The blacksmith guffawed, his form trembling from pure excitement. “You’re much better than I thought. I wasn’t certain you’d be able to sense them too,” he said, regaining composure. “Not that I expect you to know, but I’m curious—have you developed some form of clairvoyance?” he beamed, voice brimming with curiosity. “Humor me. Do you know where this is?”

  Scott didn’t respond immediately. His gaze shifted between the blacksmith, the opened case displaying divine ores, and the egos drifting aimlessly.

  I don’t know what answer he’s expecting, but if I had to guess... this place might be some kind of treasury, Scott mused. Or maybe a prison? No...

  He quickly dismissed the thought.

  He had seen the blacksmith’s true form. He couldn’t imagine any being capable of suppressing, much less imprisoning, a force like that. Then—another thought took root.

  Could it be the gods?

  “You’re overthinking things,” the blacksmith said casually, cutting through Scott’s thoughts.

  Scott frowned. Did he read my mind?

  “It wasn’t meant to be philosophical, and it’s not some sort of test either,” the blacksmith added. “So, any guesses?”

  Scott exhaled. “If I had to guess, I’d say… some kind of hidden armory or vault.”

  The blacksmith chuckled. “I figured you’d say workshop or even prison.”

  Scott raised a brow. “Well? Is it?”

  “I can assure you it’s definitely not a prison,” the blacksmith grinned. “And if it were, I’m certainly not the prisoner.”

  Scott fell silent. Aside from the blacksmith, he and the egos were the only other entities here. And if this was a prison, and the blacksmith wasn’t the inmate… well, there weren’t many possibilities left.

  The blacksmith continued. “Have you heard of the Chaos Vault?”

  Scott didn’t answer at once. Why does that sound familiar... Then—realization dawned.

  Wait—that’s the reward from the Ranking Games, he recalled. He instinctively tried to summon the golden ticket he’d received back then—but nothing happened.

  If the Chaos Vault is open… how long did I spend confronting my madness? Scott forced the thought aside. It had to be done. No regrets.

  Just then, the blacksmith’s chuckles reached him. “It seems like you do know.”

  Scott turned to him—and noticed a golden ticket now rested in the blacksmith’s hand, though he hadn’t seen it appear.

  If this is really the Chaos Vault… then the others must be somewhere here too, Scott mused. A faint smile formed—but quickly vanished.

  I can sense the presence of other people… but they’re not in the same layer of this space. So where—

  Scott refocused on the blacksmith. “If this is the Chaos Vault… where exactly are the other entrants?”

  The blacksmith casually pointed toward the misty ground. “Beneath us, as they rightfully should be.”

  Scott followed the gesture, narrowing his gaze. So it’s layered. Would the others be able to climb to this level eventually?

  He couldn’t help asking, “Will anyone else be able to reach this space?”

  The blacksmith shook his head.

  Scott let out a soft sigh, then chuckled. “I never imagined I’d end up here, of all places…” he trailed off—then a stray thought crossed his mind. His eyes sharpened.

  “Was an avatar sent to participate in my stead?”

  “Yes,” the blacksmith said without hesitation. “You haven’t crossed the Point of No Return yet, but you are in a place you can’t leave. Since you hold a ticket, an avatar was naturally deployed.”

  A smirk curled Scott’s lips. If an avatar was created for me… then I should be able to find and corrupt it. That way, I could tell the others what’s going on.

  “I don’t like that mischievous look in your eyes,” the blacksmith muttered. “If I had to guess, you’re planning to interfere with your avatar.”

  Scott said nothing.

  “You’re free to try,” the blacksmith said, voice more serious now. “But I assure you—it’ll be pointless, even if you manage to locate it.”

  He turned toward the anvil.

  “And while I said this place isn’t a prison,” he added, lifting his hammer, “I was only referring to myself.”

  His gaze lingered on the glowing ore, and then—

  Clank.

  Clank.

  Clank.

  The echoes filled the space, drowning out all else.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Scott stared at the blacksmith. A wry smile curved his lips. I knew it… a prison, huh?

  He turned his attention away from the blacksmith, focusing on the carefree egos. Well, I guess it’s time I got acquainted with my fellow inmates.

  Scott moved without speaking. His steps were light and controlled, neither making a sound nor interacting with the swirling mist.

  Now that I can see them... I’m not sure how I’m supposed to know what abilities these egos have. And it doesn’t look like the system’s going to reveal itself in this place, Scott mused, though his steps never slowed.

  Though concerns weighed on him, he continued forward with quiet confidence. He set his sights on an ego resembling a massive war drum—the closest one to him. It swirled around other egos as if mocking or taunting them.

  “You have no idea who you’re messing with. How dare you compare me to that?”

  Scott froze. A juvenile yet clear voice rang out. Even more startling, the inanimate form of the ego began to crack and crumble. Moments later, spirits hovered where the drum had been.

  Why do they all look human now? Scott frowned.

  Even the previously shadowy egos now bore distinctly human-like projections.

  He knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Though he couldn’t explain how, he was certain that something—or someone—had changed the way he perceived them.

  He glanced toward the blacksmith, but he was fully absorbed in his work, hammering away at his anvil.

  Could it be him? Scott wondered, turning back toward the egos.

  The war drum now appeared as an adolescent boy, no older than twelve. A shimmering silver luster coated his entire form.

  Scott scanned the rest of the egos, his brow furrowing. Not all of them shone the same way. Some shimmered in deep purple. Some glowed with gold, others in turquoise, citrine, crimson, and a few in radiant, blackened gold. But some didn’t shine at all.

  What are those colors supposed to mean?

  No answers came. He had theories, sure, but nothing he was willing to lean on just yet.

  “Have you started seeing colors?” the blacksmith’s voice drifted over like a whisper.

  Scott snapped his gaze toward him.

  “Your reaction tells me all I need to know,” the blacksmith added, still hammering, never even glancing in Scott’s direction.

  “You have no affinity with the ones that don’t glow,” the blacksmith continued. “You’d do best not to waste your time with them. As for the others—from least to greatest: silver, purple, turquoise, citrine, crimson, gold and its darker variant, then obsidian. Those are the egos you have an affinity for. They may be open to working with you.”

  “Of course, you could try subduing the others by force, but…” His words trailed off meaningfully.

  Scott understood the implication. I have no desire to waste time. Even if I can subdue them, I don’t want to constantly force them to behave.

  Armed with the new information, Scott resumed his approach.

  Most of the silver egos appeared juvenile. Those of the next two tiers—purple and turquoise—looked slightly older. The citrine and crimson ones, however, had the bearing of young adults.

  The biggest shift came with the golden and blackened gold egos. They looked middle-aged in human terms, though still in the prime of their lives. Scott spotted fewer than a dozen among the masses, and they kept themselves isolated.

  Naturally, the younger egos were the most numerous. They darted across the misty space at frightening speed, caught in the euphoria of their childish games.

  So those fast-moving shadows from earlier were just kids…

  Realization dawned as Scott continued searching. But I don’t see any egos bathed in obsidian…

  He’d already identified several exuding the blackened gold glow—the second highest tier he apparently had affinity with—but not the obsidian ones, which supposedly shared the strongest connection with him.

  “Is it me, or is that person walking toward us?” a pudgy ego with no glow pointed at Scott.

  Scott heard the voice but didn’t react. The others all turned to look.

  “Him?” a girl with twin tails asked.

  “Who else? He’s the only one walking over here,” another replied.

  “Shut up, I knew that,” the girl shot back. “He’s probably just wandering around lost in the mist. Bet he still sees us as shadows,” she giggled.

  “Ignore him,” another chimed in—a boy with a smooth bald head. “I was just telling you guys about the adventure me and my previous owner had in the upper—”

  “That story again?” someone groaned. “I’d rather listen to those annoying screams than hear it again.”

  “Excuse me,” Scott interrupted, stopping in front of them.

  They all froze. Eyes wide with shock.

  “Wait… did he just talk to us?” the girl with twin tails asked, dazed.

  The boy next to her shook his head vigorously. “That’s not possible,” he said. “It can’t be.”

  “B-But we’re the only ones here…” another ego replied, voice quivering.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. Let’s go,” someone muttered.

  They all nodded in unspoken agreement and floated away in a hurry. But barely a few seconds passed before they realized one of them had stayed behind.

  “What are you doing?” the girl called out, alarmed.

  The ego who hadn’t moved shuddered. “I—I don’t know why… but I can’t.”

  Their gazes slowly returned to Scott, just as his voice reached them again. “I have a question for you.”

  Screams echoed through the mist as the other egos fled in panic, leaving their companion behind. Scott watched them go, a dry smile tugging at his lips.

  Am I really that scary? He looked at the lone child who remained. He’s the only one I had affinity with… Is that why he couldn’t move?

  As his thoughts drifted, a shaky voice cut through. “Please… don’t destroy me.”

  Scott blinked, startled from his musing. Tears had welled in the boy’s eyes.

  Does he really think I’m some kind of monster? Why would I even want to destroy him?

  Scott exhaled slowly, forcing a gentle smile onto his face.

  But the ego only shrieked and fell to his knees, trembling. “Please, please… I beg you—I don’t want to be destroyed…” he sobbed, tears and snot flowing freely.

  What the hell? I only smiled! I haven’t even said anything yet! Scott threw a glance at the blacksmith, but he remained focused on his anvil, seemingly oblivious to the chaos.

  “I’m not going to destroy you, okay? Please stop crying,” Scott said softly.

  The boy wailed even louder.

  “Seriously. I’m. Not. Going. To. Destroy. You.” Scott tried again, flashing the most sincere smile he could manage.

  Yet the moment their eyes met, the ego’s cries intensified. His voice cracked as he begged with increasing desperation.

  What sort of situation is this? This reminds me of my encounter with those damn Gruffpaws…

  Scott’s eyes wandered through the mist. From an outsider’s perspective, this scene must’ve looked ridiculous.

  “Please stop crying. I really, really am not going to destroy you,” he said again.

  “But, but…” the boy hiccupped, still sobbing.

  “But what?” Scott asked, crouching slightly.

  “They’re all looking at me… There’s too many to count… I’m scared,” the ego whispered.

  Scott’s eyes widened. Wait. Does that mean he can see them? Understanding hit him. If Scott could see the egos as human-like figures… then maybe they could see him as something else too. And judging by the terror in the child’s eyes—he hadn’t just seen a version of Scott.

  He had glimpsed everything.

  The void. The madness. The worlds devoured and forsaken.

  This is going to be… difficult to explain.

  “Stay away from him!”

  A sharp roar cut through the haze. Scott straightened. Oh? This should be more interesting…

  The children had returned—and this time, they weren’t alone.

  Adults floated behind them, all emanating different auras. Among them, a woman radiated with intense crimson light.

  Scott’s eyes lingered on her. She was the one who had shouted, and the only he had affinity with.

  Still smiling, he stepped forward, positioning himself between her and the trembling child.

  “Hello,” he said calmly. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. I hope you don’t mind.”