Chapter 34 - The Myst
Somewhere in the Darkness
A faint, ragged cough echoed through the emptiness.
Lesser's eyes fluttered open, his vision hazy. His body ached, fever burning through his veins like fire. The air around him felt damp, rotten, heavy with mildew and rusted iron.
"Where... am I?" he muttered.
He tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey. His breath came out in short, uneven gasps. Everything felt strangely familiar— the darkness, the suffocating cold, the distant sound of dripping water. It was like he had been here before.
But something was missing.
Something important.
His mind reached for a memory, but there was nothing. Just a vast, hollow void.
A loud creak shattered the silence.
Lesser's breath hitched.
The basement doors swung open. Dim candlelight cast long shadows against the damp stone walls, flickering like ghosts. A heavy pair of boots stomped down the steps, each step filled with unspoken malice.
Lesser didn't need to look. He already knew who it was.
A deep, irritated voice broke the silence.
"You bastard... stop coughing. I can't sleep because of you."
Lesser clenched his fists. His entire body was trembling, but not from fever-this tear was different. It was rooted deep inside him, something primal.
Still, he forced himself to speak. "It's not like I can control it."
A moment of silence. Then—
"You bitch... are you talking back now?"
A sharp crack echoed through the basement.
Pain exploded across Lesser's back as the belt struck, the force sending him collapsing onto the cold stone floor. Again.
And again. His fragile bones ached under each merciless strike, the pain turning into a dull numbness.
His breathing became shallow. His vision blurred.
His breathing became shallow. His vision blurred.
The man sneered, looking down at him like trash.
"Tch. Ugly thing."
He spat on Lesser's face before walking away, leaving him in a crumpled heap.
The last thing Lesser saw before darkness swallowed him was the faint glow of the candlelight flickering against the cold, unfeeling walls.
"Tch. Why do I have to feed that bastard?"
Muttering under his breath, the man stomped toward the basement door. His irritation was clear, his patience long since worn thin. As he reached for the handle, something made him pause.
The door was already open.
His heart skipped a beat. Did I forget to lock it?
He took a hesitant step forward. That's when he noticed them—bloody footprints. They trailed up the stairs, smeared and uneven, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
His breath hitched. Shit… he escaped.
Panic shot through him, and without thinking, he rushed down the stairs, his boots slamming against the old wooden steps.
CRACK!
One of the rotting stairs gave way beneath him. His foot slipped, his balance shattered. He tumbled down, his body crashing against the hard, unforgiving stone floor. His vision blurred. Pain flared through his skull—then nothing.
The Roles Have Reversed
Splash!
A sudden burst of icy water to the face yanked him back into consciousness.
"Shit… my head hurts…" he groaned, trying to move—only to realize he couldn't. His arms were bound. His legs were strapped to a chair. The cold metal bit into his skin.
That's when he heard it—that voice.
"It's about time you woke up."
His blood ran cold. Slowly, he looked up.
Lesser stood before him, his face cast in shadow, his dark eyes unreadable. The dim glow of a single candle flickered behind him, casting twisted shadows across the stone walls.
The man's breath came in quick, panicked bursts. No. This isn't right.
"Get me out, you fucker!" he barked, trying to mask the unease creeping up his spine.
Lesser tilted his head slightly. His expression remained calm—too calm. Dangerously calm.
"I don't think you're in a position to demand anything."
The man snarled. "I am your goddamn uncle!"
Lesser chuckled, low and quiet. It wasn't the laugh of a child. It wasn't the laugh of someone powerless. It was something else entirely.
"That would be true…" Lesser mused. His gaze sharpened. "But you're not my uncle."
The man's brow furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Lesser exhaled softly, almost as if amused.
"Well… I'm surprised it took me as long as it did… to realize it."
The candlelight flickered. The air seemed to waver. A slow smirk tugged at Lesser's lips.
"To be blunt, this is an illusion."
Lesser sat in the dark, the air thick with the scent of damp wood and rusted iron. His arms rested on the chair's edges, his wrists bound with rope. Across from him, his so-called "uncle" sneered, his face twisted with malice.
"It would be true, but you're not my uncle," Lesser murmured, his voice eerily calm.
The man's expression shifted. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Lesser tilted his head slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest in rhythmic patterns. "It took me longer than expected, but I should have realized it sooner… This is an illusion."
His uncle's scowl deepened. "What kind of nonsense—"
Lesser ignored him, his mind moving faster than his body ever could. Let's break it down.
1. Reality Check—Reading Test
He looked at the old, rotting wooden door in the basement, where a rusty sign hung. It read: "Storage." Lesser blinked. When he looked again, the word had shifted slightly—"Starage."
A smirk formed on his lips. "Text changing when you look away… classic dream phenomenon."
His uncle's face twitched. "What are you mumbling about?"
2. Memory Gaps
Lesser leaned forward slightly. "Here's another flaw. I don't remember how I got here. One moment, I was…" His brows furrowed. Where was I before this? No memory of walking down into the basement, no sequence of events leading up to this moment.
His uncle's eyes darkened, but Lesser pressed on. "Dreams rarely start at the beginning, do they? Just like bad stories."
3. Logical Inconsistencies
He glanced at his hands. His wrists were red, as if he'd been tied up for hours. But he felt no pain, no soreness. That wasn't how the human body worked.
"Interesting," he muttered. "Pain is dulled… another common sign."
4. Emotional Intensity
Then, he considered his emotions. He had spent years under his uncle's cruelty, yet right now, he felt nothing. No fear, no anger—just observation.
Lesser sighed. "If this were real, I'd at least be mildly annoyed."
His uncle slammed his fist against the table. "Enough with your rambling!"
Lesser smirked, looking directly into the man's furious eyes. "You're getting desperate. I must be close to waking up."
5. The Final Test—Reality Break
He took a deep breath, then reached up and pinched his nose shut.
And yet… he could still breathe.
A slow, satisfied grin spread across his face. "Got you."
Lesser's smirk deepened as he watched his uncle's face contort in confusion. The man's rough hands clenched into fists, his breathing growing erratic.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" he bellowed, his voice laced with frustration.
Lesser tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with an unsettling calm.
"You wouldn't understand anyway... but I'm grateful I get to kill you again."
His uncle's expression shifted from rage to something resembling fear, but before he could react, the basement door creaked loudly and then-
SLAM!
The illusion shattered completely.
Lesser's eyes snapped open. Cold air rushed into his lungs as the mist that had engulfed the area dissipated. His body felt heavier, his head throbbing from the intensity of the dream.
He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the sudden shift in reality.
The forest came back into focus.
"What the hell are you doing?" Lesser barked, his voice rough with irritation as he blinked rapidly, trying to gather himself.
Kaiho froze mid-action, startled. He had been poised to give Lesser CPR, assuming the worst. When he saw Lesser's eyes flutter open, relief flooded him.
"Oh, you're awake." Kaiho said, his voice shaky with concern.
But Lesser's tone was icy. "If you would have so much as touched me, I would have killed you."
Kaiho's eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, confusion warred with relief.
In that moment, Lesser's mind raced.
Interesting... how was he able to wake up before me?
Kaiho stood in the dim corridor of the labyrinth, his heart pounding as he stared at Athena's unmoving form. Her eyes, rimmed with tears of blood, glimmered with a seething mix of anger and hatred-a silent scream trapped behind a mask of anguish. Desperation clawed at him.
In that moment, Lesser stepped forward, his gaze cold and calculating. He regarded Kaiho with an emotionless stare before speaking in a low, deliberate tone.
"Looks like I have no choice."
Kaiho jerked his head up, startled. "What?"
Lesser's voice was unyielding as he continued, "I am gonna use a spell to make you enter her mind."
Kaiho's eyes widened in alarm. "Why me?"
A wry smirk played on Lesser's lips as he replied, "Cause it would be a drag for me to do it and maintain the spell at the same time."
Before Kaiho could protest further, Lesser began the incantation. A swirling portal of iridescent light materialized in front of them, its edges crackling with magical energy. With a deep, steadying breath, Kaiho steeled himself and stepped toward the portal, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the illusion, Athena remained trapped in a nightmarish realm. In that twisted space, her tear-streaked face was illuminated by a cruel, crimson glow. The tears that fell were not of sorrow but of burning rage-a manifestation of the deep, unresolved hatred that had taken root within her. Every flicker of her bloodied eyes, every contorted line of anguish, testified to the torment that held her captive.