I manipulate the air and launch myself to the right. A figure passes by my back and hits the ground where I was standing, sinking into the earth and throwing grass into the air. I intensify my body and output as much mana as I can to run between the trees. I correct my course in the direction I heard Elron's voice, and take care not to be disoriented by the growing tremors behind me. The snapping of trees, dry branches and the deafening roar in the middle of the night make me aware of the creature's presence. At this speed, it can't-

  In front of me, the shadow of the deformed giant raises its arm and tears the air into a blur. I raise my arms and put them over my head, then feel the pressure of the attack bend and almost explode my knees. The taste of iron arrives along with the wave of impact that shakes my joints, and after it, the deep, burning pain of pierced flesh. A single second is all it takes for him to force his hand and crush me into the grass. Holding me by the wounds, the creature raises its other hand-

  “UMBRA!” I shout.

  I feel the disordered power confuse my thoughts with screams and visions, but they all fall away. Towering over me, the giant's shadows deform at my command and solidify into an explosion of thorns. At high speed, black constructs pierce the creature and push it along with the pressure of the attack until it is impaled on a tree.

  A weak cry escapes my throat. I press my head against the floor and inhale to contain the pain of the laceration, feeling the blood leaking from my arms as I struggle to keep my sanity through the excess of Chaos.

  You can't manipulate what doesn't exist. Lacking shadows, I conjured them with my own mana to build the attack—but it wasn't enough. Unstoppable, the beast stares at me and distracts me.

  Regeneration. Precise-

  One step.

  “Sieghart!”

  Elron holds a wound in his belly and limps towards me. He inhales and covers himself with golden mana, then runs.

  “What happened?” He looks at my wounds and then at the creature.

  Smiling fearfully, his lips contracted with living flesh. The creature screams and pulls out the thorns one by one, It's thirst for blood making It ignore the pain altogether. Elron's hand trembles, knowing that he can't run away without abandoning me. The boy advances, but his delay means he no longer has the advantage of time.

  Apart from the fact that he's my friend, there's a bigger factor that makes me respect him:

  Elron is not a coward.

  Swiftly, the creature lunges with its jaws, and Elron throws himself to the side to avoid having his head devoured. He punches the beast's throat into the opening, and a scream of choking pain explodes from the air on impact.

  Intensified balance works alongside action to overcome fear. The boy rips the wind from below with his sword and intercepts the creature's counterattacking arm. Another scream echoes as his severed fingers are launched into the air—but the advantage is gone when Elron is the next to scream.

  Thin claws tear the ground and flesh into a figure. Elron is thrown along with dust and dirt into the air and spins meters upwards before smashing his back against the ground. He spits blood on his landing, his eyes wandering for a second before regaining consciousness.

  It's too late for him to react—but he doesn't have to.

  “Ignite!” The projectile of flames illuminates where it passes and explodes in a flash against the creature's head. Smoke billows from the meeting place, giving Elron time to get back on his feet amid the screams of burning flesh. Elron takes a few steps backwards in front of the aberration, but I hold him back so that he can come out of his state of shock.

  I point my index finger and maximize my output. I feel the buzzing increase and blood trickle from my nose—I struggle to keep my form and consciousness after using so much power—and conjure to expand the smoke and fire through the forest. A black cloud covers the woods as sensitive flesh burns in rage and pain, but it is unable to find us.

  I feel the taste of blood as it escapes my mouth in a vomit. Red consumes the emerald below me as my vision blur. Elron rests me on his shoulder and doesn't take a second before he's off at full speed towards the village.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  It's pointless manipulating my own flesh to close the wounds. Tissues, coagulation, skin—it all looks simple in the medical books I've read so much and tried to recreate every time I hurt myself. In truth, these hands of mine were only meant to kill and destroy—and so the spell fails.

  I don't intend to continue just to spend more mana than I already do. The taste of iron intensifies, the left becomes the right. I hear the felling of trees and see danger manifest itself from the emerald horizon to the red flesh in heavy steps. Whatever creature from within the woods that fate has casually placed in front of me tonight does the job that all those have been afraid to do and stares me in the face for all those who have turned it.

  He does it in an earthquake.

  A stone rises up in front of us and shakes the ground. Elron tries to react-

  But his mana is disordered by Chaos.

  His power suddenly fluctuates and, unable to control it, Elron crashes into the stone and is thrown to the ground along with dust and blood. I roll on the grass and struggle to breathe as the pain worsens—only to realize what has just happened.

  Elron had fought the creature before. I couldn't tell due to the urgency, but he was already injured when he found me. Receiving so many direct attacks drained his vitality—crashing into the stone pillar knocked him unconscious.

  He's passed out.

  I open my eyes wide and force myself to stand up. I carry Elron to the stone pillar and prop him up behind it. In the few seconds I have before the creature arrives, I use the clarity of the chaos to think. Ideas and more ideas come rushing through my already damaged brain.

  I know the creature can't cast complex spells. It had teleported through the shadows and created the pillar, but these are simple, single uses of high power—an emotional use of magic. If it were a master, it would have killed us with it by now—and even if it were, it doesn't seem stable enough to use it that way.

  I move as far away from Elron as I can, then collapse to the ground. Pain spreads through my purple and almost broken arms. I could still feel my muscles pulsing and the burning that comes with the exhaustion. Facing the silver moon, the dense, red aura tries to stick my wounds together as the reaper approaches. At that time, the maiden hiding behind the moon saved me. As prophesied, she would no longer be enough.

  A tree collapses a few hundred meters away. If there's a chance of victory, enter through the Gates.

  “What are you waiting for?” The child's voice reaches my ears.

  She stares at me, apathetic and with crimson eyes. Complemented by shoulder-length white hair, her face almost glows in the darkness of the night.

  “Open the gates. You'll die if you don't.”

  I inhale, then shake my head. “I can't. Not now. I've used Chaos enough. I have no one to control me. I can't.”

  “You have me. Isn't that enough?”

  Behind the veil of night, a creature invades the Unknown and makes the sky bleed. Behind the illusion of order, incomprehensible monsters watch me from the firmament they themselves built. The cold runs down my spine, its origin coming from the foundation of what I know dwells in Chaos.

  No. It's not enough. It never has been—it never will be. The fatigue that comes with trying is merged with the options I have. I can open the Gates and pointlessly face everything I know I can't beat for the derisory chance of a miraculous victory. Alternatively, I could die and finally sleep without nightmares. The pain would last an instant, but the peace of non-existence that I have dreamed so much of obtaining would engulf me. A more than obvious deal.

  In front of the door of the almost rotten wooden house, a three-headed lion patiently stares at me.

  “I can't. Not again.”

  Sieghart frowns and looks at me. “… The monster won't stop. You called it. You can see it in its eyes.” He points, and my gaze follows his finger to the village. “What about them?”

  I frown. Looks of fear, terror, hatred. Looks of pity. And what about them?

  He points to Elron. “What about him?”

  This feeling—the same feeling that prevented me from controlling Chaos during the test. The same thoughts and whispers that plant the doubt of despair. Would I enjoy the destruction I would cause? Would I be absorbed by randomness? What happens if this chain I've been fighting so hard for all this time breaks? What happens if the lion I've ignored so much recognizes my existence? What happens if I lose control, and just as the memories of yesteryear insist on telling me, once again take over the world itself with calamity and darkness?

  Why do I ask myself the wrong questions, the ones that are beyond my understanding, knowing that they won't matter if I do what needs to be done?

  Because, of course, I want it to be interrupted.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I clench my fists and press the back of my head against the floor. I couldn't go back if I were a normal man. I couldn't resist pain or temptation.

  But in the Unknown, I've faced much worse pains than that. There, I have resisted temptations far greater than consenting to weariness in the comfort of death. That's why I clench my teeth and force myself against the ground until I'm on my feet. That's why I clasp my hands together, even if they brake.

  Unable to act, the hallucinations begin to awaken. Visions of a future I'll never have—of a past I've never had. I had already gone far beyond the limits that I could withstand Chaos without losing control.

  The creature bolts towards me. A black figure looms over me as I clasp both hands together.

  The question—the right question—is not what or how, but why. Why save those who hate him so much, who fear and abhor him so much? Why should I care—sacrifice myself—to insects?

  No. It's not the right question. This one, after all, already has a clear answer.

  Because it's the right thing to do.

  Gates...

  “Open.”