#AB is emotionless and lacks understanding but he’s kinda mad at Rulers

[hanakihan]

I’ve been having a fever, so have a bit of jinchul meeting AB and becoming their successor

a small warning tho, there’s not really graphic description of gore and abstract decaying descriptions as well as AB being cryptic and Jin-Chul having near hysteria

Everything smelled of rot here.

Jin-Chul remembered hot searing pain, the cracking of his own bones and muscles tearing like an old cloth that wasn’t needed anymore. Before losing consciousness to darkness from shock of pain, he saw his own limbs twisting in ways they clearly shouldn’t be for a human.

To think he was killed like an unwanted doll some child got bored of and decided to see how long it will take before it falls apart. Well, he did expect death as one of endings to his extremely stupid decision of coming to double dungeon Hunter Sung fell a victim to because of course it’s his job to jump after S ranks when they do something. He doesn’t regret his own death, now that he thinks about it (he’s able to think?), but dragging others with him leaves him with a strong taste of bitterness on his tongue (his own blood?).

What he didn’t expect is to still be able to open his eyes after them supposedly falling out of his sockets from pressure. And he does wish his sockets were empty still because light that meets his is painfully white, even burning in its brightness. He instinctively closes them and frowns, bringing up his shaking hands to his face only to feel his cold fingers and lack of equipment. As he moved, he heard a really loud scrapping noise and crashing of metal pieces in absolute silence around him, feeling how some weight disappeared off him.

Jin-Chul took a long minute to stay with his eyes closed, trying to listen to what happens around him and wondering why he’s still alive.

Then again, is he truly alive or is it some agony hallucination he’s having as his mind went into shock from pain?

He really doesn’t want to think about it too much, not in his last minutes before he completely succumbs to agony and finally dies. Maybe he should think about something nice, but then again when something nice happened in his life?

Still facing down, he slowly lowered his hands, and opened his eyes. First thing he notices is a cold white marble floor he’s been sitting on this whole time, so stark white under his dirty bloody suit pants. He’s barefoot for some reason and it’s freezing, he can’t see his toes but he feels dried crust on them. Trying to move only made crust crumble a little and intensify bloody smell that mixes with already strong rotting scent.

(Was he rotting or is there something else that’s been rotting?)

Then he looks at his shaking hands, so pale and almost bloodless, cold to touch and so artificial to his own body. At first he didn’t even notice white ruined shirt he’s wearing but then same dark red crust (was it his own blood?) on torn sleeves made it look like his own hands were torn off and attached as an afterthought.

(He starts to feel like an old reattached doll more and more and he doesn’t like it.)

His hair is a mess from what he feels, but at least this messy curtain hides him from blinding light and need to face his surroundings right away, and he’s grateful for that. There’s also a dull pain in his forehead and he frowns once again, but this time he also feels crust crumble here too, and then warm blood leaks down his brow and in his eye, so he wipes it off with his hand. It’s disgusting and definitely not how he usually would’ve done it, but right now he doesn’t really care. He’s dying anyway so at least he’ll die in small comfort he can find.

(Curse this damned statue and it’s ridiculously giant stone book—)

There’s still that strong smell of rot around him but he’s not really bothered by it. It doesn’t make him gag and want to cover his nose. It’s sickeningly sweet and foul, with hint of wetness and dust to it. He awkwardly wonders if it’s actually his own scent.

「To think that a mere human can find their way into my grave.」

Jin-Chul twitches and goes completely still, holding his breath and staring down at his own hands. In silence a myriad of voices, male and female, elderly and childish, worldly and outwordly was an explosive cacophony that left his ears ringing. It was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so close yet so far, embracing him fully but also staying away. He knew that something was addressing him, but he was too stunned to even react as echo of words danced around further and further into nothingness. He must’ve stayed silent for too long for the voice (voices?) to speak up again.

「You shall not fear, human. Rise your head up and face your God properly.」

Jin-Chul really wanted to go hysterical right now, because at the end of the day facing a God (is it truly a God, though?) in his dying moment absolutely wasn’t on his list. He really would’ve preferred to stay like that, facing down and just waiting for eternal nothingness, but something commanding in this voice (voices?) and looming shadow over him made him slowly rise his head.

He almost screamed seeing a gigantic white figure looming over him.

A man (woman? something?) with long, snow white hair that fell around them in a silky pool, almost merging with marble in color. Jinchul was partly glad that it blocked most of searing light from above and hid him from whatever was happening outside. Some of loose locks fell on Jin-Chul too, like a small waterfall, on his shoulders, arms and legs, as if he’s a stray butterfly that got caught in a spider web. A figure had empty glowing eyes, and staring back in them Jin-Chul saw sea of stars, so bright and vibrant in their long lived glory, yet so dangerous and distant.

Both kept staring at each other, none making a move or speaking up for a long time. That’s exactly when Jin-Chul noticed that his heart isn’t even beating and that all this time he wasn’t breathing. Realization didn’t terrify him as much as he would’ve expected.

Rotting scent intensified with this figure looming over him, and Jin-Chul, unable to hold eye contact any longer, lowered his eyes. This time he noticed that this being had several wounds in their chest, all empty see-through holes with golden crust around them. There’s white nothingness instead of meat or muscles, but marble ribs are visible, covered in golden cracked roots with blooming glowing flowers on them.

Looking down even more Jin-Chul absentmindedly notes that he can see their marble spine laying on floor further back with what was left of their flesh and robes. That would explain the rotting scent mixed with flowery sweetness.

‘So… the God can also die?..’

And then Jin-Chul snapped his head back up, staring in same unchanging eyes in fear. Can a God read minds? Did he offend them? Devoid of any emotion face didn’t tell him anything, instead proceeding to stare back.

「Humans truly are fearless creatures. To think you’ll dare to openly stare at my body and have such thoughts, yet We feel no offense in that. No wonder He decided to chose a human as His successor.」

Words traveled further into nothingness without leaving a God’s closed mouth. Jin-Chul kept sitting here unmoving, feeling how something cold and liquid touched his hand. His gaze unwillingly lowered, surprised to see a pool of liquid gold slowly accumulating around him and this being, flowing from holes he previously saw. It’s cold, yet at the same time it eases a subtle pain in places where it touches. Jin-Chul states in wonder and uneasiness as gold on his hand erases old ugly scars and eases pains in knuckles.

「We and you are dying, human. Tell Us, do you wish to perish with Us into nothingness or continue your existence?」

So he’s truly dying.

Jin-Chul wonders if it would be easy to just perish. To forget all this pain, and agony and just rest?

But then he’ll leave others alone. To die. To die painfully just because of his awful decisions. He’s afraid of death, he’s afraid of what comes after it. He remembers how Hunter Sung described death to him, out of nowhere when they were drinking tea.

Oh and tea and all small comforts that make life enjoyable and good. He remembers all warm greetings and sweet goodbyes, he remembers all those connections he formed in his life, bad and good, wrapped around him just like silky waterfalls he’s tangled in now. It hurts in all best ways, the memory and feels of what it means to live and be a human, and intensity of it is enough to make his heart beat one more time and for him to take a shaky wet breath to give a proper answer.

He stares back into golden universe, with certainty and no fear, eyes wet with unshed tears and lips quivering in crooked smile.

‘Yes.’

All it takes is a mere second of nothingness before figure above him hums in some sort of satisfaction and allows themselves to smile. And then skin on this beautiful face starts to rot in ugly charred black, as if being burned like a piece of paper, leaving behind marble bones and gold. Body falling apart as if a stone statue being broken to pieces, hair burning into decaying flower petals and gold flowing in waterfalls, drowning Jin-Chul in it. There’s no more bitterness and rot on his tongue, as flowers bloom in his mouth, filling it with sickening sweetness and making him drunk.

Jin-Chul remembered pleasing coldness, the cracking of his own bones and muscles sewn together by golden roots. Before losing consciousness to embrace of gold sea from relief, he saw a God giving their last gift before being reborn.