Confusion (part 2)

Fallen understood once a more new feeling: dizziness. After the teleportation, he placed his hand on a nearby wall to collect himself. And—body bent, mouth wide open—threw up.

Blrugh!

"I hate this feeling."

Having regained some of his senses, he tilted his head up to see a double-barred wooden door. Around him was an enclosed room built with grey stones piled up on top of one another in a medieval style. He stumbled backward, still ill, and his talon hit something. A plain-looking silver altar candle elevated on a square rock to the height of his stomach. It was the altar.

He stood for a minute next to it, pondering his next move, and decided to look at his basic stats.

Fallen sat down in front of the altar, cross-legged. "So… what now?"

He barely had time to talk that a beam of light descended from above, even though there was no hole in the ceiling. As Fallen was trying to comprehend this bizarre phenomenon, a status window appeared in front of his empty eye sockets.

__________

Name: ???

Titles: Fallen, Interrogator.

Basic Stats:

- Strength: Lv2 [Low-M]

- Endurance: Lv1 [Lowest]

- Mana: Lv0 [Nonexistent] (your mana sucks)

- Agility: Lv1 [Lowest]

Skills:

- Alive but dead Lv14 [Divine]

- Reaper of souls Lv10 [Pinnacle-L]

WARNING:

Further features are locked until the requirements are met.

__________

He perused through the content, attentively reading his stats on the blue ethereal window. The design was simplistic… too simplistic. Yggdrasil could have given him more detailed pieces of information but appeared to be unwilling. No, he simply didn't meet the requirements yet, whatever that was supposed to mean. He sighed at the thought and continued his analysis.

His skills and basic stats had levels that seemed to be graded according to their power. Then, something else caught his attention.

"My mana sucks?" He read.

First, the divine tree threw him in this hellhole with no warning. Second, the pieces of information he had been given were sparse. And now, to top it off, this dungeon was mocking his meager abilities.

A rough, primal and somewhat familiar feeling boiled up inside him: anger. Unable to contain it, he lifted his skull up and yelled the first obscenities that came to mind. In his anger, he called the entity managing the status window 'system', founding the term fitting.

It took him a few minutes to loosen up. Whoever he had been, it seemed he had quite the fiery temper. Despite the system's taunt and his previous excess of anger, he found comfort in his understanding of a new feeling that had been easier to understand than the others.

"Anyway, back to work." He said, looking at the skills.

<Alive but dead> might be what will resurrect him after each death.

<Reaper of souls> was self-explanatory.

But those grades: <Lv10 [Pinnacle-L]> <Lv14 [Divine]>

The amount of mysterious information kept stacking, with no plan on slowing down it seemed. He needed something to take his mind out of those confusing thoughts.

The status window automatically closed when he stood up and headed for the barred door. He lifted the wooden bar fairly easily, probably because of his strength stat, and threw it to the side. The Fallen pulled the double doors open and ventured forth.

Outside, the dark clouds partly obstructed the sunlight, coloring the horizon with grey. The air ricked of ashes that would have dried his throat and obstructed his nostrils if he was human. The surroundings were barren to the point that he felt cold, despite the blood-warm temperature.

In front of him, decrepitated tombstones surrounded a plaza with stone pavings. At the center of that place stood a four-meter-tall tree. The lack of nutrients had deprived its branches of leaves.

On the stone floor laid dozens of skeletons with various rusted pieces of equipment in hands. The Fallen eyed the nearest sword with a feeling he did not yet understand.

"Yggdrasil, my dear, you shouldn't have!" He joked, taking a coquettish tone.

After his previous outburst of anger, he had realized that he needed to somehow keep his train of thoughts positive. However, loneliness offered but one solution: cracking jokes. Somehow, as if it was a close friend that accompanied him for a long time, he already knew humor.

Fallen approached the nearest skeleton and bent to grab the rusted sword. Then... the skeleton moved. It reaffirmed its grip on the sword and stood up. Four amongst the dozen skeletons lying on the ground followed its lead. Fallen stood still, disoriented and stunned by the unforeseen event.

The nearest skeleton wavered, then launched its sword at him, landing a vicious downward slash. Caught unprepared, the rusted weapon lacerated his breast cage despite its pitifully awful state. Even as a skeleton, the Fallen felt a tremendous pain from the strike. Afraid, he stepped back.

Behind him, a skeleton, waiting in ambush, bashed him with its shield. His skull hit the ground violently, sending some of its pieces flying.

Taking advantage of his loss of balance, the skeleton wielding a sword doddered forward while laughing. His partner in crime joined in, adding another voice to the gloomy symphony.

"Kakakakaka."

"Kakakakaka."

Feeling lowered by those two bastards, Fallen tried to stand up. However, before he could do anything, the skeleton adjusted the tip of its sword downward and sank it into his skull.

He died.

* * *

Blrugh!

After his resurrection, he 'threw up' to his heart's content. Apparently reviving also 'blessed' him with the urge to vomit.

"Fuck!"

Feeling nauseous, he sat in front of the altar to catch his breath. A beam of light descended, and the status window appeared. The same status as before, apart from one single detail.

__________

Cause of previous death:

- Caught unprepared (LOL)

__________

"..."

Anger—on top of his lingering irritation from his previous death—formed a cocktail of confusing emotions at the obvious provocation. He immediately felt the need to ease the "feeling of being lowered". But his fragile bony hands couldn't make the cut, and no weapons were at his disposal yet. Therefore, he armed himself with the first thing he found.

Wooden bar in hands, Fallen's predatory glare set upon his unmoving prey. In his uncleared state, he gathered every ounce of strength he had, mimicked the other skeletons' laugh, and launched a powerful blow at the altar.

"Kakakakakaka!"

BAM!

And died.

* * *

Blurgh!

Indeed, vomiting in front of the altar is becoming a ritual, he thought.

Altar? Ritual? He laughed at his own nonsense joke, more out of pity for his situation than fun. After all, it took his mind off the current problems he faced. The only issue was his laugh.

"Kakakaka!"

Attacking the altar wasn't a good idea. Some kind of formless shield had returned the bar to his face before the improvised weapon could hit the structure. What followed was easy to guess.

Nevertheless, it wasn't a fruitless endeavor. Now he knew one thing: the wooden bar could be used as a weapon against those skeletons. Armed with it, he exited the room. Like last time, the enemies rested on the ground.

He walked to the nearest skeleton and prepared for the inevitable confrontation. The skeleton moved, and an ugly laugh escaped through Fallen's teeth.

"Kakakakaka!"

BAM!

The skeleton's skull exploded, sending its pieces flying. Fallen laughed while frenziedly hammering his enemy's body to bone powder. Then something cold entered him: the skeleton's soul. Who would have thought that skeletons had souls?

Drunk on his first victory, he felt empowered, invincible even. Thus he learned confidence. It clouded his mind, ruling out any logical thinking. Fallen needed to voice out to the world his newfound emotion that threatened to explode.

"Is there no one else!?"

His foolish act awakened 10 skeletons instead of 5. He felt like a fool and made a mental note for next time: "no taunts". Fallen grabbed the dead skeleton's weapon. Ran back to the altar room. Barricaded the double door. And stood in front of it, sword in hand.

Soon after, weapons and fists hit against the wooden door. The unusual knocking, announcing the incoming bloodshed, sparked another feeling: fear.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Fallen's legs shook at the thought of facing 10 enemies. His unexisting heart raced like a mad horse fleeing for its life. His mind, which had been filled with questions, was now a blank sheet. Anger, humor, confusion, dizziness, and confidence. His newfound emotions collided and broke apart, replaced by fear. A fear rapidly grew, submerged, and shredded his already feeble spirit.

The previous feeling of invincibility?

GONE.

His mind?

BROKEN.

The situation?

HOPELESS.

He enclosed himself in an airtight bubble and thought of his most 'good' memory—whatever that meant. What came to him first was his time in the void. Yes, it had been dark. But it at least nobody had threatened him there.

"Kakakakaka!"

Skeletons started laughing as if they were mocking him. The confined space amplified the sound that bounced from wall to wall, creating a hellish loop that pierced through Fallen's bubble. His spirit cracked again as he dropped his weapon, bent his knees, and tried to plug his nonexistent ears.

Futile struggle.

He hammered down his own skull against the stone, trying to block the skeletons' laughs from stepping on his almost broken mind.

Then… he remembered. His most happy memory wasn't the void, but the voice that had come out of it.

"Don't be afraid..."

Slowly, the warmth from those words made its way to his broken mind, gradually piecing it back together. The fear faded. The shakings subsided. And, with newfound strength, he stood up.

"... and come back to us, my love."

Thus, he wished to survive.