Am I falling? This abyss is too deep. Too cold."
Suddenly, a woman's voice sliced through the void, crystal clear and hauntingly melodic. "Your Oneiric Delusion has flared up again, my dear. It is time for your sedative." Endsilver beckoned Akusha, reclaiming her son from the fraying edges of his dream.
Finding no response, she leaned in. Her fingers clamped his cheeks with a clinical focus, forcing his gaze to meet hers. "Caught you."
"No. You cheated. I want to play again."
Ignoring his protest, she hoisted him into her arms and carried him toward the house. The structure loomed, a white scar against the sky known to the locals as "The Marble Delusion." It stood in chilling isolation, a monument of stone and silence. Villagers whispered as they hurried past, for they often witnessed the lady of the manor on her balcony, whispering endearments to the empty air—engaging in a vivid dialogue with a child who simply did not exist in the physical realm.
"Mother, the medicine is bitter... but why do the rabbits keep appearing?"
At his words, Endsilver's gaze sharpened. She scrutinized his arm as if inspecting a flawed specimen. "Why is my masterpiece bleeding? The rabbits were merely anxious for you, Akusha. Come, wave hello to them."
The boy remained stubborn. "They were the ones who bit me. I hate them."
"One must learn the grace of forgiveness," she whispered. Akusha's resistance dissolved into a hollow obedience; he weakly waved at the "rabbit friends" lurking in the corners of his vision.
Leaving Akusha inside, Endsilver stepped out alone. Before her stood the entities—monstrous hares known as Greedrabbits.
"I cannot erase you all, you defective iterations," she hissed. A snap of her fingers echoed. The Greedrabbits shattered into a hundred fragments. Another snap followed, and even the last stain of their wretched blood was purged from existence.
As he choked down the bitter pills, Akusha murmured, "Mother, I want to marry you."
Endsilver stiffened, a glitch in her saintly mask appearing for a mere second before she regained her composure. She produced a tarnished silver crest, tracing the engraved laurel-wreathed sword with a tenderness that never quite reached Akusha.
"That is a transgression, my dear. You will understand when you are older... and your brother would be so very grieved. He left this behind when he rode off to serve as a knight in the far kingdoms. It is the mark of a man who shields the weak with his own flesh. I often wonder... when will you find such courage, instead of drowning in these fever dreams?"
21:00
"Akusha, to bed." They shared a grand bed fashioned from the finest down feathers, a silk tether binding them in the dark.
June 13, 1320 – 06:00
Akusha woke to find his mother still beside him. A chilling anomaly—Endsilver never remained idle, nor did she ever leave him to wake in solitude.
"She must be in the parlor," he lied to himself. He searched the manor—kitchen, basement, attic. Empty. Then, he looked toward the gate. Endsilver was there, unlatching the portal as if preparing for a journey. Akusha rushed to embrace her, but she only whispered one thing: "Your Oneiric Delusion has flared up again. WAKE UP."
Akusha jolted awake. He was still inside the house.
Every door stood ajar, yet the house felt hollow. Then, he saw it: the final door. He pushed it open. "A bedroom?" He turned to leave, but a low, rhythmic litany arrested his movement.
Akusha looked back. A naked man lay upon his bed, his face shrouded. Driven by a morbid curiosity, Akusha peeled back the cloth. He found... his own face staring back. The prayer intensified, vibrating through the floorboards as if a presence were breathing down his neck.
"Akusha, come here!"
He spun around. Endsilver stood within a magic circle drawn in a hue as dark as clotted blood. He ran toward her in relief, then froze. "You aren't my mother. You aren't Endsilver."
The imposter smirked, a jagged, predatory expression. "Not bad, brat. To recognize my alchemy at such a tender age..."
"Invoke: Dispel Transformation." The saintly facade evaporated. In its place stood a towering woman, over three meters tall. "Haha! Master did not lie. How can such a magnificent vessel exist?"
She lunged, her hand crushing Akusha's throat as she hoisted him into the air. "You're lucky, brat. Other alchemists wouldn't be nearly as 'kind' as I am. Care for a taste of my mercy?"
She dragged him to the depths of the basement and slammed him onto a surgical table.
"Invoke: Necrosis." A fire ignited beneath his skin, rotting him from the inside out.
"Invoke: Silence." Unseen chains coiled around his throat, choking his screams. His skin withered into grey ash, sense by sense, his arm vanished into a phantom pain.
"Make haste. We are leaving," a clear, melodic voice echoed through the stone walls.
The tall woman yielded. "Release: Necrosis. Oh, I have something exquisite for you. First, the 'Blessing' that every true alchemist carries within. And then, the tool for your survival."
With a surgical submission, she extracted his heart. Holding the pulsing organ, she chanted: "Blessing: Alchemical Eye. Blessing: Century Drop." She placed the altered heart back into his chest cavity—a cage for his new, forced destiny. "Goodbye."
August 13, 1320
"Am I... awake?"
Akusha stumbled to his feet. Two months had vanished into a void, yet he remained alive—a biological glitch existing without food or water.
He wandered toward the edge of the Voidabyss, the bottomless enigma of the world. A voice whispered not to his ears, but directly from the center of his chest: Come here. It was the "Alchemical Eye" within his heart, translating the abyss's pull into an irresistible omen.
Among the crowd of explorers stood the towering figure, three meters tall. She was staring directly at him.
A voice hissed in his ear: "Invoke: Sleep."