The Brink

The Lamb God was created as a reflection of the religion Natalie followed. She took reference to multiple others as well. And she often even kept their names.

This world, crafted by the Lamb God, transcends the very confines of our existence.

For me to be here and not instantly perish is purely a testament to his just will an embodiment of mercy tempered by divine authority.

His influence extends beyond mere physical reality, touching every aspect of being, morality, and fate itself.

As the wave of water crashed into me, I felt the very fabric of existence tremble.

The world shifted, and I awoke drenched in white robes, bloodied by my own suffering.

I was in a cave confined and suffocating until I took a step forward.

With each movement, the cave faded into a land of fire, the air thick with heat.

I looked upward and saw myself sitting among clouds, elevated beyond the world's grasp.

Every step I took, every motion I made, was a reminder of the pain endured by humanity an overwhelming tide of sorrow and anguish.

Yet, just as quickly, I found myself back on the cross, nailed in place, bound by suffering.

This was the cost of even seeking his aid a price paid for mere slivers of his power.

The world shifted once again, and I found myself back on the cross.

The pain was overwhelming, every nerve screaming in agony as the nails tore through my flesh.

The sharp metal dug deep, embedding itself into my skin with a cruel relentlessness that refused to ease.

Blood seeped from the wounds, a slow, steady flow that pooled beneath me, staining the white robes that draped my broken body.

Each spike piercing deeper into my flesh was like a spike driven into the core of my soul.

The agony surged through me, a relentless tide that stripped away all strength, leaving only the unbearable weight of suffering.

Suddenly, from the ground beneath me, more spikes began to rise long, jagged steel piercing upward as though the very earth sought to claim me.

They tore through the ground with a deafening sound, each one aiming for my flesh with brutal precision.

One after another, they sank into my body, pushing deeper until the pain was unbearable more than a physical torment, a suffocating reminder of my own vulnerability.

I screamed, though the sound felt distant and hollow.

The spikes didn't relent.

They continued to rise, each one embedding itself into my flesh with merciless cruelty, twisting my body further into agony.

Suddenly, fire erupted around me, flames licking at my skin with merciless intensity.

The white robes caught alight, burning away as the heat intensified, consuming everything in its path.

I screamed once more, the fire searing into my very soul, reducing my body to a smoldering husk.

The agony was unbearable, every breath a searing inferno, as if my very existence was being consumed by the flames.

Just as quickly as the fire appeared, it vanished.

My body, now a charred silhouette, collapsed to the ground.

There was no strength left to stand, only the lingering stench of burning flesh and the relentless ache of my scorched soul.

Then, I was plunged into water endless, cold, suffocating.

The baptismal wave overwhelmed me, dragging me beneath its depths.

The weight of the water pressed against me, pressing the air from my lungs, filling me with a sense of drowning despair.

The cold bit at my very bones, freezing my thoughts as I sank deeper, struggling to reach the surface that felt impossibly distant.

Just as I thought I would be swallowed whole, the water receded, releasing me from its clutches.

I gasped for breath, coughing up saltwater and choking on the bitter taste of despair.

And then, as if gravity itself turned against me, I began to fall.

Faster and faster, I plummeted from the heavens, the sky growing darker with each passing second.

The wind howled around me, a deafening symphony of chaos, while the ground rushed up to meet me with relentless force.

At the last possible moment, my descent slowed, though the impact was still inevitable.

I hit the ground hard, the force sending shockwaves through my shattered body.

Blood spilled from every wound once more, soaking the earth beneath me as I lay there struggling in despair.

Each time I awoke, the cycle began anew.

The same crucifixion, the same spikes piercing my flesh, the same fire consuming my essence, and the same water dragging me into the abyss.

Over and over, the torment never relented.

The pain, the regret, and the despair each emotion dug its claws into my very soul, embedding itself deeper with each cycle.

No matter how many times I endured the crucifixion, the burning, the drowning, the torment never retreated.

It was relentless, a never-ending loop of agony designed to erode what little remained of my sanity.

Each time I fell, I thought I couldn't survive the next round.

Yet, something within me refused to break entirely.

A stubborn resolve clung to my essence, a flicker of defiance in the face of overwhelming suffering.

Even as my mind shattered, even as my body crumbled, a part of me still fought to endure.

But the fire never truly cooled, and the pain never truly dulled.

Each cycle was worse than the last, each wound deeper, each fall heavier.

The world no longer seemed real, and I was no longer sure what was punishment and what was reality.

I regret ever coming to this world.

Every person I met, every moment of fleeting hope, every piece of fleeting strength it was all for nothing.

All I've gained is endless suffering, a cycle of torment without escape.

Damn this world. Damn everyone in it.

But anger fades quickly when faced with pain that runs deeper than rage.

I fell silent, my breath shallow and ragged as the weight of it all crushed down on me. There was no use fighting against the inevitable.

The next cycle began.

Once again, I appeared on the cross, the sharp nails piercing my skin as though my very existence was being torn apart.

But before it could begin again, the Lamb God floated down from the sky.

"Oh, you poor soul, the strife of humanity you truly are riotous," he said softly.

I didn't dare to respond, my voice lost in the weight of my own torment.

He placed his palm on my chest, his expression calm, yet filled with an unsettling wisdom. "You have a lot more to endure. This is nothing compared to your fate."

Then the sequence began again.

And again.

And again.

Again, again, again, again, again.

It was never-ending the pain, the water, the fire, the spikes. Each time more intense, each time more unbearable.

Each cycle stripped away more of who I was, leaving nothing but agony and hollow despair.

The pain was overwhelming, a relentless force that cut deeper with every passing moment.

The spikes drove into my flesh again and again, tearing through muscle and bone with brutal precision.

The fire burned my skin, searing it until it turned to ash, only to have it rise again from the smoke.

The water drowned me, pulling me under until I couldn't breathe, until my lungs screamed for air, only to be dragged down once more.

Each cycle was the same, endless torment. There was no escape, no respite.

The despair gripped me tighter with every repetition, a suffocating weight that refused to lift.

I hated it all the pain, the fire, the spikes. I hated the water, the suffocation, the drowning.

I hated the cycle itself, the never-ending torment that dragged me down into oblivion.

I hated the gods, the world, the very existence that allowed this to happen.

Every breath was a struggle, every moment a reminder of the unbearable agony. I loathed the world, the pain, the suffering it consumed everything I was.

Over and over again, it was the same. Pain, fire, spikes, water it never ended.

Yet, even as the torment surged through my body, a part of me still clung to the desire to protect.

Despite the agony, despite the overwhelming hatred, a tiny flicker of hope refused to be extinguished.

I hated that hope hated how it still whispered to me, urging me to push forward, to endure.

I fought against the pain, against the despair threatening to consume me, but it was a losing battle.

My mind frayed at the edges, each passing moment a test of will.

Every spike, every wave of fire and water chipped away at my sanity, leaving behind only fragments of who I once was.

The regret, the agony, and the hatred built inside me like a storm, a tempest that threatened to break me apart.

Yet, through it all, I held onto the fragile belief that this world still needed saving.

No matter how far I fell into madness, I couldn't let it crumble beneath the weight of those who sought to destroy it.

Still, the line between determination and insanity blurred with each cycle. My thoughts fractured, my emotions slipping further into chaos.

The pain endless, relentless became my only reality, a constant reminder of my failure to protect, to preserve.

I could feel it coming at the final break. My mind was on the brink, hanging by a fragile thread. 

Would I lose this trial and be sent back to that cell?

No. It was then that I finally saw it this wasn't a moment of weakness, not a fleeting glimpse of despair leading to inevitable defeat.

I was a Visionary, weren't I?

Why was I so focused on the present, when the future stretched endlessly before me, waiting to be shaped?

As a fire consumed my body, scorching deeper than the sun's fury, I breathed in deeply.

The searing pain overwhelmed me, but instead of succumbing, I exhaled, a twisted, hollow laugh escaping my lips a terrible, disgusting laugh.

It wasn't just insanity; no, at that moment, I had embraced the abyss of madness completely.

And then… I opened my eyes.

The golden shackles that held me down shattered like brittle branches snapping under the weight of a storm.

The chains disintegrated into fragments of light, dissolving into nothingness as though they had never existed.

I stood, feeling the power coursing through me untethered and wild, as if the world itself had bowed to my will.

I watched as the guards, clad in their gleaming armor, froze in place. Their eyes betrayed their fear.

Through their polished visors, all I could see were wary, uncertain glances, their hands hovering close to their weapons.

I didn't need to speak, but my voice echoed with an otherworldly calm as I shifted my gaze downward.

There, on my palms, etched into the worn, tattered skin, were intricate pathways that wove and pulsed with a life of their own.

They resembled veins, but more deeper, more profound, pulsating with raw energy.

And as they moved, they merged into a smile a disturbing, unsettling smile.

"You all… take me to your king."

I didn't wait for a response. Instead, I walked through the cell, my movements deliberate, almost mechanical.

I consider myself quite lucky—choosing the Visionary Order.

Each Order possesses a multitude of abilities, and as a Visionary, I was granted the power to shape and control the future.

Granted, I hadn't fully reached that level of power yet, but my future self had.

With the Lamb God's power, I had truly become something more.

I was a Prophet, and as a Prophet, I was entitled to glimpse into the future.

All I had to do was erase myself my past and force myself into a future mindset.

I chuckled as the guards fell to their knees, their voices trembling in desperation as I walked past them.

I hadn't lost much. I looked around and saw that I was underground, though exactly where wasn't clear.

Judging by the empty suits of armor kneeling before me, I could only guess that I was still within the kingdom.

It felt odd, being so powerful.

All it took was a fragment of the Lamb God's essence, and those who once held me in contempt were no more.

Their superiority crumbled, consumed by my newfound strength.

I stared down the long tunnel stretching beyond, the shadows stretching endlessly. I had teetered on the brink of insanity.

Yet even with that, I forced a dreadful smile.