͘l̴̜̘̘̪̗͉̻͕̈́̈̓͗̉̽̆̚͝l̶̛̳̘͙̮͉͐̈́̅̈́͋̔̚͝ͅǫ̷̭̻̫̞̣̟͖͓̉̆̔͂͛͝,̷̢̛̛̺̺͈̜̲͉̀̾͛͋͘͘ ̶̛̠̍̇͆͊́̿͠m̴̛̻̘̥̹̽̀̈́̉̑̄̋̾̕y̴̡̮̙͒̃̈͋͆̽̈́ ̶̢̬̟̩̥̓̓͑͑̄̀̈d̴̛̬̩̭̙̥̗̆͆͠e̵̡̢͇̤̣̻̱͂̎̔͗̂͛̚͘͜a̵̮̿͂̓̇̈́́̈́͝r̵̢̺̻͇͔͉̟̻̓̎͆̍̕̚͝,̶̟̜̹͓̒̈́̔̒̓͑̄̕ ̶̡̛̻͌̈́̋̃̇͐̕͝d̶̨͇͚͙͕̩͇͚̩̠̈͑̓a̶͎͓̒̽̕r̷̩̻̫̦͆l̵̜͕̖͕̝̟̏̆̀i̶̡̦̣̻̼̳̻̤͔̾̀̉͗ņ̴͓͖̞̟̥̖̯̯͆̕͜ģ̷̨̛̪̗̹̳̟̮̊͛̅̅̓̈́͝͝ ̵̢̡̹̱̻̱̭̬͗̇͜s̵̛̺͓̊͑̌͂ȏ̴̼̩͍͎̹̲̒̿̇͗͆͊̈́͗̍n̸̨̳͓̤͓͇̙̭͍͉̍́̏̊͗̇̀͒̓̀.̷̞͚̦̖̖͔̭̒͜ ]

I heard what garbled words were being whispered into Taylor’s ears just then.

—[ Õ̶̧̤̼̤̥̤̓̏̾̓͊̇͆͆͝h̶̜̲̣͂́͋̋͒̆,̸̟̮̰̱̌̓́ ̶̨̘̳͉͋͊́͜m̵̟̺̞͔͑̉̇̀̑͝y̷̢̧̰̠̪̚ ̴̣̦̪̯̱̿͗̀s̵̢̗̟̫̱̞̹͐͌̓̚͠͝ͅw̴̞̐̒͑̐͝e̵͖̕e̵̩͉̲͈͌̉̒̀͂̉͐͝͝ͅt̸̘̤͈̪̘̫̪̼̔̈͒͂,̸̬̼̎ͅ ̵̖̤̜͈̺̦̙͉̘̏̎̔́̉͝͠b̷̦̟͈̰͍̳͗̅̒̒̾̋́͠͠ę̷̢̗̇̀̌̽̊͛͂̓͑̄a̷̱̭̫̦̺̳̭̬͑͜u̵͎̺̗̦̍̇͆t̴̝̣̜̳͖̠̦̎͗̉͋͝i̴̹͎͈͓̞̰̊̈́͋̊͆́̎͒͘f̷̧̳̫̽̊̒̚͜u̵̘̘̺̹͙̥͕̾l̶̳͚͔͇͙̪̄ ̶͙͇̖̄͑̐͗́̈́̉̓̚͝d̶̢̧̲̫͉̳͓͕͙͙̿͋̀̈́̎̔͘͘a̶̘̞͖̯͓̟͓͊u̸̢̧̡͖̼̳͖͖̻̙͐́͑̇̽͑͘g̷̰̣̫̜̤̞̟͌̅̽̋͒͠h̸̛̳̣͔̞̗͑͐̑̒̈́͝ͅͅt̵̖̝̤̙̫͉̥͉̒̎͆͒̇͜ȩ̷̢̲͈̞͖̗̝͐r̶̨̟͖͚̹͎̪͙̱̊̈́͗͜.̶̥͕͍̮̠̺͓̪̘͍̆̒̊̆͆̅͗ ]

As well as what Clementine heard at the same time.

...For me, though, it was a little weird.

—[ 𝕄𝕆ℕℝ! 𝕄𝕌ℝ𝔻𝔼ℝ𝔼ℝ. . . 𝔻𝕆ℕ’𝕋 𝔻𝔸ℝ𝔼 ℙ 𝔸ℕ𝕐 ℂℝ. ]

They were filled with a lunatic clarity, filled with abhorrence higher than the heavens themselves.

Why... did they dislike me so much?

What had I done?

—[.. ... ... ... . ]

Yet another voice had joined the chorus of rascals in my mind. For half a moment, I prayed that the shiny item I wanted wasn’t bundled with this accursed voice.

It was worse than the eternal souls in <Soul Permanence> and the profanity of the <Wyrm With No Name>.

This one rang with so much hateful hysteria that I found myself in a genuine grimace.

Still, a part of me was curious:

What led to this?

Bathed in the beautiful light of this altar room, I hid Clementine and Taylor in a veil of shadows and assumed the invisibility granted by the <Power of Death>.

The stones that Clementine had shattered fell silently. After three seconds of free fall, they crushed a large group of kneeling Treasure Gnomes.

With a gust of wind, hidden within the chaotic dust cloud from the shattered ceiling, I moved us a few meters away from the hole.

Above us, the procession of Treasure Gnomes encountered the opening and peered down.

Their previously devout expressions were dyed with an even deeper piety.

Taylor and Clementine followed my gaze with difficulty. With the <Power of Death> blanketing us, the garbled whispers they unfortunately encountered could no longer target them.

Taking a look at their tainted souls, I could already guess what was going on with this torturous ritual.

There was no death.

No bloody sacrifice.

Instead, a pillar of tortured humans, bound to each other limb by limb, connected the floor to the ceiling.

[Absolute Awareness] blanketed their weakened bodies. My fragile mortal mind... nearly collapsed.

"Ugh..."

What saved me were the semi-conscious red blood cells flowing through me. Imbued by <Mind Force>, it seemed like their tolerance for graphic imagery was... inhuman.

It made sense.

They were... cells.

The things they ’saw’ and ’experienced’ were very different from what I did. When they weren’t helping me think, they were doing their best to transport oxygen throughout my body while slowly learning how to manipulate mana by themselves.

In fact, some of them had understood mana well enough to create small electric charges to activate different nerves. Their prowess was the result of my Martial Art, <Pure Instinct>.

Thus, I was able to look beyond their skinless appearance, past their carved bones, and through every seared layer of flesh they wore over veins flowing with acid.

Such inhumane torture had plunged these souls into a nigh-immaculate terror that wiped their minds clean.

If pain was all that they felt, nothing hurt anymore.

In other words, their minds were so completely filled with unending agony that their souls could only experience a blank, white room.

No longer did they have any happiness as a point of reference for how cruel their lives were.

It was horrifying beyond human comprehension.

’No wonder the others above this altar room were still so scared...’

The deeper one went into this <War Dungeon>, the thicker the fetor of fear that assaulted Clementine’s nose.

Of course, I could perceive that same hormonal scent, but my senses naturally pierced into the cold dread that they all felt in their hearts.

Furthermore, <Fate> hadn’t encompassed their minds, allowing me to experience the traumatic life they had lived through recently.

None of them would ever live a normal life again.

...At least, I wouldn’t want to continue living. In fact, my mind had given up when it experienced the feeling of having all my internal organs pulled out and rearranged by magic.

Right now, my blood was in charge of thinking.

...Repairing my mortal human mind would come later.

Continuing our analysis, well... we kind of understood why all of these experiences were suddenly accessible.

In the interest of saving mana, we opted not to look into the existence of <Fate>. After all, the mere inaccessibility of random and varied facts and realities already implied the wall that was <Fate’s> quagmire of threads.

Merely the fragmented pieces of history and memories we could analyze with [Absolute Awareness] were enough proof that <Fate’s> threads were incapable of totally eclipsing every single individual here.

—And this altar room should be a locus of all the local threads. Logic dictated it would be, and so did the structure of the <War Dungeon>.

The greater the fear, the denser the threads.

Moving through space allowed us to dive deeper into the facts hidden by every layer of <Fate>.

Perhaps by touching the central pillar, the truth of this Ritual of Blasphemy could reveal itself to me.

However, our main consciousness had quite literally crumbled from glimpsing the experiences of the surrounding tortured souls.

As the blood of a human, we were resilient, but we also had certain limits. As numerous yet minuscule individuals, the upper limit of what we could withstand was similarly small. Our only advantage was the fact that our understanding of the world differed greatly from the main consciousness.

Whatever those unfortunate humans experienced was wholly irrelevant to us.

We were cells.

Getting skinned alive? What was that? We did not have any bones to carve, nor did we have any flesh to sear. We did not have any nerves to overload with stimuli.

The worst experience, perhaps, would be the flooding of acid through their veins and arteries... but if that happened to us, all it would do would be to cause us to break down, rupturing as we spilled out our ’guts.’

Was that scary?

Of course not!

It happened to us all the time. Why would it be scary?

As such, our goal for now was to collect information, snag whatever that mummified arm was, and leave.

<Fate> wanted us here. Specifically, it wanted ’me’ to help Taylor and Clementine within the abilities displayed by the Info-Hunter, Aventine.

The shattering of our main consciousness was merely due to his own negligence.

...A lesson we would surely convey to him when he recovered.