#yummy yummy implied religious imagery

[tai-janai]

Reunite

Path 6: Truth

(Chapter Select)

You are given a moment to collect yourself before the Voice speaks.

Voice of the Hero:

Sorry.

"Why be sorry? Everything's where it should be."

Voice of the Hero:

I still don't like stabbing you.

You smile. A reasonable sentiment, but kind nonetheless.

You look around at the new, familiar cabin. This time it is not wood. Solid, smooth, stone bricks are the walls, and the floor is pristine white tile. There are metal bars over every window. The "table" that holds the blade looks more like a repurposed cage. Though everything is bright and quite clean, the air is damp and musty.

Voice of the Hero:

O...kay, it's probably the nicest one we've seen. But it really feels like a jail this time. That's... probably not a good sign, is it?

Voice of the Hero:

Oh, and I feel better this time. I'm still definitely with that other guy, but I'm way less aware of every piece of me. I can actually think again.

You nod assuredly. You'll need all the brainpower you can get if you're going to get the answers you're looking for.

Voice of the Hero:

Someone's got a pep in his step.

You take the shadow of the blade from the cage-like table. You shift it in your grasp, and wonder how it seems to evade your vision while still being something.

You walk toward the heavy wooden door and pull it open.

The stairs down are once again not stairs. A warped indent has been made into inclined wood slabs right down the middle. The walls and ceiling are solid metal. It isn't the worst, though. At least you can see a light at the bottom. It only puts you off because it is red.

You reach the bottom, and step into the red room. It is... chains. Everywhere you look, varying in size and connected to nothing, and all bathed in the red light that emits from a barred window on the far wall. Everything is sinister, dark, and cold.

Voice of the Hero:

Does this make things easier..?

A bright, almond-shaped eye blinks open at you, a pitch black pupil fixed on your figure. Something at the other end of the room is watching you. Then, another eye opens. And another.

There are five slanted eyes on a face that can be described as long and tapered. Then eyes that aren't connected to anything open around it, forming the shape of some sort of halo around the creature's head. Then, it rises.

It is unlike any other; serpentine and limbless. A long, scaled body is adorned with layers of chains and shackles that clatter and screech as it moves. It seems to have no end, the rest of it remains hidden under the piles of chains.

With an inclining of its head, and a dilation of many pupils, it speaks to you. Guarded, hesitant, and unsure, but clearly powerful.

Are you ready to answer my questions?

You shiver. It seems so above questions and answers.

Voice of the Hero:

D-Do you see an end to it anywhere?

Is that another?

The Hero:

Y-Yeah. If you wouldn't mind- Oh.

You blink, and find that you and the Other have separated once again. Completely painlessly, entirely unnoticeable.

The Hero:

That was weird...

Before you can say anything, you feel a set of chains wrap around your feet. With a grunt, you are hoisted into the air, dangling upside-down. The echo has slipped from your hold, joining the sounds of metal as it clatters to the floor.

Every chain in the room rustles and shifts as the Being slithers closer to you threateningly. Its ring of eyes spins about its head, then closes in around you, making you dizzy. Everything aches.

Why aren't you aggressive? Why was the one you brought inside of you?

The Hero:

No, please, let him go!

The Being's head only barely moves, but half of the eyes surrounding you flies to him in an instant, interrogative.

Why are you defending him? Do you know what he's done? Are you in on it?

The Hero:

O-One question at a time! I know what he's done, and it's nothing! I'm not "in on" anything, but I was in him.

In a flash, the chains around your ankles shift you. With some slack, more links are wrapped around the Other, too. Underneath their layer, there are the scales of the creature's long body, still obscured and still unending.

And to think you were like me. I should know by now that nothing in this place can be trusted.

Blood is rushing to your head, and you start to feel sick. It hurts.

Are you ready to give me answers, you freak? I can make things much worse for you.

You feel helpless in its grasp, eyed from every angle and unable to provide what it is so desperate for. Even if you knew anything, your mind is swimming too much to think. Muddled tears find themselves in your eyes, but not for yourself. You know this creature is pained, and that pain fuels its cynicism. It hurts.

You hear, but can't see, the other you fighting irrationally against the chains holding him.

The Hero:

Stop, stop!

The creature is monstrous, horrid, and cold. The ache around your ankles and the loss of blood makes your legs feel numb. It hurts. Everything hurts.

Your heart wants to comfort it. Your eyes shut, and tears fall from them, sliding down your forehead.

...What are you doing?

You extend your arms to the Being. You look past the eyes swarming your head into the wide ones on its scaly face. It is terrifying, and you want to hold it, to console it. You hurt. It hurts, too.

"I'm sorry. You must be... terrified."

It recoils at your sentiment. Chains crackle, and the light flickers.

"I'm sorry. I know you all hate me, but I don't know why. I don't know anything. I don't. I'm sorry."

The spinning of the inquisitive eyes slows. They are observing you closely. Your skin crawls; you can't stand being seen. Your eyes shut again, and you hide behind your trembling hands.

Gradually, you are lowered, back to the ground. Your ankles ache as the chains release them, laying you down. You can only wait for the blood warming your head to disperse back into your numb limbs.

The pain and suffering from all these creatures grips you. You want to help them, but their hate for you is overwhelming. Why do they hate you? Why are you of all things responsible for their pain?

You hear the Other beg the creature. It falls on deaf ears.

The Hero:

Let me go, please.

What is this?

The creature is in disbelief. You can't bring yourself to look at it. You, too, want answers. But nothing can give them to you. Not yet.

What are you doing?

"I'm sorry."

You can't muster up anything else. All you know is the ache in what you see before you.

That doesn't answer me.

A scaly tail wraps around your middle, a part of its body not draped in chains. You are brought to your feet and forced to stand and face it.

You have to know something. You put me here.

You look up at it. Its many eyes are contorted with raged confusion.

What are you hiding? This can't be it! There has to be something! You left me here for an eternity!

Your face is wet with tears. You grab for the scaly body that emerged from nowhere and continues on to nowhere. You want to hold it. You melt in its pain.

Stop! You're being pathetic!? How could you have- ...

The Hero:

He didn't.

He didn't. I know he didn't, I don't care! Why am I here!?

Its voice shakes the room. Every chain rattles. It is quiet for some time after, as everything stills.

"You deserve answers. I'm sorry."

Quit... Quit your apologizing. You are... absolutely pitiful.

The limb around your body releases you slowly, ensuring you stay on your feet. The light overhead is less red, and has become more of a light pink.

There were probably better ways to do this on my end, too.

You shake your head, wiping your wet face.

"You have every right to be infuriated. I don't know what happened to you, but I know I'd want me dead, too."

There is the sound of chains moving and scraping, and the Being slithers towards you. It is enormous; its head is as long as your arm, and you probably couldn't wrap your arms around the entirety of its neck if you tried. Five wide, angled eyes look at you closely. The eyes that were floating around you are now drifting in a circle above the two of you.

With the light less of a harsh color, you can admire the royal purple and emerald green of the creature's scales. Chains obscure them, but you can't help but find it beautiful.

Your voice is wet and thick with your choking sobs.

"I have no answers for you. I want to find them, too. Will you let me help you look for them?"

The Being tilts its head in disbelief.

You?

From your side, still absolutely swamped by chains, the other you speaks up.

The Hero:

I know he doesn't look it now, but he can really be quite the card.

Even if you aren't what put me here. You've come into this dungeon and start sobbing. Excuse me if I'm not keen on working with you.

"You don't have to get along with me, but, please. Let me free you."

The Being's next question is not interrogative, but genuine, almost concerned.

What are you?

You look up at it, still unable to answer. It is still only a couple feet away from you. The eyes on its face close, and the floating ones blink out of existence.

You outstretch your arm, and hear the rustling of feathers. They are... everywhere. Diving between rows of chains, flurrying everywhere throughout the room, even behind you. There seems to be a pattern, one continuous body, obscured, but the feathers float in on and confine it to the other side of the room. There are loud clashes as the thick clasps come undone and crash into each other.

The only chains left behind in the room is one long, thick one. Everything else was, apparently, part of the Being.

Feathers dissipate behind a creature shaped like you. It wobbles on its legs, unused to them. It rolls its shoulders. It hasn't had limbs in quite some time. You walk to it, also unsteady.

The Skeptic:

Truth and answers are pretty different matters, aren't they?

Your shoulders relax as you sigh.

Everything about this one is sharp. Its feathers are pointed, and its scales are angled in a protective pattern. Its eyes still hold a sense of inquisition. It tilts its head.

The Skeptic:

Why do you look like me?

"Do I look like you? Or do you look like me?"

The Skeptic:

Well there's more of us than there is of you. That implies that you look like us, but I guess it doesn't confirm it.

You are happy that the Being has returned to "normal," but you are pained at the thought of continuing.

The Skeptic:

So, we leaving this place or what?

You hang your head with a small, sad smile.

In a flash, the new one's eyes go wide and its claws grip you. You are pulled behind it as its wings expand. It takes a defensive pose.

The other you has walked up behind where you were, having retrieved the blade's echo. The new one was protecting you from what comes next.

The Skeptic:

What are you doing?

The Other gestures vaguely.

The Hero:

Okay. Yeah, this looks bad, now that I think about it.

You place a reassuring hand on the new one's shoulder. It flinches under you. With a double take, it looks back at you.

"It's okay."

The Skeptic:

What? He's going to... Ah.

With a smidge of embarrassment, it lowers its guard.

The Skeptic:

So... That's how you got here. You did just show up upstairs. I'm guessing you don't know what's outside the cabin.

The Hero:

We can go find out.

He smiles as the new one squints at him suspiciously.

The Skeptic:

You don't go with him?

The Hero:

Uhh, yes and no.

The Skeptic:

That's not an answer.

You droop, exhausted.

The Hero:

That's as much the truth as it is! Look, I'll explain everything once I slay him, okay? There are others that need to be freed.

The Skeptic:

Others...

With that, he backs off, lost in his own mind. The Other sighs and steps forward.

The Skeptic:

So, you just let him kill you?

"I've done it a lot. I'm used to it by now."

A look of pity flashes across its face.

The Skeptic:

If you're sure.

The Hero:

May I continue, sir?

They glare at each other.

The Skeptic:

Only if you can do it correctly.

The other you groans, and raises the blade. You tense. You are still afraid of it.

The knife is buried in your heart. He does it swiftly, to prove a point. Though the aggression is not towards you, it seeps into your wound.

It is quiet, and everything goes dark.