Chapter Ninety-Eight: The Question

  He felt a question tugging at the edges of his mind, just out of reach.

  A flicker—a spark of something deeper, a resistance that refused to bow to the darkness. Something about Henry’s words felt wrong, deeply, fundamentally twisted. Jace’s mind reeled, grappling with the notion. Intellectually, he understood the argument. He had lived it. He had heard all the justifications. But still...

  Deep down, something resonated and shifted within him. It was small at first, barely noticeable.

  Jace’s heart drummed in his chest, the question rising within him. The one that had always been there, lurking just out of reach. It was a question he had never allowed himself to ask, a question too raw, too immense, too terrifying.

  The tiny spark inside him swelled, feeding on itself until it became a roaring fire, fierce and uncontainable, threatening to consume him whole.

  He opened his eyes, his vision clearing, and he allowed himself to ask it—to let the words form, to bring them into the world, and dare to find the truth.

  “Is this place... this world... this life... really real?” he whispered, the words leaving his lips like a prayer, barely louder than a breath.

  The world stilled. Time itself seemed to hold its breath. Even Henry’s twisted form was frozen, the shadows pausing their ceaseless writhing. The silence pressed against Jace, heavy and infinite. For a moment, it felt as though everything had come to an end—an end that carried within it a kind of desperate hope.

  And then, the gentlest of voices answered, a whisper that brushed against his ear like the warmth of a lover’s breath, the softest affirmation he had ever heard.

  Yes.

  The word echoed through him, reverberating through every inch of his being. It surged through his heart, his mind, his very soul, pushing aside all doubt, banishing the cold shadow that had threatened to consume him. He didn’t understand how he knew, couldn’t articulate it if someone asked—but he knew. He felt it in his bones, in his very essence.

  Life had always been a game, after all—a game that wasn’t always enjoyable, often harsh, but undeniably real in its impact. An illusion, yes, but one everyone believed in deeply enough that it became the truth. And that belief made it real. People lived here. Children were born, love was shared, and pain was felt. There was meaning here that went far beyond the lines of code that constructed it. It wasn’t just pixels and scripts; it was a living, breathing world shaped by every joy, every tear, and every choice made within it.

  Theon had said once there were three realities: the physical, the mental, and the soul. And in that moment, Jace understood what he had meant. This world—this place—it was not an illusion crafted in code. It was real. As real as the earth he had left behind, as real as the breath in his lungs, the beat of his heart. As real as love or hope.

  A warmth enveloped him, light surging outward from within, his eyes burning with an inner radiance. And the world around him seemed to strip open, peeled back to reveal the raw, unfiltered truth of existence. Jace saw it then—the absolute truth of the universe.

  This place was real—not in the simple, material way he had once thought of reality, but real in its very essence. This world wasn’t built of code, wasn’t shaped by data. It was made of stardust and souls, of the infinite potential of creation. It was breath, it was life, it was aether and spirit, bound together in a tapestry of the possible and the impossible.

  In that moment, Jace understood something fundamental, something that lay beyond the reach of mere logic or reason. This place was an illusion, yes, but not any more of an illusion than Earth itself. Everything was an illusion—every world, every life, a construct of experience and perception. But in that very illusion, there lay truth—beauty, meaning.

  Jace knew—he knew—that this place was more than just numbers, more than a simple string of ones and zeroes. He could feel it, a truth that went beyond his comprehension.

  The illusion of this world, just like the illusion of Earth, was real because it mattered. It held weight because the people within it believed it mattered. Because they lived it, with all the joy and suffering, love and loss that came with it.

  The reality of existence was not about the atoms or code that composed it—it was about the experience, the spirit that animated it. It was real because it was. And that was enough.

  And in that moment, somehow, Terra Mythica felt more like home than Earth ever had.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But Jace knew now, without a shred of doubt. This was not a game, and he would not allow Henry to break it. Not for his own bitterness, not for his rage.

  He opened his eyes, his soul surging with power, and he stood, pushing back with every ounce of strength he had. “You’re wrong,” Jace said, his voice carrying across the darkness, unwavering, filled with a conviction that seemed to shake the very air. “I can’t explain it, but I know you’re wrong. This world isn’t what you think it is. What you’re doing is madness. This isn’t what Osira would have wanted.”

  Henry’s face contorted with fury, shadows writhing around him, his voice rising in a storm. “Do not speak her name!” he roared, the room darkening, the shadows surging. “You know nothing, Jace! You understand nothing!”

  The darkness closed in, but Jace stood his ground. The power that rose within him was not born of anger or fear. It was born of truth—a truth that burned brighter than the shadows that sought to swallow him.

  And in that truth, Jace pushed. He pushed back against the despair, against the force of Henry’s will, and he felt it—the shift, the breaking point. The Dark One’s grip slipped, his presence loosening.

  With a final surge of his will, Jace expelled the darkness, flinging Henry out from his mind, the shadows unraveling, dissipating like smoke in the wind.

  And when he opened his eyes, he was free—free to stand, to fight, to reclaim the world that was his, the world that was real.

  Jace let that warmth spread through him, let it grow until it became an unstoppable blaze—a light that radiated outward, pushing against every whisper of doubt, every tendril of fear. The darkness recoiled, retreating from the firestorm that now filled him. It was as if the boundaries around him had shattered, releasing a power he had always held but had never fully claimed. The presence in his mind—a towering, looming specter—began to waver, its form losing coherence.

  “You think you’ve trapped me,” Jace said, his voice steady and fierce, cutting through the dark void, “by pulling me this far into your soul. But it is you who has taken the risk. Because now... I see you.” His eyes blazed as he spoke, a fierce determination settling over him like a mantle.

  Jace activated Soul Sense again, moving further into the mind of the Heart of Darkness.

  “What... what is this?!” The creature’s voice screamed, echoing within the depths of Jace’s mind—a voice filled with rage, confusion, and something else, something Jace had not heard in it before: fear.

  The darkness trembled, quaking under the force of the light Jace unleashed within himself. He felt the beast recoiling, its hold slipping, its shadowy form unraveling like smoke caught in a storm. The power to fight back, to resist, had been within him all along, waiting for this very moment.

  And then, Jace saw it—an understanding that cut deeper than the dark. The Dark One was fueling all of these demons, each twisted creature bound by items—artifacts that were mere conduits, allowing them passage into this realm. And those artifacts, those dark objects, they were all linked back to one central point. Jace could see it now, the shadowy connection behind every demon, the source feeding them their dark strength. The Dark One was using his own version of Soul—a dark, warped energy—to create pathways, anchoring his influence to them.

  Jace latched onto that revelation, the perception of the Dark One’s essence behind each demon. He felt it, a twisted version of something he understood, something he too wielded.

  Jace focused, harmonizing his understanding of Soul with that of the Dark One’s essence. He let his light entwine with the dark energy, a dance of opposites coming together in a moment of raw clarity. He could feel the Dark One’s confusion, its attempts to twist away from the connection—but it was too late.

  A surge of silver light burst through Jace, an energy so pure it pierced the shadows like a blade. He felt it—something beyond soul, something fundamental. A Word, ancient and powerful. “Truth.”

  The word echoed in his mind, resonating deep within him. Silver light exploded outward, merging with his Soul energy, a radiant force that burned with a clarity he had never known. He wielded it, focusing all his strength on the connection between the Dark One and every possessed artifact, every dark tether within a mile of him.

  He combined “Truth” with “Soul,” augmenting his Soul Severance, aiming at the bindings linked to and powered by the Dark One. The silver light surged forward, a wave of pure severance, unraveling the dark pathways that had held so much power. Jace felt the threads snap, one by one, the force of it reverberating through him. The Dark One’s influence shattered, his connection to the demons breaking like brittle glass under the power of Jace’s newfound Word.

  The darkness recoiled, its shrieks echoing through the void as its grip began to crumble, unraveling under the silver light. And there, for the first time, Jace saw it—the fear in the Dark One’s eyes. A fear born not of rage, but of vulnerability, the kind that twisted deep, realizing its own weakness. It was a flicker of something Jace had never thought possible, a crack in the towering facade of shadows.

  And Jace knew, in that moment, that he held the power to fight back. Not just for himself, but for everyone who had been bound, everyone who had been chained and suffocated by the darkness.

  He cast Soul Tether, the ability manifesting with eerie ease, as if it was meant for this precise moment. Being this deep within the Dark One’s mind made the connection click into place seamlessly. The Dark One had been too prideful, dragging Jace too far inside, lowering his defenses to a dangerous level, and now it was too late.

  The tether latched, locking into the essence of the Dark One. In that instant, Jace felt the surge—a swell of energy so overwhelming, it threatened to consume him. Power beyond anything he’d ever touched, a flood that coursed through every fiber of his being. It was too much, an intensity that nearly tore him apart from the inside, a force too vast for him to contain. He had to release it or risk being devoured by the torrent.

  The energy coursed through him, igniting him from within—a blaze of fire and light that illuminated every corner of his mind, his spirit, his very soul. It burst from him like a star going supernova, flooding outwards, silver flames cascading from his body, as he let go of the impossible force.

  Jace felt the power escape, radiant and consuming, like lightning unleashed from a storm that had been brewing for centuries. It lit him up, turning him into a beacon of raw, unrestrained light. He felt the connection to the Dark One fracture, felt the darkness recoil again, unable to withstand the blaze of truth and soul. It was like watching shadows burn, dissolving in the face of something far brighter, something real.