Cynic's Odyssey

An eerie silence fell upon Mathew. Pressing against his ears, and swallowing his every thought. The corpse in his home. The pursuit of an unknown Herald. And his mothers death.

It was all just, too much.

But It wasn't just the events of the last few hours that troubled him, in fact, one could say it was all just a culmination of his entire miserable life up until this point.

Mathew felt ready to give up, and rest. 

A strange feeling enveloped him, or was it within him? Wherever it originated from, he couldn't tell the difference anymore. And honestly he couldn't care less. Whatever it was, it seemed to embed it self deep into his very being.

The passage of time felt meaningless right now. Whether it stretched on endlessly or became stagnant was of no concern to him. He just drifted with no sense of presence. All he could feel, or care to feel was the gnawing sense of emptiness, as if everything he had been was everything he would ever be again.

After what felt like an eternity, Mathew found the strength of will to open his eyes. Looking from left to right, then back again then raising a curious brow. For a moment, he questioned whether he had truly opened his eyes, or was just dreaming it. Maybe he had just lost it and his mind was playing cruel tricks on him.

Any of these could be possibilities, because before him, was an endless expanse of stark, blinding white.

Wherever he looked, no floor, nor sky to form a horizon. Absolutely nothing. Just an infinite and seamless canvas erasing all sense of direction or distance.

As a human that had spent their entire life anchored by these concepts, their absence was jarring. As if the world itself had been stripped away, leaving only this blank, featureless void.

Was he, actually dead? The pain he felt after his encounter with the Herald was enough suggest that he had suffered fatal injuries, but now, he wasn't sure anymore. This begged the question, if he wasn't dead or dying, wh

at in the world was happening to him.

As if to answer the questions that raced through his mind, Mathew's thoughts were interrupted by a strange voice.

[Herald candidate, welcome...]

'Wait, that isn't a dream? Me? A Herald candidate?'

People like Mathew rarely had the opportunity to see these individuals, but even without seeing them, the stories of people wielding unrealistic and fantastical powers against monsters-like those seen in movies or comics-would always reach his ears. 

Before being able to put his thoughts in order, the codex spoke once more.

[Herald candidate, prepare to face your first trial.]

The void around him began to twist and shift.

"Wait! What am I supposed to do in this trial?!"

He wanted answers, but the Codex was uncompromising in its task. Offering him nothing but a simple vague instruction.

[Survive.]

With that single, chilling word, Mathew's vision blurred, and the white expanse faded away, giving way to darkness.

***

Mathew could no longer feel the hollow emptiness of the void. Instead, a new, familiar sensation crept over him. 

His eyes fluttered open and the reality of his surroundings before his eyes were laid bare. It was cold, cobblestone brick floor pressed against his cheek. Shaking off his grogginess as he pushed himself off the cobblestone floor and his surroundings slowly, but surely began coming into focus.

The walls were adorned large white gems that dimly illuminated the passageway he now found himself in. He was taking in the scene when as if struck by a wave, a heavy metallic scent stung his nostrils. A smell he was all too familiar to him as a dweller of the higher districts.

He turned his head slowly, scanning the dimly illuminated and eerily quiet passageway. The lack of proper lighting made it hard to focus, but his instincts told him exactly what he was looking at without him having to look strain his eyes.

At his feet was a pile of corpses, and surrounding them was a pool of blood. He stood in silence. The only sound that broke the silence was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. After a brief pause, the horror of the sight became too much to bear, doubling over, he vomited onto the cobble stone floor. 

With a low, trembling voice, Mathew looked round, his bewildered gaze darting between the horribly disfigured and dismembered corpses. 

"Where the hell am I?"

The wave of nausea that washed over Mathew was anything but welcome. He shot to his feet and took a shaky step back, but his foot caught something and he tumbled backward. Feeling a viscous and slick texture on his palm, the young cynic raised his hand and from it, a stream of crimson oozed.

For a moment, he just stared as the metallic tang thickened in the air around him.

He shifted, feeling something against his leg. To his side were corpses ripped apart and with thin and jagged bone-like objects protruding from them. Looking around and apathetically wiping his bloodied hand against one of the corpse's clothes, and muttered in a curious tone.

'What the hell happened here?'

Still sat on the floor, he felt a hint of vibration-unsettling and sporadic, as if something heavy was shifting in the distance. Then came the sharp sound of metal clanging. The vibrations and sound that reverberated through walls of the cobblestone passage sent an ominous chill down his spine. 

But what could it be?

Shaking off the eerie sense of unease and discomfort creeping up on him, Mathew resolved himself and started down the passage and toward the origins of the sound.

As he moved, the reverberations became stronger, the clanging echoed and twisted in the air, the sounds growing louder as he got ever closer. This was starting to feel like a mistake. Yet he couldn't just turn around without first understanding what exactly was going on.

Step. Step. Another step.

Faint traces of human voices now accompanied the metallic clanging. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. The survival instincts he had learned and honed daily while living in the higher districts were screaming at him, telling him to turn back. But his curiosity wouldn't allow him.

Caution, reason, and curiosity struggled desperately for superiority within his mind as he pressed on, with each step feeling like it brought him closer to the source and farther from safety than the last.

Soon, he approached a turn in the end of the passageway and cautiously peeked around the corner. As he did, his eyes were drawn to the walls where deep claw marks marked the cobblestone walls. What he saw beyond, was a sight most humans wouldn't have nor want the opportunity to witness.

The chances of surviving that encounter are slimmer than that of winning a lottery worth a billion.