Chapter 99: Noxx
An agonizing wind hummed through the infinite dark space.
It was probably the Infernal Circles they had portrayed. A destiny where death or the breaking of wills was the norm.
He had already forgotten it. In his mind there still remained light fragments of the forest and the terrifying figure that had suppressed everyone.
But they were only that, fragments. Memories that tormented him by reminding him that there existed another reality where that cold was nonexistent.
Another world that little by little deconstructed itself, losing the substance that composed it. He had forgotten his home, his relationships, and his ideals.
He remained as an empty shell condemned to eternal suffering. Without food, drink, or shelter. He curled up over his own body.
He trembled without stopping, extremely pained and consumed by solitude. How much time had passed?
He had forgotten it.
Sometimes he remembered his name and other times he did not.
That was the deal of the Infernal Circles. A challenge that tested the interior will, striking it to the living iron until revealing all its imperfections.
Without any kind of pity or softness, each day was a torment capable of collapsing experienced men.
Gabriel had endured that torment for an unknown time, curling up and surrendering to the pain. He had never known another behavior. He needed to be strong.
He quickly lost the comprehension of time.
Only one word survived in his afflicted spirit: Live.
It was the last memory. His most powerful thought. He needed to live.
On the ground he implored in a mental dialogue, trembling and closing his eyes. The cold was chilling, penetrating the body as if it were wet sand, subjecting him to an endless oppression.
I... Live... I cannot... Fall.
His mouth was cracked and his skin stuck to his bones. He had lost his previous features, with an appearance eroded by the difficulties.
He no longer saw hope. He had given himself to the punishment in body and soul, suffering the consequences of his own reluctance.
He had chosen the punishment.
The only idiot willing to suffer so arduously without complaining. That was the type of meaning he still treasured.
It only belonged to him... The good that no one could steal.
For the last time a deeply ghostly wind blew, ceasing suddenly.
The darkness and the silence had enveloped him. But at that instant he could not manage to understand what had happened. His brain had practically been frozen by the desire to survive.
A biological reflex portrayed within the video game with terrifying precision.
A tinkle resonated in his ears.
An electronic sign had appeared before his eyes, but his eyelids could not even manage to open despite the bothersome crimson light.
______________
[You have endured the sufferings of the Infernal Circles for 10 years and 7 months]
[At this point you are the only one left standing. No one else has managed to surpass you]
[ALERT!]
[Irreversible changes present in the mental and physical state of the player]
[Activating emergency defense mechanisms]
_______________
After that, he managed to remember nothing more.
His consciousness fell into a slow and slightly soothed state, eliminating the evident mental cracks that a period so long of suffering had caused him.
His mind had been severed into more than eight parts and cooked in oil over a slow fire. It was a suffering that very few managed to endure.
He opened his eyes with a strong headache.
He still did not understand where he really was, but he remembered the challenge he had to face. The Infernal Circles were imposing in name.
But he quickly noticed that he was not alone, being accompanied by seven other individuals. The majority remained with an expression of semi-consciousness, with drowsiness and weakness.
Over them rose an enormous stone pyramid, on reddish earth. A monumental and magnificent work, eroded by the difficulties of time.
A beautiful man of soft features smiled in the center.
He waited with patience, stepping on withered skulls beneath him. He was practically naked, with the exception of a light cotton tunic.
Over his chest cooked lambskin, finely traced.
"Valuable presents, be welcome. This is the last door of this ancient ruin," he said with a benevolent smile.
Those who had persisted in the trial began to awaken from their daydream, beginning to understand their current situation.
All had had their own challenge under the same atmosphere, but each one had had very different results. Some had been notable and others not so much.
But in the end, they were the eight who had most survived in adversity. They were the final chosen of the Ruin.
Those who had participated in a unilateral bloodletting, like the breeding of poisonous Gu. Where only the most select and monstrous survived until the end.
"You are the awakened, the living... Those who will carry the Name of His Majesty to the world of those who still live," the stranger continued.
Gabriel swallowed saliva.
The matter was not simple and probably involved fundamental and inevitable aspects of the future gameplay within the world of Heaven Above All.
The solemnity with which he addressed "His Majesty" had sunk into his bones. It was no kind of joke.
"Our world is still covered by darkness. We cannot access the celestial land. For that reason you have been chosen to spread His Name."
His Name? This does not seem like a normal request. Not even a fair exchange.
He had leaned backward, preferring to remain silent before the individual who gave the instructions. Meddling too much would only cause his potential fall.
"None will become a Herald. You will only be his star, the messenger; you must demonstrate your worth to be considered apt to carry his holy mantle."
Each of those present heard the sermon attentively. They did not even click their tongues. They were silently and invisibly suppressed.
The Herald was not an unknown term. But its exact function still remained in unexplored terrain. Even so its connection with the divinities was significant.
There existed a possibility: that opportunity enveloped the legendary gods who had disappeared in a very distant time.
Its probability was enormous and almost tangible. The world unfolded in a way that constantly pushed the waves toward the mysterious gods.
Had they died? Did they still hide under the tides of time, waiting for an opportunity?
Gabriel had broken a statue of divine origin. He was destined to blaspheme against them. With an inheritance that was engraved under the seal of rising as an uncontainable force that not even nature could understand.
And he still did not even know what that meant...
"Soon you will awaken again. Each one will carry with himself a reward granted according to his purpose. Whoever disobeys will be punished with an experience worse than the insignificant death of mortals," in the last second his eyes had adopted a fatal, almost murderous intention.
It was a crude warning directed at all.
In their minds suddenly appeared a great variety of information. They were objects that had been listed by their rarity and function. The final rewards that had been promised.
A large part of the rewards were darkened by a veil of confusion. Their diffusion among them was prohibited. Delivering only some of the objects that could be permitted.
Among the absurd quantity of possible rewards, he managed to visualize a particular statue. It was of male physiognomy and its torso was sculpted by the hands of the most skillful sculptors. It only had one name attached, The Son Who Rides the Night.
Imperceptibly he shared a small glance with Abyss. He observed his empty eyes that had accentuated even more during his short stay surviving the ruin.
With a small recognition, he nodded.
He had not forgotten the commission that Charles had made. It explicitly concerned a statue. Its objective was unknown and mysterious, but a mission was still a mission; he needed to fulfill it.
With Abyss’s nod, he finally disposed himself to choose the object he would obtain. In large part his needs were small, but the listed rewards were too many. He needed to choose with wisdom.
Suddenly he read a title that surprised him, awakening his curiosity.
Piercing Daggers of the Primordial Night.
Mainly he had been attracted by its name, but it had no description. He feared being foolishly deceived by a grandiloquent name and destining his efforts to an absolute failure.
Even so, he had been beguiled by the attractive name. He felt it as something intimate and personal, a connection that guided him to select it. Probably it was due to his own preference of weapons and his nature that involved the night, the darkness, and its countless ends.
He chose it.
He would have a new weapon that would accompany him on an extensive path, overflowing with risks and adversities. It was the storm he had chosen. The night he had to survive.
The rest quickly finished choosing and no one seemed particularly dissatisfied with their choice, with the exception of one individual. It was the same person who always behaved with confidence and serenity. For the first time he presented signs of unease.
An applause filled the silent atmosphere, with the same beautiful individual interrupting their digressions. With a satisfied smile, he said:
"From today you will serve the deepest veil, the one who existed before creation, our venerable God... Noxx." His words were absolute.
No one moved from their original place, processing the words they had heard.
"Now you must awaken, before sleeping eternally... My servants."