Transmigrated to a Dark Fantasy World of SSS-Rank: King of the Void-Chapter 51: The Decision [2]

There were empty buckets near the door, which was locked. The ceramic floor was wet; a puddle beneath his body. Everything was cold, everything hurt. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was in the school pool showers—a place with locker rooms and simple showers along the walls.

There were two benches in the center, where he lay sprawled with his soaked uniform. The lights were off—it was already night—and darkness devoured the scene. Alone in that place, Mitsuki hugged himself and shut his eyes tightly.

’I won’t let you play with my mind. Your stupid game is nothing to the King of the Void.’

The shadow appeared behind him and spoke near his shoulder.

"This isn’t a game, Mitsuki. This is the one thing you’re not good at—real life."

He opened his eyes upon sensing its presence, but before he could turn around to face it with explosive anger, a powerful black wind engulfed the place, transporting him back to the realm of Holylight—to the capital’s castle. He covered his eyes with his forearm, stopping himself from knowing where he was.

"Shhh..." whispered the Ashen Master.

Horrified, Mitsuki lowered his arm—and there it was; the moment he had been brutally "killed" by the SSS-rank specter. The stone sword struck him with overwhelming force, shattering his body: bones cracked, blood splattered meters from the point of impact, his organs were destroyed, and his body was sent flying at an absurd speed.

By the time he hit the ground after crashing against the wall above the great doors of the throne room, he had become a grotesque crimson pulp, with broken and splintered bones protruding from the reddish flesh.

A groan of agony escaped him, followed by the single eye that stared at the monster that had attacked him.

Then, that shadow appeared.

"This is reality too."

Darkness clouded everything once more. The voices of Jeanne and Ellegaard echoed alongside the clashes of the sword and bursts of arcane magic. Ethereal beings—Banshees—flew from side to side, seeking to rip out their souls.

Unconsciously, Mitsuki looked at his hands, where he held his shotgun.

"This is..."

Too late to react, a Banshee attacked him, trying to tear out his soul.

Darkness swallowed him one last time. Then, the walls of the Moonlight Inn rose as if they had built themselves. The lights glowed dimly, revealing the wreckage of the tables—the place where he rested, defeated.

Ellegaard stood before him, displaying her dominance and the harsh reality of the boy who had come from another world. Her lips moved with cruel words, but her voice could not be heard. Even so, Mitsuki knew exactly what she was saying.

He closed his eyes and resigned himself with a faint smile. Hearing those words was like feeling knives stabbing straight into his shattered ego.

’I know, Ellegaard. You don’t have to say it anymore...’

That shadow, watching from the farthest corner of the inn, spoke in its monotone voice: "If you already know, why do you try so hard to deny it?" It walked through the place, crushing and corrupting the scene with the darkness that spread beneath its feet. "Why do you insist on ignoring reality?"

Mitsuki paused, then answered.

"You already know."

The shadow distorted, and darkness returned. Ethereal hands and tentacles wrapped around Mitsuki, submerging half his body into the black sludge. The shadow stood before him—crouched in front of him to speak up close, illuminated by the purple flames.

"I do. You’re weak; a pathetic man who hides in the darkness in front of a glowing screen. But you know something? You can change that. You just have to decide."

"Decide? What do I have to decide? Is there even anything I can do? Because it seems like I’m the weakest human in this world. It’s ridiculous to think I’m some prophesied catastrophe."

"I know, but you can change that..."

"I can’t change it," Mitsuki said, letting out a small laugh. "I already tried. I trained in magic and swung a wooden sword. I learned how to fire fireballs and water with the shotgun, but that was useless against the power of real people like Ellegaard."

"No... You can change that," the shadow repeated, fading into the darkness. Its immense eyes floated in the void.

"I can’t... I really can’t."

There was a long silence. Then, the shadow spoke again: "You can do it, Mitsuki... You just have to decide."

Confused—because the shadow had said the same thing three times—he opened his eyes, meeting those floating circles in the void. Suddenly, he no longer felt the hands and tentacles restraining him, so he pulled himself out of the sludge and stood on his own two feet.

The shadow whispered.

"You can change. You simply have to make your decision."

When the shadow said those words, violet-colored electric sparks flickered before Mitsuki. Dark hands emerged from the black sludge, joining together and forming a great shadowy throne. Columns of black sludge rose around him, and purple flames ignited at the sides like lamps atop shadowy hands that also joined together to form ancient medieval lanterns.

Mitsuki walked toward the throne. He felt an irresistible urge to sit there, but he looked at the eyes in the void.

"What kind of decision do I have to make? What are the consequences of my future choices? I..." He lowered his gaze, hesitating. "How can I change what I am right now? Because I really don’t feel like I can."

The shadow said nothing, but Mitsuki could sense that it wanted him to sit on the throne to find out. He truly hesitated; he stood there thinking for a long time.

’What’s going to happen? Why do I have to do all this? I don’t understand anything at all. And the more I think about it, everything that shadow showed me comes back to me—my memories, everything I am, somehow it feels like it’s merging with this place. I can feel it in my chest; like everything I once had to witness is fusing with that throne. Even though it feels like a trap, deep down I feel intensely drawn to the possibility. It’s like it’s calling me to fulfill my destiny.’

When he took a step closer, the flames intensified, revealing an endless field of black columns formed by hands that stretched toward the visible horizon. Mitsuki took it in, but focused on the throne. He climbed the three steps formed by the sludge, then took a breath, preparing himself.

Finally, he sat down, adjusting his coat behind him. The flames then flared wildly, as if excited, and the ethereal sparks from before were reborn as a purple, multi-colored ethereal window.

’The system...’

Words appeared one after another with a mysterious, ghostly glitch.

[ Make your decision, Mitsuki. ]

[ Accept being the Herald of the Unnameable. ] [ Return to reality and remain a loser. ]