Merric had believed Sora—the so-called rookie—was no more. He was wrong.
She was not dead. Not yet at least.
Instead, she found herself sliding through the writhing entrails of the beast, a grotesque descent into its molten core. The glowing scourge's venom, thick as liquid fire, seared through her clothing, reducing fabric and leather to blackened sludge. Her weapons, forged in steel melted like wax in a furnace, their edges dissolving into nothingness.
The pain was unbearable.
Sora felt every inch of her skin burning as she slid into an open fleshy space in the scourge's stomach now completely naked and helpless as she rolled in a pile of hard structures that felt like the bones of either a human or an animal. She struggled to stand on her feet, her body aching.
She raised her hand to her hair, feelling part of it being burnt away but surprisingly her body remained unscathed, 'Looks like the virus doesn't affect organic matter' so she thought. Then the burning came.
It erupted in her throat like a blade of white-hot iron. Before she could choke back the agony, blood surged from her lips, splattering the grotesque floor beneath her.
The system's voice cut through the haze of pain like a death knell.
Sora was brought to her knees, her breath coming in heavy ragged gasps—the system emerged:
[Crafter Has Been Infected]
[Conditions: Crafter will experience internal bleeding and health points will be reduced over thirty-five seconds]
Sora looked in horror, her lips quivering as she read through one of the most haunting messages that she wasn't ready for. Not only was she slowly dying from the infection that had purged one of the knights of the bureau, if she didn't meet the criteria of the mission to kill the scourge it meant instant death as well.
Having no alternative, Sora had to think—think as fast as she could, of the most aggressive surprise she was going to give the monster from the inside. Equipping the dual axes, she began tearing at the entrails and of course this disturbed the monster screeched in pain and before Sora knew it, a waterfall of the scourge's venom fell on her being the scourge's defense mechanism.
Sora screamed, writhing in pain as she coughed out blood another time—a big gallon enough to fill a beer cup, "Agh," she gagged.
[Health Points: 100/200]
Sora felt her body deteriorating right before her eyes, she glanced down at her shaky hands—her hair had burnt to an extent that made her bald. The weapons in her hand had completely melted away.
Though the experience was painful, she had to keep on going, 'It's not over yet,' she said to herself, gathering her resolve—she forged more weapons, slashing at the monster from the inside while avoiding the venomous waterfall as it fell on one particular spot. Sora continued, using her daggers to dissect every part of the monster.
Another thirty-five seconds had passed, and the scourge's virus took its toll on her causing her to cough out blood again. She suddenly felt a strange weakness in her body as her health points reduced.
She staggered backwards, falling into the scourge's venom that seemed to be flooding the entire area.
[Danger!]
The system alerted her, and her health slowly began to deteriorate. Her body began to wither away, turning into a skeletal form.
[Health Points: 80/200]
[Health Points: 40/200]
[Health Points: 20/200]
[Health Points: 10/200]
[Health Points: 0/200]
[Health Points Depleted]
Sora gasped for air, her lungs squeezing in her throat as she felt her soul being drawn from her body. Her eyes slowly closed as she felt the stomach of the scourge becoming more darker—though, it wasn't a feeling because it was happening already.
Could this have been the end of Sora? She had been on the brink of death before, but in this scenario, she was dead and there was no coming back.
[Welcome To Your Last Resort, Crafter Sora]
Miraculously, Sora opened her eyes—the horrific situation she faced in the scourge's stomach becoming a mere figment of her imagination, now more like a dream than reality.
She found her bare body lying down on green pastures, her eyes darted towards clear skies giving her the impression that she was in the afterlife, the scent of her mother's favourite perfume filling the air around her. Sora raised her hand, noticing it glowed with a strange light—her entire body was bathed in pure, golden light leaving only her entire head—her brown medium hair now fully restored back to its fullest.
Sora tried to rise on her feet but she felt a strange weight on her shoulder, rendering her immobilized, 'What's this?,' she commented through her thought. Losing all hope on trying to move herself she remembered the system and as she spoke the word, "Status"
Nothing—
Not even a slight chime to notify her of its presence, Sora had lost the system and she wasn't happy to find out. As she panicked inwardly, a figure who was thought to be her comforter when things were dire materialized beside her through the form of multiple shadows swirling from the ground like tendrils.
The young Sora noticed this and felt petrified, but as the shadows began to flow up into the air—merging together to form the shape of what looked like a cloaked man with a rod in his hand, Sora felt a sense of relief. She was familiar with this man, having met him in various scenarios of her dreams, but he was always far away.
Now he was right next to her and not only that, he did something that was a shock to Sora—he spoke.
"Well, there goes another Crafter under my watch," he said with a tone that seemed to echo, mixing with the world they stood in, sighing with disdain.
Sora was completely overwhelmed, struggling to get the words she wished to say out of her mouth, but eventually, she managed to do so, "You..... you can talk?," she spoke out, these words being the first thing she ever told the man.
The cloaked man nodded, "Well of course I can speak child, as the creator of the system which you failed to keep, I must speak," he replied, revealing a mindblowing secret to the girl.
"You are the creator?," said Sora, her eyes widened with overwhelming shock and excitement.
"Indeed I am," the cloaked man replied to her skeptics, lending a shadowy hand to the young woman, "Come with me, I have lots to show you"
Sora reluctantly raised her hand, placing her palm against the stranger's cold hand, and as she was raised she found the world around her shift in seconds—minutes before, the area had been only filled with flowers; now she found herself inside an exact copy of her home. Sora stood with the figure, glancing around her home, 'This is my home,' she muttered to herself inwardly, being familiar with the place immediately.
"What are we doing here?," she asked, facing the stranger.
The stranger, who had his back turned to her, turned to answer, "Welcome to the past, Crafter Sora," he replied, making Sora more puzzled—he continued, "In here, you get to meet your loved ones and spend the time you want with them. This is also a place where you must make your choice"
A choice?—
What could that mean? What choice exactly was she making?
Her thoughts began to spin, till the stranger dissolved into a cloud of shadow, swimming around Sora's body. The young girl glanced around, overwhelmed by what was happening—the shadows dissolved into her skin and Sora found the light that bathed her evaporated and her body clothed.
A tattered top and that did little to hold her form and a dirty apron—this was her old attire, the one she wore when she worked at the forge.
Sora looked down, shocked by seeing herself in this attire again as it brought back memories and to add it all up a voice emerged from the stairs, a mix of familiarity and emotion laced in the tone.
"Hey, can I help you, stranger?,"
Sora's eyes darted towards where the sound emerged from and as she locked eyes with whoever it was, Sora couldn't help but panic inwardly—her eyes wide open, breathing coming heavy as her chest rose and fell. Sora couldn't believe her eyes.
Standing before her, her eyes bright orange, brown locks of hair that flowed down to her torso. Sora's mother stood before her, and as she locked eyes with this warm, calm woman, Sora couldn't help but tear up.
But the woman who she saw as her mother didn't recognize her, besides this was the past and Sora could've been at least five years of age at the time.
The woman walked down, her concerned expression on her face, "Are you lost, child?," she asked, still showing concern and kindness despite seeing Sora as a stranger. This was indeed her mother and Sora didn't know how she was going to express herself.
"Yes, yes I'm lost," Sora replied, "Please, may I kindly stay at your abode for one night?"
Sora's mother nodded, "Okay?," she answered awkwardly.
With a head gesture, she led Sora to the upstairs rooms, opening the young Sora's room. It was smaller than how she saw it now, it was indeed the past after all, "Do you need anything?," she asked.
Sora nodded, "I will... be fine," she stuttered.
Sora's mother nodded, leaving the young woman alone. Sora glanced around the room, the sight of the small bed, cupboard and shelves that held many photographic memories caught her eye.
The young girl swallowed the bile in her throat, making her way towards this things that held memories. She sat on her bed, rubbing her palm against the soft fabric and a sense of peace washed over her.
Suddenly, the clothes she was adorned with began to dissolve into shadows leaving her bare. Sora stood from the bed, overwhelmed as she watched the shadows dancing as the stranger emerged from it.
"It.... Its you again," Sora stuttered, not bothered by the stranger's ability to shapeshift into her attire.
"Well of course," the stranger answered, "I'd be mad to leave you here, this is a memory afterall and living in it is a taboo. Unless you make the choice"
The choice, Sora remembered before the stranger had left her. "What choice exactly?," she asked.
The stranger raised a finger, "The choices come in two aspects, do you wish to stay here, live a happy life, be with your mother?," he asked.
Sora's heart tensed as she heard the first choice but she was about to hear the second choice and it would be quite hard for her to decide.
"Or," the stranger raised a second finger, "You can return back to the land of the living, back to the present where you have to face hell?," he finally asked.
Sora was left wandering, but with much thought she knew what she wanted, "I have no choice, this is the past and I cannot interfere with the events in it. This world belongs to the younger Sora and I cannot fit myself in it," she muttered with a heavy tone.
The stranger cocked his head in utter confusion and bewilderment.
"Younger Sora?" he questioned.
Confusion prickled at Sora.
"Yes. You mentioned this was the past."
"It is the past," he agreed, nodding slightly. "But not your memory."
Sora's breath stilled.
"What?"
"Think, Sora. Have you seen your younger self here?"
Her gaze darted.
No.
She hadn't.
Only photographs. Only echoes.
The stranger's voice turned grave.
"You haven't realized yet?"
A pause. Then—
"Sora… the reason you never saw yourself is because you were never here to begin with."
Her bones turned to lead.
"Because in this past, you were dead."
The words struck like a executioner's axe making a clean cut at her neck.
Her body trembled.
Her soul screamed for help as the stranger spoke such haunting words.
Dead.
Dead.
All along.