Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  The snow crunched beneath our boots as we walked deeper into the forests. Whilst I remained silent, vigilantly scanning the forest, Kael whistled an almost whimsical tune under his breath, almost skipping rather than walking.

  He only stopped when we approached a ravine, one that stretched about twenty feet across. Kael kicked a patch of snow into the almost abysmal darkness, watching in silence as the powdery substance descended into the inky void where the crimson moonlight couldn’t reach.

  “Perhaps the creature leapt over the ravine?” Kael proposed, looking back at me.

  “What if it flew? You mentioned it maybe could have flown to begin with, which resulted in the lack of footprints at the scene of the pen.”

  The crimson-haired man looked up into the dark sky, eyes narrowing slightly. “I myself can’t fly, but you can. How about you scan the horizon?”

  “A-alright.” I extended the illusory wings on my back, lifting myself into the air. As the spiny pine trees gradually receded below me, I gained a full view of my surroundings. There was nothing but evergreen trees rolling out for seemingly miles, accompanied by the occasional hills.

  “What do you want me to look for exactly?” I looked down at Kael, who stood looking up at me with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I want you to focus. Close your eyes, and make your body ascend.”

  “Ascend?” I questioned.

  “I remember the process like it was yesterday. If you remember what you read when advancing, you can enter the Astral Void for a very short time.”

  A torrent of information suddenly coursed into my mind. I recalled the contents of the script that had manifested before my eyes when I consumed the Order 8 potion—I could enter the Astral Void for a very few seconds, but my scope of abilities within there would be relatively weak until I advance to the likes of a Titan or a demi-god.

  “And… when I enter there, what would you want me to do?”

  Kael chuckled under his breath. “That’s all the information I’ll offer. You’ll know when you enter there, that’s with certainty.”

  “A-alright.” I drew in a shaky sigh, looking around my surroundings. “But I don’t know how to ascend to begin with. I only know how to enter my mind-scape.”

  “The Astral Void is the place where your spirituality and pathway symbolisms can congregate and meet. All you need to do is feel the essence of your pathway—you must concentrate and focus deeply on the core of your pathway if you are to ascend there.”

  “The core of my pathway?”

  “Your core of the pathway. Think back to what emotions you felt when drinking it and why.”

  “I…”

  I closed my eyes, my brows furrowing. I had only drank the potion because I was helpless; I was stranded to a new reality for an unknown reason, and I needed a tool to survive. But, at the same time, the vision Isaiah Walls gave me was painfully accurate—I had drunk the potion because I also felt powerless in the face of my father.

  If I could gain that agency, that inscrutable will and desire to make choices and think for myself, not worrying about being that kid who sat back, read books in the park to avoid his home, and sorted unpaid bills because it was the only thing my father saw in my eyes, then I won’t be the loser anymore, I can become my own person, I can become the winner over my own sense of self.

  But, just about everyone I know saw that night. I had killed those two men, I had shed blood—the same blood my father shed by beating up Garry, the same blood I tried to shed by killing him that night, by even dreaming of killing him. Now, I am no longer Isaac, but I am Silas—the boy who asserts himself, the boy who has agency, the will to make his own choices, but… Silas had killed, but Silas had tried to do good, to cling to the hope of his past, only for the master overseeing his cattle to belittle him and encourage him to shed old lining.

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  I felt a surge of energy flow through my body as a singular thought crossed my mind: In attempting to not become my father, I had become exactly what he wanted—what Kael wanted—to a certain extent. Even without thinking, I still clung to the hope of Shinso, of my friends, and of being myself again.

  Every time I tried to get up, to run or regress to the old, Kael would punish me. That’s also my father punishing me. They don’t want me to become the loser, they want me to be the winner—not my winner—but their winner. They want the winner who pushed aside competition, who assets himself through fists and shouting.

  I had merely submitted myself out of fear and confusion, the illusory proposal that Kael’s outstretched hand, that everyone in Kael’s group truly knew me. At first, I felt like that was true, but I had been forced to do things I wouldn’t even consider. That wasn’t truth, it was a curtain of lies disguised as something—and someone—who knew me.

  This was me being the loser by being Silas. I was being strong for Kael, for my father, for those who respected strength over agency or the urge to help, without knowing it. The essence of the Apocalypse pathway began to pour into my mind.

  Before I could truly uncover it, everything went silent around me. I opened my eyes, looking around. It was completely dark, almost dark as night. Within this illusory space, countless ‘rivers’ of energy emerged from the ground, spiraling upwards into the endless expanse above. Here, I knew I was completely alone.

  But for now, I had to listen to Kael—somewhat. Within the ‘rivers’ of energy, I saw different scenes and concepts. The Saint pathway, radiating light and security, the Justice pathway securing order and refinement, and the Apocalypse pathway shedding chaos and destruction. I saw buildings topple over, exploding into flames.

  Civilians ran away from the chaos as more and more explosions resounded behind them. The scene shifted upwards as a figure came into view. He had long, goat-like horns penetrating from His skull, and was clad in armor, carrying a spear twice His height. From the description I had seen from Kael’s journal, this figure was Khorvath—his father.

  The scene abruptly shifted, taking on another scenario before my eyes. Evergreen trees collapsed, echoing amongst the chaos, fire, and bloodshed. More civilians, clad in farmers attire, ran around like wild animals, trying to find cover or escape the madness, but to no avail. One by one, they collapsed to the ground, shriveling up like rotten fruit, and turning to ashes.

  At the center of the chaos stood a figure, a figure with crimson hair, elven ears, and his hands folded neatly behind his back. Beside the man was another person, shorter than him, black hair restrained into a loose ponytail behind his head as he gawked at the scene, making a rude remark.

  Those figures were me and Kael.

  I practically stumbled back from the vertical ‘river’, my breath hitching as the floor beneath me disappeared. I was now falling, falling endlessly into the darkness. The deeper I fell into the Astral Void, the farther back the ‘river’ of the Apocalypse pathway drew. I saw other people, tyrants with horns on their head, kings and queens wielding omnipotent strength to conquer and make their subjects submit, and existences older than space and time sitting on thrones made of dying stars.

  When I looked at them, my eyes rolled back in my head as I landed in the snow.

  “Hey!” Kael cried, running over to my body.

  His hands made their way to both of my cheeks, patting them gently. My breathing quickened as I opened my eyes. I felt warm, far too warm for someone who was standing outside in frigid weather. My hands crackled with crimson energy I didn’t remember summoning. The illusory wings on my back habitually expanded.

  “You want all of them dead!” I cried.

  Kael initially remained silent, his eyes narrowing just a sliver. “You didn’t listen, didn’t you?”

  “I-I saw everything in that place! You stood in the ruins of Clifton watching everything burn before your eyes!”

  “Let me guess, you stood there too?” The crimson-haired man scoffed, arching an eyebrow playfully as his lips formed an almost serpentine smirk.

  “I-I… I was standing there watching it happen, but that wasn’t me… that’s Silas standing there!”

  “But you are Silas, and Silas is you in every way.”

  Kael took a step forwards me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “The you from a month ago would have loved to see you now.”

  I shoved Kael away from me, snarling. “No, he wouldn’t have! I’d rather be a goddamn loser than someone who murders because he enjoys it!”

  “But you did murder back there, it’s why your friends foster distaste towards you now.”

  “You don’t know that, damn it!” Crimson flames exploded from my fists, coiling up my arms like a parasite.

  “Isaac doesn’t know who he is. Silas does. Isaac wears a mask not because he’s ugly on the inside, but because he has no face, and it’s terrifying. The conflict you feel in your heart, the guilt you felt when looking at Ayumi in the park on that day, it wasn’t Silas, it was Isaac.”

  “I don’t want to hear it anymore!” I cried.

  Kael continued, his voice remaining in that chillingly calm tone. “Isaac is the one with chains, the charity case, Silas is the one that breaks them. You know the evil inside you is natural to you. The dreams you have of murder, chaos, and destruction, it’s all natural because it’s conflict—it’s you manifested.

  “I taught you that you can do violence but not do harm. There’s a difference between killing a murderer and killing an innocent life. But it seems that lesson dug itself into the ground, as all life is precious in your eyes.”

  “Just leave me alone!” Without thinking, I flew off. My inky wings extended behind me, carrying me off into the distance.

  “I’ll go back to Clifton and tell them all of your treachery!”

  Kael remained still, watching me fly away without objection. Instead of pursuing me, he simply chuckled under his breath.

  “I’m practically in their soil, they won’t believe a word you utter.”