Time around me seemed to slow, my limbs felt like I was wading through mosses, yet my heart began to race, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I could hear it thumping in my ears, and my gut churned and twisted. Fear, rage, and nausea were all I could feel. I was too far; out of reach. There was no way I could reach him, save him. Father hung in the air, his limbs outstretched in either direction, twisted and broken as Aunt Saria used some kind of magic to force them apart.

  Her face was twisted into a sickening, psychotic smile. She was an entirely different person. Or really, not a person at all. She was a monster, a hideous fiend taking pleasure in harming my father. With every cry of pain and snap of a bone, her smile broadened even wider.

  “I said stop!” Varis screamed once more and thrust his hand out. The boy was only a few paces ahead of me, far away from Saria or my father by at least a hundred feet. Yet, he wasn’t reaching out to grab them as I had expected. Instead, the space a few inches from his palm began to condense, then spark, and in a fsh, a bolt of smouldering fire shot forth toward Saria. “Spark!” He shouted.

  The fire bolt streaked down the hall toward Saria, whose smile faded. A perplexed look crossed her features, and she nonchantly tilted her head to the side, dodging the fire a second before it hit her, causing it to dissipate further down the hall into harmless sparks.

  Varis wasted no time hurling a second bolt toward her as he rushed forward. He thrust his other arm out, casting a third behind the second. Again, Saria tilted her head to the opposite side, dodging the second, then twisted her torso and leaned back as the third zipped past, not a second ter. Her perplexed expression twisted back into a wide-brimmed smile.

  “Varis, Luna!” Father squealed. “St-stop–aah! Run!” He screamed.

  “You should listen to him, Children,” Saria said with a purr and held a hand toward Varis.

  My brother twisted his feet, pnted them into the floorboards, and slid to a stop beneath Father. His eyes were wide with fear, and he watched as Saria focused her attention on him.

  Act now! You need to act! My goblins screamed. Do something, you idiot, you can’t just stand there! Do something!

  I don’t know what came over me. Was I swapping pces with Truth? Or did the Master wake up? My body felt like it was moving on its own, and the world almost blurred as my hand reached for my sheath containing my wand. My feet left the ground, and I found myself unched towards my brother.

  A torrent of ethereal energy akin to a lightning bolt arced forth from Saria’s hand towards Varis. Just as he shrieked and shielded his face, I found myself between him and the lightning bolt. I thrust my ruby-tipped wand out towards the lightning, and without thinking, I shouted, “Bubble!”

  My ears ruptured in my skull, and the world around us exploded as lightning struck my shield. The bolt let off a thunder crack as lightning arcs coiled around my shield, licking and burning the walls. The force of the blow sent me skidding backwards into Varis, who caught me. Around us, swirls of blue whisps danced, dipping in and out of the smoke and debris.

  “Luna!” My father choked just above us. “Th-they’re too stro–” He cut off mid-speech and screamed as another bone snapped.

  “Stop it!” I screamed at Saria, who merely continued smiling at the edge of the hall. Around her, I could see glowing, white whisps by the dozens swirling around the base of her feet, and I nervously gritted my teeth. “Let him go, please!”

  Saria’s smile faltered slightly, and she focused on me. “And why would I do that?” she asked, not out of sarcasm or in a toying manner, but with genuine curiosity, it seemed. “Is this not what you want and crave?” With her other hand, she twisted her wrist, and I saw Father’s right ankle twist like a screw, causing him to release a shrill cry of agony.

  My stomach churned, and my heart fred with rage. “You’re hurting him! Stop, Saria, it’s us! You’re hurting your family!” I gripped my wand tightly. My mind was racing as I tried to think of what to do. How could I stop her? How could I save Father? I was right beneath him, but her ether coiled around him like a noose as he hung suspended above. If I tried anything, would she kill him outright?

  “Hurting him?” Saria said musingly, her red lips pulled into a fine line. “I’m merely showing him what he craves, what you all seem to want. What I’m doing here is an intervention, one in which you’ll be participating in next.”

  What the fuck is she talking about? I thought.

  She’s gone mad; you need to do something. A more rational goblin stated.

  Punch her in the face. Right now. A deep-rooted anger snarled.

  I could barely focus; my mind felt like a crowded room where everyone was talking at once. My gut told me to attack, yet my conscience said I should listen to my father and get out of here. Then there was the stupid part of me that wanted to hear her more, not because I agreed with her, but because she intrigued me.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “Saria, we’re your family, what are you trying to intervene with? What’s wrong?”

  Saria snorted. “I’m trying to intervene with you, Anomaly.” Her eyes narrowed, and my gut sank.

  No. You’re fucking kidding me…

  Her eyes were like pinpricks boring into me as her smile returned, wide and toothy. Like a shark about to devour its prey. “You thought you’d beaten me earlier, Shaed? That a simple containment pattern could hold me?”

  “Luna? What is she talking about?” Varis trembled.

  “Papa’s right,” I said softly, my heart sinking. “That isn’t Aunt Saria.” Yet as my heart sank, rage began to boil.

  Yes. Let’s do this! It’s not her anymore, so let's go apeshit! My goblins urged.

  The storm of ether within me began to surge. I needed to channel the same power within me that I’d felt at the prison—the life-or-death energy that allowed me to push through. If I could tap this power, I could fight her like I did the mage in the control room, and I could save Father and Varis.

  “What’s this?” Saria, no, Archbishop Putinov said. “Is Shaed not in there?” They frowned. “I swore I could sense his taint lingering on it, except… No, tsk… I see now, he sent his echo, again.”

  I snarled. “Shut up, and give me back my aunt!”

  Putinov snorted. “Do you think it’s that easy?” They asked. “That I can just give her back to you?” They shook their head. “Besides, little echo, ask yourself, would she even want to come back?”

  “Lu-Luna, please,” My father said through tears of pain, and I gnced at him. “Ru-run…” He gasped as a final crunch resounded from his back, and Putinov flicked their wrist, and I watched as his broken body crumpled to the floor.

  Varis let off a choked sob and scrambled toward him, and I remained stilled. My eyes were glued to his body sprawled on the floor like a discarded toy. Whisps of blue and white light swirled around us, a few dancing along his battered form. He wasn’t moving, I could barely tell if he was breathing, all I could think about was how he’d just died, killed off so effortlessly, so pathetically.

  And I did nothing. I was doing nothing.

  What could you have done? Charged them?

  Cast a spell?

  Punch them in the face?

  Would it have mattered? What was the chance that I could’ve done something meaningful? Putinov was right. Shaed wasn’t here, and the new guy, Venra, was off searching for how to help Mother. I was alone. Isa was either dead or injured like Father. I had no one to help me here except Varis.

  Don’t give up now!

  We’re so fucked up.

  There has to be something!

  I’ve always been a fuck up. Everything I touched. I had the opposite of King Midas’s Touch; instead of gold, everything became shit. My old life, this new life. I never could do anything right. Even with my new powers, I couldn’t do anything. Even with Shaed’s help and the boon he gave me when we first met, my spells were pathetic. How could I stop Putinov? They picked up Father with their mind and shattered the man, and shot lightning like a Sith Lord.

  Easy. A part of me thought. Kick their ass.

  If only that were true. Yet, the part of me that came up with that stirred and shifted.

  I’m not kidding. Something inside snarled. Let me back out, and I’ll kick their ass. I’ve helped you once; let me do it again.

  What the hell was this feeling? It was sinister and unnerving. Yet, familiar. Very familiar.

  The part of you that years of therapy tucked away. But now, you need me. You won’t need me to take complete control, but why not crack open that door a bit? And take a look at all this sweet, sweet fury you’ve packed away inside here. Get a taste of it, and let it make you go absolutely batshit on her.

  Putinov sighed and lowered their arms to their side. Their eyes locked on mine, and they smiled. “Now that is a look I haven’t seen in ages,” they cooed, gesturing with their arms wide as if presenting. “You truly haven’t changed much, have you? Hasn’t anything I’ve shown you, beaten into you, not sunk in yet? Don’t you feel it right now? That agony, grief, sorrow, anger… It’s poison in your blood. Foul and disgusting, yet you crave it, you allow it in your lives. Time and time again I’ve shown you this–”

  I opened the door and allowed the fury to consume me. The pain of my death, the sight of Oren burning under a rain of Veilinrite missiles, my regret at leaving Peter to die in Kassel, all those people I watched be sughtered, and, of all else, my incompetence. I let it all pour into me, soaking every aspect of my being. A tidal wave of utter misery and rage, I allowed the darkness to absorb into me.

  The ether storm in my core hesitated. Like a doe caught in the headlights of a speeding car, the power within me stopped before this roiling wave of negativity that soon overcame it. The power screamed, and with it, so did I. The darkness tore away at it, breaking it down, not destroying it, but reshaping it. It burned and cried, howling like a dog with its paw in a trap.

  I dropped to my knees and screamed. It pulsed and throbbed, my vision blurred, yet through my weakened eyesight, I saw it. Tendrils of swirling darkness rose from my skin like evaporating steam. Bck as ink, it peeled off my skin and drifted upwards; others coiled around me, and I could feel them. Truly feel them, like my mother's embrace, they hugged me. It was as if, through this overwhelming grief, this power sought comfort in me.

  Tears streamed down my cheek, and I clutched at my heart. My eyes drifted to my Father’s body, broken and unmoving. Varis was draped over him, hugging his form and sobbing. This was more fuel, energy that would kick-start the generator built within my core. The power of the Well was no longer that; it was now a pump. A constant, steady stream that fed into me, fueled entirely by how I truly felt.

  I was nothing. I was a failure. I had failed in my previous life, and I was now failing this one. But even then, I would at least try to fail with dignity. Instead of giving up, I’ll use my misery as my motivation. Clenching my hands into fists, I punched the floor, pushed myself to my feet, and gred at Putinov.

  “--That is why what you call life isn’t worth living,” They said, continuing their monologue. “This pain you feel, it’s torture, isn’t it? You’ve created a system of perpetual pain, don’t you see? When someone ‘dies’, they aren’t truly gone. Death is a concept you mortals invented–”

  I stopped listening and finally acted. I didn’t think about what I was going to do or how I was going to do it. I just simply did. My body felt like it was moving on its own. Not as if I was being puppetted by another force. No, I was still here. I was still in control. Yet, I was on autopilot, as if I had done this thousands of times before. It was instinct.

  At the moment, I had no time to think about it. I had no time to question how I was doing what I was doing. Instead, the only thing on my mind was this.

  I’m going to kill this son of a bitch so hard, they’re going to wish that they’d stay dead.

  Not the most satisfying line, but when you’re so coked up on blood-fueled rage, making up badass quotes isn’t usually something you’d focus on. Instead, it’s best you focus on absolutely beating the ever-loving shit out of the one who wronged you.

  I didn’t even call upon the power. At least, I think I didn’t. I stepped forward, and in the blink of an eye, I had dashed the fifty feet and was right in front of Putinov’s face. The world seemed to slow as I cranked my fist back, readying myself for a punch. Not a spell, or anything else, a simple, old punch.

  Or at least, I thought it was.

  Putinov’s eyes widened in surprise for the briefest moments, the second I appeared before them. Then, their eyes rolled into their skull as my small fist collided with their face. The flesh and bone of their jaw caved in around my hand as shards of teeth and spittle sprayed from their mouth.

  Putinov recoiled as their feet left the ground, spiraling back into the smouldering bedroom. When their body struck the floor, the boards cracked beneath the impact, and they bounced, rolled, and smmed into the far wall.

  For a brief moment, I came to. I blinked with surprise, looked at my hand, and noticed the swirling mist of dark energy coiling around it like a snake. I felt no pain or stress from the power exerted and smiled.

  “The ultimate spell of all,” I said, smirking. “Fist.” I stared at Putinov as they spat broken teeth and blood onto the floor.

  Yet when they looked at me, my smirk faltered. My Aunt Saria was staring at me with pure, unadulterated fear, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Lu-Luna, why di-did you…” She said, choking on blood.

  “Stop it!” I screamed. “Let her go!” The fury exploded again, darkness coiled around me, and I entered the room. In what felt like two strides, I was in Putinov’s face again, readying myself for another blow–I hesitated.

  My aunt cowered before me, sobbing uncontrolbly. “Luna, please!” She said, clutching her medallion with one hand and cupping her busted jaw and swelling cheek. “Please, I’m sorry!”

  The fury softened, and I blinked and lowered my hand slightly. “Aunt Saria?” I asked

  She sniffled and nodded and looked up at me, her face caked with tears and blood that ran from her nose and lips. And she smiled wickedly.

  “Fool!” Putinov said swiftly, and a bolt of lightning struck me in the chest.

  My body seized, my muscles contracted painfully, I spasmed and tried to shriek, but couldn’t. A force then struck me hard in my center, my feet lifted off the ground, and I was hurled across the room back towards the door. My body smmed into the hard floor back-first. I bounced, heels going over head, and I rolled to a stop at the busted frame.

  My body twitched and throbbed. I couldn’t move, I could hardly breathe, my lungs screamed for oxygen, yet I couldn’t even when I tried. My heart thumped in my ears, beating erratically. I was amazed that I was even conscious.

  Move! Move! You’ll die! The fury screamed.

  I’m going to die, we’re going to die! Another half panicked.

  Heal yourself, dammit! You can heal yourself! Fury roared.

  They were right. It was as if a switch allowing me to breathe was flicked. I suddenly gasped for air, gulping in cold, yet burning mouthfuls of ether-filled air. The building was thick with it, and the ozone smell was almost suffocating. Yet, I hadn’t had the time to ment the acrid taste or smell.

  Weakly, I spped my right hand to my chest and channeled. Though I was too te, Putinov’s shadow loomed over me. My heart quickened, and before I could react, I felt their hand grasping me by the scruff of my neck. They lifted me from the floor as if I weighed nothing and turned me to face them, where I watched as their busted jaw mended itself back together to the point that it seemed as if there was never an injury to be had. I gasped and cried, kicked and tried to scream, yet nothing but chokes and whimpers escaped my lips.

  “Pathetic,” Putinov said in Saria’s voice. They sighed. “You had me excited there for a minute, Echo. I had hoped that you would bring more joy to me like before. I’ve waited centuries for this meeting since our st. That’s why I was so disappointed earlier today when you had little old Shaed Garn do all the battling for you. That one is such a bore…” They said, shaking their head.

  “Luna!” Varis cried from where he leaned over Father. “Aunt Saria let her go!” He shouted and as he stood.

  Putinov ignored him and continued, their eyes never leaving me. “Why do you fight anyways?” They asked, though it was rhetorical as they went on, “Every time you give me the same answer, yet every time you’ve failed.” Their eyes narrowed on me. “So why? What are you fighting for, Echo? You are not part of his Pattern, you were not made from his weave. You are nothing, a creation of something pretending to be greater. You owe nothing to Conservation. You are a prisoner along with everyone else here, matter of fact… You are something worst.” They sneered and pulled me closer. “You are a tool; a means to an end. You’ve always have been… Don’t you see it?”

  I gasped and opened my lips, but again, no words would come.

  “Mortality is a curse, a concept to keep you shackled,” They went on. “You live, love, create wonders, invent new things, and then squander it all with hatred and violence. Death then ends it all, and the Current washes everything away only for you to be reborn with no recollection only to do it all again.” They snarled. “It’s insanity.”

  I gasped as their grip tightened around the back of my neck. “Wh-what a-are you ta-talking about?” I croaked.

  Putinov’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly,” They said with a snarl, just when a bolt of fme struck them in the side of the face. Their face became engulfed in fire, and they screamed. Putinov’s grip tightened around my neck as they stumbled back, and I gasped and twitched.

  “Let her go!” Varis screamed with an outstretched hand and hurled another fire bolt at them. The fme struck them right in the chest, near the aerinite medallion that hung from their neck, and I saw Putinov yell and reach for it, the glowing amethyst embedded in it.

  I focused on that medallion and reached for it with all my might. Yet it was a futile attempt, as Putinov recovered from their surprise and, in a fsh, threw me away toward Varis. “As you wish!” They released me with tremendous force, and I rocketed toward my brother.

  A gust of wind smmed into me and enveloped me, buffeting me moments before impacting Varis. My brother huffed and gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs, and my back collided with him, and both sprawled out across the ground.

  “Impressive,” Putinov said, “You caught on quicker than I expected.”

  I rolled onto my stomach with a groan. My entire body ached and throbbed, each breath felt like a mountain I had to climb, while my limbs felt like they had lead weights strapped to them. I looked up and saw my brother on his side, hands clutching his stomach, face twisted in pain. He opened one eye, his green one, looked at me, and smiled weakly.

  “I-I did something…” He said softly before vomiting up blood and falling unconscious.

  Everything ceased then. All sound faded, and my vision blurred. Except that not all was truly quiet. A faint ringing echoed in the back of my mind, along with the distant thunderous steps coming from Putinov as they approached me. Yet, my eyes never left my brother’s bloodied, smiling face, and I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing or not. My loving, annoying brother was hurt because he saved me.

  He saved me, and now he’s dying because of me, and I’m doing nothing. He saved me, and I can’t fucking do anything. My body is weak, it hurts, it…

  Heal yourself, you idiot!

  The tempest roared to life again, and all my pain and fatigue instantly vanished. Dark tendrils and whisps exploded out from me and swirled around my form. Its arms wrapped around my body, enveloping me in its embrace. A surge of energy I hadn’t known was there pumped through me like adrenaline. With a furious roar, I pushed myself off the floor hard enough that I leaped into the air and didn’t come back down.

  My feet levitated off the ground, and without thought or question, I turned to face Putinov. “I’m going to kill you,” I said with a voice I wasn’t sure was even my own.

  Putinov smiled. “I know it seems like a tragedy,” they said, their eyes shifting to look at my brother and father. “But please know that what I’m doing here is a kindness—” The force struck Putinov square in the chest where their medallion hung, and the air around them rippled for a fraction of a second as reality buckled and ruptured.

  The bst deafened me, but as quickly as it did, I channeled the ether to my ears and healed the damage. Like a bullet fired from a gun, Putinov was sent back, their body a blur, their blood and viscera mist. What remained of their body flew back into the room I shared and struck the wall, which folded and crumpled like papier mache.

  The air was clouded with debris and smoke as I heard Putinov crashing through three more walls before finally coming to a stop. I could hear the screams of people coming from the other side of the walls and the floor below, and I didn’t care. Further ahead, through smoke and dust, I could sense them. I don’t know how, but I could. They were alive and still moving.

  Bsting them through four walls would’ve been too easy anyway.

  “Ahha!” I heard them cheer, a sound that, admittedly, made me smile too. “Finally! This, this is what I was hoping for!”

  I first saw the lightning arc before I heard the sound of thunder, and I threw up a shield just as the psma bolt could strike. The lightning reflected off my shield and hit the ceiling above me, bsting a cascade of embers and debris as it tore through the structure. The wall immediately caught fire, and ahead of me, a dark silhouette appeared as Putinov stepped through the open hole.

  Their arms outstretched, face split with a broad, beaming smile. “More of this!” They said excitedly, “Give me more of this!”

  Seeing their smiles caused my gut to churn, and my hands clenched into fists. “Gdly,” I said, and I instinctively shot toward them.

  No longer surprised, Putinov leaped back and threw up one of their shields just as my ether-enhanced fist was about to connect with their chest. Like punching a wall, my fist crunched against the barrier, and pain exploded up my arm as my hand and arm audibly snapped. My vision fshed briefly as searing, hot agony clouded my mind, and I cried.

  “Idiot!” Putinov sneered and grasped onto my destroyed limb, igniting the pain again, before whipping me around and throwing me through the hole in the wall. “You honestly think you can just punch your way out of this? Don’t be so boring!”

  Soaring into the next room, I clutched at my broken arm as I collided with the floor and rolled. My back smmed into a discarded, shattered table. Everything was blurred, all I could feel was pain, and I couldn’t focus. It hurt so much, I had to do something or else I was going to die. Oh, God, I was going to die.

  Don’t panic—you just need to heal yourself! My mind screamed, but I couldn’t concentrate. I just hurt so much… A dark shape loomed over me. Fear bubbled its way out of me, but all I could do was whimper as I looked up to see not Putinov, but a man.

  A darkskinned man in a light brown suit. I didn’t recognize him. Who was he? Why was he here… Doesn’t he hear the building arm? Doesn’t he see what’s going on?

  Other people were staying and working in this building, idiot…

  “By the Seven, we need to go,” the man said, his voice sounding distant. “Anika, go get a doctor! “

  Anika? I thought, my mind tching onto whatever it could as I tried to keep conscious. They’re in danger…

  “Hey, hey now,” The man’s voice echoed, and I felt something lightly tapping my cheek. “Stay with us now…”

  The man gave me a light sp, and my mind jerked back into reality, and I gasped. “F-Fuck!” I yelped as the pain in my arm fred. “My arm! Fuck, my arm!”

  “Wh-whoa, hold still there, my friend is getting you a doctor,” The man said.

  “You need to run,” I gasped out. “Th-They’re going to kill you.”

  The man blinked. “What do you mean–”

  “Did you think I just casually flew through the goddamn wall?!” I screamed. “Run!”

  “And why should he?” Putinov’s voice chilled my spine to the point that the pain in my arm was nonexistent.

  The well-dressed man, who had been leaning over me, stiffened as well and slowly turned to look at Putinov. “Mrs. Sartosi?” he said, his eyes widening. “Wh-what’s going on here?” he asked, standing up.

  “That isn’t her!” I screamed and tried to push myself to my knees, and my back and arm howled. “Get away from them,” I said, choking back a cry as I began to focus on mending my wounds.

  The man hesitated and turned back to me. Then he looked at Putinov, and seeing them for who they were, he pulled away. “Wh-what’s happening?” he asked again, directed at me.

  Gradually, my pain began to ease as rejuvenating ether stitched and molded my bones back together, while resilience helped subdue the worst of it. I pushed myself to my knees as Putinov’s smile widened, their eyes flicking from me and back to the man.

  “What’s happening here?” Putinov repeated, then they frowned at the man. “Isn’t it obvious?” They said, “I’m saving you.”

  Just as I got back to my feet, I saw Putinov raise their hand to the man’s face. “No!” I screamed and lunged for him, but I wasn’t fast enough. Time seemed to slow as the air between Putinov and the man rippled, then light broke, and the world became negative. Light became dark, dark became light, and my brain screamed, or so I thought it did.

  Like a reverse fshbang, my vision went dark, and I became soaked. Sharp pieces of something stabbed into me, and my back was pressed against a wall. Thankfully, I felt no pain, my focus on the spell resilience hadn’t faded, and the ether was keeping me from feeling the worst of what had happened. Yet, my head throbbed; even the goblins had left to avoid what I was feeling now.

  Something was in my mouth, something, irony, like blood, but thick and solid. I felt sick and spat it out. I hadn’t noticed it till now, but my hearing was gone. Everything was silent save for a faint, faint ringing. It wasn’t so different from when the Veinrite missile exploded over my head a few weeks back. At least I knew how to fix it.

  Redirecting my power flow, I concentrated on using my magic to restore my hearing and sight, and I honestly wished I hadn’t. It was like a horror movie. Everything was red: the walls and furniture around me, Putinov standing in the center of the hole, the door to my right, and even the floor and debris. It was all coated in a dark, almost bckish crimson. Chunks of meat and sharp pieces of fragmentation were embedded in the walls and furniture, and when looking down at myself, I was caked entirely in it as well. Chunks of something hung from my fingers, even sharp pieces of what looked like bone impaled my flesh and tore into my dress.

  I began to tremble.

  “Huh,” Putinov sniffed and gazed over their gore-smeared body. “Even I agree that was a bit much.”

  I whirled to face them. “You killed him!” I lost it.

  “Killed?” Putinov blinked and sighed. “I think I’ve made it very clear what I’m doing is–”

  “I don’t give a shit!” The tempest roared, and I threw both hands toward them and conjured a jet of fme that shot from between my palms. The fire surged as if propelled from a fme thrower, filling the entire hole and anything in its wake. Then, as if having always been there, Putinov was beside me.

  I tried to move away but couldn’t; my back was already against a wall. “Getting angry won’t help you!” Putinov said as their hand grasped around my throat. They yanked me violently back and, like a discarded toy, they threw me towards the door with enough force that once my face collided with the wood, it splintered and buckled as my head broke through.

  Amazingly, I felt nothing. The power of resilience surged through me still, and I knew my face, or what was left of it, was not in good shape. Yet, I was still conscious and aware without the pain to distract me. However, I had little time to ponder the implications of this as, within a second ter, I felt something, almost ethereal, grasp me by the leg before aggressively pulling me out of the broken door.

  “Don’t you see how pointless this is?” Putinov asked as I was lifted into the air by my ankle, by nothing, except I felt something, something was holding onto me. “What are you even fighting for?” They gestured with their arms out wide, flicking blood and viscera around the scene. “This? Death, violence, pain, and misery?”

  “Chu cuazed chis!” I tried to speak, not realizing my face was still a broken mess after having been thrown through a door.

  Putinov’s smile broadened. “I did.” They nodded. “But only because I wanted to show you what you’re trying to protect. How foolish it is to cling to this pain and grief. Why is it that you all are so addicted to this horrible existence you call life? Don’t you realize that eventually everything you love and care about will whither and die? Only to be reborn again so that you can just relive it like some endless loop of self torture? That’s why I broke your father, brother, then painted this room with that man… Because I want to show you what you’ll feel.”

  “Fchuck chu!” I spat a glob of blood at him.

  Putinov sighed deeply and shook their head. “So be it.” They flicked their wrist, and I flew headfirst toward the opposite wall as if shot from a cannon.

  “I have walked the paths of our world many times over. I’ve traveled to each Urd Tree and took part in the fruits that they’ve offered. I’ve spoken to the tribes of beasts to the south and garnered their wisdom, I’ve sailed the oceans to nds never before seen by imperial eyes. Yet not once have I ever once bore witness to the Thing beneath the waves.”

  - Mysteries of the World, Sybil Tholl

  ImmortanJoJo