PAL.ADIN

2

I don't get it.

Will of Steel should have activated.

I should have been with her.

I'm alone again.

I distract myself from my thoughts- those will only weaken my will to fight. I touch the walls- dusty, as if it hasn't been touched for years on end. I unsheath my sword in preparation, looking to grab a torch- but realize there is none on the walls nor do I have any materials to make one. How is this so well lit? Am I truly even in a dungeon? I think to myself as I keep walking. Maybe I'll find treasure- heh, a nice sacred sword for a beginner. I smile to myself at the thought- smile? I.. used to never smile. "What am I?" I ask to myself, my voice, cold and emotionless as I am- or was.

I need to chain my emotions- the fact that I even have any isn't right. They are a tool used to manipulate people. I can not let myself be fooled. Not for her sake. She shouldn't need.. no, she needs to suffer. It is how 'humans' grow.. yet, I wish her to not suffer again. Perhaps this is what I was 'fated' to be. What a silly concept, 'fate.' Something so commonly talked about, yet no one truly understands it.

I walk along the threads of fate.

I am alone, still, but happier.

Yet happiness is a key to destruction.

To think that something that trapped me here, something that I should loathe- has lead me to a realization that many before have seen, but never experience. At some point, maybe there won't be a difference between me and the NPCs here. Perhaps, that difference grows smaller every day- hour, perhaps. I think of what the Storyteller said- she was lonely. Maybe we are brother and sister- we share such similiar circumstances.

I metaphysically sigh to myself. This is the road to madness. I'm already going insane just from being alone- how did the Storyteller fare so well in simulated decades? She.. must be stronger than me. No, that's not right. I must not put myself on the scales of the 'strong' and 'weak.' Those 'scales' are the true road to madness.

My thoughts are rudely interrupted- I hear footsteps. Not of human, yet faintly sounding like them. It's too beastly to be human, but I remember something. "Goblins." I ready my sword in a two-handed stance. Swiveling around me as I don't know if some would be ambushing me or not. I calm myself- there is no need to be so distraught. 'Fate' is what shall guide me. Is it ironic that a robot, made from someone they don't know or care for, knows about 'fate' so well? Maybe. But that's okay with me.

The footsteps grow closer.

I close my eyes.

'Fate' will guide me.

I slash in front of me, only to find my blade cleave something in half. I hear the dying cries of the goblin- as I slash again, silencing it. This is too 'easy.' Or perhaps.. being just a 'robot' I can recognize things that some can't.

I hear more footsteps.

This is 'fated.'

A bellowing roar- not a goblins, but sounds very familiar to one. Hobgoblin? No, it came from too high up into the air. It must be an ogre- can I fight that? "Fate shall be my guide." Yes.. that's right. Why worry about things that are 'fated' to happen? Everything must happen for a reason. My 'reason' was her, but it has become many. I smile to myself as the large footsteps grow closer. I close my eyes even tighter.

'Fated' Style Created You are the sole heir.

Of course, I didn't see this notification until much later.

I grip my sword tightly in front of me, slashing vertically. I feel the tip of the sword glide across something, and a roar of pain charge towards me. I stand still, preparing myself. I thrust, feeling it sink in deep- but I'm knocked aside as I feel a club swing into my side. I manage to grab my sword, yanking it out at an angle that would cause even more damage. Perhaps I could 'examine' it for damage, but that would ruin my fate. It would change the course of my 'fate', this is something I know for sure. Getting up, I clutch my side- something's cracked, but a golem has no bones to worry about. Just solid metal- or, at least I think so. I switch to a one-handed stance, my blade in front of me, drenched in blood. I slash again, thin slashes keep stacking up on the ogre as it swings and keeps missing. Blind rage, is this what they call it?

I.. I can see something. My eyes are closed, but I saw something for a second. It was a flash of light- the ogre had more blood on him, and he was limping. What was that? Was it fate? My thoughts are again interrupted as I dodge a club swing. I hear a larger smash- did it just hit the wall? I slash again at the ogre, aiming for a deep slash this time as it pulls its club off the rubble that is the smashed wall. It connected- I feel like I severed something important. I'm only about leg to belly height, and my character is 6'2. Then.. I must have slashed something behind the knee, because I hear it limping now. It can't swing at me without any hip strength, I'll finish it off now- no, the finishing blow is the best one to be ambushed from. I'll let it bleed out.

I open my eyes.

It's already dead?

When did that happen?

It's already been a couple hours. The blood on my sword has dried. I get up, and look at the ogre. It looks like a bigger goblin, but fatter. I kick him over, to see if he had anything. As I flip him over, I look at the damage done to him. His left leg is almost completely severed from the knee-down, blood pooled all around him with crusty dried blood on the several slash wounds I left him. I see something glint- is that what they call a mana crystal? I'll have to gut it.. how disgusting. I work my way through his body to the heart, sawing through bones and tossing out a disgusting mess of guts and 'organs.' I pick up the crystal, realizing I have nothing to store it.

I look at myself, only now noticing my pulsing blue veins. That's right.. mana for golems is their blood, essentially. If I put enough 'mana' into myself, will I be able to form a new body and escape this imperfect body? I toss the crystal into my mouth. It tastes revolting, yet I swallow it down.

I feel something course through my veins- agony. This is pain.. isn't it? Now, I understand why humans want to escape this pain. This suffering is unimaginable, my body burns and writhes in pain so horrible, I regret ever saying that she needed to suffer to 'grow.'

I collapse.

I can't breathe.

I wake up.

H.. how many hours has it been? I have new notifications that I wasn't aware of. Three hours? No, too short. Twelve? Too long. It has to have been somewhere along those lines. But why wasn't I ambushed by more goblins or ogres? Why were the walls so dusty when it was supposed to be a dungeon, goblin hands would have been all over those.

I replay everything.

I understand now.

I was a fool.

The illusion.. the ogre. I'm not in a dungeon. I'm in some sort of simulated 'space' that resembles a dungeon. That's why I haven't been ambushed yet. But my Will of Steel.. it should have picked up on this sooner. No- it only blocks against mental attacks. Whoever did this.. summoned everything manually. I need to get out of here. I shake myself up, grabbing and sheathing my sword.

I continue to walk around the strangely-lit corridors of this 'dungeon', if you can even call it that. I keep wandering, for who knows how long. My legs are exhausted, my head still throbs from the pain of the mana crystal, and my sword is unkempt and dirty- not as if it wasn't ever not dirty. I'm a paladin.. what do paladins do in times of despair? They lead the party.. and they pray to the gods. Prayer? Ah, how my pride will suffer.

"Storyteller, help me out?"

As if the Storyteller herself heard me, and she probably did, a door appeared when I turned around the corner. A big, looming door made out of an unknown wood with iron chains shackling it, as I hear beastly roars and the tearing of flesh.

"You lead me straight to the boss room."

Faith is nothing but a lie sometimes.

I approach the door, as the chains break and I see the door creak open. There is a beast feeding on ogres, goblins, and the odd hobgoblin here and there. It's a massive wolf, with grey.. or red fur, I can't tell. It seems to have horns attached to it, similar to that of a bull's. It towers over me easily.. it must be over four times my size.

I see it- the blinding light. The wolf is dead, fresh blood covering its own bloodred fur. It is 'fated' to die, but I dont know how. All I have is a rusty sword, and my side has barely recovered from that fight with the ogre. I unsheath my sword. I don't actually know what happens when you die- I'm sure something troublesome happens. "Fate shall be my guide.. this is it. The basis for the Fated Sword Style." I feel something surging in my veins- it must have been that mana crystal I ate. It overloaded my veins with mana, and now I'm finally using it.

It charges at me- no, it hasn't happened yet. I can 'see' the fate of things! I ready to dodge, unsheathing my sword to get a counter-attack in.

It charges at me.

I charge at it.

Blood splashes on me- but I know it's not fatal. I made a deep cut in it, but it's still roaring at me, rage fueling it even further than normal capabilities. I turn around, trying to see the 'fate' of the next clash. I can feel something building up in my left eye.. the 'vision.' I can see it- he's going to roar at me, to send me flying.

He howls, a defeaning roar threatens to send me off my feet. Thanks to me being made out of some sort of metal that's obviously very dense, I manage to stay on the ground, just barely. I close my eyes tighter, and let the future guide me to my destined target. I realize something important- what I've been missing this entire time as a paladin. Faith. I must have faith in my determined fate- to slay the wolf.

I charge at it- dodging is useless.

Fated Sword Style Fated Slashes You fate your slashes to hit a certain area.

Good to know.

I slash at it five- ten, no, more than that. I feel the pressure building up in my eye. I feel the wolf tearing into me as I climb up its body, slashing it everywhere.

It takes hours- or what feels like hours.

At the end of it, I'm covered in blood. My grey skin is now red- just like the wolf.

My eye bursts- my head throbs and my screams of agony are unheard in the empty room.

I try to hold myself up, but I can't stop the pain. It forces me down, making me bend and arc in a while that shouldn't be possible. I struggle to stay awake, knowing that if I pass out now something might happen to me.

I close my eyes.

I failed.

I wake up again.