Aurora had tears in her eyes. It had been a significantly long while since Dorthna had seen her cry.

  “Please,” she begged as her husband bled out quietly on the floor and his teammate stood there completely confused and helpless.

  A second ago she had just offered him her life. It reminded him of the same offer her husband had made many years ago when she had been lying helpless on a hospital bed, dying from the loss of her Oath.

  Madness had come to him with the same offer, even if less emotional and tear ridden. But it had been the same offer. Save his wife and Dorthna got his life in exchange. Madness’ request, however, had been more logical than what his wife was begging for. At least their children would be better off with Aurora as a single parent than Madness as a single parent and Madness had known it.

  Aurora, however, was speaking from a place of emotion. How did she expect Madness in all his eccentricities to be an amazing single father. Madness meant well but it just wasn’t reasonable for him to be a single father.

  And it wasn’t as if he could get another wife. Dorthna knew how often Oaths of Madness found love. It was more common for them to die alone than to even find the simple satisfaction of friendship.

  “Dorthna.” Aurora grabbed him by the shirt and looked into his eyes with rheumy eyes of her own.

  Tears stained her cheeks and Dorthna watched her contort in terror.

  Would she be so terrified if it was her child dying out on the ground? Dorthna wondered. Human emotions had always been something of an intrigue to him, even if he often found himself displaying them as well.

  Slowly, without taking his eyes off of her, he slipped the strand of white hair in his hand into his pocket. Then he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “Aurora,” he said softly.

  “I’ll sacrifice anything,” she pleaded. “You can have all my masteries. My stats. My skills. You can have my class.”

  Her desperation was palpable. So palpable that it filled the air in the living room and choked it. She hadn’t even noticed that the living room was completely bare. No television, no furniture. Nothing.

  Madness continued to bleed out all over the ground behind her. His teammate continued to worry over him and his helplessness.

  The situation was unfortunate. The agreement he had with the Lockwood family was simple. Apart from protecting their children in their absence until they were either Gifted or came of age, he would only interfere in their own lives if they paid the price for his interference.

  Sometimes a certain level of skill mastery was the sufficient price. Sometimes a stat point was the price. Once upon a time, when Ninra had come down with a specific type of cancer and no [Healer] on earth could save her, Dorthna had taken an entire skill from Madness.

  But this… this was something else.

  Dorthna had the decency and respect of looking Aurora in the eye as he told her the same thing he’d told her husband all those years ago when he’d come begging for Dorthna to save his wife’s life.

  “For this,” he told her solemnly, “your life will not be a sufficient payment.”

  He watched his words break her. Her jaw dropped, mouth opened to say words that would not come. Dorthna did nothing, waiting as a man would wait for the outcome of a decision he had made. A decision that weighed the world against his principles.

  Releasing him, she staggered to one side of the room not too far away. There had been a chair there once, and she deposited herself upon it. But since the chair was gone, she simply dropped to the ground.

  “I know a guy in Pakistan,” Fendor said quickly. “He’s an S-rank [Healer]. He might be able to help.”

  Aurora shook her head absently. Her eyes were glazed as if she was no longer present. Despair was eating her sanity from within, rendering her a husk of what she was.

  “Life couldn’t heal him.” It was all she had to say.

  That was interesting as far as Dorthna was concerned. Not the part about the Oath of Life not being able to heal the Oath of Madness, but the part about the Oath of Life from this world finally showing up. It was most likely because of Melmarc.

  “We can’t give up, ma’am,” Fendor said, rushing to her. “We can at least try.”

  When Aurora looked up at him, the Delver stepped away from her. His face was the perfect touch of shock not terror.

  Slowly, she pushed herself up from the ground and wiped her tears.

  “You’re right,” she said. “We struggle until the end.” Turning to look at Dorthna, she added: “Take care of the kids until we’re back.”

  Dorthna moved his hand, manipulating the countless spells and enchantments in the house to isolate the sound in the living room from every other part of the house as a new portal appeared behind Fendor.

  He leaned down to pick Madness up when Dorthna walked up to him.

  “How’s Deoti?” Dorthna asked the Delver.

  The man’s eyes narrowed at him in confusion as Dorthna placed a hand on his shoulder. Anger flashed in those eyes for a moment. He looked at Dorthna as if Dorthna was a monster, a man who had betrayed his friends. But Dorthna didn’t care. It was in the nature of those capable of thought to judge others based on their actions not their intentions or the circumstances surrounding them.

  Dorthna had always found that he cared little to nothing for the judgement of the sentient.

  “Thank you for bringing Madness, child,” he said simply. “Your services are no longer needed.”

  Fendor opened his mouth to speak but Dorthna pushed him into the portal he had opened before the words came out of his mouth.

  With a gentle wave of his hand, all the defensive spells of the house came alive again. No one on the planet would remember the location of the house. No one on the planet would be able to teleport back into the house.

  As for the Delver’s portal, it snapped shut forcefully.

  Aurora rounded on Dorthna with the violence of a woman about to lose her world. “What have you done?!”

  Dorthna moved easily as she tried to grab him. His hand intercepted her moving arms and guided them to the side. Using her momentum against her, he sent her staggering. In a world as young as this one, the strongest amongst them was only the strongest by comparison.

  He wondered how long it would take them to understand it.

  Ignoring her, he squatted in front of Madness and gave the Oath an apologetic smile.

  “Must be tough, huh?” he said.

  Behind him, Aurora did not attack again. She stood, waiting, hoping. Dorthna had seen a lot of people die to the false promise of hope. Hope that they saw in every corner when they were left hanging by a thread.

  Madness met Dorthna’s gaze but said nothing.

  “What were you hit with?” Dorthna asked, the question rhetoric. “How bad is it that you cannot talk?”

  “He fought against the Oath of Pain,” Aurora said very quickly. “I don’t know what he did to him, but he’s been bleeding ever since.”

  The Oath of Pain wasn’t a very powerful Oath by the standard of Oaths. Its real strength laid in the ability to inflict pain not cause damage. But enough pain was damaging in its own way. If it was painful enough the brain could quite literally abandon any part of the body it felt responsible for it.

  “Is that what you’re doing, Madness?” Dorthna looked in Madness eyes, seeing the same level of reason Madness always possessed. “Are you abandoning the parts of your body that bring you pain.”

  Behind him, Aurora gasped but Dorthna ignored her.

  Normally, the Oath of Pain was not supposed to be able to cause such levels of pain against the Oath of Madness. But Madness was weak in this world, his weakness completely Dorthna’s fault. Still, it did not mean that this was Dorthna’s fault. Madness had known the risk.

  “How much does it hurt?” Dorthna asked.

  Madness’ pupils dilated then shrunk back down into tiny dots.

  “That bad?” Dorthna mused.

  “How can I help?” Aurora asked very quickly. “I’ll do anything.”

  Dorthna was not in the habit of repeating himself. So instead of telling her that there was nothing she could do, he ignored her.

  The versatility of the Oath of Madness was in their madness. It broke their minds and split them into many pieces that allowed them to do things that most people could not do. One of such things was nigh complete control of their very biology.

  The Oath of Madness had the highest level of endurance amongst Oaths not because they were blessed with endurance but because they had the ability to ignore the pain that they felt. While their opponent waned under the pain of the damage inflicted upon them, Oaths of Madness set the pain aside and kept moving forward. The problem was that the very action was not a conscious one, not really. It simply just happened.

  So, right now, Madness was banishing the pain he was feeling. And, from what Dorthna could tell, he was feeling the pain everywhere. Even in his ability to think. So he was banishing himself. If his limb hurt, he banished it. If his heart hurt, he banished it. If his spleen hurt, he banished it.

  If you hurt, would you banish yourself, too, Madness? Dorthna thought, placing a hand on Madness' head.

  “Luck is also a stat in life,” he said as much to himself as he did to Madness. “You do not have it because it cannot be quantified. And if it was quantifiable, it would not be a steady number. It would fluctuate chaotically. But it exists.”

  Madness’ jaw moved but he said nothing. Dorthna wondered if the Oath was in fact trying to say anything.

  “Even as old as I am, luck continues to work in my favor as much as it works against me,” he continued, watching Madness die, watching Madness involuntarily kill himself. “You should know that Life could not save you because you did not let him. Or, more accurately, you could not let him. At your levels, he cannot heal you if you cannot allow yourself to be healed.”

  Life would fix the damage but would ultimately be unable to stop the pain. And the pain would continue to cause Madness damage.

  Madness balked as he coughed up more blood. Dorthna’s hold on his shoulder tightened, stopping him from fallen over completely.

  “You’re dying, Madness,” he said. “You’re killing yourself. And the woman you chose is watching it happen. She cannot pay the price to save you and you cannot pay the price to save yourself. But your son can.”

  “No!” Aurora roared from behind him. “Don’t you dare harm our child.”

  Dorthna turned to look at her. “I am sorry to say that your son has already paid the price. And he is more than fine, unharmed.”

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  With that said, he returned his attention to Madness.

  “Let it never be said that I paid kindness with neutrality. Even if it was kindness paid without knowing it.” He squeezed Madness’ shoulder, applying more pressure. It was enough to make Madness look back up at him. “Your son has given me hope and some more hope. To give someone like me hope is not a thing that is easy to do. I would argue in my own arrogance that hope given to me is worth more than just your life. Would you not?”

  Madness said nothing. In fact, his eyes were becoming so glazed over that Dorthna wondered if he was still capable of thought. Still, he did not stop speaking. The Oath had to understand that what was about to happen was not happening because he had earned it.

  “Hope is the gift given to mortal men,” he said. “Out in the cosmos, on the path beyond mortality, hope does not exist in the way you understand it. It is known that once you begin to depend on hope, you have lost your right to your place. Out there, the powerful make their own hope.”

  Madness coughed up more blood. When he fell this time, Dorthna allowed him. He watched the Oath drop into a puddle of his own blood.

  “But you are simply mortal,” he continued, pulling the strand of white hair he had claimed from Melmarc's head from his pocket and placing it on Madness’ fallen body as the Oath twitched ever so slightly. “So sometimes, hope should work for you. There is no reason for you to become your own hope.”

  [You have used skill Eye of The World]

  [Skill Eye of The World is functioning at 1%]

  Dorthna ignored the notification and paid attention to the flow of mana from the single strand of white hair. Pure mana was a powerful thing. More potent than any other form of mana in existence, it was capable of birthing miracles even among the powerful. However, the more powerful a person was, the more pure mana they needed for their miracles.

  The problem with people who used pure mana was that skills guided any form of mana used towards a very specific purpose. Pure mana was not immune to this. A [Healer] with pure mana would only be able to use pure mana to heal. A [Faker] with pure mana would only be able to use pure mana to replicate. At least, if the skill required the pure mana to do as required.

  Dorthna watched the strand of hair pulse with pure mana. Pure, purposeless mana. He had told Melmarc that this was a good and bad thing. The good being how well he would be able to leverage the amount of pure mana he had. The bad, in truth, was worse. Should he garner attention beyond his simple world or of an opponent too grand and knowledgeable in one of the portals he enters, he would find himself to be a very sought after commodity.

  He would be a very strong source of renewable energy with the potential for infinity. Dorthna doubted the existence of more than five beings in Existence with the potential of pure mana he now wielded.

  What it meant was that there were people that would burn worlds to get their hands on him. The [Envoys] would be good deterrents to burning down worlds for Melmarc, but they would not be deterrents to claiming him.

  The wider universe had just become a far deadlier place for this world’s [August Intruder] than the [August Intruder] knew.

  But that was that, and this was this.

  [Eye of the World] gave Dorthna the information he needed it to.

  [Pure mana detected is 100.00%]

  He almost laughed at the notification. Sometimes, being wrong was fun. Dorthna had assumed that a patch of Melmarc’s hair had grown white from absorbing too much pure mana which had led to tainting the hair. A one hundred percent mana detection proved him to be wrong. If the boy’s hair was tainted, the mana levels would be close to a hundred, not a hundred.

  Melmarc hadn’t just absorbed pure mana that he had generated, he was still generating pure mana. And with pure mana at that percentage, it meant that that patch of hair wasn’t even hair.

  Dorthna chuckled at the realization as he prepared the next skill he needed to use. The white hair on Melmarc’s head wasn’t hair. It was pure mana given actual physical form. Pure mana made manifest.

  It was Dorthna’s hope. The rarest thing in all of existence, and the boy was producing a handful of it. It was a pity that he was too weak to know how to use it. He possessed a power that endangered him but could not use it.

  [You have used skill Hand of God]

  [Skill Hand of God is functioning at 1%]

  It was time to recreate this single strand of pure mana.

  [You have failed]

  [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]

  [Try Again?]

  [Y/N?]

  Dorthna’s lips puckered in slight embarrassment. It had been a possibility, but he hadn’t expected it. At one percent mastery some things were difficult to replicate with a mana imprint of certain low levels and certain high levels. The trick was finding the sweet spot. But at a hundred percent, he hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

  Yes, he thought, selecting his choice.

  [You have failed]

  [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]

  [Try Again?]

  [Y/N?]

  He made it a point to not look back at Aurora. It would be really embarrassing if after all his monologuing, Madness died in front of him.

  Third time’s the charm, he thought as he selected yes one more time.

  [You have failed]

  [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]

  [Try Again?]

  [Y/N?]

  Madness twitched once more, coughing up more blood.

  Fourth time’s the charm?

  [You have succeeded]

  [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was successful]

  Dorthna suppressed his burst of satisfaction to a simple smile as a second strand of white hair took form on Madness’ body.

  “What’s that?” Aurora asked.

  “Hope,” Dorthna answered as he settled his hands over Madness’ body. “A gift from your son.”

  Purposeless and waiting as both strands of hair were, Dorthna infused his own mana into them and granted them purpose.

  It was singular and precise. It was simple and cruel.

  Let him accept the pain.

  the original strand of hair crumbled into white dust, then into smoke, and Madness jerked on the ground. Then he pushed himself up. He staggered to his feet, eyes wide in horror. It was the most emotion Dorthna had seen on the Oath. It was very human, very blatant, very unhidden.

  Madness looked at his blood covered hand, then at Dorthna, eyes growing wider. Then he looked at his wife.

  “Babe,” Aurora muttered, stepping forward.

  Dorthna halted her with a single word. “Don’t.”

  Madness’ eyes settled back on him, wide like a skittish horse.

  “What have you done?” he asked in the terrified trembling voice of any normal man. “I can’t hear the voices. I can’t—”

  “I’m sorry Madness,” Dorthna said, not really apologetic. “It was the only way.”

  Beside him, Aurora was confused, but Dorthna watched as understanding settled on Madness’ face. His wide eyes dimmed very slowly as realization dawned on him.

  “The only way?” he asked.

  Dorthna nodded. “The only way.”

  Madness looked at his wife and smiled sadly. “I love you, Aurora Lockwood.”

  Panic lit up Aurora’s face like a bonfire and she leapt for her husband. Dorthna didn’t turn to look at her. He kept his eyes on Madness as his hand shot out to the side and sent Aurora stumbling across the living room floor.

  Then Madness dropped to his knees and took his head in both hands. Then his mouth hung open.

  When the pain came, Madness felt it as much as the world around him.

  He did his best to alleviate the pain of it as much as he could in the only reasonable way there was.

  Madness let out a roar like a wild beast. The sound cracked the air around them and sent the ambient mana into chaos. Dorthna felt his mind attempt to split itself into something maddening and fail. The walls of the house cracked as spells broke under the weight of Madness’ pain.

  Dorthna paid Madness the respect of listening as the Oath’s pain threatened to tear this part of the world into a million pieces.

  Madness’s roar filled the world, and the world seemed to roar back in its silence.

  In the corner of the room, Aurora gripped her head in both hands. Impressively, held in the confined space with her husband and Dorthna, she lasted a whooping eight seconds before passing out.

  Dorthna spent the next minute rearranging and recreating spells to keep the house and this section of the world intact as he tanked all the pain that spilled out of Madness’ roar. It was nothing compared to what the Oath was feeling. Still, it was nothing to scoff at.

  But Dorthna stood in place, witness to a curse Madness was going through. It was a curse to return the pain of sanity to a man who had been insane for far too many years.

  In the echoes of Madness’ pain, Dorthna sensed what he was going through.

  He sensed the pain of childbirth and the pain that comes with the loss of a child. He felt the pain of a friend’s betrayal and the pain of betrayal of oneself. He felt the pain that came with the loss of hope. The pain that came with watching a loved one die too early. The loss of a limb to an IED. The betrayal of authority. Pain that pushed people to take their own lives. Pain that pushed people to take the lives of others. The pain of being kicked in the balls. The pain of being tortured for information you did not have. The pain of giving up information you had because you could not hold out against your torturers. The pain of being defiled against your own will.

  He winced at the thought of them all. He did not feel the pain, but he understood the idea of them all. It was a terrible thing. A painful thing.

  As he felt it all, he knew what the Oath of Pain had done to Madness. The Oath skill [Pain of The World] was a very nasty thing to inflict on a person. It ate away at a person as it channeled the pain of the world and that of the Oath of Pain into them. It was designed to last for a handful of moments, to fester away until unconsciousness.

  Madness had refused to give attention to levels of pain that demanded attention. So, it had festered, grown. Something designed to grow for a handful of seconds had festered for what could've been hours. It had become a monster of what it was supposed to be. And now Dorthna had forced Madness to experience it sane.

  To experience the level of pain that came from an entire world of sane people gave a whole new meaning to the term Dorthna had called the pain of sanity.

  With a single thought, Dorthna opened a crack in the spells he was weaving through the entire living room. The spells had locked away this section of the world from the rest of the world. Now, however, he allowed the pain to slip out into the world.

  It was only fair that the Oath of Pain feel the pain of the world, after all.

  But pain could kill, Dorthna knew this as well as anyone. So, he walked up to Madness and prepared himself for the final moment. The moment of silence.

  It would come, eventually.

  When it came, it was as deafening as the roar Madness had let out. The very absence of sound left the world feeling dead. But Dorthna was more interested in making sure that Madness and his wife had not slipped into the afterlife on his watch.

  With Aurora crumpled on the ground in the corner, Madness remained upright on his knees, arms hanging limp by his side. His eyes were white, their pupils rolled up into his head. The Oath was soaked in his own blood from head to toe.

  Dorthna placed a finger to his neck, felt his pulse. It was weak, but it was there. That was a good thing.

  Only now could he begin the process of healing Madness.

  Before he did, however, he took a peek at the notification that had appeared in front of the unconscious Oath, completely intended for the unconscious Oath.

  [New feat detected!]

  Dear Oath of Madness, you have taken upon yourself the pain of your very world multiplied by an unknown factor. For a considerable number of seconds, you have taken upon yourself the responsibilities akin to the Oath of Pain and lived. You have survived where most fail.

  [You have gained the title Echo of Pain]

  [Effect: Slight increase in physical stats for every instance of pain received from SS-ranks, Oaths or higher.]

  [Effect: +30% pain resistance when facing an opponent of lower rank.]

  [Effect: +15% pain resistance when facing opponents of SS-ranks, Oaths or higher ranks.]

  …

  [You have gained Oath skill The Pain of Sanity]

  You are insane, cursed with momentary bouts of sanity. The Oath grants the opponent momentary, complete awareness of their sanity.

  Dorthna resisted the urge to expand the new Oath skill. Taking his attention from Madness’ notifications, he looked the Oath in his unconscious eyes.

  “I guess something good came out of it,” he said. “You are shaping up to be a false Oath of Pain, aren’t you?”

  As impossible as it sounded to possess two Oaths, only the insane did the impossible. If anyone was going to do it, it might as well be the Oath in charge of that very insanity, wasn’t it?

  …

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Inevitability’s voice pierced the air like a whip.

  It made Pain groan as his full consciousness returned to him. He had a splitting headache, but he could at least string his thoughts and his words together now. Madness’ skill had finally been lifted from him.

  “What I mean,” Life’s voice came through the air like a gentle whisper, “is that I went to Madness’ room and found him in a terrible state. When I tried to help, I could not.”

  “You are telling me that you could not heal Madness?” Inevitability demanded.

  Pain opened his eyes finally and pushed himself to a sitting position in time to hear Life’s response.

  “I could not,” Life answered. “So, his wife took him away. I believe they have gone in search of a [Healer] that can.”

  Inevitability scoffed in annoyance. “You are Life, for God’s sake. If you can’t heal him, who can?”

  The old man shook his head. “There is no healer greater than me on this world. I am sorry. It is only a matter of time before your generation loses its strongest Oath.”

  Pain had triumphed over Madness in the end. It was what it sounded like to him. But while he had wanted to win, he had not wanted to kill the Oath.

  “I might be able to help,” he groaned, pushing himself off the bed.

  They were in a simple room with a large bed at the center. A brown couch long enough for three men to sit on rested on one side of the room. There was a reading table in the corner as well. But of all the things present, Pain was most aware of the fact that there were only three people in the room. Him, Inevitability and Life.

  The two other occupants turned to him at his words.

  “If what Life said about the apocalypse is true and Madness being our strongest Oath, we can’t afford to lose him,” he said, maintaining his balance as the world wobbled around him. “If we can get me to him, I’m sure I can reverse what I did to him as long as what I did to him is the problem.”

  Life gave him a flat look. “You don’t look like you are in any position to be helping anybody, Pain.”

  “Maybe not, but Madness needs help.” Pain shook his head, trying to dispel the headache he was experiencing. “We just need to get me to him on time and I can—”

  Pain’s brows furrowed as something shifted in the world. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but it was something in the pain.

  Had another portal just opened? A moment of thought told him that it was not the case.

  But he could feel new pain, a different kind of pain. It was—

  “Oh fuck.”

  It was all that was left to him as his knees gave out on him. Pain exploded within his very being far greater than he remembered pain ever being. He blamed it on his current state of weakness as his knees buckled under him and he dropped to them.

  Then he crumbled to the floor like a demolished building. His interface popped up in front of him, and he only got to see the first few words before the pain struck him in full force and his world went white.

  [New Feat Detected!]

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