Chapter 81: Episode 12-Nefarious Sloth (5)
Ethan rested near Marcus, ready to fall into a deep slumber. Before he did, he said along the lines, "Aliana consider my offer since we don't have much time." Then he fell asleep like a cat. It was so instantaneous, it was almost unbelievable. I looked at my friend.
"So, what did he mean by that?"
"Nothing. Imma watch over Max."
Aliana ignored my question. I knew she was using Max as an excuse to avoid me.
(Why does everything feel so far away?)
My relationships, my dreams, my sense of self - everything once within reach felt intangible now. After everything happened, I began thinking. Why this happened to me, what I felt, and how it was affecting me. This sense of powerlessness stemmed from a lack of control. I never realized, but the world gave me everything I wanted. I had a comfortable life, a school full of peers, and parents who supported me.
(Even then, I wasn't fully appreciative.)
Now here I was, with less than before. I sighed in exasperation.
(I should stop being negative.)
I looked at Ethan and pondered who he was.
(How did he make those large jumps? He freaking flew.)
It was like a superhero movie. If I increased my stats high enough, could I achieve that? Ethan jumped three stories down and walked it off.
(How did he get so many coins though?)
My blood ran cold as I came to a natural conclusion. First, he either entertained the Constellations to make them donate. After living in his hell, I knew what they were interested in. Then there was the second option: he killed people for their coins.
(It's probably both.)
[Your Constellation Sponsor is egging you on.]
[Your Constellation Sponsor wants you to end the suspicious Incarnation.]
I froze, which had nothing to do with the cool night air. My sponsor wanted me to kill Ethan? The thought entered my mind and-
(No.)
-went out the next second. I was sick of these scenarios. The murder, the vulgarity... I thought about what was happening in the classrooms below and felt ill. When I thought about murder, I remembered the First Scenario.
(I don't want to kill anyone.)
Not again.
***
(Is this what London feels like?)
I tried to use my voice, but my mouth wouldn't open and my throat wouldn't work. I could only hear and project my thoughts.
I was trekking in a dark abyss. Unlike my dreams, which felt like ocean voids, this place felt akin to a sea of thick fog. It resisted and bent around my presence, as though I was falling through nimbostratus clouds.
(Am I falling or walking?)
The sensation of gravity wasn't here, but zero-gravity was absent too. This space didn't obey any laws of physics.
(It must be a dream then. Was I successful?)
As I slept, I thought of Marcus. I attempted to get into his head and see what was happening. Is this dark space his mental defense?
(I feel like this is a very deep, psychological representation of Marcus's mind.)
Sucks that I'm not a psychologist or therapist. Anyways, how was I gonna get out of this twilight zone?
[Constellation "All-Devouring Wolf of Apocalypse" is staring at you.]
(I can still see Constellation messages?)
I waited for other messages, but that was the only one. I see how it is; only Marcus's sponsor can access his headspace. When I realized this, something brushed against my leg.
(Oh, what the hell was that?!)
I looked down and saw a wolf pup. It was an adorable little critter; it had dark fur, precious eyes, and white teeth in a grin. The wolf pup wagged its tail, as if eager to see me.
(Cute.)
Is this a representation of Fenris, though? It couldn't be since I read ASS, and his projected form was quite vicious.
(It must be Marcus.)
As if the wolf pup could read my thoughts, it shot up and dashed away from me.
(Hey! Get back here!)
I dove into this tumultuous void, desperately chasing the only sign of sentient life. As I did, multiple emotions smacked my body like rain droplets, but they weren't mine. Guilt, self-hatred, and remorse that could never receive forgiveness; these were Marcus's secret scars that he kept hidden. It was inner pain on an unprecedented scale.
As the wolf pup and I ventured deeper, I saw flashes of white light and heard thunderous roars.
[Fragment of the 4th Wall is thinning its defenses.]
Fraggy readjusted the skill. Afterwards, I perfectly saw and heard my surroundings; it was like sticking your head outside a car window. The brief flashes of illumination weren't "lightning;" they were vibrant memories flying past me. The roars of "thunder" weren't as they seemed. I listened closely but shuddered when I realized. It sounded as though someone was screaming in agony, trapped and alone.
In an attempt to distract myself, I peered at the memories whirling away.
(Come on, you're too slow!)
I saw a memory of two boys running through a park.
(Flower crowns are lame!)
(No, they're not! You gotta learn to sit still.)
(That's boooring!)
I heard the soft giggling of a young girl, and the complaints of a young Marcus. Feelings of dread and sympathy bloomed in my heart. I knew what would happen next.
(I hate this.)
Before I could see the next memory, I saw an 11-year-old Marcus sitting alone in the rain. He was in a park, resting on a wooden bench. The skies above Seattle were roaring, and his memory told me that the rain droplets felt like bullets. This memory looked depressing, but there was a strange mixture of emotions.
There was sorrow, but it morphed into a bittersweet melancholy. The memory told me via emotions, but it was Fraggy who articulated these complicated feelings.
[Marcus Santiago sat alone, the rain drenching him thoroughly. He was annoyed at first, but felt relieved soon after. One thing in this world didn't lie to him: nature. So brutal, so honest, it washed away all the lies, illusions, and abuse. In what felt like so long, Marcus thought clearly. As he did, he hated himself and the life he lived.]
[His roaring emotions were like a beast, consuming his sanity and peace of mind. Alas, he stood his ground and confronted it. His chest racked with guilt, his mind drowned in sadness, and his heart broke into pieces.]
[Although, at the end of this inner battle, Marcus felt something. A form of relief, soothing his pain. Like an infected wound being washed, Marcus felt cleansed.]
[Marcus's crushing sadness morphed into a freeing melancholy. He felt his sorrow to its fullest extent, something he couldn't do before. It slowly dripped away, like the rain on his skin.]
[For so long, Marcus felt like a dead man walking. Now he felt alive again.]
Fraggy's narration ended as the memory faded away. I continued to run through this headspace, seeking the wolf pup and the next memory, but the world loved to troll me.
-!WHAP!-
(Agh!)
My "running" came to a halt when I tripped and fell on my face. Instead of tumbling further into the void, I landed on something firm and soft. My hands groped my surroundings, but it was mainly my face that felt it.
"Grass."
My voice was tangible. I could actually hear myself. I must've traveled into a sturdier part of Marcus's psyche. I pushed myself upwards and stood as tall as I could. It didn't matter since I was Asian, but it was the effort that mattered.
I gazed at this new environment, which was a stark contrast from before.
(Whew boy.)
I was afraid to enter Marcus's mind. The Illusionary Pleasure would show the consumer's greatest desire, and I saw kids cooming their pants cause of Specter powder. Although, I should've trusted him more. What is Marcus Santiago's greatest wish?
"A beautiful world."
A fervent field of luscious grass was sprawled before my eyes. Powerful, towering trees dominated the landscape, poking through the Earth, and shielding the ground below. Prismatic flowers gently decorated the barren gaps, displaying a rich array of flora.
I was in a forest teaming with life. Squirrels ran past my feet and climbed into the trees. Birds flew overhead as stags ate plentiful vegetation. As I ventured farther, I saw rabbits hopping along, butterflies fluttering their wings, and bees harvesting nectar.
Every facet of forest life was present, making themselves known. It was like walking into an artist's whimsical painting, unhinged from the weighty reality.
(It's so beautiful, Marcus.)
I passed a tree, which had a dozen things living in it; owls, crows, squirrels, etc. As I absorbed this visage, I began to think. What would happen if I took the Specter powder? What was my deepest, intrinsic desire? I tried to think about myself, but it was difficult.
(I shouldn't be thinking about myself right now.)
I needed to focus on Marcus. I wanted to shout his name, but this vibrant forest had a beautiful soundtrack. Shouting was akin to a crime, and talking was social injustice. What right did I have to come here and interfere with this beauty?
[You 're too ab sor bed.]
(I can't help it.)
A beautiful world is Marcus's desire, but it was mine as well. I was sick of the city, the raucous people, the exhaust-filled air, the light-polluted night sky. The trash, the noises, everything. It was so gratifying when it burned away. Sadly, ashes remained, and natural beauty wasn't possible yet.
(But it's possible here.)
[St op it.]
[Fragment of the 4th Wall is invoking sobriety.]
My wall thickened and the fantastical feelings faded.
(It's beautiful. Too beautiful.)
Something like this... something so pure didn't exist anymore. My dreamy emotions evaporated because that's what this place is: a dream.
Even if such a paradise existed, it wasn't meant for people like me. I was too poor, too grimy, no, I wasn't privileged enough. Only the luxurious folk may enjoy such a basic comfort.
My anger flared. My society took so much from the next generation. I didn't want to fixate on each injustice, but nature was one of them. Before the Fall, fresh air didn't exist. Every time I stepped onto my front porch, there was always a new, vile smell: smoke, weed, or city pollution.
(This is why people use drugs.)
It was self-destructive control, but control nonetheless. In such a despicable world, people would cope with various methods. Feelings of rage boiled within my spirit and this latent resentment gave me the strength to ignore the peaceful surroundings.
(Marcus? Where you at?)
As if answering my call, the wolf pup appeared again. Its little tongue was sticking out, eager to see me. Its pure eyes stared into my soul, wondering what I'd do next.
"Hey... dream, wolf pup, little mammal dude. Do you know where Marcus is?"
[Smo o th que stion ing.]
(Oh, shut up.)
The little pup simply got up and ran.
(Bruh, dude, come on, more running?!)
I resumed my chase with the little pup, but it was a short bout. Soon after, I came upon another breathtaking sight.
"Wow."
Whenever you see fictional characters say "wow" or "woah," readers might think it's not a genuine reaction. I don't know about normal people, but a simple "wow" was mine.
It was several times larger than a football stadium; it went farther than I could see. It was a massive lake filled with the clearest water; so brilliantly blue, as if the sky fell to Earth. The water was welcoming, asking me to enter, and soothe my pain. It had a magical quality.
"It feels like I could walk on it."
I wanted to see if I could pull a Jesus Christ, but I ignored the urge. I swept my graze across the shore, and there he was.
"Marcus!"
I tried to search for the small wolf pup, but it seems the little guy was gone. I decided to ignore the pup's absence and run to Marcus. I want to say I did it dramatically, but my pace was a light jog. As I got closer, I saw him clearly.
Marcus was wearing a white dress shirt and grey pants. His feet were bare; the luscious grass was his carpet. He had a hand full of granola, and he threw it to the squirrels. They eagerly ate it or stuffed it in their cheeks. I saw Marcus's profile adorned with an easygoing smile. His face carried no stress, anxiety, or guilt. I paused and stared.
(Do I belong here?)
I know what I look like. I'm an edgy kid dressed in black, wearing a hood to hide my face. My presence is a consuming black hole, siphoning the joy and optimism. Residents of Garfield High school would glance at me, but avert their gaze from fear. Alicia and Aliana weren't any different at first. Maybe their opinion didn't change at all. I think those two are still afraid of me. Maybe I scare everyone around me.
(It doesn't matter anymore. It's too late now.)
"Marcus?"
My voice lost strength, and my calling came out as a croak. Still, it was enough. Marcus turned his attention to me-
"Ethan!"
-and smiled.
"You're here!"
Marcus got up, throwing all of the granola to the squirrels. They scrambled, greedily swarming around it. It was cute, though, so I couldn't judge their animalistic vice.
"Man, I thought I was the only one, but it seems there's other people! I panicked at first."
Marcus was talking to me, or maybe aloud to himself. His eyes were mirthful but absent as if he was happy but didn't know why.
"You still wearing that rain jacket? You're missing out. The breeze is incredible."
As if accommodating him, a refreshing gale blew. The tree branches rustled, and the crinkling leaves sang. Birds rode the air current and soared above our heads. Since this was his dream world, perhaps the world did accommodate Marcus.
"I like being warm," I said blithely.
"Well, suit yourself."
Marcus stuffed his hands into his pockets and gazed at the lake.
"Oh yeah, where's Aliana? Alicia or Max?"
"They couldn't make it," I lied.
"Ah, that sucks. Wished I could've showed them this."
Marcus's tone was so wistful. It made me regret what I was about to do next.
"Yo, can I ask something?"
"Sure," he said.
"Do you recall how you got here?"
For the first time since we got here, Marcus's expression clouded. It became dazed and blurry -literally. After I asked him, his body wavered and briefly became corporal. He refocused a second later, but sat down as if he was tired.
"I- I don't remember... How did I get here?"
Marcus seemed so lost. He reminded me of an innocent child lost in a store, waiting for someone to find them.
"I know what it's like."
"Huh?"
"To live in a beautiful dream so vivid, it feels like reality."
I remembered my dreams before the Fall; they were normal like any other. I forgot the majority since they were inconsequential, but some dreams stood out. They were about flying, fighting zombies, or meeting someone new. I once had dreams about exploring a forest, or going to Japan. Sadly, they would rectify themselves. They'd turn miserable, as though reminding me of my true life. Sometimes my mom would be there, she'd be angry, and she'd take me home. Or worst of all, I'd wake up before the dream would finish. That happened too many times to count.
So, I know what it's like to live in a dream so perfect. You feel robbed when you wake up. You wonder why your life can't be as joyous as the reality in your head. In my case, I feel resentful. What does Marcus feel?
"Ethan? I-is this real?"
I didn't know how to answer. I didn't want to use a simple "yes" or "no." Although, I've read so many fancy speeches from melodramatic protagonists. It was honestly cringe, but I took inspiration from them.
"It's real to you, Marcus. Perhaps it doesn't exist in the world you currently know, but it exists within your heart."
I placed my hand on his shoulder.
"If you keep living, you have a chance - a chance to make this dream a reality."
I was behind Marcus, so I could barely see the tears streaming down his face.
"I r-remember," he said. "Alexa drugged me. It's all fake."
Marcus wiped away his tears, and his hands fell to the ground. His fingers clutched the blades of grass, as though testing the reality of it. I didn't know what he was feeling.
[Character "Marcus Santiago" is in mental turmoil.]
(Let me try to connect with him normally.)
I didn't want to use system messages to understand him. I wanted to connect as a human being. Sadly, no matter how empathetic I wanted to be, my logical thoughts still plagued me. It felt like two versions of myself existed in one body.
(I'm sorry it's not real.)
(He quickly realized the truth. That makes it easier to get him out.)
"Marcus?"
"Yeah?"
I didn't want to ask "do you want to get out?" It implied he had to escape. Why would Marcus want to leave a landscape like this? I had to choose my words carefully.
"Do you want come with me? Do you want to make this a reality?"
"As if. The world isn't like this anymore."
Marcus balled up, tucking his head between his arms.
"It's ugly now."
"Well, yeah. The boomers gave us the short end of the stick. Then they used it to beat us up."
I chuckled at my dumb joke. I think I saw Marcus grin.
"I don't want to leave."
"I understand."
"But I know that I have to," he reasoned.
"Yeah."
"What should I do?"
"Well, as we depart, we can go on an adventure. Do it together, y'know. Some Adventure Time stuff."
"That'd be cool..."
"Why is your voice trailing?"
I sensed something was amiss.
"Thing is, I don't know how to get out."
"Well, shittlesticks."
I sat down next to him, ready to brainstorm a way out. Before I did, I heard rustling from behind. I turned around and expected the wolf pup, but my heart jackknifed. There were two wolves, but they were no pups. They were grown.
[Constellation "Wolf Who Mocks" is staring at you.]
[Constellation "Wolf Who Hates" is staring at you.]
The two wolves possessed an incredible pressure, squeezing my soul. An audience with Hades and Persephone wasn't this excruciating.
[Fragment of the 4th Wall is suppressing your fear.]
[Fragment of the 4th Wall is protecting your psyche.]
The anxiety ebbed away, so I brought out the bravado. It wouldn't help, but I needed to FEEL as if I was in control.
"Damn, I'm glad this is a dream, or I'd have shat my pants."
It seems the two wolves weren't fond of my joking - they bolted past us, running on the lake. I didn't know at first, so my fear almost gave me a heart attack.
"Jesus Christ!!"
My hair ruffled in the wind they created, and I stumbled backward. I looked at the lake and saw the two wolves running on its surface, Jesus-style.
"Bruh."
"Ethan."
"Yeah?"
"I know what to do."
"Really? What is it?"
"We gotta follow those wolves."
I didn't skip a beat. This world belonged to Marcus, so it made sense. I didn't have to like the solution, though.
"Well, fu-"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
EnderGolem997
EnderGolem997 Hey, author here. I needed to get this off my chest sooner or later. Sometimes it's hard to write. At times, I'm hit with a bout of motivation, and I know exactly what needs to happen. Some chapters flow like water, but others flow like mud.
This is what I wanted this summer: to submit as much as I did last year and reach 100 chapters. I wanted to finish this high school arc and enter the battle of kings, but it's so far right now. In over 2 weeks, I return studying. It will be harder than ever and the most important year yet. If I don't do well enough, I don't graduate on time. It means I will have to take a 9 MONTH long hiatus. If I do submit new chapters, it will probably be once per month.
These circumstances are disappointing, for myself, and probably for you, the reader. This story isn't the best, or the most put-together, but it's ours. I want to complete it no matter what. I'll try to do my best, but it won't be like it was in the beginning. Aside from that, happy reading!
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