"Haah!" I gasped as my eyes shot open.
The first thing I saw was this:
[Second Trial: The Torment of Self]
Objective: Defeat the one who forgot.
Note: Once YOU die, your soul will be stuck in eternal limbo forever, as the one you fight is...
Huh?
The second trial already?
I sat up.
"Defeat the one who forgot," I muttered, then frowned.
The one who forgot?
Hm.
I looked at the title of the trial.
The Torment of Self.
The one who forgot.
The torment of… self.
The one… who forgot.
Self.
Tch.
Something doesn't feel right about this.
I looked around.
A… building.
That was what came into view beyond the interface.
A huge building, with smaller extensions on either side.
A school.
I was sure of it.
Why?
"Brilliance Academy," I muttered.
I know this school.
I've been here before.
I looked around again.
The concrete ground mixed with patches of grass.
The football court, way off by the corner.
The others should be behind the main building.
I turned around.
A gate.
Beyond it, empty streets and silent buildings.
I faced forward again and stood up, letting out a sigh.
But then I noticed something.
"What the hell?"
I had… skin.
I was in human form.
Why?
Last time, I was just a shadow in the shape of a human.
I rushed toward the reflective windows at the front of one of the smaller school buildings.
I looked at my reflection.
"Black hair… brown eyes," I muttered.
It looked normal. I was young, probably sixteen, maybe seventeen.
This doesn't make sense.
What makes it even more disturbing is how familiar this face feels—
Yet… I can't remember.
"Damn it," I was about to say—but someone else said it.
Wait.
That wasn't me.
I looked to the side.
My gaze fell on a figure.
A shadowed figure which, in an instant…
Turned.
It stared at me.
And just then—
[The one who forgot,]
I saw it.
It tilted its head strangely. I frowned.
I took a step forward. It didn't move.
I glanced around, searching.
Anything.
A weapon.
Anything to end this godforsaken mission here and now.
But—
There was nothing.
It was only then that I realized I was in a school uniform.
I looked forward again.
The figure—
Gone.
Damn it.
I looked around in a panic.
Nothing.
I rushed ahead, and that's when I noticed—
The main gate of the school building was wide open.
I took a hesitant step forward.
I gulped.
This is a problem.
Whatever that shadow thing is, it has intelligence.
If that's the case, I'm in hot water.
I stepped forward. Another step. Another.
Eventually, I was at the door—
Open, as though the figure had rushed in and hadn't even bothered to close it behind.
That or...
I stepped in.
BAMMMMMMM!
I jumped back.
Just as I had feared—
Something came flying from behind.
A huge chair, which shattered into pieces as it slammed into the floor.
"Fuck!"
I panicked and jumped back again—
But the figure was already there, grabbing one of the broken chair legs—now a sharp spike—
And it rushed at me with deadly intent.
I was weaponless—wait.
I kicked the door with all my strength.
It bounced, slamming into the figure's arm.
I dove in and grabbed one of the wooden spikes—
But before I could strike, it had already swung at me.
BAM!
Damn it!
My shoulder—
It felt dislocated.
I didn't retaliate.
Instead, I ran for the stairs.
DOOM!
Something struck the back of my head.
I stumbled.
My skull slammed into the first step.
"ARGH!"
I felt dizzy.
With great effort, I turned.
It had picked up something metallic—
From God knows where—
And was charging at me.
I gritted my teeth, forced myself to my feet, and staggered up the stairs.
Suddenly—
TWASH!
Something slammed just over my head.
I ducked and kept running.
I had to create some distance.
Fast.
I ran. And ran. And ran—
Then stopped.
"Haah… haa… hahaaa… haaa…"
I looked around.
A corridor.
I quickly grabbed my bleeding shoulder and smeared blood on the handle of a nearby door.
Then, I crossed to the opposite side and quietly opened another door, careful not to stain it.
I slipped inside.
With a quick kick, I slammed the door shut behind me.
"Damn… haah… haa…" I panted.
For a moment there… I was almost killed.
Sighing, I looked up.
A classroom.
A green board at the front.
Rows of desks facing it.
At the back of the room, a poster.
Wait—
A sweeping roster.
"Angel… Emil," I muttered, reading the names.
I walked closer.
"Fred… Ukko… Kieran…"
Why?
Why do they sound so familiar?
I touched the roster, and just then, my eyes fell on a name.
"Becky," I muttered.
Then my gaze shifted to the Thursday sweepers.
"Quincey… Quincey Moren?"
Hm.
Suddenly—
I remembered.
And then—
I saw it.
Larson.
Thud!
A footstep.
I looked around.
Pen.
Chalk.
Board.
Desks with attached chairs.
Nothing useful.
"Fuck," I whispered.
I rushed to the teacher's desk.
Grabbed two pens.
Tiptoed to the door.
Twisted the knob.
It creaked open—slowly.
I peeked through the narrow gap.
A shadow appeared—
Then the figure came into view.
Holding a metal pole.
Where did it get that from?
Wait—
The storage room.
Tch.
It must've checked the classroom before this one.
Now, it stood in front of the room directly opposite mine.
It touched the knob.
Saw the blood.
Then—
It reached out.
Yes.
The moment it opened that door, I'd rush out and—
"Huh?"
In that instant—
It froze.
As if realizing something.
And then—
It turned.
Our eyes met.
Fuck me.