Tower
The boy stepped back, retreating for a few meters. His reason being a large robotic fist that came crashing down at the next second. Grating metal split the air, splinters of iron scattering across squallish gale, signifying the strength that his opponent carried.
[Wow, that can kill me] The boy mumbled under his breath, as he observed the destruction that the automaton brought into the wrought-iron ground..
The giant had yet to recover from the attack it just made, its fist still plastered to the floor. It took the golem considerable effort to remove his fist, as it seemed to have destroyed part of the clock face, the metal spikes impaling them.
Taking advantage of this, the boy approached the giant's legs, appearing from behind. The mechanical giant's sluggish movement, coupled with his lithe form, enabled him to quickly act, preventing the golem from reacting in time. The boy begun his assault.
He noticed a flaking area just below the left joint. A rusty, decayed stretch of machinery, where broken parts jutted out more, compared to the rest of golem's failing body. It was devoid of any functional parts, a place that would collapse at the slightest disturbance. The decaying parts made clear the place where he needed to strike.
As if by instinct, the boy lowered his arm, the glistening blade within his right hand's grasp. It shone like a beacon in the night, a blaze of light that gave away his position to the enemy. The giant, sensing the boy's intent, tried to shut off his attempt, an arm reaching from its side. Before it could succeed, however, the boy swung his blade upwards with deft precision, a vertical cut. A brief surge of heat radiated from his weapon as it emanated an emerald glow.
A green crescent traced along the blade's trajectory, cleaving through machinery amalgamate. An arc of sharpness carved through its target as scraped metal flung off from his attack. The giant's left leg suffered through a large cut, mechanical parts falling to the floor.
The ground shook in response as the giant's footing faltered, briefly stumbling back, its body creaking and rustling under the pressure. This made things easier for him.
[That attack just now... how did I do that?] He muttered, still unaware of how he had done such a thing. [Wait, fight now, questions later!]
The giant had already regained its footing, turning around to face the boy that had struck his legs. The giant raised its right arm, its hands an open palm, intending to crush him beneath it. Soon, the whistling of the wind came about as its hand descended from the sky, heading for his location.
The boy headed for his next target as he began his mad dash beneath the behemoth's legs. And soon enough, the giant's hand bordered close to him, trailing his movement. The hand's shadow signalled its offense as it attempted to squash him flat, ending the fight. Unfortunately, the ground was the only thing it'd touched, as the boy already fled to his side.
The boy encircled his opponent, trying for a vulnerability in the golem's impaired body. He only had a few moment's time, so he fully used the seconds he had, examining the creature's right leg. As the fruits of his labor, he'd found one, a flaw that stood out amongst the rest. It was the golem's juncture, equivalent to a human knee.
Another exposed area, mangled and tarnished by the corroding metal. Shattered gears protruded from the area, giving it the appearance of shattered glass. Fragmented parts lay detached, no longer serving purpose. It was in a worse state compared to the surrounding space. This area, as much as it hurt him to consider, was perfect for weakening his opponent.
[Please don't hate me for this] The boy whispered to himself, trying to find comfort in his words. To him, the metal wound was a painful sight.
His weapon shone again, glowing verdant green, as haze manifested from the blade. Emanating heat, he vaulted towards the wound, knife in hand. Approaching the wound, he brought the blade to his left, an impetuous swing coming forth as he swiveled forward. A level slash this time.
A streak of emerald light appeared once more, tracing the knife's path as it had done from before.
And so, the silver blade went snicker-snack, an open fissure that traced back. The cacophony of metal fell to the surface of the clock-face.
Like a hail of ice, they fell to the ground with a heavy sound. The discord sown by the noise echoed throughout the arena, drowning the room in dissonance. The golem from which they fell twisted itself, endeavoring to reach its assailant.
[You can't reach me, unfortunately.] No malice was present in his voice as he said so in a matter-of-factly tone.
The golem continued its motion, twisting its body. As it has done so, its body lurched forward, the balance it possessed faltering. The right leg it stood on collapsed, as its toppling form gave way to the ground. The robot used its left leg to support itself, causing it to kneel with one knee. As for what had caused such a reaction, the sole blame found itself on his exploitation of the automaton's vulnerability.
[Now... I can get rid of your lower limbs, once and for-]
Before he could finish his words, the impact of a heavy object flung him into the air, disorienting his thoughts. The golem's left foot, planted on the ground, suddenly struck him like a battering ram, hence his airborne journey. The hobbling display was just a ruse, a feint that distracted him. His mind was in a daze as it attempted to assay his situation.
Thrown into the air, his vision remained in the sky as he saw a ticking object. The timepiece remained in the sky, overseeing his predicament with a cold, uncaring presence. He glazed his view over it, seeing the displayed countdown.
{8:13}
Not a minute had passed since their struggle, and yet he already found himself in troublesome circumstances. The situation was already unfavorable for him as he plummeted from the skies. He deliberated for a proper course of action, anything that could help him escape his free-falling fate. And yet, before he could form any meaningful conjectures, a hand begun its descent as it threatened to pummel him down.
'Crap' He thought, as he had no way of rejecting the golem's charge. 'I might really die here'
The palm dove from above the skies, overshadowing the boy's figure as it continued its deadly descent. Quickly, the hand came upon him, as it struck with the force of a truck, his body bearing the entirety of its impact. As it was, his body fell at full speed, akin to an orbital projectile that converged towards its target. His encounter with the ground was imminent.
Deafening noise engulfed the arena as the boy impacted, leaving a wake of destruction in his path. The ground trembled at his collision, shaking the entire clockface; the arena that housed their battle. And then, all was still. Everything remained hushed in the interlude.
The clockface, from which they stood on, saw itself broken beyond recognition, scraps of metal strewn across the arena. Numerals that comprised it lay dispersed amidst the rubble, scarcely discernible from the wreckage. The clock-hands, once attached to the central pivot, stuck out like buried spears from a battle long gone, the place appearing deserted. A derelict left by the murmurs of time.
While the destruction was indeed devastating, the boy found himself in worse shape. His battered form lay on the broken earth, the cloak he wore in tatters. Of contorted limbs and fractured bones, a body mangled and distorted by injuries on display. Blood seeped into the ground, emerging from the grotesque wounds he'd sustained. And yet, by some divine miracle, a faint pulse remained, hardly clinging to life.
The black box, his tv-like possession that protected his mental faculties, was unharmed. Yet it showed no sign of activity. It neither moved nor displayed anything on its monitor screen. It was apparent that the robot's attack did quite the number on his already frail body, even if it was abnormal.
The automaton stopped, laying its gaze at the boy's appearance. Seeing that he was on the verge of death, it thought of finishing the job, stopping the boy's suffering. Even if the boy could not fulfill his promise, even if the golem could no longer die as a result, it still had the compassion to put him out of his misery. A strange act of mercy coming from the supposed machine.
The boy exhibited an exceptional ability in combat, enabling him to best the giant for a few brief moments. And yet, it was not enough. It took the automaton only a minute to render his opponent immobile, a momentary gap within the space of time.
The giant raised its right foot with the creaking of metal that broke the mute silence. Grinding gears and coiled springs began their noisy works, permitting the robot's action. The mechanical structure halted for a few seconds until they resumed their locomotion. The brief pause came from the clockwork foot, finishing its ascent before it dove.
As the finality of death loomed close, the boy stirred, vaguely aware of his surroundings.
[... ahh...] A single groan came out from him as the taste of iron filled his mouth. His body ached, an excruciating pain coming from nearly every single part of his injured form. With his body in such a state, he could neither move nor speak.
Mustering whatever strength he had left, the boy craned his head upwards, only to see the towering form of his enemy. A faint red glow came in the distance. He'd found himself within the view of the automaton's single, mechanical eye. The sole remaining feature from the golem's fragmentary visage, glaring at his location.
He noticed another object, the behemoth's foot, that imperiled his meager form. It was descending to kill him. He was going to die. And from that revelation, his fear of death manifested, threatening his well-being. The fear took hold inside him, gripping his heart. To him, it felt like he was being choked.
During the previous challenges he'd faced, the possibility of death became nothing more than an illogical fear he could cast off at a whim. That was all. To him, the concept of dying was only a means of reinforcing himself, a way of testing his limit. Despite almost dying in those scenarios, he'd always accomplish what the world had asked of him.
He succeeded at facing the challenges he himself stumbled upon: from the stone maze, up till the flowery lake. Those two challenges; from the former requiring the impossible capability of completely retrieving information that he'd memorized, and the latter being a rather specific test where well using one's physique became imperative was nothing more than a means to an end. They were an avenue for testing his limits. And yet here he was, standing before death.
'Am I... going to die?' It was the only thing that occupied his mind. The truth crushed him. It threatened to choke him, asphyxiate him, constricting his thoughts as his death grew closer.
Soon enough, a shadow overhung across the boy's broken form. The guardian's foot threatening to trample him beneath. The boy, sensing his death, finally gave up on any hope of living as the automaton finished its motion when... the silver blade gleamed, viridian sparks declaring their refusal. It was an act of rebellion, the weapon's attempt at resisting the fate impeding on its owner.
From the golem's understanding, the strange lights were nothing more than a feeble attempt at distraction. A parlor trick, if you may. Indeed, the anomalous glow may have been nothing more than a bluff as the boy approached death. The brightness, however, was anything but that.
The mechanical appendage closed in on him, only a few meters away. Just as the golem thought it'd accomplished his goal, a strange sound came from the boy. A peculiar, whirring sound that originated from the black box he wore.
'Ah... I don't want to die...' In desperation, the boy raised his arm, bloodied and wounded as blood trickled from it. Faced with raw power, a single arm could do naught but suffer.
The limb was mere inches from his face when from his visor...
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... Enigmatic symbols materialized.
With the giant's might backing its actions, the foot smashed into the ground, demolishing everything in its path. Thundering noise plunged into the arena in bellows as the ground shook. Effluvia, debris, wreckage, or whatever you might call it, were the only things that remained. No trace of the clock-face remained after the brief onslaught. Despite the destruction, the boy still lived.
'.… A world covered in numbers... Big, colorful numbers merging with the surroundings... The colors of my vision seem mixed up... Sounds seem to coat the skies in vivid hues... It's like... I'm in a fairytale...'
For some unknown reason, his perception of the world expanded in their imagery. If then, he saw the world as canvas dotted in black and white, now it was a full-scale painting complete with depth and perception, where the colors and lines would form meaningful images.
[.... which would mean that.... ah, I see... wait, that's not right...] The sound of a boy murmuring came from a strange youth, a chain of nonsensical words scarcely audible as a whisper. From an observer's perspective, he had gone mad. [... hmm... how about this?]
The golem found it strange. It could not determine the boy's presence beneath the rubble. It expected to find the boy crushed beneath it, lifeless and dead, but it felt no trace of him. Instead, it discerned vague noises coming from beneath; the sounds originating from its appendage. Seeking to find the source of the faint clamor, it lightly raised its leg, seeking a closer look. As for what the robot saw, a most unexpected sight greeted it.
The figure of a shadowy creature, the person who it'd been looking for, sat on the bridge of its foot, mumbling words to himself. Bereft of any wounds and injuries was its enemy, preoccupied by his own thoughts. The boy cheerfully talked to itself, its manner of speech similar to that of a curious child discovering new things.
The golem, flabbergasted at the boy's survival, could not form a proper conjecture on how to deal with the situation. While the golem remained stunned, the boy continued to be absorbed in his own world, unaware of the surrounding reality.
'The enemy is a semi-functional humanoid automaton comprising mechanical clockwork. Said clockwork, including gears, bolts, pulleys, levers, springs, glass beads, and other mechanisms, with the sum being over 400 million parts, notwithstanding the mass lost because of deterioration. It is 90 ft tall, its physique vaguely based on a human's anatomical structure. The body is in a state of decay brought out by the natural elements, some areas already oxidized by rust. Extensive damage by physical impact is also present in its entire form, most notably on its limbs and head. Both arms can still maintain movement, despite the missing parts. The legs, however, are in worse shape. Its left leg has multiple gaps in them, giving it the appearance of a beehive with a fifth of its mass gone. The right leg, instead, has one large cavity with broken machinery protruding from it, with only a third of its original parts left. Its head appears to have experienced a diagonal cut, enough to remove over a half from it, leaving a single functioning eye. This amount of damage would mean that over 93% of the automaton's strength had faded away. To think that I've been having trouble with you when you were already this weakened. Let's think of a plan, shall we?' As he continued to probe his enemy, the automaton only stared in disbelief at the boy's behavior, unaware of the plan that the boy had concocted.
[... should I try it?] After muttering those words, he dropped to the ground, brandishing the argent blade: his only weapon against the automaton.
Having noticed his sudden change in demeanor, the golem elected for another attack, hoping to finish the boy with one last strike. The robot clenched its left fist, opting to crush the boy with it. Like a meteor's descent, its fist raced through the air, aeolian wind marking its journey. The golem desired to crush the youth once and for all, as it had failed to do so before.
[... might as well do so then...] The boy laid his gaze on the descending pillar of metal and glass, heaven's hell-sent gift that aimed for him.
The golem missed, a few meters shy from its intended mark. Its target had eluded its grasp, turning up a short distance away from its aim. As it pulled out its fist, the boy moved. Barely visible as a shadow, his presence flickered, emerging behind the extremity.
[... prevent the automaton from maintaining its balance by thrusting its fist further into the ground, making it plummet...] Continuing his monologue, the boy darted towards his prey, as his knife glowed once more. [... your right arm should be next...]
The familiar green haze made manifest, clinging onto his blade as an emanation. And then, with no warning, the blade struck, rooting the golem's fist in place. With its fist entrenched beneath, the golem fell to its knees with its right arm the only limb propping itself up, preventing itself from falling further into the ground. Before it could act, however, the boy disappeared yet again, heading for its right arm this time.
[... the right arm is still being used as a crutch, so drag it down...] Instead of a sprint, the boy merely walked towards his next destination, with his foe powerless to stop him. [... once that's done, I should have some leeway in stripping the automaton of its mobility...]
As he neared the stationary limb, malachite fog emerged from the silver knife, glazing the blade with a tinge of green. The boy raised his blade, a weapon gleaming emerald under the shadow of the colossus. And then it descended, tilting from his left. A brief flash of green confirmed his momentary onslaught, severing the outstretched arm, causing it to plunge. The golem's body had fallen, its right arm parted from it.
[... then I need to eliminate its legs next... in case they still act up...] He did not run nor sprint, only walking towards his target at a turtle's pace. [... after that... I'm done... I think?...]
His shambling form drew near the immobile legs, the knife he held glowing brighter with every step he took. With the passing of seconds, he found himself in front of them, their appearance overshadowing him. The blade's glow seemed like an imprisoned sun, gleaming under the metal. He steadied it above his head as he began his last strike.
[... forgive me for this...] He leapt into the sky, hovering above the broken limbs. And with a single stroke, his bladed edge cut through.
Like the setting of the sun, his sterling knife fell down. A sea of emerald flames chased the blade of ruination, engulfing the arena in viridian hues. The beryl blaze rose into the heavens, painting the sky in verdant green. And from it, a piercing arc that cleaved into the ground, slicing it open with unmade strength.
Aureate pillars of light, aquamarine towers that shone in lustrous green, gently dissipated into nothingness with the aftermath of his attack making itself known. He landed after completing his attack, the flickering of his visor now gone. Instead, his lone eye receded from the screen, leaving it barren.
His opponent, the automaton, remained motionless after the onfall, its arms and legs already destroyed. The arena they stood on, the clock face once decorated with intricacies, wholly fractured with not a single trace of its previous beauty left. The black fog which once surrounded the arena dispersed, leaving only a black space that contained nothing but the empty air. And the blackened sky, heretofore a blank canvas, had the moon staring from above. The timer had disappeared.
[... I knew it...] He glared at the celestial sphere, enmity present in his angered gaze. [... you were watching... weren't you?]
'Wait, why am I getting angry at the moon? I know it seems like it's mocking me, but it's not like it's alive or anything. It's just a chunk of rock floating through earth's orbit. It can't hurt me or anything,' He brooded over the source of his anger, finding it irrational.
[... not like it matters...] Having understood the absurdity of his thoughts, he brought his gaze downwards, no longer focusing on the heavenly body [... once I escape, I won't see you again...]
[… hey automaton…] He turned to the broken golem, noticing slight movement from its exposed gears, [… you're still alive, aren't you?]
The fallen body trembled, a reply coming from the mechanical giant. It had no arms to hold him, nor legs to approach him with. The most it could do was swivel its head and cause its body to gyrate, a poor way of communication.
[… I'd like to ask three questions… if possible…] The golem no longer posed any danger to him, so asking for a few questions shouldn't compromise his safety [… is that all right?]
The automaton feebly nodded in response. If answering a few questions was enough to earn it peace, then it would do its best to offer its knowledge.
[… nod if it's yes… and shake your head if it's a no…] The boy hastily explained the rules to the golem, hoping to ask his questions as soon as possible
[… all right… so… first question…] He began his queries to the robot [… is this the fallen king's domain?]
For his first question, the golem shook its head. If this place didn't belong to the fallen king, whose name appeared countless times during his trials, then to whom did this place belong to? Countless possibilities raced in its head, none of which had a good lead.
[… okay… second question…] He moved onto his next inquiry [… earlier… I saw the statue of a young boy dressed in a sailor's clothes… it said it was the Storyteller… is that who I am?]
The golem also shook its head at this. He wasn't the Storyteller, that much was obvious. The poems and excerpts he saw all referred to him as the fallen king, yet he hoped this one would be true.
[… so… last question…] He was already at his last inquiry, he only needed a confirmation now [… I'm already sure that I'm this one but… uh… am I the fallen king?]
At this, the golem nodded. It confirmed his suspicions about himself. From the poems, until the paintings, they were all referring to a single individual called the Fallen King. And through the golem's answer, he found out that it was him. He was the source of his own problems.
With this revelation, his thoughts became much clearer. Green vertical slits, now known to be his eyes, exposed themselves again, manifesting at his visor. And with their return came an extremely painful headache. A headache that kept pounding at him, making him kneel in response.
He remained prostrated to the ground, his hands clawing at his unreachable head. This continued for a minute until the pain eventually died down.
[Ow…] With the pain finally gone, the boy stood up [Where the hell did that come from?]
He mulled things over, only to realize that the headache began when he confirmed his identity. That he was the fallen king. And having realized how it happened pissed him off… greatly.
[What kind of crap did I pull that made me deserve to go through all those stupid trials HUH!] He yelled out, affronted at his plight [I CAN'T EVEN F—KING REMEMBER WHO I AM!]
For the next few seconds, he swore like a sailor. A sailor in a drunken rage, that is. And then, when all was eventually well, he reviewed his situation.
[Ah, forget it] Despite his firm contemplation, no new information came to light. [This is driving me nuts]
He then faced the golem, realizing that it remained on the ground, waiting for him.
[Oh… Uh, sorry for forgetting about you…] He apologized, as he felt guilty about his actions [Your name is Guardian Automata, right?]
His question surprised the automaton. It was the least that it expected to hear from the boy. Then, after pondering for a bit, it shook its head as a response to him.
[Oh, I see…] Somewhat disappointed; he offered a retort, [That's how I'll remember you though, since you can't precisely tell me your name.]
The golem could only tremble at his response. It was as if the golem felt joy from the faint camaraderie it had experienced. It was laughter.
[You're laughing aren't you?] He hit the mark [That's your way of laughing, isn't it?]
The golem nodded again, its body still trembling with delight. Both of them felt satisfaction with each other. Despite their deadly fight, no one held any grudges. Neither malice nor animosity came from both sides.
[Well then…] With the moment of respite coming to a close, he approached the automaton's head
[Guardian Automata…] His steps echoed throughout the ruins of their battle [I know not who you are, nor what your real name is. Your identity eludes me…]
[And yet… from the bottom of my heart…] He voiced his sincerity to the fallen creature [I thank you… thank you for agreeing to my foolish request…]
[And for that…] His drew his steps to a halt, the automaton's single red eye gazing at him [Let me carry out your will]
[We had one hell of a fight so…] A knife of auric gold and argent silver, raised into the sky by a single arm
A curved line formed on his visor portraying a grin, his smile [Thank you very much!]
The golem accepted its fate, its mechanical eye losing its glow. The executioner's blade fell, a head severed. His former opponent, the Guardian Automata, has stopped moving.
[…] The boy only offered his silence, paying respects to the fallen foe.
'I feel sad...' His thoughts reflected the state of his mind.
He fulfilled his promise to the mechanical giant. A strange request that he agreed on a whim. He'd done as asked and yet he felt empty. As if he was-
[Grieving… was it?] The conclusion he'd fallen to felt absurd to him [I'm the one who ended their life, and yet I grieve…]
Realizing the source of his sadness, he contemplated further on his state. He killed someone, whether they were human did not matter to him. He killed the very first person he met. Despite the lack of words between them, he felt kinship to it. A responsibility towards the guardian's ill fate. Though he remained trapped in his thoughts, no epiphany came as he gave up.
[Well?] Aware that moping around wouldn't help, he gestured to the sky. [I'm waiting]
The moon remained, a spherical heavenly body that continued to impart its moonlight on the shattered stadium. Radio silence permeating the place. An arena devoid of life, except for him. He was the sole person who stood there now.
[Still nothing, huh?] No response came from his surroundings [I'll just sit here until things… change?]
He turned to his hands, only to see their evanescent form. Faltering, altering specks of light that seemed to fade into the darkened sky, like fireflies. Like smoldering embers that gradually lost their blaze, only to fade to black. An enchanted sight of flickering sparks.
[I'm fading] He laughed, knowing the cruel irony of his situation. [How poetic indeed]
The motes of light began their lengthy voyage towards the lunar orb of night. They were heading towards the moon. As his consciousness faltered, he stared at his fading form, momentary spite aimed at himself.
[I guess this is a part of the game?] He sneered [Now then, what about you... you stupid moon?]
He turned his gaze to the sky, towards the heavenly sphere that remained on the horizon. In a place where no stars shone, and the sun did not exist, a solitary moon lingered, its color of argent silver and auric gold.
[My aberrant revulsion for you is irrational but…] His visor flickered, static noise filling it. [How I wish to see you fall]
With what remained of his body, he turned towards his spectator, scorning at its existence. His vanishing self only fueled his anger more.
[All this time… you were watching me… right?] Throughout his entire journey, an observer's glare persisted. And, with a single gaze at the moon, the boy confirmed its presence for the first time. [Was it entertaining?]
He came closer, his body transient in its appearance. With each step he took, the moon grew bigger. Its size increasing until eventually, he was opposite to it. He came to face the lunar crescent, a place untouched by mortal hands. And yet, if he reached out, he felt the distance shorten.
The moon's presence was realistic. Its details were complete. Unknown were the craters names, yet they felt familiar to him. As if he had seen them before. He also recognized the name of one place, Mare Tranquillitatis. The Sea of Tranquility greeted him, an ocean of stone that lay before his very eyes. And while he thought it odd, another familiar sight greeted him.
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YOU ARE A LAPDOG OF REALITY
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[It was real…] The first words he ever read since waking made manifest before him, shimmering in twilight dust [There is someone after all…]
An ephemeral sight before his very eyes, his own figure a symbol of impermanence as he turned further into dancing lights. When he began to fade more, he returned a look to the moon one last time and said…
[My dearest stalker…] Whilst he spoke these words, his blade gleamed. Furor seeping from its silver-tinged steel. His voice contained raw, unfiltered fury. [From your lofty seat of stars… I shall drag you down the heavens… ]
With what remained of his hands, he aimed the knife at the golden-silver backdrop, hoping to cleave the skies. Before he could bring harm the heavens, his body lost their material form. A lone blade, trying to grasp beyond the stars, only for it to fade like mist. An unreachable dream, immortal smoke that reached for the moon, an imperishable night.
[As heaven's hell-sent gift.] he tried to reach further, as if his hands were close to touching the moon
[... I promise...] Unable to deny fate, his body turned to dust. He melted into the distant sky; the boy vanishing without a trace. It was as if he never existed. A state of nil. And all that remained was a tower of sunken rock, its edges an empty abyss.
His form no longer visible, the broken grounds illuminated by pale moonlight, a soliloquy under the blackened skies. As for the moon, it seemed to be… sneering at the boy's words. By some illogical manner, it looked down on him. On the world that never was.