Prince of The Abyss-Chapter 192: Denial(18)

"What am I?" The figure gripped its blade tighter.

"An... Angel- Fallen from- Hell."

Its voice... it was distorted, glitching, almost as if the world didn’t have him to hear it. A weird feeling washed over him; he was... scared.

He had never been scared so easily, so what was so special about this being to make him so frightened after meeting him?

Also, Angel Fallen from Hell? How did that even make sense? Wouldn’t it be an Angel Fallen from heaven? Where did you even go after falling from hell? Was that even possible?

Was... this guy the Demon of Dread... it would make some sense, after all, the whole demon thing. And also they note refered him as an angel by twisting his name, or maybe rather Demon of Dread is twisted from the original name, and he was an angel, just like here.

So if this was right, then the Demon of Dread was actually an Angel that had somehow fallen from hell.

But... it didn’t make sense. Why would he be here? Was it because he had cheated the trial, and he had come to kill him, since once you enter alive, you aren’t able to leave with your will intact, but he had done just that. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Or maybe... he had proven himself? Was the Demon of Dread impressed with him and wanted to grant him his second life? If this were the case, then he was welcome to do so.

Aether smirked, cocky that he had been able to figure out the identity of such a mysterious being.

"You know, I didn’t think the Demon of Dread was actually going to be an angel. But I must have just overthought it... you dont look like on,e though."

The being didn’t respond instantly, instead it looked at him examing him. He was probably just suprised on how he had figured out who he was, or maybe even confused.

...

"W-ho-?"

Aether looked in its eyes, trying to see if it really didn’t know about that title. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t being tricked into believing otherwise, and this was really the Demon of Dread. And maybe this was the final test.

But no, he didn’t see any hint of lying, neither from how its body reacted. This being... was really not the Demon of Dread.

"Then..." Aether frowned. "Who are you, and don’t give me another answer as you did before, I want answers, not more questions!"

"Tha-t is s-omethin-g I can-not do."

Aether clenched his fists. Of course, it couldn’t; no one could answer his question, why? Who could be stopping all of them from answering? He didn’t think it would be the Abyss, but if it wasn’t him, then from whom were they taking answers to shut up? Who was trying to keep the history of the Abyss a secret

And why? For what reason to go to this level of security? Was it because he was the Abyss’s Vessel, or was there a reason they didn’t want him to learn it because of his title?

But why? Would something happened if he did?

Aether gritted his teeth as he shook his head.

"Why are you here then?"

Suddenly, behind the being, the white that covered the room started to break, shadows bursting out, not darkness, but Lost, hundreds of black shadows entered the room spiriting at the being, biting into its arms and legs.

"My rea-son?"

...

"I do-n’t have on-e..."

It slowly started to disappear in the sea of shadows covering it.

"W-e shall me-et again, Aether... once y-ou learn to sprea-d the truth."

...

...

Aether opened his eyes, finding himself falling. He patted his body, feeling that the Abyssal matter was there; the partial control had started, as nothing had happened.

"You brat! Why did you suddenly fall asleep on me?... Just find a way to survive, we don’t have much time!"

Aether looked down, seeing how close he was to hitting the ground, he felt his heart stop for a moment, before starting again and going on overdrive, beating out of his chest.

’Calm down, think rationally, you’ve used this power with Lilith, what from before can help me survive?’

His eyes moved around like crazy, taking everything in. Not leaving any posibility got to waste. Creating tens of scenarios in his head. Yet all led to his death.

If he tried to catch himself with the Abyssal matter, since it was a liquid, even if it was thicker than water, it wouldn’t be enough to keep him from dying.

He also couldn’t see more of the thing his hair had gotten stuck in last time, so that was also out of the question.

There were also no buildings nearby, so he couldn’t use them to catch himself, maybe attaching Abyssal Matter to a chimney or something.

’Damn it.’ He panicked, searching for more solutions, but he couldn’t find any. He even asked himself if there was one. Was there really a way to survive this, or was he really going to die?

...

But then an idea came to his mind... as he remembered the being from before.

...

Suddently Abyssal matter burst from his back in two directions; they spread around in the air, getting bigger, and shaping themselves into wings. Abyssal matter was a substance without a form, one that had forgotten what it was supposed to do. So he thought that maybe he could shape it into whatever he wanted, in this situation, wings. And it had worked.

Yet as he started to slap his wings, he realized they weren’t exactly working; it was more as if he was a small bird, learning to fly, rather than an eagle or another bird, he had never even heard about an eagle, actually. What was it?

If he had to guess why they weren’t working, it would be because rigidity is critical.

If the wings flap, droop, or ripple uncontrollably, they stop generating lift. Birds have bones; planes have frames. A purely floppy substance wouldn’t cut it unless it can stiffen when needed.

That was why he was still falling without lifting himself in the air. He needed to find a way to get the rigidity.

And since it worked making wings, he was just going to make bones.

Aether felt as strong bones appeared on his back, spreading inside his wing slowly. He had to say it was tiring, like he was a child playing with toys.

And while creating bones will help, to actually work, he had to spread them wide and keep them that way, but it was hard for him to do that. He didn’t have the best control over Abyssal Matter; he wasn’t the Abyss. He was a Reader, even in partial control, but it was hard to use it.

But he just had to try. So he spread them, trying his best to hold their shape, as the bones finally finished.

And he actually felt himself start to slow down... just that he didn’t think he was using them right. He was, moreover, using a parachute, not wings. But I mean, it wasn’t like he knew how to actually fly. So it was better this way.

The question was whether he was going to slow down enough to survive the fall. He was close to the ground, so it was impossible for him to fully stop. But what was possible was, as he said, slowing down enough to survive.

Even if it hurt like hell, what mattered was surviving.

Aether took a deep breath as he saw that he was getting very close to the ground, and he had yet to slow down that much.

He felt his breath stop inside his throat. He wondered if this was enough, or if he was really going to die after all this time trying to find a way to get down.

’Well its not like I can do anything now...’

Aether closed his eyes and tensed his muscles, bracing himself for when he hit the ground.

...

The moment his body hit the ground, he felt a terrible pain go through his body. As all the bones in his body had broken completely, maybe he had even hit some of his organs. The pain was so terrible that he wasn’t even conscious.

...

...

He felt as if he was floating in the sea, in a dark sea full of monsters, slowly falling deeper and deeper. He wondered where he was. And what was that light at the surface? And why was he so captivated by it? Why did he want to chase it?

Aether stared a little longer before swimming over to it.

...Wait, but he didn’t even know how to swim, so how was he even doing it?

The light got closer and closer, until it enveloped his whole world.

...

...

He burst up, clenching his chest in pain, panicking. Was he dead? Had the fall killed him?

Looking around, he saw that he was standing in a bed, one he recognized to be from the Inn.

And there was only one possible answer for how he was here.

’I... I survived!’