「Congratulations! You have landed on Nightmare. 」
<<
<<
Ernest holds his breath.
___________________
Missions category: Nightmare
Objective: Uncover the name and history of this village and eliminate six skinwalkers
Skinwalker count: 0/6
||Reward hidden||
____________________
"Discovering the name and history of a village is already a grueling task. And in a place like Purgatos, it would naturally take days, maybe weeks."
His fingers find his chin.
"Furthermore, I have no information on the creatures named skinwalkers."
'It's been mention once or twice in grimm fables, but never detailedly explained, only that they were the faces of humans, which leads to the question of how are we to distinguish them from actual humans?'
Ernest rips his fingers through the strands of his hair.
'Gosh, hell is really brutal indeed. There's little to no information on them at all."
「Your time limit is five hours. To aid you in this challenge, you will be granted temporary personas.」
"Five hours!"
He blurts out just before the other statement catches his attention.
'It wants us to do that in just five measly hours?'
<<
「Affirmative. Now onto a more exhilarating subject, magic.」
Above his palms, a small vial condensed, filling with a viscous red liquid. He studied it in silence, thick, heavy, and unmistakably bloodlike.
「Drink.」
"Pardon?"
He inquires, and the letters pulse once more.
"Noted. Drink."
He repeats, understanding what he must do without question. Cranking his head back, he balls his fears into a fist, flips off the cork, and gulps down the liquid.
'Yep... definitely blood.'
He gags.
「To wear a face is to surrender your former self. A sacrifice for a new beginning with meaning. Defy that balance and you'll lose yourself.」
Ernest waits a moment, letting the words simmer. A pressure blooms behind his eyes as white-hot pain tears through his brain. He stumbles backward, grasping for the bed, breathless; his legs give way, and he collapses to the floor. His head throbs as though it's about to split open.
'Bloody—'
His vision burns.
'What's happening!'
Each blink feels like staring straight into the sun. He gasps for air, his throat pulsing as if it has grown a heart of its own. Veins snake across his skin, blooming red as they crawl upward toward her eyes, staining the whites a deep, violent crimson.
「From you, Ernest Au Cladmir, I strip the right to perceive the physical existences of faces, whether remembered or before you now.」
"What... What are you doing to me!"
He screeches.
「You will undergo demonization. A rebirth, whether you welcome it or not. 」
"A... A Demon?"
In a single heartbeat, memory erupts. Demon. The word drags back the thing they summoned. Its laughter echoed as blue flames consumed his sister, slowly and agonizingly. That laughter still quakes in the deepest part of his soul.
"I can't... I will not..."
He groans, grasping onto the bed to pull himself up as the pain simmers to a boil.
「Yes you will. It isn't for you to will, but the covenant. You wish for power. You wish for strength. You wish for truth. Then bear your consequences. Bear the terms of hell. Your human body shall only bring limitations. 」
He holds onto the edge of the windowsill as he straightens.
「Not all demons are set to become catalysts for evil.」
"Even so... I'll become the creature that took my sister."
「It is your sister who brought that predicament onto herself. 」
'It's right.'
His body sags.
'It's our fault. Not theirs.'
He takes a few steadying breaths, forcing his thoughts into order. Then he lifts his head to the window. His reflection begins to melt. Flesh blurs and slides, features dissolving until nothing remains: no eyes, no mouth, no face staring back.
He raises a hand to his own skin. He can still feel them.
"Everything's there. It wasn't a lie. I can't recall any of my sister's features as well."
Still, the better half of him still tries anyway.
'Hair, no, that's wrong. Eyes—'
His thoughts slide off the memory like water on glass with each attempt of recollection. There is a shape where her face should be, a presence without detail, and the harder he reaches for it, the more hollow it becomes.
His chest tightens; it feels like he has already lost a part of himself.
<<
He flinches as the panel appears.
'Stop it, Ernest; it's only temporary. Focus.'
__________
「-Persona (Uncommon)-」
◦ Your persona: The historian
◦ Persona type: Support
◇ Resonance level: 25」
◦Magical artifact: Glasses of discernment
—Explanation—
The user can perceive what is not obvious or what is veiled.
◇ Eminence level: 25」
◇ Eminence 25 + Resonance 25 = Power level: 50
☆☆
__________
Ernest's eyes widen as his glasses shimmer a gentle gold.
「Good luck, sinner. Guidebooks will be distributed shortly, but be warned. If you fail in this trial, your journey will promptly end, and your soul will become no more.」
Ernest gazes at the panel intently until it disappears, and for a split second in the corner of his eyes, he sees a blackened figure that resembles his sister, standing eerily still before vanishing.
"I…"
He stumbles back, inhaling a shaky breath.
"I can't fail this."
His head shakes vigorously.
"I'm going to finish this trail and fulfill your wish."
Sweat trickles down his face as his breathing picks up.
"I have to! I don't have a choice!"
'I can't waste any time.'
His eyes land on the ticking timer in the right corner of his vision.
「5:59:39」
'Calm down, Ernest, you haven't lost the trial. Nightmares shouldn't be too hard.'
"Right now, I should focus on finding the others."
Wiping the sweat, he adjusts his glasses, then scans the area around him.
"With these glasses alone, I can't possibly take down six skinwalkers."
'I wonder how these glasses work—'
Before he can comprehend it, the white of his eyes morphs to red as it activates.
「⦾Nearest player: three rooms west⦾」
"Great."
Hurriedly advancing to the door, he spots a pair of old boots, which he slips on. With a ghostly shrill, the door opens, and the atrocious aroma envelops him.
'Bloody hell, it's worse out here than inside.'
He thinks, hands finding themselves over his nose.
Turning left, he follows the direction the panel gave. Every step of his boots against the withering wooden floors feels like a disaster waiting to happen, but he doesn't stop.
'1…'
'2…'
'3…'
Passing the third room in the barely lit hall, its cream walls eroded with black mold creeping down from the ceiling, almost reaching the wall candle. Reaching the last room, its dark oak door looming a few inches above him.
"This might be a bad idea."
He recognizes with a whisper.
'This is hell; I'm on a quest to create god killers. I have no clue what they're capable of.'
With trembling hands, he reluctantly twists the knob and opens the door.
Walking in confused, he looks around and sees one.
"Nobody?"
His muscles relax.
"I guess the panel lied?"
"It didn't."
A raspy voice follows after the shrill of the door; something sharp presses against his neck.
'Shit!'
Ernest's body tenses.
'I should have looked behind the door before making assumptions.'
Panic sets in.
"Name?"
The voice is so hoarse it's almost inaudible.
"Ernest! The historian!"
He shouts, flaring his hands up. In a moment of realization, his fingers instinctively tighten around the shard of glass he tucked away, a spark of quick thinking flickering in his mind even as he speaks in desperation.
"I'm just a basic historian; I'm not dangerous, I promise!"
He rambles, hoping to diffuse the threat.
"Innocent."
He states coldly, letting go of him.
"Nobody's innocent."
Spinning around.
"Carnage."
「Persona: The Keybearer」
「Power level: 50」
"The keybearer." He finishes.
Nextchapter-THE WORTH OF THE FALLEN