Astel woke up on top of a small cliff—he almost fell off from the shock.
He looked behind him and saw a myriad of dead bodies. Monster bodies.
There were serpents, both small and large, weird unrecognizable monsters and what looked to be bulls—their bodies too mangled to recognize properly. The blood-soaked sand looked beautiful in contrast with the surrounding prismarine color, but the bodies ruined the view. The stench was horrible.
Somehow, he wasn't thirsty. His body was in surprisingly good condition. His arm felt a lot better than what he remembered. He was confused, but also glad—he had escaped death again.
'What happened?'
His mind stirred as a familiar voice resounded.
"Look who finally decided to wake up."
The voice sounded proud.
"Did you do this? I mean, how? Why?
Not letting the voice respond Astel continued, "And where the hell am I?"
The voice shifted and started speaking in an annoyed tone.
"You ask so many questions, Astel. It's exhausting. Try thinking for once—it's what that brains are for, remember?"
Astel fell deep in thought.
'You aren't just an annoying voice in my head, are you?'
"Bingo."
Astel's lungs tightened. A shiver ran down his spine.
'So… you're me?'
"You're catching on. I'm almost proud of you."
The voice paused for a moment.
"I'm the part you buried. The one that gets things done."
Astel frowned, not looking forward to what was to come next.
'You weren't always with me.'
The voice was silent.
'When was it? When I woke up in this place? After the Scavenger?—No, it was during the fight with that reptile, wasn't it.'
"Look at you, figuring it out all by yourself. I'd clap if I could."
Astel felt embarrassed by the voice's mocking tone.
'So, what happened?'
"Can't you see what happened? I killed these vermin."
Vermin… Astel pondered on the voice's interesting description.
These were all at least category 2 beasts, and he fought them with one hand and probably a tired, beaten body.
'I mean, what happened after I collapsed?'
There was silence for a moment. Astel wanted to ask again, but then the voice answered.
"Well, you were so hell-bent on walking to the mountains, so I decided that I would go as far away from them."
'What? Why?' Astel blurted out.
"Can you let me finish, brat?"
Astel calmed his curiosity and patiently waited.
"You… We... never would have made it. The mountains were an illusion. I'm sure you've realized this place is a bit weird."
Astel nodded slowly.
"Well, I'm not too sure about many things myself, but I knew that I had to find water to survive. So I did. You can thank me now."
His words were returned with silence.
"I also figured out your little ability."
Astel's eyes lit up as if he were a dog seeing its master holding a treat.
"It only works if you're covered by darkness… any shadow will do."
Astel immediately probed the ball of energy in his mind to see if the other him had used it.
"Don't worry, I didn't use it… there was no need to."
Astel nodded enthusiastically and waited for the voice to continue, but there was nothing.
'So, is there anything else you did?'
"No, that's it."
Astel was disappointed, but still happy with what happened. The idea of his body being taken over and acting without his involvement still scared him.
He looked down the cliff once more—and saw something he really wasn't expecting.
'Is that… people?'
Astel was looking at a small camp of what looked like refugees. They had a small caravan and a few tents.
He wanted to climb down and introduce himself, but when he tried to move, he realized his body was as still as a rock. He didn't know how to talk to others. He had been isolated for too long.
'I really should't, they'll be better off without me, I'll just follow them and help out if the need arises.'
"You should kill them."
The voice scared Astel.
'No—What?—Why?'
He truly didn't understand why the voice would suggest something like that, but then he felt an indescribable bloodlust. He didn't want to kill them… but why was the thought of it so alluring?
"What if they have supplies? Or better yet, Notions."
Astel absentmindedly grinned, the scary smile disappearing as soon as he noticed what he was doing.
'Stop it! Stop messing with my head.'
The voice laughed.
"I'm not doing anything." Then it said in an alluring, ethereal voice, "These feelings are all yours. Indulge them."
Astel fell into a trance, imagining how he would descend the cliff and tear each person limb from limb, hearing their screams and seeing the terrified look in their eyes. He licked his lips—then woke up.
'No, no, absolutely not. I'm a hero, not a killer.'
"Do you think the reptile would agree? You sure did your duty, 'Hero'."
It laughed maniacally.
"Ah, if you could've seen the expression on your face back then, as you continued stabbing the dead body."
The memory was all hazy—he couldn't remember the details of that day.
"Isn't it a bit odd, you claiming to be a hero? Do you even believe these words yourself?"
That question startled Astel. He was already confused as is, but the thought of being a hero… somewhat scared him.
"What's wrong? Are you doubting yourself?
Foolish idiot who doesn't even know what he is."
Astel couldn't answer. Instead, he focused on the distant horizon, seeing the mountains. They seemed within arm's reach. They were so close.
He was almost there.
He didn't know what to expect from the mountains—but it would probably be better than this weird desert.
He reached into his bag for a piece of dried meat, but instead of it, he felt a weird, slimy object. He took it out and inspected it.
"Oh, yeah, I prepared a gift for lending me your body."
Astel held the object in front of his eyes and frowned. He was holding a small heart.
'Why do I have a heart in my bag?'
"Are you blind? That right there is a precious trophy I worked really hard to get for us."
Astel returned his attention to the strange heart. He instinctively tightened his grip and crushed it. Suddenly, a foreign energy entered his body.
His eyes widened as he started breathing faster, shorter breaths.
'Could you please explain to me why we have another category 3 Notion?'
The voice laughed, seemingly amused by Astel's reaction.
Astel's cheeks flushed red. Then he tried summoning the Notion.
A long silver spear appeared in his hands. Flowers made of a different kind of steel decorated its handle. The shaft of the spear was formed of a dark, solid wood, its tip a strange silver shape. It was long and pointy, and about midway through, there were two protrusions out of each side of the thin blade.
The spear felt incredibly light in his hand. He swung it around, feeling the air part before its blade. It didn't seem like an average weapon. It felt as if the blade's length was shifting slightly—sometimes reaching further, sometimes less so.
He tried willing the spear to shorten—and to his surprise, it did. It shrank to about the size of a longsword. The blade remained the same, but the handle seemed to shrink into itself.
'How cool is that?'
"I can almost see the dead bodies this weapon will leave in its wake."
Astel frowned.
'I'm not killing anyone.'
"I'm not saying you will."
Shivers traveled down Astel's spine as he swallowed his next words.
"Anyway, it's about time we do this."
Astel's mind turned dull. His thoughts slowed down—while his body acted against his will.
He covered his body with his improvised cloak, shrouding himself in shadows. The next second, he disappeared. The top of the cliff was silent, with only dozens of dead bodies littering the floor.
The shadows behind the small caravan stirred, deepening into something darker.
Astel's body emerged from the dark—as if he had always been there.
He glanced around, then strode toward one of the tents.
Pushing through the flap, he approached a sleeping figure.
A grin curled on his face, devilish and cruel. He summoned his spear.
Its blade gleamed in the dark, now poised at the sleeper's throat.
He froze, doing everything in his power to hold himself back—to stop his hands from becoming the tools of a killer.
"Do it!"
The voice urged him, but then a voice resounded behind him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Astel swiftly turned around to look at the source of the voice. He felt something hit his head—and then he fell unconscious, the spear slipping from his hand.
He was caught by the mysterious person and lowered gently to the ground. The person inspected the spear as he looked at the figure slumped on the floor.
"How fascinating."