CHAPTER 33: THE TRUE MEANING OF NOTHING

Aerith lay on the soft bed after he had regained his conscienceness, his senses were still dull and his body weak. He was somewhere in an infirmary— that much he could tell. His bed was encased in a wall of white corners that covered four corners preventing him from seeing beyond it.

In the short while he had been awake he could hear sounds, people running around and making loud noises. Occasionally there would be screams that caused him to shiver.

He was currently hooked up to a machine that read his heart rate and blood pressure. He stared at it for a long time wondering why such piece of technology existed there. He never thought the tower would harbor technology at all— yet here it was, humming softly beside him.

Left alone, Aerith began to ponder the meaning of life— not because he sought wisdom, but because, for the first time since entering the tower, he had a moment to breathe.

So much had happened , so much had been lost. But what scarred him wasn’t the battles and bloodshed he went through but his mental state and how everything had affected his mind. In a series of events he has lost his sanity and became a beast himself, both his comrades had almost died. He could only wish they were still alive.

Aerith slowly started to remember what had he had done after the white plague had taken over his body. The images didn’t just flash— they lingered in his mind, as if whatever had taken over him had left them behind on purpose.

His body trembled as he recalled ripping a man apart, his stomach churned as he tried to kill Emilia and Nasha. Their eyes had been wide in horror, it felt like he had been in a deep sleep then, "What did that damned woman do to me?" He gnashed his teeth and continued to recall everything as the events unfolded.

The monster he had become had a bad energy around it, a strong malice that still lingered even after it was gone. And somehow he felt that some of that malice was his.

He felt he would have killed Emilia and not stop himself back then. A world of guilt overwhelmed him, when he thought deeply about it was it his fault this all happened? He remembered the white prince walking up to the monster and revealing why he had given him the sword in the first place.

His expression darkened as a new stream of thought flowed into his mind. "That bastard, he used me. All of this pointless murder just because he wanted a magic sword." To him it sounded absurd, and wicked at the same time. "I’ll make him pay, I swear it to the gods."

He then remembered drinking the blood of the white prince and recoiled in disgust but nothing came out, much to his disappointment.

In one day, Aerith had run for his life— and been used. Whatever mannerism of composure he had once was long gone now, he did not feel any pity for those he had killed while he was a deranged demon. All he felt now was silent rage.

"Where am I anyway?" He asked the silence, and waited patiently for and answer but received none in return.

Unable to move, he did the only thing he could, he summoned the cryptic runes that had appeared on the days the tower called him and studied them.

[Status]

Name- Aerith Zannek

Rank- Blank

Enima Point- 0/100

Attribute- Light

Title- Lightcatcher

Title Description- Reborn as one of light, shining without blemish. Light shines and shadows recoil. They are a beacon that can never be dimmed.

It was pretty much the same as it was on that day. He proceeded to look at the next line of words. Most especially his enchantment.

They were mostly the same except for the emergency of a new one but it was covered in a question mark, it left him to wonder what it was and how it would affect him in future. He had no other choice but to wait, and somehow that bothered him.

[Enchantments]

Shadowless

Hope’s Shackles

Eye Of Revelation

???

He proceeded to look at a new set of runes that formed it’s own catalogue, on thought he managed to open it and find something he did not expect under it.

[Relics]

Smartphone

White plague

Seeing the smartphone here made him feel mocked, but seeing the white plague caused him to shiver. His pulse quickened and he blinked several times hoping it was just his own imagination. "That’s impossible, I thought it was gone." He told himself. "How is it still around?"

He didn’t want to admit it, but this spelled doom for his future. Staring at his relics longer they fizzled and expanded, showing more descriptions under them.

[Relics]

Relic Name- Smartphone

Relic Type- Support

Relic Rank- Blank

Relic Description- A device from an era of advanced human technology that has many purposes.

Relic Enchantments- None

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that?" He scoffed as he looked away from the mediocre item and unto the one that gave him chills.

Relic Name- White Plague

Relic Type- Weapon

Relic Rank- Divine

Relic Description- One of the hexacore chronicles. The plague devoured everything in its site, along with it’s ruler. An hunger unquenchable.

Relic Enchantments- Hidden

Aerith groaned inwardly. "Now that’s great, why would it’s enchantments be hidden?"

Left with nothing to do he went back to pondering on his next action, if he didn’t decided soon he feared he would die. What did he lack that put him at a disadvantage, the first thing he could think of was information. But most of all it was power to survive a in this hellscape, without that he was nothing.

And he had learned that the hard way, the true meaning of nothing was simply that— nothing. He had almost died any times all because he was seen as nothing.

A few moments then a voice rolled from the walls themselves— calm, hollow, and omnipresent. It was the voice of the Testmaster, Varrick.

"Congratulations on passing my test there are only three hundred and seventy five of you left. In one week there will be another test and whoever passes will challenge their very first world gate." The voice gave a brief allowing his word to sink. "You will have two options, you can choose to relax and wait to die or you can choose to join the classes and learn why you are truly here."

Then it went silent.

Aerith looked up at the ceiling with grim determination, "Classes? Bring it on, I’m done being cannon fodder."