MCSM: Shattered Souls [COMPLETED]

23- In Which the Dam Finally Breaks

The bright blade sunk in deep, going all the way through his body. His expression of shock never had the chance to fade before Entity 303 dissolved into a pile of chalky red dust.

No scream of pain. No promise of vengeance. No flicker of regret.

Gone, just like that.

It took me a full minute of simply standing there to process it. He was gone. I'd killed Entity 303.

There wasn't even anything in his inventory, just the shimmering orange weapon that had somehow failed to do the one thing it was supposed to. I tried to reach down for the sunrise sword, but ended up collapsing on the unforgiving stone. I may not have been dust-ified, but I was still dying.

Around me, the arena began to flicker and disappear. Entity 303 was dead, and his chaos-magic was no longer holding this place together. I slowly lifted my head to see that I was back on top of the obsidian tower, where we had first met him. Right in the center was the stone he had said would take the last surviving Shard home. 

I pulled myself into a sitting position, agony from the wound making my entire body throb. It felt like years since we'd first appeared here, first met Entity 303, first discovered the layers of linked secrets in our pasts. Blood leaked from my side, beginning to puddle into a scarlet pool on the black surface.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I reached out and grasped the orange sword, which had thankfully not moved when my surroundings changed. The pastel blade of my own Aristan sword was still in my other hand, and I quickly touched the two together. Just like with all the other times the swords had merged, a bright light filled my vision, the flash colouring my sight red behind my closed eyes. The change seemed to last longer than any of the previous times, but when the brilliance faded, I opened my eyes to find a truly extraordinary weapon in my hand.

All of the Aristan swords had seemed somewhat magical, but this one was unearthly. It was a bright, perfect white, paler and purer than quartz or snow or any cloud. The handle appeared to be birch wood, and the hilt was pale gold, with a small white gem in the center.

The perfect little prize for winning the trials. 

Unexplainable rage filled me to the brim, sending adrenaline coursing through my veins. It's hard to explain how the simple, pure, perfection of that weapon made me so angry. Maybe it was simply the reminder that, according to what Entity 303 had said, I was now a complete person. Whole and perfect, just like the sword, yet more shattered than I'd ever felt before.

I staggered to my feet, the pain and fury canceling each other out and leaving me with a rapidly eroding numb spot where my emotions should be. I lifted the sword, staring down at the carved stone and wondering if Zelos had been telling the truth. At this point, I didn't care if it would work or not; hell, I didn't even care how it would work.

Just like I remembered, there was a wide groove in the top of the stone, just long enough end-to-end to accommodate a sword blade. With my own heavy breaths echoing in my ears, I plunged the sword into the gap in the stone.

The world tipped and bent around me, collapsing in on itself like it was being pulled down a drain. My vision blurred, and my brain felt like it was being tugged in a million directions at once. The tower, the stone, the dark sky above me, they all warped and ripped away, like a handful of torn paper being thrown into the wind.

And then it stopped. Everything went dark, still, and silent.

I lifted my head, and through my still-blurred eyes, I could see that I was in a large, open room, with red carpeting and tall windows in the stone walls.

The Order's treasure hall. I was home. 

Right then was when my energy levels collapsed, and I dropped back down, laying weak on the floor. The pristine white sword lay next to me, and I rolled over just enough to see our treasures floating above their pedestals. The White Pumpkin head. The Atlas. The Redstone Heart.

Hopefully my friends would put the Aristan sword on its own pedestal when I was gone. 

I was so tired. So broken, physically and emotionally. I wasn't sure how long I'd been gone from the Overworld, and- like with so many other things -I didn't care anymore. I'd met monsters of legend, nearly burned to death, almost gotten killed by one of my own friends, and barely escaped the claws of the ice monsters. After all that, dying from a sword wound to the kidney seemed a little pathetic, but at that point, I'd have taken that over having to live with the memory of all that had happened.

What gave me the right to survive when the other Shards hadn't? What claim did I have that Jenni or Jandro or Justin had been lacking?

The truth was...I didn't. 

The blood from my injury seeped into the floor, staining the burgundy carpet an even darker shade of red. My eyesight blurred again, this time with tears.
I would die here. I'd fought my hardest, survived the longest, and here was my reward. Throughout the whole trials, my goal had been to get home, to not have to die in the impossible prison of the Farlands. To leave this world knowing that I'd succeeded, even if that success was a loss.

A bright light lit up my vision, dotted by the black spots dancing in front of my eyes. I didn't move, and was barely aware of the red shape coming towards me, bringing the light closer. Distorted sounds flitted on the edge of my consciousness, filling my ears without making it to my brain. My eyes slowly drifted closed of their own accord, and with the darkness came silence, and the slow loss of pain.

Dying was a lot more peaceful than I'd imagined.

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I have nothing else to say here

Word count- 1029