Worthy

No one was able to do a damn thing. Wilma gasped and staggered back, blood splattering. She couldn't speak, her larynx torn apart. It was a miracle she was breathing at all. She tried to hold it back. Blood spilled and she fell to her knees. Slowly, Dasha turned toward Samantha whose expression was full of fear, her magic circle dwindling away from the sudden lack of flowing mana.

"Your focus broke, Samantha," Dasha noted casually, ignoring the gargles of Wilma. "You're the same as before."

A wicked, irate grin spread across Samantha. "And you haven't changed one bit, you arrogant, emotionless bastard." She once again began drawing a magic circle. Halfway through, it broke down. She tried again. Fail. Again. She was met with failure. With failure came fear. "Haa…why isn't it working! Come on, come on!"

Dasha appeared in front of her and grabbed her wrist. Her attempts at ripping away from him failed. She was forced to look up into the one-eyed man; the man that she despised above all others. The man that saw through her and betrayed her without a moment's notice. "You're shaking," he said. "You're afraid."

His grip tightened and broke her wrist, her wand slipping from her fingers. A shriek echoed.

"Do you think I'm going to keep you alive?" Dasha asked. She tried to stand her ground and fight back with her legs, to no avail. He was an impossible mountain that she could not topple. "I would like an answer."

"N-no…" Samantha's shoulders shook. She squirmed, hammering at his hand. He wasn't letting go, he wasn't granting mercy, and her eyes swelled up. "Wait! Wait, wait, wait!" Dasha was about to tear her wrist off. Her eyes went wider and wider, her voice becoming as high and desperate as her pathetic soul. "Wait! Please, please! Hold on!"

His feet shifted every so slightly. His gauntlets could have snapped her neck but...

'Something is off.'

The soil was wetter than he recalled. Samantha was more tired and panicked than he expected too. "How long have you been here?" he asked.

"W-what?" At this point, she was hanging off his taut grip. "How long—? Nnngh, t-ten days! Ten!"

Ten days? Moreover, even though the mist was weak, it was still here. He had destroyed all the redwood trees which he presumed was its source. So what was happening here?

"Has the main objective been cleared?"

"N-no! No!" Samantha dropped to her knees, blood sliding down her arm. "Please! Please! I-I—!"

'That damn Administrator.' Dasha inhaled sharply. 'Open mission objectives.'

[ Gate 13 : Silent Forest

Main Objective: Incomplete. Return in 30 days.

Prize Pool: ?

SPECIAL OBJECTIVE: Incomplete. Return in 30 days.

SPECIAL PRIZE POOL: ? ]

'Thales did something. He didn't undo my efforts, he made them impossible to do. The trees are back, the Will-o-wisps are likely back, and I bet even if I do what I did before, it won't give me the rewards I want. That means…I'm stuck here. For a whole month.'

Dasha looked up. The sky was covered by the mist. Somewhere out there, within the confines of the Heavenly Tower, Thales of Miletus was sealed. Watching him. Laughing at him. Wasting his fucking time. That was the greatest transgression anyone could do to him—waste his time.

In that moment of hate, his vision went white and he released Samantha.

"Ngh!"

Within the white mist, he saw a woman in white Templar armour, arm outstretched and displaying the mismatched rings on her gloves fingers. He knew this woman. It was Saint Hildegard. She spoke but he couldn't understand her.

"...mbuuf... spaasl... nhtlz... wyvwly... ylk... npunly... aopjr... nsbl... jhu'a... bzl..."

The language was mistranslating? What? The veins on his wrists bulged and his brain was injected with words and images that didn't make sense to him. A knife, a battlefield, and...Saint Hildegard?

"Ylk... pur... mpa... jspw... shkf'z... lhyz... zluk... wvspjl... qvssf... Rllw... slaaly..."

"...ipa... tvyl... dvyr... npcl... vba... rupml... upjl... zohyw... nla... johujl..."

"Dl tbza jylhal il ylhkf mvy OPZ dvysk!"

"Tf uhtl pz Hzoly Aylua!"

This wasn't her voice. This was his. This was Jack the Ripper.

But then, at last, he heard her speak.

"You are not worthy."

It caused his blood to freeze cold and his brain to throb. Him? Not worthy? Who was she to deem him unworthy? But then he remembered that he was Dasha Pang. He was not Jack. These words were not geared toward him. 'This damn mask…! Get off!'

He tossed Samantha wayside and stumbled forward, a hand holding his temple. He winced again, his mind flooded with agitating memories that did not belong to him. He whipped his head to the side, hearing blood splatter, only to see the mist again.

The mist. The mist. The mist. Everywhere seemed the same with the mist!

'These aren't my thoughts! What in the world is—nnngh!'

"Everyone has a role. You cannot ask me to do what you may be destined to do."

"Are you saying I must pursue it myself?"

"Tell me, will you pursue it if I do not?"

"...yes."

"You have your answer, Jack."

'Get out!' Dasha ordered. 'Get out of my head!'

Jack and Samantha and everyone else in this world. He was talking to them all. Get away! These players were a complete waste of his time! He needed to heal. He needed to meditate. He needed to calm down and get rid of these memories. If he was going to be trapped here, he needed to take something from this. Samantha, Dee, Caleb, Liam, and Wilma were too weak to care for right now. Spare them or kill them, it did not matter.

"The stories you tell to the children...why do you do so?"

Jack sat in a dark room talking to someone. Someone mightier than himself. Someone who he deemed to be worthy like him. 

"For them to remember."

Dasha saw the corpses of slaughtered Templars in a line. He saw their blood dripped from his own knife. 

"For them all to be worthy...that will be Project Endless Kupala Night. —'s hair, Divine Essences of —, a weapon of —, and Apeiron! Once I have it all, it will all be right. It will not be like this.' 

They weren't worthy.

Dasha Pang woke up again. He didn't know how long the memories had rendered him immobile but even an instant was too long. 

He cast a glance at Wilma who was still holding onto her throat, Dee who was crawling back to her feet, and Caleb who was also regaining consciousness. Samantha lay at his feet, tending to her destroyed wrist.

No one had noticed.

Another memory raged at him. Dasha winced and walked back. This battle truly was fruitless. Dasha turned his back to them, his nerves crackling with black energy and his mind burning with memories not his own, and disappeared into the mist.

All the while Samantha stared after him with burning vengeance.