The indifferent voice of the trial system whispered in the void once more.
***
Time synchronization reset.
Trial iteration: 6.
***
He lay there in the black nothingness, feeling as if he had absolutely lost his will to continue. He could hear, somewhere in the distance of his own mind, Alice's quiet encouragements and Karmen's mix of self pity and weak jokes. He was not listening to any of it.
He tried to recall why he was here. Why any of this was important.
He had come to a town. He had met an innkeeper, a kind one. That innkeeper's place had been destroyed. He had tracked the wrongdoers through the town, a trail that led him to Karmen's estate. He had met a violinist with a freaky smile who threw him through the air and broke his leg. He had met a hollow eyed noble obsessed with the lost world of Earth. That noble had sent him on a mission to clear this rift with no upfront pay and no real leads, with only a guide. A guide who had already broken his leg. A guide who had a strange connection to Karmen himself.
That guide had led him through open fields and purple forests into a cave, where they were attacked. In an act of saving Jake, Lucid had pushed him toward the rift. Lucid had stayed behind to face the beast, but then jumped into the rift himself.
Recalling the events in better detail, he asked himself why he had even jumped. He could have just run back through the cavern. But who knew how fast that beast was? Whether it was out of caution or a genuine, stupid desire to save Jake, he had jumped, knowing what a rift was. He just hadn't known he would end up inhabiting Karmen's body, forced to relive the same traumatic loop over and over, sifting through this guy's past like a ghost.
Why was he even solving this guy's family problems? Lucid had a family to get back to, back home. But then again, that thought only brought up bitter memories.
'Father...' he thought, the old pain a dull throb.
Karmen was also a human. He had a family. A brother, a father, a mother, a community. The same went for Lucid, even if his was in a different world. Who even knew if his old friends and family were still alive at this point? Yet, would it be selfish for Lucid to just abandon Karmen here? To let him wander through this rift, repeating the same mistakes, alone? The companion Karmen had sent with him, Jake, was clearly nowhere to be seen in this memory. Yet the real Karmen was still somewhere in the real world, even as Lucid was trapped in this trial, repeating cycles.
Something did not add up. Nothing added up.
"So what will it be?" a familiar, melodic voice cut through his thoughts. "I can help you search for a cure for your family. Or I can give them the best care I can for the remainder of their days. Though I will try my absolute full capacity to slow down the severance from Mother Fate."
He was back. The black void had materialized into the study without him even noticing. Had he been that distracted, that focused inward, that he did not care? He could not recall anything Karmen or Alice had just said. They were awfully quiet now. But that did not concern him.
He was looking at Ivy. He took in her details. Pale face. Violet eyes. A dark robe. A dark veil. Straight black hair. It was the same woman he had tried to kill. The same woman he had surrendered to. The same woman he had kissed. Why was she so important? Why did he have to please her or get rid of her? What was the bigger picture?
Ivy was just a boss in front of a dungeon. She was not really the whole trial to overcome.
No. It was the Withering. A conflict that tested someone's place in this universe, apparently. He recalled now. All those days, weeks, months of research in other cycles, crafting the perfect antidote. Lucid was not as oblivious as he had been prior to entering this rift. During these iterations, he had learned about the world's structure, its teachings, and how it basically operated.
But that was not the point now.
"Give me time to think," he told her.
She glared at him, a look of pure disdain. "I remind you that every second costs your family's life."
"I am aware," he said flatly.
A heavy silence hung in the air between them. It was painful, but he did not care at this point. None of it mattered. What was the worst that could happen? He would die and repeat the same cycle again and again.
'I mean, at this point, death doesn't seem like such a bad thing,' he thought.
"Very well, Young Master. I value your decision," she said with a sharp nod. She turned and went out the door, shutting it firmly behind her.
He cracked. A snort sounded in the quiet room, turning into a choked chuckle, and then a full, hearty laugh. Karmen's voice was really quite deep and charming when it laughed. "How funny..." he said, calming himself, almost wheezing as he ran out of breath after the heartful laugh.
Something inside him stirred. Karmen or Alice, perhaps. He could not hear them clearly. They were muffled voices at this point, hidden by his own breath, his heartbeat, and his swirling thoughts.
"I did it," he whispered to the empty room.
"Fool me once in one life, shame on you. Fool me again in the next… and that's when I start planning."
He immediately took action. He took off his jacket, tossing it aside. He unbuttoned his shirt at the collar and rolled up his sleeves. Now was the time. He remembered how to create the antidote. It would not take more than a few hours at best. But the whole thing had to be done from his head, from his raw knowledge. He did not have access to his old notes. Ivy had been the one who helped him last time. But that did not deter him.
He ran through the mansion with a new found grin, a grim determination. He saw a familiar young maid, the one he had burst in on when he first arrived in this memory. He took her by the arm and yanked her with him, pulling her down the hall. She let out a gasp and a yelp.
"Young Master!"
He did not reply. He was headed to Lyle's workshop and lab. He did not have much time. He remembered Ivy's schedule. Right after their discussion, she would immediately head to the garden to tend to the flowers she had planted. She had clearly made herself at home ever since Materna dispatched this silent assassin to their house.
"Quick, hold the cup," he ordered, shoving a small glass beaker into the maid's hands.
"Wha—" Her voice was frightened and confused.
"Hold it!" he yelled in a hushed, quick breath. He grabbed a clean cloth from a workbench and stuffed a corner of it into his own mouth. Then, before she could react further, he took a sharp scalpel from a tray and drew it deeply across his own forearm.
Blood, dark and red, immediately welled up and began to pool into the cup she was holding. The orange haired maid wore a horrified look on her face, staring at what her young master was doing. The thought of being discovered by other maids, by the family, was a terror she could not even imagine.
The cup was almost filled to the brim. It surprised even Lucid. This much blood loss would render someone unconscious, potentially fatal. But he reminded himself he was not a mundane human anymore. Even without Alice's healing and reinforcement, an Awakened human had characteristics above any normal person. In physical strength, mental processing. They were just adept at everything. The Withering present in his parents was indeed present in him too, a faint echo. In the last cycle, he had used Karmen's mother's blood to replicate a counter to the corrosive Fate Essence that caused the Withering, that severed the connection to Mother Fate. He only needed less than a decimal amount for the catalyst. He had it now.
He mixed his blood with crushed gem imbued Fate stones and herbs that resembled purple lilies from his own world. He worked on intuition, barking orders at the maid to do most of the manual work of grinding and mixing. Why would he sweat over turning and mixing endlessly when he could supervise?
'I mean, I pay her,' he grumbled in his head.
He went to the window, a feeling of anxiety gnawing at his insides. Stress was a palpable pressure beside his heart. And yet, he felt strangely calm. It felt refreshing. Looking down, he saw Ivy heading toward the family residence, carrying herself with her usual grace. Lucid's heart sank a little, but that did not deter him.
"Young Master, I think it is sufficient," the maid whispered, her voice trembling as she held the murky, swirling mixture.
"More!" he lashed back. The maid managed a whimper, shocked by his directness and bluntness. The Karmen she knew was charismatic, careful, and considerate. This hardly resembled her previous master.
A knock resonated through the door.
His heart jumped. He moved quickly, pouring the mixture into a small glass vial and shoving it down into his pants pocket. The rest of the work tools, the debris and spilled fluid, he hastily hid under a rumpled bed sheet.
The maid was surprised and a little scared. In that moment, she really did not know what he was up to.
"Young Ma—" she started.
"Shut your mouth and hide under that bed," he hissed, his voice horse and urgent.
The maid, taken aback by the statement and command, negligently obeyed. She scrambled and hid herself under the large bed with much effort, half of her leg sticking out from beneath the draped covers as she gripped the bed frame. It was pitiful and just wrong in every way possible.
It was also painfully obvious.
He opened the door. Standing before him, in her slender black robes with those captivating violet eyes, was Ivy.
'How?' Lucid thought, panic rising. 'I logically saw her through the window just now.'
"Young Master Karmen," she said, her voice smooth. "I searched for you. What are you doing here in such a... shallow room?"
"What does it matter what room I head to?" Lucid replied, forcing Karmen's voice to be steady. "I own this place. I fear I may go where I want."
"Is that... so," she said, her eyes drifting downward. "Your hand, Karmen. What happened?"
"Nothing," he shot back, looking down at her. He was taller than her. It looked as if he could overpower her at any minute, any moment. But that thought was rendered futile as memories from the cycle where he tried to kill her flashed before his eyes. He had been helpless.
"I see, Young Master," she said, her tone low with amusement and intrigue. Her gaze slid past him to a certain corner of the room where the bed lay, the obvious lump and the protruding leg barely hidden. "You are awfully direct with your desires."
Lucid did not understand what she was implying, nor did he care to understand. This woman, this foe, was the only thing on his mind. It was as if he had become obsessed.
"I wanted to speak about other matters, but it looks like you are occupied at the moment," Ivy continued, a sly smile touching her lips beneath the veil. "Have fun. Do not be ashamed in indulging in pleasure, Young Master."
"I will," Lucid said, locking eyes with her. "Oh, I will, Ivy."
He said her name for the first time in all these cycles. It felt like a confrontation, an acknowledgement after so many tries and deaths. Ivy looked back at him, intrigued and malicious.
It was anything but good.
"Don't break her," she said softly. Then she shut the door.
He was standing in front of it, managing an audible gasp of relief. He was safe. For now.
Real work remained. He looked at the table. He had crafted one vial. Maybe one and a half at best. But he needed more. More. More than he could possibly make before she came back.
"Young Ma—" a small, muffled voice came from under the bed. He had totally forgotten he had taken an unfortunate soul to help him. There, under the bed, lay the orange haired girl with discomfort etched on her face and half of her leg sticking out while she gripped the bed frame. It was pitiful and just wrong in every way possible.
He lifted the bed with one hand, looking down at her as she gasped for air like she could not breathe at all.
"Please... no more. Be gentle with me," she pleaded, her face flushed.
"On your feet!" he barked, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And keep mixing the remainder in the glass bottles! We are not finished!"