"Archeeew!" Elias sneezed, his drowsy eyes fluttering open.
"Where am I?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes as he pushed himself up from the ground. Pain shot up from his waist, sharp enough to make him grit his teeth just to stop himself from hissing.
"Dammit. About six broken ribs, a broken nose, broken arms, and eyes that are basically half blind without my damn glasses. Any stray Echoform just has to stroll by and say hi and it's over for my stupid ass," he groaned. Lifting his head, he looked around—and immediately bit down on his lower lip as hard as he could to stop the very unmanly scream threatening to burst out of him.
Lined up against the walls of what had to be the creepiest hallway ever were statues—hundreds of them. Each one looked scary enough to give an old lady doing casual grocery shopping a heart attack.
Some had multiple heads twisted in weird, unsettling expressions. Others were covered in countless bulging eyes that made Elias feel like ants were crawling under his skin.
And then there were the… different ones. The ones shaped so bizarrely that human language honestly didn't have the right words for whatever those abominations were supposed to be.
But every single one of them had one thing in common. Their mouths—or whatever counted as one—were hanging open.
Like they were… screaming.
Heart pounding, Elias took slow breaths. Calm down, me, he told himself, feeling the tremble in his limbs ease a little. "How can I, the greatest and most humble aspiring Chordbearer alive, be scared to death by a bunch of rocks? Joke's on you suckers!"
With his courage climbing, he walked toward a particularly nasty-looking statue—some horrifying mash-up of different creatures, with bird-like wings on its back, reptile limbs, and a human face, if you could even call it that. Raising his slightly trembling leg, he gave the statue a small kick on the knee.
The tap echoed through the hall, but the statue stayed exactly where it was, unmoving.
"Ha. Just as I thought," Elias said, relief slipping across his face before he raised his leg again, his expression twisting into anger. "You bastard, you dared make this daddy lose face. You need a good whipping." He kicked the statue harder this time, hitting the same spot over and over, then let out a petty, satisfied sigh.
"Fuck you, ugly face. Just for today, I'll let you off with minor bruises. But next time you piss me off, you'll leave one of your legs behind, jerk," he snorted.
He was just about to turn away when he caught the slightest shift in the statue's face. He might've chalked it up to his brain glitching… if the statue's eyes weren't already rolling sideways toward him.
A chill tore down Elias' spine, and before his mind even processed it, his body had already taken off.
"It's all that Echoling's fault!" he yelled, the corners of his eyes stinging with tiny tears as he clenched his fists and sprinted without slowing. "When I'm done with that bastard of a Chordbearer, I'm coming for you, so don't you dare die!"
At that moment, the dim passage lit up.
Every statue in the hallway shifted its head toward him. Their eyes were eerie. Almost mocking.
Elias shuddered, nearly tripping from how hard he flinched. But he didn't stop running—why the hell would he? The only exit was the double obsidian doors at the far end of the hall, and the problem was the path leading to it was lined with rows and rows of those nightmare statues… all staring straight at him.
Elias gritted his teeth, his face twisted in a grimace. "Wretches! What else can you do besides stare?!"
That was when it happened. The open mouths of the statues twisted sideways in what had to be the worst attempt at a grin. Their eyes rolled. Their mouths warped. The whole scene was nightmare fuel—enough to finish off any grandpa already on life support.
Then Elias felt something hit him—like a gust of wind. Silent, careless. But the hollow feeling that washed through him told him he'd just been attacked. And with those mocking eyes all locked on him, it wasn't hard to guess who did it.
"Ugh, me and my damn mouth."
That was the last thing he said before his voice vanished.
Elias fell flat on his face, his heart pounding like it wanted to break out of his chest. This time it wasn't the statues he was scared of, but what they were doing to him.
He couldn't feel his body anymore, and his legs—pretty much the only part he could still move—now felt foreign, like his soul had been yanked out and left behind.
But the worst part was his mind.
He could feel his memories slipping. No matter how hard he tried to hold onto them, they kept leaking away like stubborn smoke that refused to stay trapped.
NO NO NO! Elias screamed in his head, completely freaking out.
He could feel it happening. It was only a matter of time before he forgot himself entirely.
With whatever scraps of sanity he had left, he tried to cling to the fading edges of his consciousness.
And in that moment, a cursed memory pushed itself to the surface—one that was already starting to slip away.
***
"Elias, there's something I have to tell you," Sebastian said, his eyes fixed on the city from the school rooftop. In the background, faint violin and guitar notes drifted through the air, a familiar sound at the Elementary Symphony School.
Elias looked up at his friend, pausing the game on his tablet with a clearly annoyed expression. "This better be important. I was just about to clear another level in Royal Dungeon Quest, and you just snapped me out of my locked-in mode."
Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave Elias a light smack on the chest. "Please. You're so bad at that game you've been stuck on the same quest for three weeks. Weren't you 'locked in' like… three hours ago?"
Elias clenched his jaw. "This time was different. I could feel it, okay? I was close!"
Sebastian scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, genius."
Elias fought the urge to lunge at him, mostly because he knew he'd get destroyed. The bastard was way stronger than him now. "Just say whatever's on your mind. You've got thirty seconds before I decide if it's worth hearing or not."
Sebastian went quiet, his face draining of color like whatever he wanted to say was ripping something out of him. He lifted his trembling hand a little, then let it drop and shook his head. "You know what… just forget it. Forget I said anything."
Elias raised a brow at his friend's weird behavior, but before he could ask, the doors burst open and Miya, his girlfriend, walked in.
The sky-blue uniform didn't hide her bust at all, and her slim waist moved with that soft, effortless grace she always had. She strutted toward them with a smile, flicking her brown hair to the side the way only she could.
Elias stood up and went in for a hug, but she slipped out of his reach with a scoff. Then she wrapped herself around Sebastian instead, who didn't even try to pull away, her arms circling his waist as she rested her head on his chest.
Elias looked at his empty hands, then at Sebastian, then at Miya. He knew she could be playful, but this was pushing it—way too much, even for her.
"Miya, that's enough. You're making Sebastian uncomfortable," Elias said, reaching out to pull her back by the hand.
But Miya did something that knocked the breath right out of him.
She turned toward Sebastian, cupped his cheeks gently, and kissed him.
And it wasn't some light, accidental kiss. It was long. Slow. Intense. Their tongues tangled while Elias stood there, forced to watch one of the most agonizing moments of his life unfold in front of him like a sick joke.
When they finally pulled apart and turned to him, he didn't shake, didn't scream, didn't fall apart. What surprised him most was how calm he felt. Completely numb. He just asked one question, his face blank:
"For how long has this been going on?"
"Elia—" Sebastian started, guilt all over his face, but Miya pressed a finger to his lips to shut him up.
"Listen, Elias," Miya said, letting her eyes drag over him with clear disgust. "I know this is a lot for you, but Sebastian and I love each other. We tried to fight it because of you, but the spark between us was too strong to ignore. But don't worry—Sebastian will compensate you properly so you won't lose out too much."
Elias clenched his fists, fighting the urge to punch the bitch right in the mouth. "Answer. The. Freaking. Question."
She studied her fingers, like even glancing up at him would hurt her eyes. "Ever since he awakened, I guess."
Elias let out a sharp laugh, dragging a hand through his hair in pure agitation. "How fucking convenient."
"Elias, I—" Sebastian stuttered. "I love her."
Elias' red, exhausted eyes locked onto him, caught between disbelief and pure fury. "And what exactly do you want me to say? Congratulations for cucking your best friend?"
Sebastian looked down, his face tightening like someone had forced something bitter down his throat.
Miya shot Elias a glare, pulled Sebastian closer, and kissed him again. Then she turned back to Elias—who looked like his soul had just walked out of his body—which only made her smirk in satisfaction.
"Let's be honest, Elias. In what way do you even compare to Sebastian? What makes you think you deserve to keep calling yourself his best friend? You're delusional. You two live in completely different worlds now. You're not even on the same level as a flea buzzing past him. Wake up. The moment he awakened, you became nothing. Trash. Why should I tie myself to someone like you when Sebastian can actually protect me?"
"That's enough, Miya," Sebastian snapped, cutting her off. Then he turned to Elias, who looked like he'd been dragged through hell in the last few seconds. "Listen, man… I know what I did was horrible and not cool. Ask me for anything, Elias, and I'll try to make it up to you. Even if it's helping you find another gi—"
Elias turned away before he could finish, walking off with steps that barely had life in them.
"Elias," Sebastian called after him. But he didn't stop. He reached the door, opened it, and walked out—from what had to be one of the most traumatic moments of his entire life.
***
Elias' unmoving body on the ground twitched. His eyes, empty just moments ago, began to redden as he fought for control—fought to hold onto a memory he could not afford to lose.
That memory was his motivation.
It was his… resolve.
It was traumatic, yes, but it was necessary.
So with every drop of willpower running through his veins, he fought for control—over his body, over the weakness crushing him, over the humiliation binding him to this nightmarish place of self-degradation.
He couldn't think anymore. His mind was corroded by the soundless attack. But he still had his instincts—instincts that grabbed what was left of his will and shoved it into his muscles, the ones he couldn't even feel.
And slowly, he began to feel them again.
A vein popped across his forehead, but he pushed through it. His left leg twitched first, then lifted, wobbling as he tried to stand—only for him to collapse again, this time landing on one knee instead of his face.
He screamed at the mental pressure crushing him, even though no sound left his lips. Bit by bit, he forced himself up, dragging one knee off the ground as he inched toward the door.
He screamed.
He shouted.
But he kept moving. He didn't stop. He couldn't. He refused to.
He had stopped feeling anything long ago. The emptiness had already eaten him from the inside out. But his knees didn't buckle. His resolve didn't crack. His body moved like it remembered something his mind no longer did—like the command to keep going was carved straight into his bones.
Elias didn't even realize when he reached the obsidian doors. He couldn't, even if he tried. Only when he stepped inside—finally escaping the statues' mental grip—did his memories rush back, and his voice and sense of touch return all at once.
Coughing through a raw throat, Elias pushed to his feet and looked around.
His knees gave out the moment he took in the sight.
Because he wasn't in a room at all—he was in a whole damn realm. Hundreds of thousands of statues bowed toward an empty throne towering above a platform of golden stairs. There was no sun or moon overhead—just a sky burning with raging crimson flames, casting heat and light across the ground.
The statues of countless nightmarish Echoforms weren't even the real reason he was losing his mind. No—what made his brain short-circuit was the thousands of Mirroths drifting through the air. Red to cyan grade… even colors he didn't recognize. And that was impossible. There had never been a recorded case of one Mirrorth inside another, let alone thousands.
"Maybe I should go back," Elias whispered, heart hammering painfully. "Maybe test my luck and look for another exit in this cursed place."
He didn't get long to think, because the closest statue—a knight-like Echoform near the throne—shifted its head and locked all six of its glowing red eyes on him through its visor.
Elias froze. Not because he chose to, but because of the suffocating, blood-chilling pressure pinning him in place.
Then the knight opened its mouth—though no sound came out. Yet Elias understood it anyway. He couldn't explain how, and that alone scared the life out of him.
Ascend the stairs leading to the void and claim the throne of the end, or refuse—and perish. But beware… not all who climb reach the top, for the Throne of Silence must deem you worthy.
Its eerie voice echoed straight into his mind.
Elias rubbed his forehead, resisting the urge to curse. "What in your messed-up mind makes you think this is even a choice…"