1048. I Failed Many
Perils awaited every corridor. Acedia began to second guess whether it was worth possessing Frost’s body when she was constantly being put in front lines. She had honestly believed being Frost would mean boundless pleasures and, most importantly, fulfilment.
But it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Five hours had already passed. Over a hundred trapped corridors were cleared, and the Judge’s Prides had mapped enough dead ends to give them a rough idea on the layout of the maze.
Still, their primary technique hinged on Jury’s claws which scraped along the walls. It was impossible to tell how much longer they had until they reached the end. Frost expected it to take another few hours, or days at worst.
All they had to do was follow Jury.
Their exploration eventually led them to a part of the maze that resembled an ice cavern. Jagged icicles hung from the distant ceiling like knives ready to fall at any moment. But looks were deceiving. They appeared tiny from a distance, but when one fell, Joy jumped back in surprise, crying: “Malgam!?”
It was nowhere near them, but the size alone was easily over ten meters tall, and five meters at its widest point. They posed little threat to them, but Frost could imagine how these would be a nightmare to deal with.
For instance, another two fell and blocked the end of the corridor. An Acolyte would lack the appropriate strength to clear the path ahead. Nor did she imagine they possessed enough dexterity to avoid the falling icicles.
“Dead silent until it’s too late.” Res seemed impressed by this, and her opinion was seconded by a nod from Raoul. “Stick close, girls. If my tail isn’t touching you then you’re at risk.”
“Same nosy Res.” Orth brushed the tail hovering by her waist.
“Needy Res.” Thras squeezed it lightly, as if to test if this was the same tail as the pre-Realized Res.
“Won’t you squeeze mine?” Of course, Jury couldn’t help herself. The fuzzy tail wrapped a loop around Frost’s and Joy’s waist as they trailed closely behind. “Please~?”
“Yes, yes.” Frost sighed. “Hm? Joy? You’re looking at the ceiling now. What’s up there?”
“Gam.”
There wasn’t anything peculiar about the ceiling. However, Frost quickly noticed the blue fading to a light purple. She wasn’t the only one who noticed this, and when they made a right turn at the next corridor, they were greeted with a grand expanse.
It was closer to a chamber than a corridor, and was easily several kilometers long, and exactly five hundred meters wide. Entrances into other sections of the maze lined along the walls, and littering the chamber were glacial spires that rose to the ceiling.
Faces and contorting statues were melded into the great spires, depicting melodramatic expressions of joy, misery, sadness, wrath and resignation. Beneath it was an amalgamation of screaming skulls surrounded by death’s scythe.
The piece could have easily been a centerpiece of an Emperor’s throne room. The artistry would have also made it eligible to be displayed among Earth’s finest art galleries. But here, it was relegated to a place where few would stop to admire it, if at all.
Moreover, eighty-four of these pieces littered the crystal chamber. Frost, captivated by the artistry, had almost overlooked the layout of the chamber itself. Halfway through the chamber, where the ceiling began to turn purple, were isolated walls.
“Shit…” Frost blurted out precisely as Jury’s tongue clicked with irritation.
“The technique will not work anymore. I feared we’d come across detached walls.” Jury hissed.
“Gam?” Joy was confused as to why this was problematic.
“Lemme borrow your tail, Jury.” Frost took the tip of Jury’s tail and began drawing into the ice beneath. “Say this is a maze. We’ve been using the one-hand on the wall technique as a guaranteed way to find the exit. The wall will, eventually, lead us to the exit. But that was assuming this was an enclosed maze.”
She sketched a crude drawing of a maze. Then, she drew another maze surrounding it.
“Imagine we’re here right in the center. This is an isolated wall. Or detached if you want to call them that. No matter how long we follow the wall, we’ll never escape the maze. I was also afraid of this. Dammit…”
“On the bright side, using that technique would have moved us away from the chamber.” Res found a silver lining.
“It does give the impression of the correct path. Otherwise, why else would such an elaborate display of anguish exist here?” Acedia sung. “To instill fear into their Acolytes. An excellent method of coercion. I’ve seen this used as motivation as well… Like that one time I half-digested a young man’s moth–”
“Don’t you dare say that with my face.” Frost snapped. “Start walking. You lead this time.”
“Are my methods not artistically pleasing? Or do you prefer the methods of the Black Doves?” Acedia referred to how the Black Doves would collect bodies into amalgamated clumps of living meat using Serum L – Lacrimal.
The depiction of misery on the spires was not that different from those meatballs, nor the faces of the guards Frost had once fused together using Overheal.
“We don’t boast…” Frost didn’t, but she knew her Black Wings certainly did boast about their cruelty. “… most of the time.”
“Our Angels are just boasting about the good deeds they’ve committed. I don’t see anything wrong with that~” Jury’s giggle silenced them. “Look ahead. The detached walls have a purple glow to them. Ahh~! Looking Glass!”
She was right.
Embedded within the detached walls were large obsidian panes. They were carved into perfect rectangles. Despite their highly reflective surface, it only reflected the person who was staring at it.
Frost knew the dangers associated with the Looking Glass. Without [Appraise Object], it was impossible to tell what grade they were. These objects were the source of simulating the Curse of the Descent and Ascent (the creation of Impuritas). It was also theorized that it could, in extreme circumstances, induce Corruption as its process forced the onlooker to enter a state of introspection.
Jury rushed over without a second thought, skipping along the ice and twirling in the mirror. Her eyes bloomed but quickly mellowed as she leaned in and puffed her cheeks.
“Awww. I have no halo in my reflection.”
She did not experience an introspection. It was to be expected. After all, Jury’s sense of self was among the highest in the Nexus. However, it did not change that Jury still found a refracted image deep within the web of obsidian cracks.
“Close your eyes, Joy. You shouldn’t look into the Looking Glass.” Frost gently cupped Joy’s eyes.
“Gam…”
“I see the post-Realized version of myself.” Res brushed it off.
Acedia was silent on what she saw, as was Raoul. The former wore a conflicted expression. Eyes were drawn deeply into the Looking Glass with reverence, but Acedia’s fingers and mouth twitched as though repulsed by the versions of herself displayed before her like a kaleidoscope of colors.
The Looking Glass showed a person every possible version of themselves to a debilitating effect. Due to this, it was not hard to see why it often resulted in a loss of one’s sense of self. Jury had once described the Looking Glass as a superposition of oneself. But Frost thought it was closer to a refraction.
< Does it not remind you of the variations of Cer? >
For me? Personally? It fits the idea of the outward persona. Isn’t that what Impuritas are? At least, the ones without a Heart. It also reminds me of Phantasia. But I’m not sure the Looking Glass is related to Desires as much as it is to, say… Purpose? Since it’s here? The color scheme makes me think of Attachment.
“Hora Therapeutics could use some extra shards.” Since the Looking Glass was an object, Frost easily pocketed fragments into her [Dimensional Storage]. “Got any stories about these for us, Raoul?”
“I’d sound like Acedia if you allowed me to recount my tales. Best that I don’t, for your sake.”
“Forget I asked. Orth. Thras. You two ok?”
The twins were enchanted by the mirror. As Shells, there was little the Looking Glass could do to them. Slowly, the two turned to Raoul, and then they stared down at themselves, as though a glimpse of their old selves had returned to pity what they had become.
“Raoul.” (Orth).
“What do you see in the Looking Glass?” (Thras).
It was an innocent question. Raoul had already refused to utter her findings. But because it was those two who asked, she cleared her throat, thrust her hands into her pockets, and recited:
“A rugged mut begging to be put down.”
“Why?” (Orth).
“How come?” (Thras).
The twins looked up at Raoul and watched her face scrunch in misery. Her expression darkened, hair covering her eyes. She could not even spare a look towards the twins.
“Because I’ve failed many.”
The two froze. Hidden within those words as a second meaning that only the twins understood. Raoul swiftly turned her back to them, just the twins reached for each other’s face, pinching at their cheeks to force a smile. She did not notice this.
Frost could not believe how dense she was. The moment her jaw hung ready to berate Raoul, Res stepped in and grabbed her by the collar, bringing her down to her level.
Then, she erupted.
“Would it kill you to talk to them properly!? Look at them! They’re still trying to get you to acknowledge them! Why are you still like this!? Haven’t you seen what it’s done to us!? What you did to Cer by walking alone, thinking you know what’s the best for everyone around you!? You think dying is the solution!?”
“I was and still is.”
Res’ grip tightened. In an instant, Raoul’s back was pressed against the wall. Despite her rage, she displayed excellent level of control over her strength, a testament to her emotional growth.
This was one of the few, if not the first time, Frost had seen Res’ ire. Had she been in her normal body, then the world would have been painted in a childish depiction of hell. Raoul was utterly helpless against her strength. But every nerve ending on Frost’s body told her that even if Raoul had the means to resist, she would resign herself to whatever abuse came her way.
“If you truly believe it, then look at them, and say it to their faces like the man you are! Or is this the real you!? Have you always been a coward!?”
Res slammed her again.
“Why do you care?” Raoul croaked, unfazed by this.
“Why…? Tch… Why… Yeah. Why do I still care? I care because I love my brother. All we ever had was family. But this? You? You’re… you’re not Raoul. Raoul wasn’t a coward. Raoul had a dream. Raoul wished, more than anyone, to live like the everyday man! Wasn’t that his dream!? What happened to it!?”
“A dream is just that.” She said faintly, as though speaking from an unpleasant dream. “It ended when I opened my eyes and saw the truth. There is nothing for us in the future.”
“My nightmare also began when I opened my eyes! But I’d rather face my fear than live my life filtering colors! What’s your fixation on the future!? How do you feel right now!?”
Of the countless words directed to Raoul like blades, the last managed to pierce through her armor.
The talk of the present shook Raoul.