Chapter Text
The Void – Darkness. Silence. For once in your miserable, pathetic life, there is nothing. No noise. No feeling. You float in a sea of semi-consciousness. Unaware. Unexistence. You are submerged in it and in return, it swallows you whole. You sink deeper and deeper to drown beneath its waters. It whispers to you a single word.
You – Sleep.
The Void – Yes, sleep. A sleep that is all consuming and endless. A sleep that goes on for a millenia. A sleep that sees the rise and fall of civilizations. A sleep to see the towering peaks of civilization crumble away into sand and dust.
You – I don’t care about any of that. I just want to rest.
The Void – Then rest you shall. Let everything else slip away. Ignore it all, the world around you. Sleep. Let yourself sleep.
You – What am I supposed to be ignoring?
The Void – Nothing you need to worry about. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
Shimmer [Medium: Success] – Red crystal towers loom over jagged obsidian wastelands, barely visible behind walls of fog. Something gargantuan moves in it. Massive beings to defy all scale. Disjointed creatures of which you could not possibly imagine.These sights were not meant for you.
You – What’s going on?
The Void – It’s nothing you should concern yourself with. Let yourself lull back to sleep. Unexistence is happy to suck you back.
You – Okay, whatever. Rest sounds nice.
The Void – It is love, it really is. All that stuff is for someone else to deal with. For you? There’s nothing. Nothing but darkness.
Except…
You – Except?
Central Nervous System – Something manages to worm its way through your broken brain meat: a sensation. Lapping, a rhythmic motion licking at your innards; the only pieces of the original you left. And with it comes more feeling. Pain. A pain that slips its sharp reminder deep into you. You wanted this hurt. You wanted this moment. You wanted to live.
You – Does this mean it’s over? I don’t want to go back.
Shimmer – All cycles must come to an end. Your time in this one grows short.
The Void – And there’s no stopping it now dear. The feelings flow over each other like a thousand voices vying for your attention. You enter the waking world the same way you first did: kicking, screaming, and covered in blood. There’s only one thing left for you to do.
1. Wake up.
You – “Euughh.”
Sun – The full force of the uncaring sun beats down upon your broken and battered body. You can’t tell how long you’ve been lying under this heat lamp, but you should have been cooked like a calamari by this point.
You – Your consciousness may be back, but perception did not come so easily with it. A foul flavor fills your mouth and you don’t seem to be able to speak. If you could feel pain you’re certain you’d be in quite a deal of it.
Cognizance [Easy: Success] – That awful stuff you’re tasting is salt water, love. And the reason you’re speaking in gurgles? It’s because half your face is submerged in tidepool brine. Now get up before we find out if it’s possible for us to drown.
You – Your limbs act on a delay, and any motion is like pushing through mud, but your body finally obliges. Water dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, like a child who hasn’t learned how to drink yet.
Beach – The sands seem to stretch on for miles. A blinding white blend of barren nothingness, broken up only by the stray group of birds and errant tidepool, like the one you find yourself bathing in.
Ocean – The gentle lapping you felt earlier is more obvious now. The ebb and flow of the coming tide is unending and relentless.
Faberege [Hard: Success] – Your shell has cracked, exposing all your soft squishy bits to the awful outside world. Whatever journey you undertook to get here must have been an arduous one. Also, that pain you’re probably feeling is likely because your lower intestines and heart are marinating in a salty brine of ocean water.
You – Where is here?
Dialectics [Easy: Failure] – How the hell am I supposed to know? You think I can pick out any random assortment of rocks and sand? It’s sea-water, you should be able to deduce that easily enough, yeah? You’re at the ocean, figure it out yourself.
You – Who am I to figure all this out?
Ocean – The only response to that question is the gentle crashing of waves against your legs and the errant squawk of seagulls, indifferent to your misery.
Dialectics – Who is anyone to consider their own self, their own ability, their own mortality?
You – No, I mean who am I.
Bleeding Heart – You search through the jumbled mess of your mental storage and come back empty handed. There’s a hole in you where something should be. And you’re not sure what. And you’re not sure why.
Poise [Medium: Failure] – Your breaths come out in rasps and groans. Your organs quiver in the open shell of your chest cavity, your heart beat beat beats itself like a swinging drum. You’re losing your grip, girl.
Mettle [Hard: Success] – For the love of god, pull yourself together. You’re the fucking Butcher.
You – That word rattles around your bruised and battered cerebral cortex, knocking against the door but not ringing any bells. But you know it. You felt it. It meant something.
Coup de Grâce – Well it isn’t a name , now is it? No, by the way, in case you didn’t catch that. A profession? Or a descriptor. Something more but not something you. For now, for you, it is an empty meaningless phrase.
You – You are no closer to pulling back the curtain on any semblance of identity. Perhaps an image of yourself would help. You think you could see your reflection in the pond you still haven’t bothered to crawl out of. .
Poise [Medium: Failure] – Oh, there is absolutely no way that’s happening.
Drama Queen – Ugh, imagine how you must look after god knows how long at sea. No, no, no!
You – The thought sends something dirty and disgusted curling in your stomach. No, they’re right. Maybe it’s best if you don’t. Some secrets shouldn’t be uncovered.
Drama Queen – Not without a facial, at least.
Parkour – Are you going to sit in this stupid pond like the sad little sack of flesh and plastic that you are, or are we going to leave ?
You – Maybe I like sitting here.
Bleeding Heart [Easy: Success] – You don’t.
You – The organs that had been hanging so unseemly from your broken body are now safely tucked away beneath a slowly regrowing section of plastic. Or, at least what appears to be plastic. You don’t dare chance your legs, unseemly as they are, and instead manage a childish crawl.
Beach – The sand and rocks should be hotter, baking in the late-noon sun as they are, but you can barely tell. The slightest sensation of warmth is all that translates.
Dialectics [Easy: Success] – It seems the false body you forged only emulates the human condition. Your sense of touch is one of the many, many things lost to you now.
You – After barely crawling your way out of your previous sulking pit, you form a new one by falling pathetically onto your side and curling into a ball.
Mettle – Are you joking with me? Get up .
Tempo [Medium: Success] – Something is off. The peaceful flow of the world around you has shattered, a rock fallen into the still pond of this beach sending out ripples. Something has changed, something is close, something is watching you.
Cognizance – A small blond boy stands above you on the cliff surface. With his horrendous choice in eyewear and atrocious, button-down shirt, he looks every bit the stereotype of a loser nerd.
Brutality – Kill him. Make him regret looking down on you.
Deduction [Easy: Success]: He’s standing on the cliff side, he has no choice but to look down.
Loser Nerd – “Are you alive?”
Bleeding Heart [Medium: Success] – He’s far too calm for a lost child, or someone who first saw you. His heart beats regularly and the rest of his circulatory system is moving like normal. He was either expecting you or has something wrong with him.
Drama Queen – Probably both.
Shimmer – A boy that shouldn’t have been. A false idol, wearing his face and wielding his thoughts, but without a true connection to them. A shattered piece of a broken cycle.
Nerves [Medium: Success] – Despite his nonchalant appearance and manner of dress, he has the eyes of a stone cold killer. At only the hint of aggression he is ready and willing to gut you where you stand.
Brutality – Unless you do it to him first.
Loser Nerd – “If you are alive, say something, or I’m going to have to make sure you are dead.”
Cognizance [Easy: Success] – He holds a small firearm in his right hand, ready to be used if he deems you worth the risk.
Drama Queen – It’s annoying to even perceive him right now. Put him under your thrall and get the information out of him then have him jump off that stupid cliff like a forlorn lover or failed stock broker.
You – I need to say something though. How hard could it be?
Spectacle [Easy: Failure] – You move to speak and find your lungs are still jostling about with a great deal of seawater. Your attempt to suavely introduce yourself is halted as you cough up more water on your hands and knees. This is pathetic. He looks at you like you’re a wet cat vomiting on the carpet.
Loser Nerd – “That’s a yes then. Unfortunate. Would you happen to be insane at least? It would make all of this far easier.”
Loser Nerd – He descends from his perch down towards you, sliding effortlessly on the loose sand without even the slightest sign of slipping.
Drama Queen – Out of your reach still.
Dialectics – Wait, this is the first sign of humanity in this barren waste of land. Maybe he knows something you don’t.
You – “Do you know who I am?”
Loser Nerd – “Do you not?”
Coup de Grâce – He says the words with a derision only reachable by teenagers and mothers. Change the topic unless you want to be humiliated further.
You – “Where am I?”
Loser Nerd – “Nowhere. This area may have a name, but I’m not aware of it and don’t really care. It’s next to nothing. Forgettable, though strategically located. Near several different larger metropolis areas, though Brockton Bay would be the closest city to here.”
You – Something like fire lights in you, a feeling you didn’t even know that you had. The world narrows down to you and the boy as the word Brockton kicks its way through your chest and seizes onto your very soul.
Brutality [Easy: Success] – That’s rage. Grasp it. Hold it like a hot ember to your chest and let it leave its mark in you permanently.
Poise – Your focus is sharp as a knife through the eye. The mind forgets, but the heart remembers. There’s something dear. Something important.
Bleeding Heart – Something hurt you there.
Brutality – You need to hurt it back
You – “How far away is that?”
Loser Nerd – He stares into the distance for a moment as if quite literally calculating the distance in his head.
Loser Nerd – "Two hours by car. Eight hours if walking. In your crawling state, I would estimate it would take you over five days considering stops for food, if you still need to do that."
Coup de Grâce – He’s mocking you, if you weren’t aware.
Parkour – Though he probably is correct in that estimation.
Spectacle [Hard: Success] You push yourself up, your bloodshot eyes stare into his and he doesn’t even flinch. The next words you speak are clear, calm, and dripping with hatred.
You – "Take me."