Five Thousand

We were brought to a cavernous chamber, whose scale was so massive, so titanic that the only equivalent I'd seen in life was a football stadium. The entirety of it was rough hewn from the rock, at its center a large altar carved from the same stone. Surrounding it were hundreds, maybe even thousands of tables and benches, each one seating a dozen children. The oldest looked to be about Amparo's age, at most.

Massive braziers stood burning at specific intervals around the altar, their smoke rising to the stone ceiling. Just above the altar there was a mighty gash in the stone, where the smoke could escape. Through the hole the naked night sky could be seen, and through which moonlight poured in, bathing the altar in a white glow.

For the past three days I'd merely assumed I was no longer on earth, but upon seeing the moon, I accepted the truth. This world had only one moon, and it hung in the sky far larger than our own, but most distinctly, it lay shattered. Large chunks of its milky-white surface were torn out, hanging around it in a clear field of twinkling debris, and from those wounds clear blood red magma flowed like weeping wounds. It was so close that I could almost make out individual mountains on the moon.

Amparo and I were separated to different tables. I sat at the head of one, like a guest of honor, while the same was done for Amparo. Surrounding me were other children of various ages and of different climates, but they were all clean and wearing simple white tunics. Before each of us was a covered wooden bowl, a small loaf of bread, a knife and a spoon. They didn't dare speak to me, and truthfully, they didn't speak at all. Despite there being literally hundreds, maybe even thousands, of children here, it was deathly silent.

How in all the seven seas did they manage to silence thousands of children. I opened my mouth to speak, only to find that no words came out. The others looked to me, nodding in understanding. I realized that I could only hear the pounding of my heart, and nothing else. Not thrum of tapping on the wooden table, or the crackle of the wood burning on the brazier only a few feet away. Nothing at all.

All heads suddenly turned, and from the entrance I'd come from, I saw a procession taking place. Dozens of monks trailing after a high priest dressed in white, purple and gold. All of their lips were moving in unison to a sonorous chant, but I heard nothing. They went to the center, with all of the monks gathering around the altar in a circle, and the high priest ascending the steps to the altar. I recognized the high priest to be Aldebardo, and he made eye contact with me. He stared at me, eyes piercing, but he made no gesture of conciliation. His gaze was melancholy, and so unnerving that I had to break eye contact.

Every part of me screamed that there was something wrong here. Something was not right, but I couldn’t find the strength to rise up and flee. I felt weak and sluggish, as if my entire body were covered in weights that threatened to drag me down into the dirt.

I watched as Aldebardo conducted some kind of ritual. His lips moved, clearly praying to the powers above. He then took out a small scepter from the folds of his robe, and a monk handed him a large chalice. He then dipped the scepter in it and sprinkled us with the liquid. A droplet splashed on me, a red fluid that tasted like wine. After that, he concluded with one more prayer and spoke the only word I could hear ‘Eat.’

I felt a compulsion overwhelm me, utterly robbing me of any autonomy. Worse still, it didn't feel like an external command foisted upon me, but my own desire bubbling up. Tearing off the lid of the bowl, I found a hearty meat stew, still hot, still steaming. I ate voraciously, forgetting all sense of composure or control. In mere moments I'd devoured both bread and soup, and I remained hungry.

Something strange was happening to me. Something is wrong with me. These past few days have been strange. There are gaps in my memory I can't account for. Amparo! I needed to keep Amparo safe. Where is Amparo? Javier? Where is she, Javier, is she safe? Who is Javier, and why would he know the answer to those questions? Who was Amparo?

===

Gremlins! Where did they all come from? Why are there so many around me? Of course, of course.

I NEVER LEFT THE LABYRINTH.

I AM STILL IN THE DUNGEON.

I HAVE TO SUFFER FOR EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER DONE AND FAILED TO DO.

I needed to kill them. Ten thousand demons, and I would finally be free. I didn't need to reach out to get to grips with one.

It pounced on me, knocking me off my seat and sending us sprawling into the cold stone floor of the Dungeon. It was howling spittle into my face, I could feel the concussive force of its screeching and the awful rot of its breath, but I still heard nothing. Our violent struggle played out in silence as I allowed the fury to overtake me. With so much strength in my fingers and hands, it was easy to overpower the gremlin and stab it in the throat.

Why was there a knife? We were only eating soup and bread. There was something important. I needed to protect someone, but who?

I had no time and no chance. More gremlins came at me, but they were weak and I was merciless. It took no effort at all to gut them, to cut their throats and break their necks.

*Ding! Level up!*

The gremlins were all fighting each other, killing one another, and that was fine with me.

*Ding! Level up!*

Every one another kills is one I didn't have to deal with.

*Ding! Level up!*

*Ding! Level up!*

*Ding! Level up!*

There was something strange about my hands. They're not my hands. These are the hands of a gremlin. A gangrel. A demon? The blood soaked hands of a murderer.

*Ding! Level up!*

Am I a demon now? Of course. I'm in hell now. For the sin of allowing everyone I loved to die. Because I didn't try hard enough. I didn't work hard enough. Because I didn't try hard enough. Because I wasn't enough.

‘Loiel!’ I heard someone yell.

‘That's not my name!’ I screamed back, grabbing hold of its source and stabbing it once. Twice. Many times. ‘That's not my name! That's not my name! My name is-!’

What was my name?

*Ding! Level up!*

‘I don't want you to die, Loiel.’ Someone said, blood flowing from her lips, her cold trembling hands clutching my own.

The world was spinning too fast, too incomprehensibly. I didn't understand what she had done until she had fallen to the ground. Glassy, dead eyes stared at me. A mound of bodies surrounded me.

*Ding! Level up!*

===

The silence had changed. I looked around me and found every surface caked in blood and gore. I saw the dead children piled up in death struggles as they’d only succeeded in killing one another. It was no longer silent because a spell ended all noise. It was silent because everyone else was dead, save for me, the priest and the monks upon the altar.

I could now hear their sonorous chanting that was growing faster and more frenzied, more insane. Their cryptic words were drowned out by the frantic beat of my heart, as I looked down and saw Amparo dead in my arms. I held her close and felt no breath, no pulse. Only silence.

Was everyone else really dead? So many children, dead, just like that? How long had that taken? How many? How much? How? How? Why?

‘The chosen one.’ The high priest said, warmly, like a grandfather gently embracing their grandchild for the first time.

He descended from on high, under a beam of light that left me nearly blinded. But I could make out his features, I could see. Aldebardo smiled.

He took me by the hand and led me into the light. I didn't have the strength to resist. There was no anger left, all of it had drained away like pus from a wound. All of me was gone, left with just emptiness.

‘Why did they all have to die?’ I whispered.

‘They were sacrificed to save the world.’ He said as we floated to the high altar, where he set me down. ‘Five thousand innocent souls will live on in you.’

It immediately reminded me of those sacrificial altars from the old world. The type where the people from the ancient world, before the invention of compassion, would sacrifice animals, prisoners and children to some uncaring god. He drew a long dagger, and I hoped that he would kill me too.

I could not live with myself being the only survivor of five thousand.

He said words in a language I couldn't understand, but I instinctively knew to be ancient, older than the world itself. Under the sacred light that came from the ruined moon of an alien world, he plunged that knife into my heart.

*ding*

Class change initialized.

Class change requirements met:

-The sacrifice of five thousand innocent souls by an innocent hand.

-The undying hatred of the world.

-Soul Mantle Ritual: Completed

New class: Legio Tyrannidis (Slave Knight)