The darkness stuck to my feet like a Spyder’s web. I took a step forward, but it only led to more goopy darkness. My memories fell from their place above me and were consumed by the black muck. I tried to pull them out but the darkness took form around them. The new shape points at me.

I nearly forgot I had killed him.

“Let me out of here!” BladEagle’s face emerges from the goop and his arms turn into swords.

I try to shield myself from his knives but they cut my arms.

A hand grabs my foot. Then another grabs my leg.

Swallowed up by my own darkness. I deserve it. She’s gone because of me. I…can’t even remember her name.

The darkness on my body takes form as the love of my life and kicks away the hands grabbing me. “This is your mind. Take command!” She kicks BladEagle aside with her metal legs.

She’s right. I’m in control.

I place the muck to my forehead.

This is me. Everything here is me.

I throw my hands to the side, willing the black goop to shoot up like geysers.

My enemies shape it into projectiles but I open my arms and heart, fusing with the projectiles they attack me with.

I direct my hand at them one at a time and send out a black arrow.

The arrow pieces through them. The faceless students scream in agony, making the realm quake. Eyes and mouths appear on them as they truly die, returning with it all their memories.

To emerge as a RiftRipper I must kill them all a second time.

I will the muck on WarWolf to jut out, piercing more enemies that crawl towards me.

So many lives sacrificed to create me. If I lost now, I’d be disappointing all of them.

I turn the geysers into spikes, killing over fifty students at a single moment.

The simultaneous screams crack the realm, distorting space.

The once distant enemies crawl through the distortions, arriving instantly and clawing at me with their black fingernails.

Without even thinking, I jump from one to the next, hugging them before pooling the darkness around them into a knife and piercing their heart.

“Don’t let them make you a monster,” says CamOctopus with a look of desperation.

“It’s the only way to survive in this world of insanity.” I pull the blade out before I’m lifted off my feet.

A massive black golem has me in its palm. The form it takes is undeniably familiar to me.

Mother.

I scream as my body is being crushed.

Mother wouldn’t hurt me. It’s guilt. The darkness is misery and guilt.

I pool the darkness beneath me into a thin blade, focusing it as it elongates. I slice the arm off and collapse toward a special distortion.

WarWolf grabs my hand and pulls me up. “We’re shaped by your dark feelings. Your mother is in there. I’m only able to help because I just arrived here.”

I look out at the dark golem. “It’s mine to bear! Not yours!”

The darkness explodes and my mother lands.

I approach her as I pull the darkness off her with my willpower. “I don’t know if I can be that great assassin you always wanted, mom.” I crouch down to look at her and wipe the muck off her eyes.

She looks up at me with tired eyes. “I’m so proud of you.” She grabs my hand. “You have to do it, just one more time.”

“Will I still remember you?”

She nods. “We will all be a part of you.”

WarWolf wraps her hand in mine.

We shape the darkness into a blade.

I stop in place and cry. “I can’t do it again. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Tears are a RiftRipper’s fuel. That void you feel is your power. If you’re strong enough, you can do anything.”

“If I let you kill me, will you be in control?”

“If I killed my son, I’d lose all control. You have to do it with intent this time.” She touches my cheek.

I drop the knife and grip her neck. “I’ll suffer for you. I’ll get so strong that I can save everyone!”

Mother smiles at me as I wring the life out of her.

All the darkness pools toward me.

I turn to WarWolf. “Is it over?”

She holds my quivering hands. “Not yet. You have to finish us too.” She places my hand on her stomach.

I punch the floor. “I can’t do that. You should take over. You should be the one to live.”

WarWolf grabs my face. “We all live inside you. We’ll suffer inside you and we’ll torment you. Are you really going to just throw that responsibility to someone else? The one I fell in love with was strong. He was the leader of the Assailants!”

I gulp.

I’m an Assailant.

I hug her.

I’m an Assailant.

I press my lips to hers.

This will be the last time.

I grab her head and smash it against the ground.

Everything distorts with each slam. My mind goes into a swirling loop.

I’m an Assailant.

Her head cracks open.

I’m an Assailant.

“We are Assailant.” The black goop condenses in front of me and takes form as a single ball of discordant energy. “The more you resist, the more you will lose.”

“I won’t resist. But I just want to know…will I still be myself?” I steady my breath.

The goop changes form into me. “You’ll evolve. The way you see the world, feel the world will change.” The goop’s black claw pokes my forehead. “Your goals will remain.”

“I don’t…even know what I want.”

The gooey body overlaps mine. “Then we will discover it together.”

The faces off all those I had killed flash in my mind. Their screams fold upon one another in a symphony of misery. As the orchestrator of this musical madness, I don’t fight the screams. My flesh boils like fire and my mind feels as its being pierced from a thousand angles. My bones break before being consumed by the ravenous muck. Whatever lofty goal I had in life becomes buried beneath the waves of suffering. With each wave I lose a vital piece of myself and even the pieces I retain become corrupted. My only mission is to escape the agony. The pain eventually merges with me, pulsing like a heartbeat. Each pulse takes me further away from what I once was. My limbs are gone and yet I find a way to rise myself from the floor.

“Congratulations on a successful awakening,” says the voice of an old man.

My hearing isn’t what it once was. Layered along with the sound of his voice, I feel his heartbeat and feel the emotional strings of his words.

His joy is genuine.

“The idea of the school is to prepare the few special students for evolution. Though somethings must be learned first-hand. Are you able to walk?”

I will myself forward, my lower half bending before my upper half recoils to meet it.

“This isn’t my first time witnessing a rebirth. Always such a miracle. Can you see me?”

Sight? How to see? I don’t remember.

I thrash around as the agony returns.

“RiftRippers are all about harnessing the power of focused chaos. Concentrate on my voice and then broaden your perspective.”

“Blood. Organs. Wood. I can sense it all.”

“Already found your voice. Very good. Now combine those features together.”

The blood flows to the organs to support the wooden frame. What is that thing? Alive. Yes. Alive.

“You’re a WoodPrimordial.” My head tilts toward the form.

“Very good. You can call me Old Dude.”

Name. What is my name?

“As…Assail…Assailant. I’m Assailant.”

“A splendid name. Now, I want you to look beyond me. Broaden your perspective more.”

My mind focuses beyond Old Dude and harvests the details around me.

“Plants?” I ask, my head tilting.

“A garden actually. When a WoodPrimordial feels true happiness resonating with them, they can sometimes create flowers. This flowerbed is a result of my pride in you overcoming every obstacle before you.”

Screams ring in my head and I thrash around to escape them.

Old Dude plucks a flower and brings it to me. “Can you tell me what it smells like?”

I make all sorts of attempts to sniff the flower, but nothing comes of it. I lower my head.

“No need to get down. RiftRippers can’t smell. The most vital sense is lost in transit, but something else emerges.”

“Pain?” I ask, my body distorting as it writhes around.

“Permeation. You can’t see the color of the flower or enjoy its fragrance. The world is only black and red to a RiftRipper, but you can feel the vitality in it. Which of the flowers here is soonest to die?”

“The one…you’re holding?” I ask.

I feel slight joy from Old Dude.

“That is correct. It’s been severed from the earth.”

“Earth…that’s where I’m from.”

“Oh…” The ancient one’s breath stops. “Who told you that?”

Who was it? Someone…important…I think.

“I…don’t remember.”

“Not to worry. I assure you that whoever said that was lying. Your world is Punk, I assure you. All assassin children are pulled from the always declining stock of new babies. They are taken under new parents to be trained in the sacred arts and are kept safe from the village’s enemies. Your home is and always will be ISEKAI.”

New parents. Mom. I miss you.

“This world…is home?”

“Absolutely. I’ve heard that teachers often make up stories to create discordant energy in the students, but there’s no need for that now that you’re transformed. Focus is what matters now.”

“What is Earth?”

“Maya, a world of illusion. Some use it put our world on a pedestal, others use it as some ideal utopia for which we are to strive. It is a place bereft of consequence. Some say death can bring you there, but that’s only to pacify their fears.”

“I’m not afraid!” I yell in a sudden outburst. My cloak elongates into a spear.

The wrinkles on Old Dude’s skin reverberate and redirect the attack. “Be careful. You are capable of great destruction. Your entire body is a weapon now.”

“A weapon?” My cloak shifts into a fan of blades.

“Heheh! Your bonds must have been strong with those who met your blade, well, at least judging by your prodigious skill. The severing of bonds creates voids in RiftRippers, strengthening them on all levels. Think of them as ethereal chains that support the influx of misery and give it form.”

“What am I capable of?” I feel the fan of blades rub against itself, sending shivers through me.

“Your body has two powers in particular worth noting.” Old Dude touches the spear, creating vines to grip and crush it.

“Transformation?” I ask.

“Bingo! That’s what the hero’s say.” He emanates pride. “Your body is fully transformative. If you think it, you can become it. The more complex the form, the more difficult the transformation. It’s also difficult for RiftRippers to maintain the transformation for long periods of time due to their chaotic minds. But that same chaos can turn a spear into an axe in an instant.”

I will the broken spear to change but it instead juts out as spikes.

Old Dude is overcome with an unpleasant sensation. He wrinkles space and whacks me. “Be careful. Just because I’m immortal doesn’t mean I want to get impaled. Pain is unpleasant by design.”

“I…didn’t mean to.” My cloak breathes in the red sensation wafting in the air, giving me a sudden burst of agony. I scream out and writhe around.

“There you go! Your second special power is absorption. A RiftRipper’s negativity is focused into their core. Now, the core is multi-dimensional in the sense that it exists in more than one dimension and must be hit from multiple dimensions simultaneously before sustaining damage.”

What?

I look at him curiously.

“Too many words. My apologies. Age is a crutch at times.” Old Dude’s wrinkles focus on his hand. He then raises it at me and closes his fist.

My entire form is taken from me and I fall to the floor.

I’m a ball?

“The Black Seed is the RiftRipper’s core. While the Black Fluid can alter the form of a host to a degree, only a proper Black Seed offers a chance for a fusion.” Old Dude lifts the spear from earlier with vines that come out around him. The spear then plunges into me.

I absorb the weapon automatically.

“There you have it. The Black Core, the evolved form of a Black Seed, is invincible to conventional attacks. Black Seeds require nurturing before transforming into Black Cores and each Black Core can only ever create one Black Seed. Dealers of death shouldn’t succumb to death themselves. That was the consensus from the Council of Old Fossils when we created the RiftRipper curriculum. We wanted to have willful reapers to cut down our enemies.” He glows with pride.

I turn away from the glow, but I still feel it on me like some sticky substance.

Old Dude returns my form to me and I slowly reorient myself as he talks. “A RiftRipper can absorb things into their Black Core and store them in a place called the Void Armory, which is actually the second layer of the Black Core. There is no limit as to what can be stored in the armory, but there is a limit to how long it can remain there. Living things in particular don’t fare well inside, so it’s best not to be used as a form of transportation.”

“I can absorb objects and transform into them?”

“I think you’re on the brink of discovering it. A RiftRipper can only transform into items stored in their Void Armory. Without a sword in your armory, you cannot become a sword. The Void Armory is a unique storehouse of memory. It’s also important to note that memories of living things can be stored, allowing for permanent additions to your transformative arsenal. Theoretically speaking a RiftRipper can become anything, but the Void Armory creates a zone bereft of chaotic thought where the RiftRipper can truly find focus.”

“Can I gain their powers too? Every creature is blessed with its own unique abilities.”

“Sadly, we have yet to perfect the RiftRipper recipe to absorb powers. But there is a way to gain a special ability. Each RiftRipper has the potential to gain a third power unique to their core.”

“How do…I claim that power?” My body trembles in excitement despite me feeling nothing.

“You’ll have to get used to your new form before that.”

“And then…what?”

“You hope the process of attaining it doesn’t destroy you.” Old Dude beams positive energy at me.

The energy gnaws at my form.

Old Dude tosses me a sphere.

It has juice inside.

I examine it curiously, finding pockets filled with fluid layered together.

“It’s called an Orange. Got them imported from Maya. You can’t enjoy the taste, but you can use it as a bargaining tool. Absorb it and find someone in the village who will trade it for information. RiftRippers aren’t mere killing machines, you’re agents of ISEKAI. We’ve got to build you up from the roots.”

Roots.

The entire area became known to me. Not just the flowers and the brown earth, but the roots beneath. They travelled out, tunneling around the entire village and they all originated from a single source.

Old Dude. It’s not just this place…he’s connected to everything! He’s the one who did orchestrated. He made me kill them. All of them! Him and his kind created the Black Guild. They created the monster I am now. My goal is clear in me. It is what cloaks me.

“You seem lost in thought. Do you need me to show you the exit?” asks Old Dude.

I must destroy the roots of ISEKAI to free the assassins from a curriculum of misery. To do so I must know the roots and dig until I find their weakness.