M Rating will be used this chapter, be warned!

For minutes, or probably hours, Viscus sat in the same place, unmoving; his face was coated in shadow, the top of his head taking the brunt of the weak light coming from above. There were no signs of movement beyond, as if he was a statue simply staring at the undecorated gray concrete floor below. There was some effort in trying to ignore the never-ending stream of pop ups and blue screens, but they tapered off after a short period of time, most likely out of news to deliver. It made the silence more bearable, because it was all he wanted at that moment.

While his eyes were closed shut, all of what his mind could conjure were questions prefixed with "Why?"- Why him, why now? Why not someone more capable, someone stronger, someone more durable and experienced? Viscus couldn't help but stutter a breath as he went on. He did not see himself as superhero material, he actually had other goals in mind: become a scientist, invent new things, and have fun with his friends and family.

"..." His family and friends, how were they doing? He was out for days now, his room in a horrible state if his memory was to be trusted. They would probably be worrying about him, notifying police and searching everywhere they could. After all, from the state of his room, he was most likely kidnapped, but not without a fight. In reality, that was as close to the truth as they could truly get.

Unconsciously, he trembled. Imagining their faces, their reactions, their trepidation, their desperation, it terrified him. He could see it, his parents seated in the living room, his blond mother holding back her tears while his black haired father endured worry along with comforting the poor lady. The blond clenched his hand, a sign of weakness he was holding back struggling to break out.

It hurt, especially when he was powerless to do anything about his current situation. He couldn't go back home, he was trapped in a world full of aliens and monsters alike, with the only gateway back held behind an insurmountable wall. An insurmountable wall that did not bother to give him more than a handful of items and the title of murderer to his name. The adolescent relaxed his hand and released a sigh, his breath unsteady.

It was official, his life was over. No matter what, someone, somewhere, was going to kick him down at his lowest points. What would happen once he escaped this hole? Would he magically find himself filled with strength enough to topple this world and come back home, or would he find more pain and suffering? Even more so, he doesn't doubt the fact that if he did manage to escape, the road laid in front of him was to be crossed with a river of blood trailing behind him, but was that worth it?

Was it worth the effort to go back home? He had already taken down 3 inhabitants of this world in cold blood - was that his destiny? Viscus weakly disagreed, "No, I'm done." It was a done deal. "I give up." And he couldn't help but feel relief behind those words. It didn't make sense for him, Viscus Lime, to go on a warpath just to "go home" - and would the System even send him back home? The blond couldn't remember a single word related to sending him back.

As if to interrupt his thoughts, one of the prisoners blasted the room full of his spit, the sneeze nearly blowing the blond's ear drums. A few muttered blessings from some of the other prisoners were the only other words spoken before silence took place once more, but Viscus did not care anymore.

Even if the System tried filling his vision with notifications, even if a part of his mind was hopeful and repeatedly summoning optimistic thoughts out of nowhere like "Come on Viscus, you can do it!", he didn't believe even winning was possible. Who was he even going against? If it's "a millenia old dilemma", then he was quite sure it involved two immortal beings, both of which were in a league far above him. Where one simply inhabits a new body once his old one gives, the other embodies the aspects of invulnerability and immortality in one, that's not even considering their minds sharpened by centuries of warfare.

Would he even have a chance? What about the characters around them? Would he even be able to beat their soldiers, their chess pieces? The more he thought about it, the bleaker his future seemed, but that was a future that assumed he lived that far. He already felt numb at the odds against him, and to think he was even filled with optimism after beating the bandits and the Grimm. "No, Viscus, you can't do it." He was naive, filled with misplaced enthusiasm.

A huff left his mouth along with a shake of the head. How dumb was he to even think he had an ounce of ability. He hugged his knees a bit tighter as his mind cleared of any thoughts. There was no more to think about, the solution was found, and it was to give up, to stop trying. Viscus was not going to fight anymore, he had no more willpower to fuel him, and that was fine. That would be the end of it, and that was the best outcome.

The sound of scraping of cloth on rough floor entered his ear, but he didn't react. It kept approaching him before stopping a step away. "Hey," It whispered, but the blond didn't react. Another call came after, yet no response. The owner of the voice took it as its cue to move away, but not before leaving behind its passing words. "The Blues don't abandon each other. Stay strong."

The young man didn't let the words enter his mind, opting to refute it inwardly. "Help will never come." It never did. At that moment, all Viscus wanted was to relax his body and sleep. Maybe when he woke up, he would be out of this world, in one form or another. It didn't take long for his head to bob downward, letting gravity take its hold, while unconsciousness claimed him.

-CEM-

Yawning, I glared at the book in my hands, the words under the laws of physics making little sense, their letters seemingly swapping places at random. "This is dumb." I scratched my head after I placed the book between my laps, sighing at the futility of my actions.

I couldn't help but rest my head back on the couch, shutting my eyes while trying to break down whatever I had been reading. "Doesn't make sense." A vocal conclusion to my issue, and one that couldn't be debated. As I lost myself in my thoughts, a weight suddenly fell on the couch, deforming the cushion.

Thinking I might have an idea who is responsible, I crack one lid open and find a lady reading the book that was just on my lap. Her blond hair and blue eyes were enough details to let me safely shut my eyes again, though that didn't stop her from humming out loud. "How could this not make sense?" I frowned and righted my head toward her. "You're a physics teacher, it should make sense to you, not me." A huff sounded from me, eliciting a smirk from her. "Sure, sure."

"I'll get it solved, eventually." I grumbled while folding my arms, but she didn't seem convinced, her eyes narrow. "If you say so." Her mouth uttered words that were in contrast to her expression, though. There was a tinge of humor in her voice, but I couldn't help but go silent as she stared at me with a warm azure gaze.

Speechless, I blinked at her half hidden face behind the book, a feeling of embarrassment filling me. "L-let me read it again." I hurriedly stole the book from her hands and directed my sight at the puzzles written inside, another attempt at making sense of them. I was probably being lazy, and would understand it quicker than she would explain it, right?

"..." We both sat in silence, though I'm pretty sure this book was making fun of me. "You've been on this page for quite a bit, do you think you understand it well?" Irritated, I hurriedly flipped to another page, in spite of the fact that I...I... "No.. I didn't understand it." I gave up and flipped back to the beginning of the chapter before handing the book back to her, and she responded with a mirthful chuckle.

I didn't have to even specify which part was difficult (all of it) while she just smiled. A quick cough and she was in her tutoring mode, one that was all-too familiar. She scooted closer while angling the book in a way that both of us could read, and she began her session. Whatever puzzle was inside the cursed book was fastedly on its way to disentanglement, and for that, I had to concentrate.

For one reason or another, it felt more like concepts filling my brain than words, though I may or may not have needed her to repeat certain parts to get the full picture. Mom was smart, way smarter than anyone I met in my life, and it showed. She knew how to make me understand, and it was always fun for both of us.

The way the words flew out of her mouth like a blur, the way she drew with her arms in the air to illustrate her points, they helped me make sense of whatever she was teaching, and none of it felt out of place. In fact, the scene was familiar, homely, and it made me feel safe - and why wouldn't it? I hadn't forgotten the many times since my goo-goo-gaa-gaa days where she would tutor me, or read stories and explain their nuances.

Midway through her tutoring, though, I couldn't help but feel a stinging burn in the corner of my eyes. Nothing appeared strange or different, but her focused gaze, her soft voice, they provoked something, and she noticed. "Are you alright?" I blinked, the sensation remaining, but the cause still unknown. I tried to formulate a reply, but the words got stuck in my throat, and my eyes heated up further.

"I.." Am I alright? Why wouldn't I be? I'm at home, with my mom, and all I'm doing currently is studying physics. Why wouldn't I be alright? "I.." A gasp escaped my lips at that moment, but that wasn't a gasp, it was a sob. "I-I'm.." The urge to 'let go' became heightened, yet I wouldn't 'let go' without a reason. Normal breaths became quick and shallow, and the way she looked at me with care, with visible concern and frustration at what she was seeing, it made me feel like something was wrong, but I couldn't see anything.

"If you have a headache right now, we can continue later." Her words were spoken softly, but I couldn't respond to her. It was as if the gears of my mind were grinding to a halt as a metaphorical wrench stabbed in between them. Teeth clenched, eyes shut, and a touch, no, a caress? The horrifying sensations began melting away, like water flowing down through a dam, giving me just enough time to open my eyes and stare at the cause.

Where my mom should have sat was someone else. Male with cuts in his clothes and dried red paint all over one half of his face extending to his back. Hurriedly, I pulled myself away and he blinked at me in confusion, but I just jumped away from the couch, my breath hitching. "Huh?" I shook at the dissonance between the voice and the source, the sound resembling that of my mother, but the body clearly not.

And my eyes began itching once again, my breath speeding up as if I was sprinting, running for my life, yet I was standing still, only blinking, only shaking. My eyes glanced around, the room not looking any different from what I know, but it didn't click. "This isn't right." I choked, frustration began to set in. My hands, my arms, they were trembling, but on a closer look, they weren't the only parts doing that.

Legs threatened to give out, but I wouldn't, I couldn't, when that man was still staring at me, his gaze just.. Not right. As we stared at each other, I heard my teeth clatter in spite of my struggles to keep them steady. My face was twitching, and the man looked as if he was about to stand up, only for a ring to freeze him.

The doorbell was ringing, and the man eerily asked with a voice not belonging. "Were you expecting someone?" And the knowledge came to me. I was expecting someone, a friend, and I couldn't help but hurry off to let him in. I just had to leave, move away from this room, but I just didn't know why. And I didn't have to know why, simply that my friend was waiting, and I had to answer.

My legs carried me to the doorway, the walls painted in blue making me feel like a fish deep in the ocean, swimming to the depths, toward the door. My body began to feel heavier, seemingly as if the water was adding pressure on me the deeper I went, and my legs began dragging. Each breath became laborious, each step became a monumental achievement, while my eyes were still fighting to 'let go', but I was finally there.

I was finally deep enough to touch the sand, where the door stood, just one lift of my arm would let me grab onto the knob, but it was a struggle. I groaned, my voice hoarse, the action filling me with pain, and my arm tensed as if it was lifting the heaviest of weights at the gym, and then some more. The muscles bulged, the knob got into my hand, and then came the turn.

A click, and the door opened, a door that hid the outside behind it, and my friend too. It creaked, slowly turning to show me what was behind, but my eyes were blurry. Blinking didn't help, but I could barely spot a human figure with their hand raised to wave a hello, with something behind, a view I couldn't describe.

Yet, the figure froze mid action, their expression undecipherable, or more specifically, unrecognizable. "Are you alright?" And then came that question again, but I knew the answer. "I.. am fine." Nevertheless, the figure didn't move as I dragged the door open, and I felt a touch on my arm, the middle part of my right forearm. "Why does it look like this, then?" I blinked, my neck creaking as it righted my head to face where he tapped, and, with my weakened vision, I saw bone. Red and bone, as if someone cut out a section of the meat at that part, dividing the forearm into two halves with nary but bone in between.

I shuddered, my eyes trembling, and a scream followed. I heard a second scream not of my voice, but I didn't, couldn't, focus on it. My arm, why was it like this, why was the bone exposed, why was there blood, why did it hurt? I spun in place, and the doorway changed. I ignored my friend and stared at the white walls, at the walls with splotches of red, at the floor with pools of red surrounding unmoving people. Dead people.

Nothing was making sense, it just wasn't. Where am I, why was this happening, and why did my eyes burn so much? Why did my breath hitch? It must have been my arm, but I just knew it wasn't. What happened to the doorway? Why was it like this? "Mom?" I called out, and I heard footsteps. Closer, and closer they came, but when they should have revealed mom, no one appeared. "M-mom?"

I disregarded the state of my body and stepped forward, my legs walking over the bodies, my eyes ignoring the red, the splashes, but the doorway was seemingly extending. Whenever I took a step forward, I felt myself dragged back toward the door, and it didn't take long for me to stop. "Ugh." I gagged and hacked, a smell so unbearable, so nauseating, but it wasn't enough to stop me. "C-c'mon V-" Suddenly, I tripped, yet there was no floor below me.

My vision swam as I tumbled and fell, my body crashing into something sharp repeatedly, but my eyes were too blurry to recognize what was happening. It was only a few seconds later before my body finally landed, this time dropping on my back into a pool of foul liquid. Slowly, I raised my head to look around, and I saw stairs from whence I fell, where there were red footsteps in spite of my ungraceful descent.

Wincing, I attempted to right myself upward, my arms struggling, my torso aching, but I had enough strength in me to get up, albeit shaking. I glanced at my right arm, the previously exposed bone instead covered by meat as it should, yet with a crusted layer of red painted all over. With a shake of my head, I took a gulp, feeling my dry throat force itself to swallow as my eyes spotted a small orange glow in a short distance, with a dark horizontal figure casting a shadow over my side.

Pushing myself off the floor, I groaned and took two unsteady steps before nearly falling, the ground wet enough to force me to take slow and calm steps. With a shaky breath, I dragged my feet forward, compelled to inspect the scene in front of me like a moth to a flame. But it was not meant to be.

My throat tightened, a wheeze dragging itself out of my throat as I was thrust back into the wet surface, my face sinking into it, my arms sliding as if to stop me from getting myself up. Despite being underwater, I didn't feel like I was drowning, but the smell, the stench, it was suffocating. I flailed about to lift myself up, but it was like I lost all my power, as if it was seemingly being sapped away.

Only, there was respite, I grasped onto something ahead of me, something solid and rough enough to give me the opportunity to pull myself up, to drag my head out of the pool, and with a wet splash, I did. The world was spinning, my hands were slipping, but I had to stand up, to look, and I was so close.

My eyes widened once I realized where I was. I wasn't just close, I was at the foot of the horizontal figure, but it wasn't 'a horizontal figure'. The words, the thoughts, the breaths - my heart, everything came to a screeching halt once I realized who I was staring at.

My mom, my mother, her eyes exposed, her mouth gaping, with blood draining out of her neck like an endless fountain, filling the room from side to side. "No.." I shoved the wet floor and went up with a splatter, my bones groaning at the suddenness of the action, but I didn't care. "M-mom.." I hurriedly lifted her body to put her into a seated position, uncaring of the blood streaming down my arms and underneath my clothes.

"Why..?" I did not bother holding back my tears as they came down streaming, my arms trembling doubly from the weight of supporting her, and the deep stabbing pain I felt seeing her in such a state. It was then I felt a weight in my right hand, something I grasped tightly, holding on for dear life. I expected it to be her hand, but it wasn't.

A bloodied dagger with red sliding down from the tip of the blade down to the handle, a blade with a size resembling that of the injuries in the nape of her neck. "D-did.." Was it me.. Was I.. Did I.. Kill her?

In disgust, in betrayal, I threw the dagger out of my hand into the distance, but I couldn't see it fly, nor hear a splash of it dropping into the red pool below. Trembling, I stared back at my hand, the hand that refused to let go of the weapon, of the object that killed her. "Then.." The bodies lying in the doorway were also bleeding.. "W-was that also.."

I stared at the blade, mysteriously cleaner and shining back at me. A reflection. A bloodied reflection of a blond, his face and hair smeared in deep dark red, with two hollow brown eyes staring back at me.

"There… is no mistake.." Something fell heavily into the pool with a splash, the blood wetting my dried skin once again. Another glint caught my eye, an object in my left hand. A gun. I stepped back immediately, retreating backward, away from where I stood. "I did this.."

I was back at the doorway, but it was back to normal. Blue walls, no blood, no bodies, the only exception was that my friend wasn't here, instead there was silence, a degree of silence so quiet that I could hear my heart beat loudly, drumming in my ear, threatening to beat out of my chest. "..." The words I wanted to speak didn't come out, but it wouldn't have mattered.

A droplet of water fell loudly onto the floor below me as I stared at the ceiling, my mind following in the footsteps of the environment and going silent. I grasped the objects in my hand, yet I only felt my fingers dig into my palm. There was no need to look at them, they were gone.

"I.. see." Cracks began to spread around me, like a chick trying to break out of its shell, with a deafening boom each time a new fissure forms. I stood, eyes closed shut, breathing slowly and deeply through my nose. Soon enough, the cracks spread close enough to where I stood, and everything instantly broke. I didn't watch the process, but I had a hunch, a feeling, intuition for what comes next.

I fell.

Disappearance begone.

Pasta apologizes, but circumstances and this chapter were not helping.

Maakl2001 truly was helpful in the finalization of this chapter, really.

Thanks for waiting.