Chapter 43: Who I Am?

Monique was regretting being chosen by her master.

After going down several floors, the spiral staircases changed places to the other corner of the floor and she had to walk through this sinister and creepy place.

Dirty walls, torches that barely illuminated the corridors and, worst of all, were not the old, smelly cells, but the prisoners.

Monique stopped at a cell where a mass of tentacles lay and, frowning at the deformed sleeping creature, she trudged on, swallowing hard.

The darkness was getting darker, and the prisoners were more sinister, not only in appearance, but in strength and auras. Some of them gave the impression of having their hands full of blood.

She was a former small-time minion who became a real super and was considered a supervillain, but even with her age and experience, she had a hard time assimilating the beings that were locked up in these prisons.

If she was told a few years ago that she would come to a place like this, she would believe that she would be used as a sacrifice to free the prisoners and she had never imagined that she would come here to rescue someone.

However, Monique continued to walk down the middle of the corridor and when she reached the other end, she descended again.

She could tell that years ago she would never have imagined she would be here, but now she was and she would not act like she had years ago.

She was a supervillain loyal to the Transcendental, the Code Black that attacked the Tower and she was stuck here carrying out the order of her master... The individual who gave her power she had never imagined obtaining.

The power that coursed through her body to her third eye was the source of her confidence. The knowledge that her master had given her some of his strength for when she needed it and this strength was no joke.

She felt that if she cast her third red, she could destroy part of this prison and perhaps beyond. That was how excessive was the power the Transcendental let her use and the problem was that this being did not control or limit her.

“The battle has not begun,” Monique muttered, looking up the staircase.

Her master’s battle had not begun and though it was rare, in and of itself, that being was rare. The ideas he had or his way of treating others and even his contempt.

She wasn’t worried about him, not when she felt some of her master’s power in her. Still, she was curious to know what was going on.

Monique shook her head and reentered the next floor and this time she frowned as she realized that the number of cells decreased from about a hundred to about twenty.

With each floor, the prisons decreased and the beings inside became more terrifying, but they were all sleeping. Here, however, the situation was different.

There were no longer bars that let her see inside, but rather thick doors made of metal and the only thing those doors had was a small window that allowed her to see inside and it was that opening that made her able to feel the auras more clearly.

Some were still unconscious, but they were violent, as if they wanted to wake up by force.

Descending to the next floor of the twenty cells, the number decreased to five cells, but the presences became more sinister yet powerful.

She broke out in a cold sweat as one of those auras surrounded her as if they were thousands of eyes staring at her and she could only continue walking when her third eye opened and the purple color illuminated her path.

“It looks like a spotlight...”

She muttered to herself as she walked to the end following the purple light and even though she had seen and experienced a lot during her years; she found it hard to bear the aura.

As she was about to reach the last cell, she felt the mental force coming from below. With each floor, the cells diminished, but the prisoners became more powerful and difficult to control and deep within, beyond the last cells, seemed to be the presence she sought.

A mental force that pulsed steadily and relaxed her mind.

“Don’t come down... It’s a trap.”

Just as she was about to take a step toward the staircase, a voice rang in her ears and her hairs stood on end.

The voice was neither female nor male, neither androgynous nor robotic. It was a formless voice that reached her ears even though nothing was stretching through the air.

She felt strange in a creepy way, as her mind sought to make sense of that voice and failed stupidly, leading her to instinctively shiver.

The third eye lit up, and she relaxed, controlling herself back and turning around, trying to look for which cell the voice came from.

“This is the last floor of the tower. If you go down, you’ll start at the top again. If you don’t fall asleep.”

The voice sounded again, and she focused on the last cell where she felt the voice came from. The metal door gave her relief that whatever was inside would not come out, but the grate of this cell was open, revealing deep darkness.

Monique controlled herself and pushed away that instinctive fear.

“There’s someone locked in here. If you tell me how to avoid the trap, I’ll be sure to inform my master of your help,” Monique said honestly.

She couldn’t promise to free him, but her master seemed like someone who would return favors and while she would do it because she surely didn’t want to owe anyone, she could be of help.

“Even freedom is a possibility,” Monique added quietly.

Several factors depended on freeing prisoners and one was whether or not her master took control of the tower, but if anyone who was here would surely feel drawn to the small possibilities.

“I am interested,” replied the voice and despite the strangeness of the voice, Monique sensed the subtle excitement. “The trap is an illusion. Don’t go down, just continue forward along the wall. Eventually, you will reach the deepest part where that being of great power is imprisoned.”

A being of great power? Monique was sure it was the one her master wanted to free, and she was thrilled.

She didn’t find it strange that they responded to her immediately and more so when freedom would be a temptation for anyone.

“Thank you. I will reward you,” Monique said, and as she was stepping back, she heard footsteps from within.

“Wait. Let me ask you a question,” said the voice, and when Monique stopped, she asked. “Who I am?”

The question sounded simple, but the voice was deep and pierced Monique’s mind as she froze completely.

The surroundings blurred and all that remained was the doorway and the grate with the being on the other side.

She had no time to see her surroundings, however, as her mind was focused on the question.

Who was he? Such a question came to her mind, and she frowned as she thought carefully about the answer.

That voice was locked deep within this prison where the most terrifying beings were imprisoned... Such was the basis for her answer and Monique, frowning, blinked, lost for seconds.

Her master’s mission was to rescue her ‘friend’ as he called her, that entity that was similar to him... Was that entity the voice? And if it was this voice, then who was it?

If she said the voice was her master’s friend, would that be an answer? Or would she have to answer with a name? However, she did not know the name of the being her master sought to rescue and could not answer in that way.

The question was complex, abstract and meaningless and she tried to find the answer and then stopped as her thoughts reorganized.

Monique looked through the crack and noticed that inside, where everything was dark, two eyes took shape.

They were eyes that were slowly taking on a purple color and Monique, who already had an idea of the answer, felt more confident and opened her mouth.

Her master never named the entity she was to release, but he always said that her friend was his equal and if it was her master’s equal, then....

“The strongest Transcendental of all.”

Wasn’t that the right answer?

The purple eyes inside glowed and a shockwave spread out for a few feet before it stopped, and then a figure began to take shape as the purple eyes turned yellow.

The figure smiled and in the next instant disappeared and Monique blinked, lost for a few seconds, before turning and continuing on her way, not down, but going forward on the staircase.

Instead of going down the staircase, the floor formed at her feet and she could move forward, crossing the wall and entering a new hallway. The only thing on her mind was that she had to hurry to free her master’s friend and everything else had disappeared.

As if she had never spoken to an unknown individual.

******

In the pavilion, with the tea cooling, Zack concentrated as he fixed the tower floating behind the Architect.

He was also fixing the woman’s mind and, for the first time since he came into this world, he felt excited to be faced with a challenge. The woman’s mind was in itself a complex puzzle with thousands of pieces and now not only were there missing pieces, but some pieces were repeated or broken and he had to fix everything.

He had to be meticulous and surgical, devoting his concentration to the job and it was costing him. It wasn’t because of the difficulty, but because of the woman herself he was trying to help.

“Civilization on this planet has had three stages. The primitive one before abilities were revealed. Abilities existed and were hidden, the reason being that only a select few had abilities and they kept it to themselves. That stage was dedicated to war and destruction. It was chaos,” The woman said and smiling as she remembered, she detailed. “You have to understand that even we fought in that period. We Gods of Dawn are the result of a long battle between gods. We are not the best of those left, but we are the strongest, and we supported the mortals.”

Zack listened to the woman who happily talked about the history of this world and resembled the babysitter who loved to tell details of the city, and both cases were extremely boring.

What was the importance of learning about the origin of the inferior beings?

“When the stage ended, the new calendar was founded. Let me tell you a secret. Actually, the abilities had to be revealed because the abilities were becoming too normal.”

The Architect chuckled softly as she drank the tea he had poured for her and Zack glanced sideways at her and noticed that the eyes were taking on their original shape... Six blue cubes that formed the pupils were taking on a glow.

Whoever had twisted the Architect’s mind had done it in a messy and troublesome way. Not only had they put in ideas that should not have been there, but also thoughts and traces of another personality.

He could tell that the mastermind behind it all was using it as some kind of experiment to develop mental skills, and it was a pain for Zack to have to clean up this mess.

“Am I boring you?” Elurien asked, this time glaring at him.

Zack, meeting the woman’s eyes, realized... She was aware.

Earlier she had told him about the local architecture and the different cultures that appeared on this planet, including those that were destroyed and he had to endure all that conversation.

However, he endured it because when she conversed, it helped him to bring order to the ideas and if the conversation before was instinctive, this time she was doing it consciously, knowing it was best for the process.

“It helps if you talk about your memories. Putting your knowledge in order helps me bring order to the mess going on in your mind,” Zack replied and as he continued his work, he noticed the woman smiling and asked. “Are you back completely?”

Whoever did this to the Architect sought to ‘blind’ her by giving ideas and replacing truths and also hiding some facts and that led to her reacting in different ways and seeing things that were not... Like continuing to believe she had servants when the reality was otherwise.

That someone had affected a divine being in this way made it clear that the person who did it knew what they were doing and knew the complex mind of divine beings and how their concepts affected the being.

So solving it was not a simple task.

“No. Still, my mind has problems,” Elurien said and smiling softly, she murmured. “I see you as an adorable little child.”

That a child would help her was the truth or part of the deception? Zack rolled his eyes with contempt.

“A joke. I guess the personality you greeted me with was fake.” Zack muttered to make conversation.

The woman moved her hand to her mouth and hid the smile as the six cubes swirled inside her eyes.

He was still, and his concentration was inside the woman’s mind. Arranging millions of tiny fragments scattered across an infinite space... Elurien’s mind was a mess and shaping everything was a complicated job that only he had to be focused on.

“You mean my diplomatic manner? My serv... servants. No, I no longer feel my servants in my realm. They...” The woman paused as she met his gaze and she closed her eyes before opening them again. “I receive my guests diplomatically. Those with whom I am more confident I can joke with.”

She tried to force her mind to reflect on her servants, who were gone and wonder what had happened, but her mind was still too unsettled. What helped most was for her to converse on another subject rather than focus on what had happened and force an answer about memories that were gone.

The previous way of treating him as diplomatic and friendly was not a false personality, but a role she took on with strangers. Zack nodded and continued with his work, frowning as he encountered some difficulties.

“You won’t say anything?” The woman asked, smiling curiously and enjoying his frown as she watched him work.

“You mean the trust? I think it’s mandatory. I’m on the inside of your mind that has no protection. I can shatter it or control it, even reform it. The only thing you can do is depend on me, Architect,” Zack replied calmly.

The woman let out an uncomfortable laugh and despite the idea he was implying; she didn’t raise her guard and let him work.

She wasn’t giving her confidence because she wanted to. She was doing it because she needed to give it or else he wouldn’t be able to work and Zack had to admit it wasn’t an easy decision to make. She could ask him to stop right now and she could try to seek help with another being, but she didn’t.

“You’re enjoying yourself. The look of concentration you have reminds me of when I was young,” Elurien said and, taking a sip of tea, murmured. “The look of an artist.”

She compared it to when she was young, related to a state rather than age. It was in youth that beings like them were most curious and devoted to their tastes and goals. Emotions were addictive and such emotions were lost with time and responsibilities.

“It is not every day that I get to play with the mind of a divine being. I’ve destroyed minds like yours, but I’ve healed very few of them,” Zack answered honestly and as he was about to speak on the subject, he stopped.

A mind wave came from deep within the tower and Zack, looking down, emanated its power. The mental wave seemed to twist reality not excessively, but subtly and faintly, enough so that beings of great power would not notice.

However, twisting reality for him was easy, and it was obvious from the architect’s seriousness that she had felt it too.

Zack looked at the floor passing floor by floor, searching and checking the prisoners and advanced until the cells dwindled in numbers and then at the bottom of the prison he felt two forces colliding.

The first was from the Brightest Transcendental that was hitting the prison she was locked in and the other was similar to his... A pure mental force.

“He must be the one who did this to me... He... Uggh...”

The woman, trying to speak, grunted in pain and grabbed her head, leading Zack to refocus on the mind that was once again cluttering up.

“Concentrate,” Zack commanded, and Elurien obeyed, calming his mind for him to work.

His senses were now set on the enhanced minion, who seemed to be moving unconsciously and whose memories of the last few minutes seemed to be missing.

Zack continued to watch her, but his concentration remained on Elurien and her mind, wanting to steady her before he set her aside.

He wasn’t interested in the person who was here and only cared about the brighter transcendental and the architect, so he focused on the task at hand.

“If I were a mind collector, I’d take yours,” Zack muttered and seeing Elurien blinked uncomprehendingly at his muttering, he revealed. “Don’t worry, I don’t collect minds anymore.”

Zack continued working, even though Elurien was looking at him strangely.

What? He had already made it clear that he had stopped collecting minds and had left that dark stage of his life in which curiosity drove him to collect minds and check them carefully.

Of course, the curiosity of someone like him was usually deadly to inferior beings.