The Kiss of The Deep:: Deadmen's Reach

The Endless Loop

We marched toward our destination, the dread heavy in our steps, but beneath it all, there was bloodlust. The promise of vengeance against those who had torn our world apart was enough to drive us forward. Deep down, we all knew that whatever we would face here, it would haunt us for the rest of our lives. But there was no turning back. We'd come too far, bled too much. We couldn't afford to stop now.

As we moved through the city's crumbling streets, the signs of the cult's twisted rituals grew clearer. The walls were covered in strange symbols made from blood and excrement, a grotesque display of their worship. The stench was unbearable, the air thick with the stench of decay. Some of the cultists who had escaped our wrath were still here, disavowing themselves, marking the walls with their madness.

One of my men tapped me on the shoulder, whispering into my ear, "They're still alive... and they're smiling."

I stared ahead, ignoring the strange unease that crept through me. "Focus on the mission," I replied. "We'll deal with them later."

But truth be told, I had no intention of coming back. We'd expended too much. Too many lives, too many resources. I knew this was a trap, a trap designed to bleed us dry. And I had a feeling they wanted exactly that.

Then, we came upon something that froze me in my tracks.

There, in the middle of the madness, was the kid. He was wrapped in the arms of a half-skinless woman, her flesh hanging from her in ragged strips. She was drugged beyond recognition, her eyes glazed over, unable to move or fight back. She ran her skinless fingers through his hair, an eerie tenderness in her touch.

But it was the kid that made my stomach churn. His clothes were shredded, and symbols were carved into his skin. Strange, cryptic markings that I didn't want to think about. The weirdest part was the look on her face—a look of shame.

She raised her eyes to meet mine, and I felt something twist inside me. She spoke, her voice carrying an edge of familiarity. "Hello, old friend. You might not remember me, but I do remember you. I hope your time here wasn't as bad as last time."

I stood frozen, unable to process the words, the moment. But before I could respond, she cut me off, her tone darkening.

"Do you ever wonder how humans keep a god chained? Through belief and sacrifice." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "That's how you got your eye. The goddess of machines blessed you, and the Chain God blessed the kid, because in our strange way, we worship them."

My mind reeled, trying to make sense of what she was saying, but she continued, her voice growing louder, more frantic.

"But what do gods do with their followers?" She spat the words. "They test them. They test our convictions, pushing us closer to the edge. But what happens if you fail their little game? They make you play it again and again, until you break."

Her face twisted with fury, a deep, raw rage. "We used to be friends. We used to be acquaintances. We used to be family. We used to be enemies. We used to be unlikely allies. We used to be lovers."

Each statement hit like a bullet, tearing through the fog in my mind. The memories, the fragments I couldn't piece together. They were all coming back, but they didn't make sense.

"With every loop, it changes just a little bit," she said, her voice breaking. "Enough for us to get close. Enough for us to turn on that charger once we get our blessings. But every time, we lose pieces of ourselves. I'm outside the prison, outside the game. I'm not trapped here anymore."

I stepped back, the weight of her words crushing down on me. She was right. The memories, the strange, flickering images—none of it felt real. Everything felt fragmented, like I was being pulled between different realities, each one distorting what I thought I knew.

"That's why you can't remember what it was like on the outside," she continued. "Only bits and pieces, right? And why the kid never once asked your name. He already knew it. He didn't want to tell you because he knew what would happen if you did."

Her words twisted like a knife in my gut. "Because in this endless hell, ignorance becomes a blessing."

I was lost. There was too much, too many truths I couldn't face. The loop, the game, the endless suffering—it was all too much. But then, she whispered the last part, and for the first time, I thought I saw a way out.

"I have what we need to end the endless cycle."

Her voice held a promise, a hope that I wasn't sure I could trust. But if there was even a chance, I had to take it. There was no going back now.