“And if…” She wets her lips. “If we don’t accumulate those points?”
“Exit conditions are unmet,” he replies without pause. “Participants remain until termination.”
His words are matter of fact.
With the conversation taking a morbid turn, I belatedly realize the environment has changed again.
The roads are entirely paved. Structures arise from the ground, some in more ruinous stages, others still standing and fully functional. The latter are tall buildings, supported by massive columns with battle motifs carved into stone.
We pass one of the obelisks, its surface rippling faintly as though it were made of liquid stone. Names and numbers drift across it in constant motion, never settling long enough to be fully read.
The words are written in a foreign language, but for some reason I recognize it.
“Can you read those, too?” Moe asks quietly.
“You too?”
She nods. “I think the realm must be giving us the resources to integrate. Think about it. The wraith, now the language? Everything is tailored for full immersion.”
“You’re right. Which only makes it stranger.”
“Do you think the male from Utopiya has something to do with this?”
“I don’t know yet. Perhaps. He was following us right before we ended up here.”
The wraith stops in front of an obelisk and turns to us.
“Combat assignments are issued in red through obelisks,” he says. “Participants may challenge any opponent. Depending on the danger level, participants are rated low risk, medium risk and high risk. Higher-risk engagements yield increased point values.”
He turns our attention to the ever changing names in white on the obelisk. “Should you lose any battle, you willbe terminated and your name will appear here.” He pauses. “Termination results in soul extinction.”
The words hit me straight in the chest.
Moe stiffens. “Soul extinction?” she whispers.
“You mean our souls…”
“Will cease to exist, never to be incarnated again.”
I hold tighter onto Moe’s hand. She doesn’t seem to mind it. In fact, she nestles closer to my side, hugging my arm and nuzzling her cheek against me.
She’s scared. I can tell. And I feel like a goddamn fool for ever allowing her to follow me—for dragging her into this mess.
It’s useless to think of what-ifs now. We are in this situation, we must get out of it. And regardless how terrified I am of what the future holds, for her sake, I must be strong.
Or at least seem strong.
We walk on in silence. Buildings come and go into our field of vision—some grander than others; while some in semi-ruinous states but still habitable.
I’ve lost track of time: how long we’ve been here now or for how long we’ve been walking. All around, I see only contractions, but so far no traces of other individuals.
“Where is everyone else then?” I suddenly ask.
“They are here. You are unable to see them. They are unable to see you. During orientation, you are in limbo. That ends tomorrow.”
“I see,” I mutter. “Looking forward to it.”
“Me neither,” Moe whispers drily.
