Misunderstood Villain Heroines Mourn My Death Chapter 378
Let me be free[ … words ]
[ … words ]
Down below, so very, very, unfathomably far down, barely visible, were cathedrals half-submerged in clouds of red fog, millions of them, all built into the ridges of ribs the size of planets.
Every surface was covered in symbols, perhaps Old Tongue; he wasn’t sure.
Even his eyes couldn’t see that far.
Malik exhaled.
And then, without hesitation, he jumped.
He didn’t even take a moment to think.
He simply fell once more.
Down.
And down again.
Down this ten-million-mile-tall monument.
A monument that should have collapsed under its own weight.
Or rather, its own gravity, becoming a damned star.
The fact that it remained whole meant there was more at play.
It was only of course that there was; Malik didn’t expect anything else.
He fell and fell and fell and fell and fell, a comet in motion.
It was absolutely ridiculous that their planet was this big.
Actually, now that he thought about it, no…
It wasn’t.
He had long since stopped being on Fam Iblis.
Though it never followed the Laws, even in the earlier Layers, this was simply too insane.
Al-Fawra was a physical impossibility unlike any other.
A gate to a place outside the universe he knew.
Malik saw no other explanation for its stupid size.
Because yes, even after a few days of falling down and across it, going past its first ridge, he couldn’t yet see exactly what the monument was, only a sculpted wall of bone that stretched on into forever.
’…Is this a Divine Kingdom?’
Eventually, his thoughts started to wander pointlessly.
’Something that connects all Abysses?’
Strange.
’A doorway?’
Usually, he never allowed that.
’Was this made by God?’
Wasteful thoughts led to weakness.
’…What kind of God builds something like this?’
Weakness led to pain.
’Why would ’They?’
But at least ’pain’ was something.
’Why this monument?’
A feeling replacing his numbness.
’Why here?’
Still, he tried to stop his thoughts.
’…Breathe.’
And yet, he found himself unable.
’Don’t think.’
So he repeated these two words.
’Don’t think.’
This thought of not thinking.
’Don’t think.’
Until eventually, around ten or so days later, thanks to the speed and direction he was going at, something began to form.
’Don’t think.’
Malik was seeing more.
’Don’t think.’
His eyes narrowed.
’Don’t think.’
Below, so very far below, he saw a somewhat circular shape.
’Don’t think.’
It was a face.
’Don’t think.’
A man’s face.
’Don’t think.’
Carved right into the bone.
’Don’t think.’
Or perhaps he was a being made only of bone.
’Don’t think.’
Either way, it was bigger than anything he once thought possible.
’Don’t think.’
A face so big, it was the size of planets.
’Don’t think.’
It took him a few weeks, but he saw that it had a single eye.
’Don’t think.’
One wide, cyclopean socket that stared up… almost following him.
’Don’t think.’
Right, the gaze was not glassy or dead; it was alive… intent.
’Don’t think…’
Like it had waited centuries to see him fall.
’…Is it a Zahhak?’
Malik’s breath caught in his throat.
’Don’t think.’
There was no way he could face a Zahhak.
’Don’t think.’
Absolutely no damned way.
’Don’t think.’
Those beings bent reality on a whim.
’Don’t think.’
They were immortal-sized things.
’Don’t think.’
He could not take any of their Cursed Rank on.
’Don’t think.’
An impossible that was so very ’impossible,’ even for him.
’Don’t think.’
Malik tried to look away.
’Don’t think.’
He couldn’t.
’Don’t think.’
Far above that eye, on the man’s forehead, where his hair curled like hooks, he saw symbols.
’Don’t think.’
Old Tongue, most likely, a few letters that gave him dread.
’…Don’t think.’
Something in him trembled beneath those words.
’Don’t… think.’
They didn’t speak to his mind.
’Don’t…’
They whispered to his soul.
’…They’re… they’re burning my soul.’
It made him feel even more pain.
’But why?…’
It also made him feel something else.
’Why does it feel so familiar?’
He couldn’t understand it.
’Why do I feel—’
He couldn’t understand anything.
’—wanted?’
Malik blinked, pushing that thought away.
’No. Don’t think.’
The earlier cycle repeated.
’Don’t think.’
A thought was stated.
’Don’t think.’
Over and…
’Don’t think.’
Over and…
’Don’t think.’
Over.
’…Don’t think.’
He fell.
’Don’t…’
Days.
’Think.’
Weeks.
’Th… think.’
Months.
’Do… not.’
He fell.
’…’
Malik had moments of weakness.
’…This warmth.’
Moments where he thought.
’I forgot warmth.’
Moments of pain.
’Was I ever warm?’
Moments of home.
’Not since—’
But he always came back.
’No.’
He always grounded himself.
’Don’t think of them.’
His Will was unbroken.
’Don’t think of anything.’
…Or was it?
’Huh…’
Had he turned?
When had he turned?
Malik had been falling straight and away, but now…
His chest faced the monument.
His body was bent toward it.
’When did this happen?’
He asked again but was given no answer.
“Damn it.”
Cursing under his breath, he quickly angled himself away.
Right… he angled himself away.
He was safe from it.
He was safe from that face.
That beautiful face.
The one right there.
’Ah.’
He saw it again.
’No.’
Why?
’Not again.’
Why was he still facing it?
’I never looked away.’
He was fascinated by it.
’…It sees me.’
His limbs grew heavy, his mind losing control over them.
’Each inch was etched with care… devotion. Even the cracks feel deliberate. The lines in its brow… There are no flaws. It’s beautiful.’
He could barely remember how to breathe.
’Why do I feel calm? Why do I want to be closer?’
Was he still falling?
’The more I fall… the less I feel weight. The less I feel anything.’
Or being pulled?
’Except this pull.’
His heartbeat slowed.
’It doesn’t demand… it just patiently waits.’
His ribs pressed tighter.
’It’s comforting.’
His mouth hung open without sound.
’Its one eye is always open… always watching.’
He was losing his mind.
’What’s it looking for? Why does it feel like—’
His Will.
’—me?’
Some part of him tried to resist still.
’No.’
A part buried under planets.
’Don’t get close.’
A part unheard.
’Don’t get closer.’
A part that was crushed.
’…No.’
And then he heard it.
“CHILD OF AL-ASSAD…”
A voice.
“COME.”
It was soft, almost gentle, coming not from the air, but from inside his skull.
The monument made no sound, but the thought was not his own.
“LET GO.”
Malik’s jaw clenched.
“SHED YOUR SKIN.”
His ears bled.
“BE BORN ANEW.”
His nose bled.
“GIVE UP THE BURDEN.”
His eyes bled.
“JOIN ME.”
He was dying.
“BECOME BONE.”
“BECOME PURPOSE.”
Dying from words alone.
“BECOME MINE.”
His entire body began to tremble, and it wasn’t due to resistance or pain, no…
’I should let go.’
It was out of awe.
’Why…’
’Why do I even keep this flesh?’
’Muscle is weakness.’
’Blood is thirst.’
’Organs rot.’
’Skin tears.’
’Bones don’t weep.’
’Bones don’t regret.’
’Bones just are.’
His broken mind was being warped.
’What’s the point of holding on?’
’What if I just—’
He shuddered.
’What if I just let go?’
Malik looked at its accursed face.
’It says it’ll keep me warm…’
His own was full of longing.
’Safe… I’ll feel no more pain.’
Full of warmth.
’No more fire.’
He was happy.
’Let me rest.’
For the first time since Jasmine’s death, he…
’Let me be quiet.’
He finally smiled a normal smile.
’Let me be free.’
