The next memory was with Dann, from a time when his eyes turned red, and Emblem began to see a difference between a human and a Dark. It was what the devil lavished and moaned about, and it was indeed enjoyable for what it could be, or won't be.

  Yet when he killed Dann in cold blood, it was not... that. It was wild. Was it even right?! Was it another fabrication or something he wished to do for a while, or... did it? It was cursing his emotions, wasn't it?

  The demon called out his own bullshit, and felt more than confused, and nowhere near as wise as before.

  Memory fragmented, and a wild Creatures came to William in a camp surrounded by a humongous Primeval while Dann was stuck behind the plank of wood, still alive.

  They surrounded a kid who was less than ten, yet felt like no kid for their faceless faces.

  Rank 5 Creature was just one, surrounded by younglings of Rank 3 or 4, who all seemed smaller, lighter, with their darkening skin and crackling bodies full of strength and curious Arcana. Their muscles and perfection were lacking, giving their youth and mouths shapes that differentiated them from others. It was quite a sporadic, nice clan indeed, and they looked very curious if one forgot who they were facing. The Red Bolt?

  “No...” William said, accepting the death, because this camp was no more, and his crimson spread and touched his spirit and body alike.

  His right arm pointed out at these freaks, a thin line spreading and cutting into one Creature that was crouching behind a dying Walker. Its head turned, and its body turned limp when a line cut into it, killing it in an instant.

  The rest of the Creatures hissed, and their pack leader charged at William, but he smiled in an unnatural grin as pure, unadulterated terror and red eyes looked at it.

  A hand turned into a claw swayed, turning this Creature into dozens of body parts that swirled and remade its body. A kick went to William's head.

  It cracked in a weird laugh.

  Crimson still hissed its arm to dust when William turned around, snapped it to pieces, and grabbed its head next.

  Smashing it to a pulp had done its duty, and it was indeed a fine time. The rest of the young Creatures stamped their fingers and bit into William's sides, arms, and back.

  He didn't feel anything.

  “Memory...”

  

  

  William felt a stir of deep, unkempt emotions in his mind, and in a flash, memory cracked apart just as the Creatures turned.

  It felt it too, as evidenced by memories it knew it shouldn't have, or had forgotten, forged, or touched a long time ago.

  

  “W-what is going on?” William mumbled back in reality, watching no Screen anymore, but saw a thin resemblance of a demon opposite him and over his mirror self.

  

  By now, the insertion had gone deep, and the flow was as quick as it could be, back in normal time. Hough was grimacing, and his eyes were glued to the monitors less than five feet away.

  The wrist part of William's arm endured a sharp pain when his fingers cracked, swirled in mist, broke down tendons and muscles, and began to rebuild. The Emblem itself was unknown.

  

  William felt his anger and disappointment, yet had no awareness as to why he should feel the same way as this demon, or... was it him all along? Through his senses, that was false. His Emblem was the answer to everything, and it was how he was even alive at the moment. He had no gratitude for Dann. All that was remaining was the appreciation of friendship and lives. He would have been dead anyway, but he still lived.

  The pain was nothing, even when his Emblem erupted the moment the syringe exploded into a bloody mist.

  Hough turned, slapped each cheek, and smiled like a scientist who got a great present. “You! Who do you see, or whom do you watch? What is it that you wish?!”

  Gritting his teeth, William endured this nonsense, trying to find help where it was unnecessary, or... well, it was impossible.

  The true terror began when the fluids found their way in, even if they stopped coming into his body. Instead, the tubes from the former syringe spilled those liquids onto the ground. It wasn't in Hough's mind to push a button and stop it. The flow never stopped because it wasn't over, yet.... what was he even watching?

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  William's upper body was fully exposed, with skin that was cracked and disintegrating while regenerating. Blood and crimson like mist and flames enveloped him, giving his eyes a notable dazzle.

  Excruciating pain became mild when William imagined worse things. It was what a spirit was about. His worst enemy was his memories, which kept fragmenting and showing him everything! Even the things he didn't want to ever regard again.

  He saw Lunatics, a group of humans forshipping Darks and putting sacrifices to altars. He was there too, trying to do the same, but why the hell was he the priest, or the one on the altar, and then... the one killing them? Where did the memory of Stark come from, young, brittle, yet wetting his pants? Where did survival move, devotion crack, and Madness follow? He hid in crevices, hated those noises, lost his Emblem, and got by being a silly little crooked child trying his best to remain alive. He tried it for real, knowing it MUST be real. If not, what to trust?

  William felt a hot discomfort as if he were going through people and Darks alike, remembering this on his own accord because he wasn't willing to become an idiot who wasn't aware of every one of his actions. His Emblem didn't want it either, yet some things moved together, or differed from the desires.

  By now, ten minutes had passed without the end in sight. Hough wished to get it together or defined, but it seemed the entire procedure was somewhat pointless, as the challenge was not yet over. Butlers smiled wryly because they also protected that syringe, but it still exploded.

  The process of rebuilding continued to escalate tenfold when William recalled his memories and felt the noises and the demon's grunt of pain. He screamed, laughed, and puffed red mist from his lungs and skin alike, while below his feet, a red pond was slowly forming.

  He didn't want it; he promised himself to be quiet, yet as many promises go, breaking them was possible in the briefest of moments. He smiled, cried, and laughed through clenched teeth.

  “Is it funny?! Is it good?” Hough demanded as he got close enough with his curiosity. He wasn't too close, yet he could be if he had to be.

  That crimson Emblem was still changing, which Hough found abnormal. There should be further reactions, yet where and how to influence them the best was troublesome.

  “Very strange. Should I grab another syringe?” Hough inspected his monitors, shocked to discover a bunch of nonsense. Most readings were out of order, and whatever affinity was moving through his sequences left Hough in a state of shock. He still checked the contraptions and cuffs, and it seemed to be working, unlike the syringe, which didn't last long. Numbers were adjusting in real time, changing from single digits to triple digits.

  “Ah... Is it broken, or has it been broken for years? What to even think?” Hough lamented and pushed his wheeled chair close to William.

  Crimson mist instantly turned denser and better, coming at Hough like a large, crushing wave. If it weren't for a barrier slapping it and a Butler pushing Hough away, something bad would have happened.

  “Oh!” Hough cheered on the ground, ignorant of cursing and arguing Butlers, “It doesn't want me, eh? Ha! In your dreams! I will get you. Get you!” Hough pulled his trump cards: a bunch of metallic needles and wire contraptions. He snapped his finger again. “Get me close.”

  Butlers could only sigh.

  Practices had to be careful, since Hough was an old man who shouldn't want to feel the weight of this Madness, but perhaps no one better qualified. But he could force it, even if it wasn't regular. He walked to William while light enveloped him from two Butlers, so he could watch how the crimson aftereffects emerging from William acted and wobbled, changing their patterns dozens of times per second.

  It was coming from the body, but as he watched further, Hough discovered the origin was still the hand. So he checked things out after inserting needles into William's body parts because half of the previous ones were long gone. These should last a bit longer and be part of the monitoring cables.

  Afterward, Hough touched the contraptions and noticed the red, crazy Emblem. As he leaned forward and loosened a few cuffs, he felt as if a screaming demon pushed him away, shaking him as he glanced into the middle of a raging vortex that was William's forearm. It looked at him, and it did not like him.

  Crimson lines and matter were like a face inside the gem, breaking free and escaping from inside and outside, while the body took it the worst, but that was alright. Cracks were spreading around the gem, and contraptions, which weren't optimal.

  Hough did one thing he didn't want to do. He let them all go. The moment he loosened a few bolts, the cuffs flicked to the ceiling, allowing the crimson Arcana to escape and creating spikes of wild flow. Waves, lines, and pushing mist smashed into the barriers, cracking them, and the energy was enough to push Hough far away, yet he still smiled and giggled.

  “Ha! Is it trying to go out? Splendid. Is it enough for it to escape?” He knew answers were close and reaching them was easy. “Something that hasn't happened in ages is before us. That doesn't mean good... or terrible consequences.”

  Seeing the deep whirling motion of crimson, enveloping William's freed right arm, Hough knew the next period had begun.

  “Switch. Let's continue with a chair switch!” Hough pushed himself up, pulling one particular big lever down. Activating a mechanism within the Accelerator and chair, a big surge of energy shot up from the ground, and the began.

  “Crimson. You are still soft before my great mind!” Hough laughed as if he had won this battle.

  Steam exploded from the ventilators, creating a large amount of thick mist. A vast amount of energy rushed into the chair, shaking William and the liquid that had found its foundation inside, and outside, on the ground, unmoving, yet seeming to sizzle in the presence of a wilder force and laws.

  Hough watched out for any mishaps. The problem didn't disappear or ease, so that was good. He could no longer watch over statistical consequences, so it was time to be practical and walk forward, protected by two barriers.

  He watched wires wince from the mist until a bunch of them got loose, and even needles shot to the ceiling, or turned to mist. Hough was excited since he believed the final touch was not in his hands. That was a fantastic sign, even if a number of special materials and creations weren't valuable for the entire sequence. Still, plenty of data was sent to the Accelerator, as indicated by the noises, fans, and moving numbers on the monitors.

  Inside the crimson mist, William's body was shaking as if he were in a constant current of high voltage. Even his lungs lost their functions, blood escaped his mouth, and his ears and eyes were not only full of Arcana, but also blood. Screaming fell dull, shrill, and the flow didn't stop.

  Veins broke all over his body, while his right hand felt seized, brimming with thin, innumerable strands of quick-moving bolts and lines. He was on the brink of death, failing consciousness.

  “No!” William growled, forcing the memory to stay—the one where his mother stayed with him for years. Until the fates said otherwise, and she still killed him.

  

  

  “Shut up... you... We... are what?” William forced his emotions and sensed what was his. That was very hard because he had never tried this before. It was like looking at something that was always there, yet not divided.

  It was how Emblem and Awakening acted. Two would be one, then become separate, then become one again. Usually, of course. This wasn't the case. He was still there, and this too was the same. Something weird was going on within his mind—a call of something not , yet amazing.