Step... step... step…
Ashen walked slowly toward the nearest officer's tent to report the death of his last friend in this place.
The only mercy was that Paul came from the Sloth Pathway. Their early lapses into madness were harmless. They simply sank into lethargy and rotted away. That meant he didn't have to kill him twice.
But being from the Sloth Pathway was precisely what killed him, so Ashen's brief flicker of gratitude died before it could even form.
"Halt—state your business, soldier." The same officer from earlier was here, unexpectedly.
With the Iron Oath salute, Ashen said, "Scout Ashen, reporting fellow soldier Paul Hargraves's death by loss of control, sir."
He didn't care who heard it. He just wanted it over and done with, to leave, because every second was a relentless reminder that Paul was gone. His friend was gone.
There was a brief silence before the officer asked, "Paul Hargraves? Sloth pathway?"
"Yes, sir."
"Noted. You can leave."
Ashen didn't waste time. He turned on his heels and walked away.
'...Hey, old man, how did you deal with loss back then?'
As he aimlessly walked around the camp, he abruptly asked the question mentally, knowing that his other self would surely hear it.
{...I simply bore the sadness, the grief, and the despair and carried on. There is no shortcut.}
'Is it really that simple? Then why am I feeling so dead inside? Am I supposed to carry this all my life?'
{...That is the weight of life.}
'Sometimes I wish I were as strong as you… sometimes I really wonder if we are the same people.'
{The only difference between us is experience. We are fundamentally the same; you just have to stop belittling yourself.}
Ashen actually let out a quiet snort at that. 'If even you have to resort to lying to cheer me up, then I'm afraid I'm in a pretty fucked up state.'
{I'm not lying.}
There was a pause.
{...Do you think a weak man would have made it farther than you? Recall how much hardship you went through these past months, how much the loss of your friends weighed on you. Even the strongest of men will crumble in the face of that. Paul is proof enough.}
{...But did you?}
Ashen shook his head, still not convinced. 'So what? It could be just that my time is coming a little later. There is no proof that I will be able to keep this up.'
{...Haha, it looks like you really don't get it, even after all this.} His twin soul laughed, but frustration seeped through.
{Remember how I asked you to deal with your own problems yourself? How I refused to help? Do you think I did that because I thought you were some sort of genius or had some hidden talent…?}
{No. I don't give a fuck about any of that. Talent and genius can be snatched—you've already experienced that. Besides, there were countless more talented than us, but they still ended up dead, whereas I prevailed. Do you know why?}
'Why…?' Ashen asked, holding his breath.
{...Because we had an infinite amount of something… Something that will always come up short for everybody else, but not for us... It is willpower.}
Ashen halted. His thoughts stilled completely.
{We are just built that way. No one is more tenacious than we are. Everyone gives up, but not us. And every trial, every challenge, leaves us stronger. It's like the more pressure we are under, the more something irritates us, the more explosive we evolve to be.}
The old Ashen's voice became fainter by the end, as if he was recalling the very challenges he went through as he spoke.
{You have the same predisposition as me, since we are one and the same in the end. You just don't realize it yet.}
'If what you're saying is true, then I would have never succumbed to sloth, wronged my dearest people, and ended up as the worst trash in society.'
{Heh.}
A derisive laugh echoed through the mental link, followed by momentary silence, as if Old Ashen was weighing what to say.
{Ashen, listen to me carefully. I will only say this once: Our mere presence is a threat to some entities.}
{...And even though those entities are unable to directly act, they'd still try whatever indirect methods they could use.}
Ashen's heart skipped a beat. "Y-you mean…"
{Obviously! Since birth, the whole fucking deck was stacked in our favor. Looks, ability, talent, a loving family, a loyal woman… And then what? We threw all of that away because… things got boring? Do you even believe that?}
{Is that even logical?}
{Even the laziest man on earth wouldn't do that!}
"Fuck." Ashen clenched his fists and bit his lip hard enough to taste iron. "We were manipulated."
Old Ashen's voice echoed with grim satisfaction. {Finally, you get it.}
'...And if they did it once, they could do it again.'
{Of course! They tried to bury you in sloth, but now that you're awake, that tactic's obsolete. Next, they'll try to shatter you with despair. You won't break—I didn't—but you don't have to play their game.}
Tss—
As the old twin soul continued, the air grew unnaturally heavy, as if reality itself was sinking under invisible weight. As if his words were blasphemy—and merely uttering them twisted the fabric of order.
{Protect our loved ones. Never let them become tools for others to hurt us. That's the most important—}
'But if something happens to our family, Alice, or Seraphine… I don't think I'll be able to keep going.' Ashen shook his head bitterly.
{You will. You'll go harder—so hard that you'll lay waste to whoever dared to touch them. More pressure, more power, remember? How do you think I made all those #### fall to my spear eventually?}
Tzzt—
What? Ashen frowned. He hadn't caught the last words clearly.
{Kuh—ke-kekeke… someone's getting anxious, I see.}
'Are you alright?' Ashen asked, concern rising—
But a sudden noise tore through his thoughts.
DING—DING—DING.
"NARKALS!!"
"UP! UP!! UP!!!"
"TO THE FRONT—ASSEMBLE THE LINES!!"
Ashen inhaled deeply, steadied himself, and joined the fray, his focus still tethered to the weakening voice in his mind.
{...It doesn't matter. Just keep listening, and don't interrupt.} The voice was strained now, each word clearly costing him.
{Your most precious thing in the battles to come isn't your lost genius, nor any skill or trait. It's not even the power you'll gain as you climb the Steps. It's your will.}
"ATTACK!!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
{Ugh… You have to understand this. Believe it. Just look at you. Your mind is almost frayed by torturous training. Every man who came to the battlefield with you is already dead. Your friends died one by one. Even the one you swore to protect fell—not to monsters, but to despair. Yet you're still here. You still raise your spear and fight.}
WHSSHT!
SHNK!
The spear tore through a monster's throat. Hot blood splattered across Ashen's face as he wrenched the shaft free and spun around.
Another creature lunged from the smoke—
CLANG!
Its claws met the reinforced haft, sparks scattering like dying stars.
{It must feel like hell inside, doesn't it? Even your chance to leave this nightmare was denied. Now you face beasts that only know how to gnaw at your flesh. But you keep moving... Isn't that proof enough? Isn't it time you believed in yourself?}
KRSH!
He stepped in, thrust low, and tore upward, splitting bone and sinew. The Narkal collapsed, shrieking, its body twitching against the dirt.
THUD.
The spear's butt struck the ground as Ashen steadied his stance, eyes locked on the next shape crawling from the haze.
'You're right. It is.'
As if hearing his silent resolve, the world seemed to shift around him, almost approvingly.
{Khhk—heh… good. Then the next step becomes easier. When hardship comes again, don't see it as suffering. Don't avoid it. Don't run. Use it. Let it sharpen your will. Don't fear the fall—you won't break. For others, a tragedy is a tragedy, but for you, a tragedy is an opportunity.}
Even as more Narkals hurled themselves at him, Ashen still found the breath to ask, 'Why are you helping me now? You were against it before, and now—you're clearly in pain the more you talk—yet you still do it. Why?'
{You weren't ready then, now, you barely are… But it's enough.}
'...What's the difference between then and now anyway…?'
{Well, let's say, you can consider yourself a man now, haha.}
'...And I wasn't before?' Ashen felt a vein throb even amid Nakrals' assaults.
{...A man without suffering is no man in my eyes. So be proud, for the pain you carry means you've finally stopped running and started facing life head-on.}
{…you were so buried under your own disappointment that, somewhere along the way, you stopped believing in yourself.}
Ashen said nothing to that. He could easily picture himself brushing off anyone who dared say he should torture himself for power, because he could handle it. His past self would have rejected the notion entirely.
{And besides… things aren't as simple as they look. Those who wield conceptual powers tied to destiny can feel when their fates shift. The moment you started realizing your own worth, it threatened their end. Someone's shielding us from their gaze, but I'm taking the backlash for it.}
'Then stop.'
{...Nah. It's worth it.}
'I could've realized this on my own later. There's no need to suffer for it.'
{You'd have been too late if I had waited. And I didn't come back just to watch the same ending. It's my duty, so don't stop me.}
{Remember this—you were never trash. So quit dragging yourself through the mud. Now go. Show them what kind of man they've provoked. They won't even see it coming. Kh–Grrr… Heh–Heheheh…}
Ashen moved like a storm through the horde, his spear cutting arcs of death, the Narkals falling like stalks of wheat before a reaper's scythe. His twin's laughter echoed faintly in his mind; distorted, then slipping into silence.
—But not before leaving a last line.
{...This time… keep them alive. You'll do better than me. Surely…}
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