Chapter 9: Eye of the Beholder

"Are you a Soul Stealer?"

Peace could only let those words hang in the air for so long. Thankfully, he’d already figured out his solution... the truth.

"No..."

’Truth... is a subjective matter.’

’It is something each person decides for themselves.’

’In this world, this universe, there is no such thing as an objective truth — only common conclusions.’

’The very fact that a subjective mind created the notion of objectivity is proof of this fallacy.’

’Just because it is widely believed that two plus two equals four doesn’t mean it is everyone’s truth. If someone firmly believes that two plus two equals five, then that is their truth...’

’While it may seem dumb or illogical to stake this claim against something with a known solution, it is only dumb and illogical to those who know two plus two equals four.’

If an absolute truth was already iffy with quantitative data, then dealing with qualitative data merely added further possibility for deconstruction to any conceived notion.

Whatever truth emerged from the marketplace of ideas was anything but objective, no matter how grounded in facts it may seem.

So, then, applying that notion to something that judged truth...

What was it actually looking for?

It couldn’t determine the objective truth of a subjective variable. Therefore, it could only be looking for the subjective truth. In simpler words, if Peace believed something to be true, then it was true. His answers to the questions thus far had supported that theory.

Peace had spent a long time thinking about this in his cell...

’What is a Soul Stealer?’

Peace had decided to convince himself, or more accurately, delude himself, into believing that he wasn’t a Soul Stealer.

Only if he genuinely believed that truth would he be able to survive the question.

At first, the task had seemed impossible.

He’d woken up in this Night Elf’s body and stolen his life... even if it hadn’t been by choice, he had effectively killed the young man.

But, where was the proof...?

What if the Night Elf had been dead and he took over a corpse. Same for the monster.

Even in the case of Lacan, what if his monster body exuded some insta kill poison and it had somehow worked on the archer. It was a longshot, but a possibility nonetheless.

Furthermore...

’Souls themselves.’

He wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about the concept of the soul. All he knew was that souls were metaphysical existences said to house the very essence of a person...

’How is anyone supposed to understand and trust such an arbitrary definition? How can I steal something I don’t understand?’

That was the first major flaw in labeling him as a Soul Stealer.

Then he had thought of the executioners killing the Soul Stealers.

He had pictured their terrified, pleading faces; the faces of innocent people who’d done no wrong.

As far as Peace knew, those known as Soul Stealers hadn’t stolen anything. In fact, they were the ones being stolen from.

They’d had their own ’souls’ stolen and placed into foreign vessels. They’d been stolen from their lives and taken from whence they came. They’d been stolen from their loved ones and dropped into hell...

’And yet, they dare call innocent victims "Soul Stealers"?’

’Characters from a damned video game?’

Was he going to lie down and accept that label?

Peace had considered it through a modern lens.

’If someone were called a racial slur, why the hell would they accept whatever was said about them as the truth?’

Why would anyone allow someone else to degrade their status? To influence one’s subjective view of oneself through baseless hate?

Peace had reached his conclusion.

These people could call him a Soul Stealer all they wanted. But he knew he wasn’t the evil specter they made him out to be.

He was just a simple brother who loved his sister.

Peace couldn’t deny the fact that he was a bodysnatcher. He’d stolen two bodies now.

If she’d asked him whether he was one, he would have been in trouble; however, she had asked if he was a Soul Stealer.

And, at least for the moment, Peace wholeheartedly believed himself to be nothing more than a simple man dangling by a thread of naive hope. A man who deserved neither to be called a hero nor a villain, neither perpetrator nor victim.

Slowly, the crystal lit up in a light shade of green, as if it were a little unsure of its own answer.

Inspector Ashren stared at the crystal as the light faded back to blue, then petered out into a dull shade of gray.

Time had expired on the Eye of Truth.

"It seems you’re an innocent man with an unlucky appearance."

Peace couldn’t help but scoff.

"First uncanny, now unlucky... how ugly am I?"

Ashren couldn’t help but let out a laugh; she failed to stifle it.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean you were ugly... I’m saying your resemblance to the devils of the Night Parade... You didn’t get too lucky in the genetics department."

’They know about genetics here?’

Peace couldn’t help but wonder about the technology of this foreign realm and the strange link that seemed to exist between it and Earth. Maybe they had discovered genetics on their own... but Opichus? All the other districts named after the signs of the Zodiac?

He hadn’t thought about it much when it was a game, but now that it had become his reality, the question remained lodged in his mind.

Well, maybe Peace was going about it the wrong way.

He had been transported into the world of a game, after all...

He’d just been assuming everything around him was real because that’s what all five of his senses were screaming, but maybe he’d truly been transported into the game.

Maybe everyone and everything around him was nothing more than ones and zeroes. Maybe everything was fake, and these people were true NPCs. Maybe there were some inconsistencies because the game developer had slipped up.

’Maybe...’

For now, it would remain a ’maybe.’

In any case, whether this world was real or fake, it was his current reality.

Peace’s eyes slowly drifted toward the terrified guard in the corner of the room, who didn’t dare flip up his helmet’s visor. For some reason, the man seemed unable to even fathom that Peace was innocent.

Or rather, Peace didn’t have to commit any actual crime to be guilty in this man’s eyes.

It was as if his existence was a crime in and of itself.

"O-oh. Yeah..."

The man slowly shuffled over, then unlocked Peace’s shackles, freeing his wrists.

Ashren stood up, letting her long hair fall into her eyes. Then she picked up the Eye of Truth, walked away, and pried open the door.

She gave Peace a sidelong glance and said:

"Lorkel will escort you to the waiting area... we should have an ID made for you in about ten minutes... Don’t worry about commission; a royal decree five years ago got rid of that requirement."

Ashren walked away, leaving the two of them alone. At least, the guard was probably a man. His voice sounded masculine enough.

Peace just smiled as he slowly rose to his feet.

"After you, friend."

The guard was visibly shaking to the point where the plates of his armor clanked together.

"R-right!"