A terrific flow followed a painful numbness. That was the common thought about the spread of the liquid into their flesh, their blood, and their muscles. They were all connected, staining and overwhelming. It spread through Celeste's whole body in seconds, making her feel as if she were drowning, yet her right arm was the sore spot that took this liquid for a different sort of bombardment. She did not like it. Something that shouldn't have entered her body was just wrong, and it changed the flow and her life!? How dare it....

  Hough loved seeing the difference with glee in his eyes. It took way too little for this much? Hough put a bracelet-like apparatus around her arms and attached a bunch of small wires with locks to her other arm, forehead, and legs. Monitoring was crucial, and each wire was linked to acceleration and multiple protocols.

  “There we go. Let's see what you are about, or want, little Emblem.” Hough murmured as he walked around the chair and pulled one peculiar knob.

  It was time to seize the and this . As the syringe maintained the balance, a deep echo thundered like lightning, and the liquid accelerated. Celeste jolted up even more, screamed from her numb state of mind, and began to yank her body in agony. Sturdy cuffs wrapped her sides and neck, so nothing harmful would come from her craze, yet even then her body winced, and the chair shook.

  The pain was a useful tool, which she knew well. It followed light that began to cruise right in, deepening and churning like flames. Her skin swelled, bones creaked, and her right arm began to eat as white, red, and black veins bulged from the arm to the chest.

  Her Emblem hissed so much that white cracks spread outside within another second, sprinkling around her arm, and soon bathing her skin in strange cracks. The light began to outshine the surroundings, and then... black corners joined this harmony and turned into wild black waves, moving farther and enveloping her whole arm, then her torso, and her legs.

  White and black fought for sustenance, then for a balance, whilst fighting or dancing. It was hard to say which was more correct, but the contrast was incredible, full of those two deep colors that had lost all redness. Celeste wasn't bleeding, after all. She was .

  What was right was no longer important, as a pain rampaged, creating what one might call a transformation from the depths to the surface.

  Her right arm was at the breaking point, vibrating with squeaking energy that soon turned to a hum and quickly ascended into a different realm. Celeste could no longer feel her fingers; she believed pulling her whole arm off would be less painful than this, and the fact that she thought that said enough. She was still lucid, while the colors merged sooner rather than later, drawing closer, each no larger than the other yet still fighting for what was best.

  “A rather noisy one,” Hough patted his ears when he noticed the harmony in less than a minute. There was a waiting period, and he was pretty much done with what he could do. That meant his favorite thing began: observing, judging, and trying his best to uncover the changes and assume the flow and of this girl.

  Checking her physically was useless. His eyes aimed for her Emblem, or spiralling to the unknown, and the numerous monitors estimated the rest. He watched the screen change, thanks to automatic detections, as numbers, diagrams, and many sections of the reading turned into an insensible madness.

  For him, it was clearer than the sky, and a frown appeared on his face when the flow kept going, liquids tensed, and Celeste still screamed. The white energy was strong, while the black, shadowy flames spread further, howling in distress. It got edgier, and the whole Accelerator started to rumble and heat up.

  So Hough snapped his finger, gesturing for Butlers hiding in the shadows to act up because this was no longer a mess he was willing to test. At last, a special kind of host emerged! Frankly, Hough was getting bored and always welcomed the challenge.

  There were ten Butlers in total, since Hough never wanted to low-ball anything if he could. One of the Butlers made a barrier around Celeste and began it according to Hough's demands. It ensured nothing would break in the machinery, and containing Celeste's Awakening was better because of it, yet not for her. It didn't stop the pain. It was more like a cage for a ludicrously expensive process.

  Oh, how loud she was. She felt as if every bone in her body had cracked and rebuilt, and it reminded her of many things and memories that felt insane. And sober. She was still feeling and cursing at those noises and voices, but she couldn't focus on the image ahead, or the other her who might be there for her, or not at all.

  She wanted to stop this, touch it, and accept it, yet nothing helped or made it easier for her. Because, once more, this wasn't supposed to be fucking easy. She got that from everyone, and , and she tried her best, but this....

  This was terrific.

  She was lost in the darkness when the shadows enveloped her head, leaving white spots for her eyes to gleam, shining in a blazing, mostly dark storm.

  “Now, this is new... and quick,” Hough added and sat on his own little chair aside the monitors.

  Celeste lost herself and went deep when something snatched her awareness.

  [SEE?!]

  A different one demanded, and Celeste watched as the darkness shifted when she thought of certain moments. Many were important, and many did turn to that the moment she lost them. This place was wicked, and one memory stood out from the rest.

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  Her vision cleared from the darkness, revealing the history she admitted with little to no guilt. It wasn't evil, good, or pleasant.

  She stood in a cage, a little and almost broken little kid with rags and blood on every inch of her body. She was cold, yet also hot. She was dull, numb, yet living. There were Darks around her cage, sniffing her, making noises, snarling at her, and howling at her, while she was just a little kid. Not even five years old, perhaps? She wasn't scared; she was mindless, unable to speak because she had never seen a human in her life.

  Australia was wild, yet the stars above her created light, and that reddened moon moved within the night, giving her company, or a light way outside of this insanity. She found it incredible, or like a God-set vision that the world wasn't all black and white! That one was red. That one was nice, albeit far too distant for her little hands to clutch.

  She was in the wilderness, surrounded and looking sorry beyond human belief. Small and with rags for clothes, there was nothing good to come to her.

  She blinked, suddenly remembering a memory that had been blazing within her chest, and the memory intensified as Celeste realized where she was and when. It was old... really old. It was unfortunate, but back then, she almost didn't remember anything.

  Darks believed in the good ol' supremacy of flesh and power, yet killing her was forbidden, and so was supremacy over her flesh. It was like a living testament to their greatest aspirations. Rare targets, so to speak, were rarer depending on the prey and hierarchy put into the words of adversaries, and death. This one was little, far too little to quench anything, for that little feeble shard was nothing but a nice, young, unsatiated dessert.

  They could squash it without a thought, but none of them dared, for hierarchy also put them into their place, like her.

  There were beasts, demons, and strange-looking Darks, resembling lizards, spiders, and snakes. They swarmed her cage from the shadows, red light cascading and contorting their shapes from above. Those brave lurked close in interest, watching over her so that she wouldn't be left alone.

  She knew way later they wanted something, yet when a loud step echoed, they whimpered and looked worried instead. Then they created a path for a King who arrived, ensuring that everyone understood where they stood and what was to happen.

  It was a big Creature, and it walked forward, looking like the night itself. Its head was overflowing with dull flames closing to tendrils in vision, and its deep eyes had no pupils but a vivid black void. Stars glinted in its torso, though, but there was nothing red as far as Celeste knew.

  Its mouth was thin, its nose way too small, and its whole body was bulging as if muscles and bones became dense fibers made of dark energy. Like most Creatures, it had no clothes, and its anatomy was close to human perfection, with gender being almost irrelevant, as they had no special disperacies unless one looked for specific blood and clans. This one was clearly male, as evidenced by the muscle and anatomy Celeste learned recently, or... well, later in her life.

  It walked, ignoring the beasts that protruded before their King. The Creature crouched down before the cage, gesturing for Celeste to come closer, but she didn't listen--she couldn't listen!

  She didn't panic as she stared, broken, dull, numb.

  She followed after the third attempt, for the Creature didn't seem to mind repeating its action. There was nothing good to come if she refused it forever, yet that was a memory, and now... not one. She felt the difference, didn't know herself back then, and this thing before her... was different. She was also different.

  She learned and felt that there was something new here, something weird in its hand, besides the pain. It was like an offering, yet no voice came from its smiling and gentle face.

  This was years ago, so Celeste wondered whether she was dreaming. She hugged the large finger, glad to no longer be alone and finally be allowed to roam in the Holy Land!

  [There is a loss, and then, there is THE loss. Show it...]

  The memory changed, and Celeste faced a huge, bright steppe. The sun was beaming, and the air was hot. She was nine years old, living in the former Holy Land that was no more, but here, it was more than alive. It was thriving at a festival, and she was part of it.

  “What is this?” She asked herself, aware that this was a memory, yet it felt so surreal because she was living it, and it was reacting. Her home was intact. Dreadus had yet to come. Looking around, she saw beaming fights, battles going on out of fun for the festival, and dozens of Rifts spread across the horizon for nice guests and a ton of fun. There were people. A lot of them. They shouted in joy and had a great time together with her friends and...

  She recognized this memory the moment her body moved on its own, taking her back to the path of pain and loss. She rushed to her home and entered her cave, feeling an urge and a sense of foreboding dread ahead.

  There, she met a that had never appeared before her eyes. This close, it was a Walker, yet what was the difference!? She realized some crazy, weird creatures existed out there, and she was one of them because King said so, not in a good or bad way. It was a mere test, like any other. A game, too, perhaps? She enjoyed games. They were fun and precise. She never spoke to a human, yet a human was before her, walking in her cave, and wasn't very subtle about it.

  Benjamin was his name, if she recalled, and he was trembling in disbelief, gazing at the crystallized bliss and pool that glittered in this cave, creating a one-of-a-kind safe zone. Then he turned, looked at the girl who suddenly came out of nowhere, and gazed at him with a cold, ashen expression of incredulity and slaying.

  “What the hell is this?” He said, frowning, as if she were a sudden invasion. “You... Who are you? Do you live here?” He demanded, wincing in those freaky waves that looked sharp and stabby.

  Celeste wasn't speaking, yet took his voice for something familiar and understandable, unlike his face and clothes. She had those too, and even a face, she believed, but that voice felt really weird. She didn't have one. It was dead.

  Benjamin got suspicious and spoke to her further. “You are here all by yourself... Oh, gods. Oh, I think I know where this is going. Excuse me for this, then, since I have no patience for a brat that knows nothing. Anything for an advantage. Everything for the family,”

  Celeste stood as if she had frozen in the memory. This was no vision after all, yet it felt as if she was reliving her terrible dreams and expected them to change. It was a futile attempt, but wouldn't it be fun to see what it would be like if it were different?

  Well, she imagined that. The man... hit and crushed her head in one swoop, killing her, and truly winning this bout.

  Celeste snapped that to a real, genuine memory, where it didn't happen, and believed only two possibilities were ever and always possible—survival of the fittest, and being dead or alive. Anything else was sinful and wrong! Apart from games, that is. Games were true and full of rules, and they were fun. That was crucial.

  This was just a nightmare, no more than a game of truths and lies, and punishments.