An Orchestra of Sheep

A collective realization of danger swept through the crowd as the Maharaji's actions poured over their heads like cold water.

In the blink of an eye, a thousand disciples fled to the entrance, afraid the exit would close if they waited too long.

The Maharaji gestured to the six elder disciples.

"Holy Mountain Executioners, take your positions."

The six disciples walked slowly to three of the four sides of the room: two on either side of the disciples and two in the back, leaving the front solely to the Maharaji.

Tens of thousands of disciples vanished in the blink of an eye. No longer taking any chances, those who valued their lives quickly recited the second mnemonic and escaped into the black water portal.

Polka looked at Ged with a worried expression, hesitating in her mind about whether to stay or leave.

Those who stayed either had blind confidence that they simply would not be killed or were still skeptical of the Maharaji's intentions, believing that his beheading threat was just an act to scare them.

Ged was aligned with the first group of disciples, thanks to the grassy green hill that appeared in his mind, he blindly believed that nothing would go wrong. He and his friends would make it out alive, his belief so strong that a dumb unconcerned smile was on his face.

He saw Polka, who had a distressed look, and gave her a big smile and a thumbs-up, quelling many of her worries. Pim had his own concerns and even less confidence than Polka. He was about to recite the second mnemonic and leave, but a clear line of sight suddenly opened up, and he caught a glimpse of the confident, unconcerned Ged. He changed his mind.

"I must have faith," he steeled himself. "I will make it through this trial." A resolved look appeared on his face, and he smiled thankfully toward Ged.

Ged also tried to look around to see if he could find Brit and Raff, now that there were fewer people, but before he could get a good look at those around him, a force sent him to his knees.

The exit vanished, leaving only twenty thousand disciples in the ballroom, less than half the number from when the Maharaji began his address.

"Those who remain, I commend your brave and unyielding courage.

"I wish you all luck in your enlightenment."

With a hand signal from the Maharaji, the six Holy Mountain Executioners unsheathed their swords.

"Begin the slaughter!" he roared.

The six executioners stepped forward, slowly making their way through the disciples, cutting off one head and then moving to the next to repeat the process.

The Maharaji also joined in, cleaving disciples at twice the efficiency of the other six.

The disciples chosen for execution seemed to be picked almost at random, but upon closer inspection, each executioner was following a spiraling pattern, starting from the outskirts and moving inward. Once each executioner reached the center, they walked back to the edges and repeated the process.

Ten minutes passed, and the disciples who stayed began to regret their decision. Many became emotional wrecks, tears streaming down their faces, unable to accept their deaths until the bitter end.

The ballroom was filled with desperate cries, but as time passed, many of these cries turned to silence as the crowd thinned more and more.

Ged stood alone, quietly observing the scene in front of him with a composed expression.

An executioner walked up to one of his neighbors, the same person who had cheered on the shaved-head boy when he threatened to kill Ged.

Ged's neighbor cried and begged for mercy, but mercy did not come. Ged watched with a blank expression as the final bit of life left the boy's body.

In Ged's mind, the images of the green grassy hill remained implanted, each moment detaching him further from what he was seeing.

Ged saw an executioner approach a familiar-looking blonde-haired girl. She was in a state of complete panic, tears falling down her face. The sword was raised and quickly fell.

Ged saw Polka become the target of one of the executioners and a single tear fell from his eye.

In a brief moment, no longer than a second, he was stricken with grief, blame, and remorse.

He grieved the death of his friend, her glowing smile hanging momentarily in his mind.

He blamed himself for not telling her to leave and return to the entrance, feeling as if his actions had led to this moment.

He felt remorse at his own helplessness, trapped with his hands and knees glued to the ground, able to do nothing but watch his friend die in front of him.

All these feelings and more quickly disappeared, morphing into a blade of grass on top of a green, grassy hill. The image of the hill was now much more detailed; the grass danced softly in a gust of wind, and the sun shone from above, casting shadows down on the hill.

The tear in his eye dried up, and his mind completely cleared.

"Goodbye, Polka," he spoke, the last bit of sorrow escaping from his body.

Polka's body collapsed to the floor, her oversized green bracelet clanging beside her.

A calmness washed over him, and a faint smile came to his face.

Beside him the shaved head boy was not as calm.

Internally he was cursing his decision to stay. Even through his demonstration he was unconvinced of the Maharaji's words.

"There has to be a limit. There has to be a point to all this murder." He thought to himself.

An hour in, the executioners were still going strong. Every second, two heads would fall to the floor as the executioners worked like machines to produce their slaughter.

The shaved-head boy was beginning to doubt his own judgment. The killing wasn't slowing down at all; in fact, it was speeding up. He sucked in a deep breath, unsure of what would happen to him.

Although this thought was terrifying in its own right, there was something else bothering him even more.

"This man has watched this slaughter for the past hour and still looks as calm as he was when we first got here. I watched him; he didn't even shed a tear when his friend's life was taken."

He looked at Ged, who was smiling as he watched another disciple's head roll. The shaved-head boy recoiled in fear.

"Demon!" The shaven headed boy screamed in his mind. "This man is completely mad."

As he was talking to himself, an executioner crept closer. He hid his face in fear, staring straight at the ground.

"No! Not yet!" he spoke aloud.

The footsteps approached closer until finally, he heard the screams of one of his neighbors. He looked up and saw the executioner had just passed him by.

A chuckling laughter came from Ged.

"You find this funny? That man could have easily gone and killed you instead." The shaved boy spoke to Ged, fear still visible in his eyes.

Ged continued his faint smile, "we are in such a terrible situation, what else can one do but laugh?"

The shaved-head boy stared at Ged, feeling anger well up in his heart, but he held it back.

As he looked at Ged, he saw an enigma. He couldn't discern what Ged was thinking, and that terrified him.

The shaved-head boy stared at Ged, feeling anger well up in his heart, but he held it back.

As he looked at Ged, he saw an enigma. He couldn't discern what Ged was thinking, and that terrified him.

Raised in a family of criminals, he had encountered his share of insane killers. They were all terrifying individuals with distant, unfathomable personalities. But they shared one common trait: they were not people you wanted to cross.

With no shame or dishonesty, they were capable of entering your home and killing you while you ate breakfast, sometimes for the smallest reasons.

He began to grow wary of Ged, seeing him as akin to these insane killers. In his mind, he pictured Ged smiling and laughing as he stabbed his friends through their chests.

The image terrified him. Now that he had time to think more logically about his situation, he began planning how to proceed, prioritizing his survival.

Having lived in the criminal world, he understood the value of adaptability. Criminal organizations and leaders could fall overnight, and someone you once despised might become your superior. Surviving in this environment required the ability to set aside hatred and bend the knee to a rival at a moment's notice. Unlike those who rely on laws to solve injustices, criminals depend solely on themselves. In crime, self-preservation is everything.

"I see no value in provoking someone this unpredictable. I need to change course to avoid a potential disaster," he thought to himself.

Forcing himself to laugh, he chuckled awkwardly, speaking in a friendly tone he spoke to Ged. "What a positive way of thinking about things!"

"Brother, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I think your line of thinking is very agreeable. I hope you will forgive me for my previous behavior."

"Please call me Wex. If we survive this, I hope to get to know you much better in the future."

A frown appeared on Ged's face, making Wex incredibly fearful that his flattery had failed.

Ged looked past Wex to a scene occurring behind him.

"Goodbye, Pim," Ged finally spoke, a smile returning to his face.

"Pim?" Wex stuttered slightly, confusion and fear on his face.

"My friend just died," Ged responded, gesturing towards the corpse of his friend.

"Oh... Sorry to hear that." Wex was beginning to sweat under the pressure of Ged's words.

"He was a good person and a good friend. I hope his reincarnation is favorable in his next life," Ged replied positively.

Wex couldn't find the words to respond.

A moment passed, leaving Wex alone with his thoughts.

"This man's thoughts betray his words. Poor Pim. If this is how he mourns his friends, I can only imagine how he mourns his enemies."

Wex cursed himself for getting involved with Ged in the first place.

"I made a grave mistake getting involved in this man's business. I should have ignored his damn yelling. "

"Damn my short temper!" He screamed in his mind.

"Even if I survive this ordeal, there's no telling what this man might do to me once we're on the outside. I need to prepare accordingly."

"I accept your apology, Wex. I'm Ged. I hope to get to know you better in the future," Ged finally spoke, his tone cheerful.

A chilling feeling of the deepest unknown touched Wex's brain as he looked at Ged's innocent smiling face. Ged's eyes became like dark abysses, and Wex's mind reeled, his heart momentarily stopping. Gasping for breath, he barely managed to pull himself back together.

"Brother Ged, I wish you the best of luck in this trial," he managed to speak.

"You too," Ged replied kindly.

The second hour mark had just passed, leaving less than two thousand disciples in the room. The atmosphere was quieter now, with those remaining resigned to their fate.

The Maharaji moved toward his next victim. With a chop, he muttered under his breath, "19129."

He paused, looking over at the other executioners, counting again as another disciple was beheaded.

"Stop the execution!" the Maharaji commanded.

The executioners ceased their killing and returned to their starting positions at the outskirts. The Maharaji gestured with his hand, and the bindings that had kept the disciples kneeling on the ground were lifted, allowing them to move freely once more. Even the invisible walls disappeared.

"The mountain has spoken, sparing your lives." The Maharaji spoke, his voice deep and commanding.

"Look around you."

"This is the transient nature of death. These were once your brothers and sisters, your friends and your enemies. But the mountain took all their lives for slaughter, without emotion, without reason, yet you live on."

"Imprint this feeling into your hearts," he continued.

"This is true faith."

"This is what happens to those who climb the mountain."

"This is my gift to those who lived. I will give you a moment to digest this feeling before we begin the next trial."

He stood at the front of the crowd and closed his eyes, allowing the disciples to contemplate.

The disciples had varied responses to the trial.

Some wore expressions of anger, others sorrowful. Some sought to understand and find meaning in the Maharaji's words, while others tried to block out everything they had heard, burying their heads like ostriches in the ground.

Ged had little reaction to the Maharaji's words. He found little meaning in the trial, the slaughter, the killing—it all seemed largely pointless to him.

Would he have prevented his friends' deaths if he could? The answer was uncertain, but the truth was that he couldn't, so he didn't. Instead, the image of the grassy green hill sharpened in his mind, and Ged began to push away the violence that had occurred.

To the other disciples, fear was evident in their eyes as they looked up at the Maharaji. He seemed like a holy, untouchable god, ready to punish those who stepped out of line without a hint of emotion.

To Ged, however, the Maharaji was more akin to a passing natural disaster. It had struck, caused devastation, and now it seemed poised to move on.

Ged glanced over at Wex, who was still seated on the ground in a daze.

"It looks like we both made it through," Ged remarked, his voice clear and full of life.

"So it seems," Wex replied with a ghastly vacant look in his eyes.

Ged surveyed the room, ignoring the bodies on the ground, searching for any sign of Brit or Raff.

Across the room, Ged spotted a man in a familiar suit standing up.

With a wide smile, he hurried over to speak with Raff, who was still visibly recovering.

Raff hadn't fared as well as Ged during the trial. Mentally exhausted, he had always exuded extreme confidence, but now he looked around him. Although relieved to have survived, the sight of destruction before him, made him want to vomit.

He had a solemn look on his face, his face drained of all its blood. 

As he scanned the surroundings he saw a familiar green haired boy running his way, he saw him hopping over lifeless corpses, passing by traumatized disciples, a smile plastered on his face.

"Raff! You survived!" Ged yelled out.

Raff didn't even think to check if anyone else he knew was alive, the two hours of slaughter made a big impact on his mind.

Raff saw Ged and his mind stirred, "What the hell is going on?" He squinted his eyes. Seeing the happy and smiling Ged as he frolicked over dead bodies made him question if what he was seeing was real.

"Ged?" His voice was parched, as if he hadn't drank water for three days straight.

"Where's Brit, have you seen her?" Ged asked.

"Brit?" Raff tried to think but he had a hard time working his brain. "I saw her over there at the start. I have no idea if she survived though." 

Ged looked over and followed Raff's finger, finding Brit a small distance still kneeling on the floor. She seemed to blend in with the bodies around her, shaking and crying. Clearly distressed by the entire event.

"Brit?" He attempted to speak to the distressed Brit.

"Ged? Did we survive?" 

"Yes, it seems we both have a fair bit of luck. We are alive to see another day." Ged replied joyfully.

"Luck?" Brit questioned. "I guess so."

Brit tried to look up, but upon seeing all the headless bodies quickly regretted her decision cowering back towards the ground. 

She held herself down in the fetal position, not wanting to move.

The Maharaji whisked his hands, and all the dead disciples' bodies disappeared from the ground.

"We will now begin your third and final trial." He spoke loudly.

"This trial will test one's connection to the mountain."

"To those who pass will become one of our treasured outer disciples and go to train in one of our historical sects."

"You will be given 10 days. I wish you all the best."

With that he whisked his hand again, and a familiar thick black water portal opened up around each surviving disciple teleporting them away from the ballroom.