I didn’t die. Doubt and disbelief enveloped me in a hazy miasma—a messy state of being that made no sense. I felt like my body was suspended in thought. None of this made any sense, and I was long past the questioning stage. Selene’s sweet abyss, if I wasn’t so stubborn, I’d been two phases past doubt, too.

  No, not stubbornness; that wasn’t the right word. It’d come to me. I knew it would. I just wasn’t sure when. Arrogance… pride? No, those couldn’t be it. The word danced at the tip—

  “Are you done with your meandering thoughts?” A familiar voice asked from beyond the veil. “Yes, I am dead. This is the memory fragment I left with you. Consider it my gift and curse. So, can we begin?” The flayen’s voice lacked something that I couldn’t quite place.

  “Begin what?” I pictured the flayen and prepared for another fight. So, I wasn’t past the stage of questioning. I blamed that on Squids, though.

  “Training,” Squids said. “And do not waste your time trying to fight me. I am truly dead.”

  “Then how can you train me?” I asked. How’re we even talking?” Like before, I pictured the flayen and pulled him into existence. Only it didn’t work. I tried again and again. More willpower. More energy. The same lackluster results.

  “We are not talking, per-se,” Squids said. “This conversation was all scripted. I got... comfortable in your mind, ran scenarios, and then left you an extensive library of information. Based on this line of conversation, my readings were correct.”

  “I feel violated.”

  “As do I.” The flayen’s words sounded empty. That was it. His voice lacked any emotion. “Humans are disgusting. I can not believe the things you do to each other.”

  “Again…”

  “Not human. I know, and I knew you were going to say that. So here we are. The gift of a god is at your disposal, and you are wasting time.”

  “I’d argue we were rushing into things, " I said. “What’s the point?”

  “To live,” the flayen said. “Allow me to help you escape death.”

  “Why help me? Why not someone else.”

  “My options were limited,” Squids said in his scripted voice.

  “And what do you get out of this?”

  “I am merely acting in good faith. If I help you now, maybe in a few years you can help my people or at the very least treat them kindly.”

  I wanted to question everything; more than that, I wanted to defy this parasite—to kick against the prick. Regardless, I held my tongue and wrestled with my thoughts. Could I live? Did I want to? Could I trust the flayen… even a little?

  What did I have to lose? Some pride, but I was hardly the proud type. People needed to be successful to be proud. I was middling at best, and that was because I was failing at well… failure. Despite my futile efforts, for the last few years, life had smiled kindly upon me. I had friends, a home, and my business. That was before all the murder in the woods. Now my friends were dead, and I couldn’t join them leaving me alone, stuck with my dilemma.

  I could go along with the schemes of a belittling or resist and continue to die on my faithless stake. I was tired of surviving. More than that, deep down, an unwelcome seed sprouted.

  “Alright, Tentacles, I’m open to some training,” I said, donning a patched mask of resolve.

  As my friend always said, ‘It’s best to wade into trenches head first.’ The saying served Moloki well, earning him power and prestige as he pushed headstrong through any barriers on his path. That was until Mol died head-down in a trench buried under the might of mana—as did the rest of my old squad.

  I dispelled my resurging. My resolve was already slipping. I hated death and how it messed with my thoughts. Death and squids were both on my disgruntled list.

  “-cellent,” Calamari said. The extra emphasis on the first syllable didn’t go unnoticed. “Now, stop resisting me with your mind. I am going to expand it.”

  “What?” Cal’s words didn’t sit right. “Wait… no.” My mask shattered.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “First, you need to relax,” the squid said in his low-guttural voice that had a small hint of eagerness. The hairs on the back of my neck raised at the thought of Squids grinning in ecstasy, anticipating access to my mind.

  “That’s not helping,” I said.

  “Get comfortable.” Cal’s voice was emotionless once more.

  “I can’t. I won’t.”

  “If you do not relax, I can not begin.”

  “That’s the point,” I said. “I don’t want you messing with my mind. Find another way.”

  “Take a deep breath and calm down.” The flayen’s speech wasn’t helping. ”This is all working precisely as I had planned it.”

  My breaths were short, shallow, and ragged. I wasn’t calm—I was anything but calm. As far as I was concerned, I’d never entertain the squid’s whims.

  I was no longer in an ethereal state of mind. Rather I was somewhat in a world of inbetween the physical and mental realm. Spiked on a stake but not quite present.

  I waited for what felt like ages for Squids to me in a less pervasive way. Passing days whittled my resistance. I found myself trapped in an empty state with no way out but to .

  I squirmed under the false pretense that I could find comfort. I couldn’t. It hurt. I sighed, which also hurt, and stopped trying to get comfortable. The lack of effort, or probably more so the lack of movement, allowed me to return to the painful contentment I was at before. I held back a sigh of relief and—

  “I meant your mind,” The flayen said. “Relax and ease your mind. Allow yourself to be open to new ideas. Stop putting up walls. Doubt, hesitation, fear… push them aside. You are safe. Your mind is safe.”

  “You need to stop talking.” We might be coffin brothers, but Squids pushed it too far. I didn’t feel safe.

  “I will guide you to enlightenment.” It felt like tentacles held my head, pulling it in a determined direction.

  “You’re making it worse.”

  “Fair enough,” Tentacles said after a pause. “You know what to do. I will be here waiting for you to consent to my power. Prepare your mind for the fulness of my glory.”

  Tentacles was cracked. I was absolutely sure of it. To think I was supposed to open myself up to him… all my reservations coated me in thick armor. There was no way I could relax now.

  ****

  It took a couple more deaths on my spike before I could put my mind at ease. No outcome could be worse than what I was already experiencing. I had to forget pike and parasite, dispelling all the fear and hesitation from my mind, and put my faith in a hopeful future.

  Watering seeds of hope was a perilous game. A game played by people who liked getting hurt and the brave. I was neither. However, I reigned in my fear and hesitation.

  Breathe in slowly. Exhale softly. In and out. I found comfort in my rhythmic breaths. It became my focus—a song to get lost to. In and out. The spike wasn’t so bad. I could get used to it. Slowly. Softly. I faded out of .

  ****

  I up in an empty space of soft white walls, ceiling, and floor. The light created no shadows nor reflected off any of the barren walls. No matter where I looked in the enclosed room, I couldn’t find the source of the light. Also not present in the empty room were pikes; beyond that, there was no death here. In fact, I couldn’t sense any mana, which was peculiar.

  Mana was always prevalent. Death, mana, and power—the trinity of what was and always would be. Yet, here in this room, all three were absent.

  Did I finally reach the abyss or was I suspended in my mind—trapped in thought?

  Regardless of where I was at, for the first time in what felt like years, I stretched without feeling excruciating pain. Even breathing was a euphoric experience. I was finally free from pain and torment. I let out a chuckle. The chuckle turned to laughter, laughter turned to weeping, and weeping ended with a soft smile.

  I took my time stretching, checking my body to ensure it still functioned. The simple exercise was an essential practice of body cultivation. More than that, it just felt good to move again. After I completed my stretches, I walked around the confined space and focused on my mind and spirit. Even though I couldn’t access any mana, my soul remained intact. More relief flooded through me. Water mana was still bound to my soul. If I could break free of this room…

  I grimaced at the thought. Could one even escape hell? Was this even hell? I didn’t feel like I was dead dead, but I certainly wasn’t on the spike… or was I? Tentacles had a way of messing with my thoughts. He called it a mindscape.

  I came to the conclusion that I was either dead or wasn’t. If I wasn’t dead, I might have another chance at life. I just needed to break out of this room. The sprouting seed of hope began to take root.

  Before I could nourish the seed, whispers of despair drowned it. Apathy—a hollow armor that once protected me—beckoned me to adorn it once more. It offered safety and comfort. I knew the whispers spoke the truth, and its peace enticed me. However, I wanted more than to live in an empty state. I didn’t want to just exist. I wanted to live.

  As the words settled in I found comfort in acceptance. There was power in letting the world be as it was. The struggle for more ceased to exist. In a way it was exalting.

  No. That could only ever be a hollow shell. I wanted more. If I could survive, maybe my friends could as well. Lana could live.

  I scoured the room lit by no light, like a man crawling through the desert searching for salvation. I searched every part of the room, high and low, looking for a way out. Hours passed. I found no solution. I called Tentacles several times and received no answer. If this was a puzzle, I failed to solve it. More time passed, and then the room collapsed.

  Confronted by harrowing pain, I gasped. Ao’s bloody damn pits. I was back on the pike. So it wasn’t the abyss. I sighed in relief.

  Then I died.

  When the cycle… no, Tenty called it a recursion. When the recursion began again, instead of gasping in pain from my spike, I found myself back in the prison of my mind. I died three more times. My walls remained apathetic.