Welcome back, everyone! Phew, this chapter ended up being longer than expected. That, plus the fact I had an exam last week are the reasons why it took me so long to finish it. Before we start, I'd like to thank our Guest for reviewing the last chapter, and in response to it:

"I don't plan on starting a new story any time soon, so that's a pass."

In life, everything comes with a price.

Responsibility. Beauty. Power. Family. Want. Life goal. Fame. Mistake. Freedom. Knowledge. Immortality. Belief. Life itself.

And the price to pay isn't always money.

Sadly, the Mythorrors know that better than anyone. And sadly, they also know the true terror behind those words.

A young man of unimaginable beauty was sitting on top of a rock in the middle of a small lake and singing a long-forgotten song. Although he had a human body, he was by no means one, which was made obvious by his pointy ears and the patches of fish-like scales that covered his inhumanly pale skin here and there. Not to mention, he wasn't bothered by the cold air at all, even though he was naked.

Singing was the only thing he enjoyed doing in this world, here, at his lake, and alone.

He didn't have a family; spirits like him aren't born from a love affair, but rather they have their existence tied to something, in his case, this lake. He didn't have friends; he liked to be alone, so he never bothered meeting other spirits. If he gets bored of singing, he would swim to tire himself out and then he would go to sleep.

His life was plain and uneventful and he liked it that way.

A twig suddenly snapped, causing the water spirit to immediately stop singing and look in the direction the sound came from, making his silky hair tangled with seaweed sway a little. His light blue eyes narrowed when he saw a young man, who was staring back at him with widened eyes.

The water spirit was so engrossed in his activity that he didn't notice the human approaching his lake, while the human was so bewitched by the angelic voice which drew him here that he didn't see the twig he stepped on.

How much did he have to go out of his way to get here? the water spirit thought in annoyance. He knew there was a village one- or was it two?- hours away from the lake, but no one ever ventured so far out.

The human scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed chuckle, prompting the water spirit to raise an eyebrow. The human explained to him he got lost in the forest while searching for berries and the water spirit's voice guided him here. To prove to him he was telling the truth, he showed him his basket, indeed filled with berries.

Clumsy idiot. was the first thing the water spirit thought. Not that it matters; even if the villagers knew of his existence, they're incapable of ending his life...unless they dried out the entire lake, which he doubted they could do. But it's still annoying to know unwanted guests will become more frequent.

After pointing out the road back to the village to the human, the water spirit expected him to run away and leave him alone again, but...he stayed. He even said his voice was beautiful and introduce himself; Swen was his name.

That was...the first time someone had commented on his singing, in addition to saying such a nice thing about it. That caused the spirit's annoyance to degrade a little...and joy to blink in him.

Unbeknown to him, a ghost of a smile graced his face. What a weird idiot. he corrected his earlier thought. He had no idea if he's dangerous or not, but instead of fleeing as any sane person would do, this human chose to stay.

But that's not all. He would then continue to return to his lake, every day, first thing in the morning. And each day he would remind the spirit how beautiful his voice was, to the point that, after a week, he admitted the spirit himself was beautiful.

He's sure he said that by mistake because Swen blushed profusely and choked on air before trying to explain himself. In order to satisfy his curiosity, the spirit said he thought Swen was beautiful too, and as he expected, the human turned bright red, eliciting a long laugh from the spirit.

At that moment, the spirit realized...he liked this weird idiot. And he wanted to spend more time with him. Being with Swen...gave him more joy than singing.

It was unbelievable. It should've been impossible. Starting a romantic relationship with a human, disguising himself as a human so he could mingle into Swen's village, interacting with others by leaving his lake... It was all so surreal.

But the spirit never took his new life seriously. Why should he? Swen will eventually die of old age like his mother, or maybe in a war like his father, and eventually, the entire village will die because humans are ephemeral creatures. For an immortal spirit like him, this was but a simple distraction, an unusual way to spend his time.

Then why...

There wasn't a meaningful reason for the spirit to return to his lake. As long as it continues to exist, even if they're on two different sides of Earth, the spirit continues to exist as well. But by staying apart, he will slowly lose a portion of his supernatural powers, like the ability to manipulate water or the magic in his voice just to name a few.

And like any other spirit, this water spirit detested the thought of losing what made him a supernatural being in the first place. So he and Swen came up with a plan: each night, he returns to his lake to replenish his strength, and at the crack of dawn, he returns to the village with a basket full of fruits or a bucket filled with water to avoid arousing suspicion.

The plan proved to be successful, they were able to fool the villagers for months. The unexpected happened when Swen was stealthily murdered one night by some burglars.

Swen's house could be found at the village's outskirts, a little distant from the other houses. There were rumors about "hit-and-run burglars" attacking people at night in other villages as well, and the spirit was contemplating returning to his lake or not, but Swen reassured him he'll be fine and they shouldn't worry about some rumors.

The spirit exhaled as he laid down on the lake floor. This is where his little distraction comes to an end, huh... Well, whatever. He knew this day will come sooner or later anyway.

Then why am I feeling sad? he concluded his earlier thought. He expected to feel irritation when Swen will die and he'll have to return to his monotonous life, not sadness. Yes, because it was supposed to be a distraction. Nothing more, nothing less. It was nothing more than a weird pass time.

Then...why? Why does it hurt so much? the spirit cried, but his tears were lost in the lake's water. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, but the pain won't go away. Not after a day, not after a week, not even after a month. He didn't feel like doing anything. All he could do was mutter his boyfriend's name and cry...and curse his own foolishness and voice.

He should've never listened to Swen. He should've stayed there with him and defend him, or die while doing it. Why did he have to die? Swen deserved better. A better end and a better boyfriend, not an idiot water spirit who couldn't put his beloved's safety before his own pride.

He came to hate his voice. The only thing that gave him joy before meeting Swen became a hindrance. After all, if it wasn't for his voice, he would never have met Swen, who then died because of the spirit's foolishness and made him sink into an endless abyss of regret and sadness.

"I don't need it!" the spirit screamed one night while clenching his throat to the point it hurt. "Take it! Take it away! It's all yours! I DON'T NEED IT ANYMORE!"

He screamed, screamed, and screamed until his voice was damaged. But he didn't care. He was glad. He didn't need his damned voice anyway.

Thus the spirit continued to live alone on the lake bed and mourned his lost boyfriend, not caring about the sand and the seaweed that eventually covered his entire body and made him look like a mindless monster.

He had to pay the price for something he never asked. I thought, which was the only thing I could do since the Vision prohibited me from moving or talking and forced me to watch yet another Mythorror fall into despair. His beauty, his voice, even Swen's love... Why did he have to suffer for things he never asked for?

As if to remind me he wasn't the only Mythorror who was mistreated by life, the location of the Vision changed in the blink of an eye. This time, I was standing at the base of a mountain beside a young girl who was hiding behind a bush, watching a small group of kids play in the open.

Her orange cat eyes stared at the kids attentively and the cat ears on top of her head and the two tails emerging from her waist twitched whenever they laughed. The face she was making made it pretty obvious she wanted to join them, to play with them, to laugh with them, and to make friends with them.

She was about to step out of her hiding place when she suddenly froze in place. What am I doing? it sounded more like a scolding than a question, directed at herself for almost exposing herself to these humans. She took a step back as her ears and tails dropped, and she continued to watch them.

She can't approach them. She can't play or laugh with them. She can't be friends with them. After all, they're humans, and she's a yōkai.

Humans hate and fear her kind. They say her kind eats humans, has the power to raise the dead from their eternal slumber as their servants, and they disguise themselves as humans in order to lure them into a trap.

The young yōkai confesses that's true. She ate humans to survive, she controlled the dead, and she abducted humans from time to time. But she never enjoyed doing any of that.

The taste of human flesh was the only thing that didn't make her throw up. Other types of meat, fruits, vegetables, the flesh of deceased people—she tried everything just to avoid hurting humans, but alas, her body didn't accept anything else. She didn't want to die out of hunger, thus she was forced to hunt those she wanted to befriend. I was disgusted by the irony of it all.

She knew her actions were horrible and she hated herself for performing them, even if it was a means to survive, but was it really her fault? Was it her fault for being a yōkai? She never asked for this...

A woman came to usher the kids back home, and the yōkai watched them leave with a longing expression. That's the type of life she wanted: a happy and normal life, not one where she has to hide from humans and live in solitude.

She didn't want to hurt anyone. She didn't want to be feared. Why did she have to be a yōkai? She wasn't living anymore but trying her best to survive while suffering. Why, gods? Why...!?

Tears began falling from the yōkai's eyes and she ran away in the opposite direction.

Wait! I cried out in my mind and tried to reach out for her—only to find myself staring at the ceiling of my room, a hand outstretched at it.

The Mythorrors...had to pay the price for something they never asked, and some of them came to hate what they obtained or who they were. In a way, the same happened to me: I never asked for these Visions, and I too have a price to pay for it, namely to see and to feel my Monsters' pain. But...I'm glad I obtained this power. I really am, because it's unfair how much these poor and innocent Monsters had to suffer and that no one tried to help them in the past.

I won't let that repeat itself.

I...will do everything in my power in order to create a better future for the Mythorrors!