—— ? ——

  Simon lost track of how long it had been since he had practised with his own will. Time had lost meaning in the Gallery. Days blurred into loops, loops into patterns, patterns into chains. Even his dreams had fled from him. His sleep melted into the torture. Blank voids where he lacked existence.

  There was only the song.

  Riptide.

  He didn't even hate it. Hate requires feelings. He wasn't angry. He wasn't sad. He just existed. Simon was a passenger. A puppet. A string humming to someone else's will.

  His body moved, but not for him. His voice rang out, but it wasn't Simon. Notes poured from fingers he did not move, words shaped by lips that weren't his to use. Melodian used him like a marionette. The god strummed strings with perfect timing.

  The god even used his voice to praise his wretched results.

  "Practice makes progress!" the god would exclaim. "We're so close, Simon!"

  There was no "we". Just a mad god using a mortal as a tool. When had he gone back to using my name? Did it even matter coming from my own mouth?

  Then, after so many puppeteering sessions, Simon would find himself on the stage.

  The accursed stage of torment.

  Melodian's avatar had tried to use his puppeteering trick during the first trip to the stage. Simon hadn't even looked at the prompt.

  "Bah, I knew the test wouldn't allow this to work. But it was worth testing! Don't you agree, Simon?" Simon's body said.

  Simon had felt the god release partial control back. He still felt the disgusting divine presence. Simon tried to emulate what the god had done. His mind was breaking, but he knew if he could just finish this wretched thing, he would be free from his torture.

  It hadn't worked.

  "Come now, Simon, you need to watch more carefully and put your soul into it!" The god had laughed maniacally through his body.

  "Although I guess I got excited and used you to perform at too high of a level. Let's go back and show you more basic patterns! Practice, practice, practice!"

  In an instant, the void of the gallery had returned. Simon's body and voice were back to being another's.

  This repeated over and over. Sessions in the gallery, attempts on the stage, Melodian's laughter and sickening words through his voice.

  Simon was going to break.

  Attempt #476 said the prompt from the cycle of torture.

  Simon tried to scream.

  Nothing.

  Attempt #471.

  Simon watched his body strum, again and again. He barely heard the echo of vocals in this loop. His stolen voice mocked him.

  Is this it? Is this all my life will be now? A toy. A tool. A plaything of another being. His mind retreated deeper into himself; perhaps there was a place so deep that even the god couldn't reach.

  Attempt #485.

  Simon lost his perception of the world around him. The feeling of his fingers moving, the strain of his vocal cords. Sight, smell, vision all faded.

  What an absolute load of garbage. Gods? Magic? Skills? Growth?

  Bullshit.

  He had been hopeful. This new world was terrifying, but it had offered promises.

  What was that line the Lying System used?

  Harmony is offered. Growth is earned. Limits are unknown.

  Lies.

  Since being under these new cosmic rules, Simon had been pushed around against his will. The System had offered an optimal "choice". A god who would enslave him. The System had confirmed it.

  Was that a lie too? Was every deity just a slaver in disguise?

  Attempt #487.

  Why had he even tried? This new world was even more unfair than the one before. Powerful beings had already decided what they would do with mere mortals.

  Simon's mind went dark. There was no hope, no future, nothing. He couldn't even shut his eyes and fade away.

  Attempt #502.

  A performance on the tortured stage.

  It ended.

  The god took his voice.

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  "There you go! There you go! Just a few more, Simon!" His body said, excited at the change in the review. "Just look at these results! With a little more practice and we will be done!"

  Was he closer? Was this almost over? Could he escape? Simon started to read the prompt.

  No, a deep part of him whispered.

  Simon stopped reading.

  No.

  It was quiet, but it was him. He let himself fall close to the abyss. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't. Melodian was one being. There were more.

  I refuse.

  Simon felt the god release his voice.

  "No," Simon whispered, tasting the word. He felt the sickening frown of his own eyebrows.

  The god took back everything.

  "Oh, don't be like that. Back to practice, my little Simon. This is so much fun! Just think, you can tell my other followers about the privilege. Think of the benefits. You will be one who has felt the divinity of Melodian the Magnificent!" Simon's mouth said in a chipper tone. "Back to practice!"

  Simon was back in the gallery. His mind was stirring.

  Attempt #510.

  He would never stop.

  Simon had gone to the brink, stared, then returned.

  His memory stirred within him. A passage rolled through his thoughts.

  "...Every step is a choice. Each of them should be filled with your intent. Otherwise, you will be moved by someone else…" The damned worshiper of Varrax had written.

  Attempt #512.

  Simon focused. Filled with intent? I can do that, you stupid world. Simon snarled mentally.

  He felt his forgotten rage boil and rise. It condensed into a single word.

  No.

  Attempt #524.

  No. No. NO! A river of emotions flowed through him.

  Rage.

  Despair.

  Disgust.

  They surged and swirled. Simon kept channeling more and more. He remembered his struggles, his pain, his endless clawing towards a future he needed.

  No… a future that I will have. His thoughts whispered under the currents.

  Attempt #540.

  Simon's fingers faltered for a moment.

  "Wh.. what?" Simon's voice exclaimed. "Strange…"

  The god continued to play with his puppet.

  Attempt #541... Attempt #542... Attempt #543.

  Simon's body froze mid-chord, the echoes of his voice the only sound in the Gallery.

  A vibration, not from the instrument, but from somewhere within Simon, resonated outward like a tuning fork. It shoved outwards, and he felt the divine hand trying to move his fingers, to touch his voice.

  Simon pushed back. The Gallery trembled.

  "No...more," Simon muttered, his voice shaking.

  A long silence. Stillness in his limbs as the god's control froze.

  "Get." Simon haltingly wrenched his overused vocal cords. "Out. of. ME!"

  Everything Simon was—his trials, his triumphs, his suffering—shoved back against the god.

  A soft chime broke the silence. Simon knew that sound.

  It was the System.

  — SYSTEM NOTICE —

  SKILL UPGRADE

  > Skill: [ Stubborn Resilience (Minor) ] → [ Unshakeable Resilience (Unique) ]

  > Previous: Stubborn Resilience (Minor)

  Description:

  > You don't know when to quit, and your body and mind are starting to agree.

  > Enhances your ability to endure and stay standing when you really shouldn't.

  Effects:

  > Threshold Stabilization:

  > Increases your chances of staying conscious during critical injuries.

  > Moment of Grit:

  > When falling below a health threshold, you may ignore minor debuffs (pain, dizziness, fatigue) for a short time.

  > Presence Resistance:

  > Slight increase to resistance against external pressure.

  > Upgrade: Unshakeable Resilience (Unique)

  Description:

  > You don't know when to quit, and your body and mind agree.

  > Every step forward is a choice. Every breath, an act of will.

  > Let them fill with your intent.

  > For you refuse to be moved by anyone or anything but yourself.

  Effects:

  Firm Soul:

  > Your soul resists direct control, anchoring your identity against external forces.

  > Attempts at possession or coercion must now contend with your internal will and resolve.

  Threshold Stabilization:

  > Increases chance to stay conscious during injuries by channeling intent and resolve to stabilize both mind and body.

  Presence Resistance:

  > When reduced to critical health or exposed to extreme stress, you may ignore minor debuffs (pain, dizziness, fatigue) for a short time. Duration scales with willpower.

  You have been used, bent, and broken. Yet still, you stand.

  You are still under observation by the System.

  Harmony is offered, growth is earned, limits are unknown.

  ——————————

  Simon dismissed the prompt. In front of him, Melodian's avatar had appeared.

  The god stood in horror and shock.

  Simon was back. He was in control.

  The guitar clattered to the floor. He didn't look down. He only met the god's frozen gaze.

  "Get me the HELL out of this gallery, you worthless sack of shit." Simon barked.

  The god gazed at the mortal. Simon blinked, then stumbled back as the god appeared inches from him, his hand on his head.

  As the avatar's hand touched his skin, the pressure returned. That disgusting, smothering feeling felt as if it coated him.

  "FUCK." Simon's jaw clenched, his eyes burning with rage. "OFF!"

  He reached out to the pressure, then strangled it and shoved.

  "What?!" Melodian screeched, pulling away as if his hand had been burned. His divine eyes shifted down, and he stared at his hand in horror.

  "I said. Get me. OUT!" Simon shouted back. "Now! You crazy maniac!"

  The god's expression shifted to anger. He hissed, then disappeared.

  Simon braced himself for another attempt by the god. But the gallery was silent.

  Oh great. He's leaving me in the kennel of growth. Fantastic.

  Simon tried to turn his head, but the strange magic of the gallery resisted the movement. A moment later, he relaxed his neck muscles and his head was turned back to the 'lesson'.

  What did that skill say?

  "Attempts at possession or coercion must now contend with your internal will and resolve."

  Simon thought of the gallery.

  Yeah, it totally counts. Come on, Unshakeable Resilience, let's take you for a spin.

  He glanced around the gallery, ignoring its pathetic attempts to make him read the notices of his failures.

  Simon gathered his resolve and focused.

  Let. Me. Out.

  The Gallery shook.

  Simon smiled as he poured himself into the effort.

  Everything cracked; it was like an earthquake resonated from Simon.

  After a few moments, the Gallery couldn't take it anymore.

  The scene shattered into shards of reality, revealing darkness behind it.

  The darkness enveloped him, and the memory was gone.

  Why was it so dark?

  Oh.

  Simon opened his eyes, revealing the inside of the Gallery of Growth.

  The magical sphere was erratic and flickered in a variety of colors. Then it faded.

  Simon searched his surroundings and could not find the Avatar of Melodian.

  With a massive grin, Simon stretched and then whistled a horrible rendition of Riptide as he strolled from the building.

  "Ohhhhhhhhhh, Mr. Melodian the Minisculeeeeeee!" Simon sang out, gloriously off-key. "Where are youuuuuuuuu!"

  He casually walked around the realm looking for his missing mentor.

  "I wonder where he went?" Simon asked himself out loud. "My teacher seems to be taking the day off!"

  He finished walking the inner circle, and Melodian the Miniscule was nowhere to be seen.

  Now what should I do? Hm… Simon pondered. He was enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the realm. It was good to be himself again.

  As he looked around, his eyes fell on one building.

  The Bardic Armory, the building that housed every torture device known to humanity.

  Simon stared at the building.

  He had an idea.

  Simon sauntered towards the building, resuming his horrible off-key whistling.

  A wicked grin spread across his face.

  —— ? ——