Chương 126: Dissonant Whispers

Quash clawed at his face; it felt tight, like his face was wrapped in something. His thoughts felt doubled; he felt old and big, and young and small. Gravity felt… different; he felt lighter to the point of floating away. His eyes hurt… why did he have eyes? When did he have eyes? His flesh writhed… When did he have flesh? His hand trembled with glee! Pain felt so… authentic! So… real! He wrung his arms out to scream out in joy for the blessings of flesh, but nothing came out.

He felt confused; what kind of flesh prison of his had no voice? He slammed his hands against his body and plunged his fingers into his body and extended them within. He caressed his organs and paused with a dour expression.

'Oh… I remember who I am now; I'm not the dragon Quash… I'm June.' June's mind felt shielded, altered, bettered? His mind burned not in rage, but in visceral disgust. Having something else jumble his thoughts felt vile enough for a familiar emotion to boil up from within. A Putrid Sadism…. SPITE As sensations from his memories of Quash lingered within his mind, he remembered something Quash did for flavor, a battle cry, one that stripped his entire head of thought and filled his enemies with dread.

'Is that what I was trying?' He recalled the natural anatomy of his body; he felt off; he was not even a quarter of Quash's mass, and in his remembered sensations, it seemed that Quash's mass was amorphous; even then, June reached deep within and remembered the shape of a vocal cord, and sagged his throat to accommodate them.

Even with imitated vocal cords, his entire body wasn't matched to Quash's; the sound would come out distorted and deformed from its original glory, but in the moment, a battle cry seemed to be the only thing to actually snap him out of his half-state of consciousness. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. With a little bit of Will, June would be able to create a semi-authentic recreation by vibrating the air manually as he usually did when speaking.

June rubbed his eyes; he was beginning to fall asleep in Lilia's room.

"Could you pause the recording for a sec?" The chilling temperature of her Dreamer aura was the type that made him drowsy. He found it surprising that he was still able to recall his thoughts during the final fight; even now, some of Quash's dragon knowledge stayed with him. Apart from sensations, his actual memories from Quash were fading blips that he was forgetting; he couldn't help but feel that the memories fading at the speed they were was the Voice's doing.

June glanced to the side and looked at Lilia; she looked a little upset. He didn't understand why his woolen heart felt like it was being grated as much as it was by her soft expression, but he felt like if he didn't do anything, he would continue feeling a fate worse than his last death.

'I probably should have watched this on my own. I don't think I would have a pleasant time either if I had to watch her fight some idiot to the death.' June looked around and gestured at the neatly folded blankets at the foot of the bed before Lilia softly nodded for approval; her soft expression of being upset, saddened a little more.

He quickly grabbed the blanket without grace after clocking why her expression saddened; he swiftly found the correct side of the blanket, shuffled back beside her, and tossed the blanket over her and his legs. Lilia's face went a little red, but to June, the crisis had been averted.

'She probably thought she was making me uncomfortable with her cold Dreamer aura.' He took extra time making sure she was comfortable before quietly speaking once more.

"Could you fast forward again? To when we start fighting?" June remembered the exchange feeling like it lasted forever, but according to the remaining time in the recording, his fight lasted a little over two minutes.

'I hope it looked cool at least?'

Before June could even evaluate his position on the battlefield, he found himself bringing his fists down on the immovable hand that held him up. Oni had closed the distance in an instant; even in the recording, the monster seemingly teleported to June within a single frame. During his fight, the imagery of a child poking a novel bug with a stick popped into his mind, and he was by no means the child.

His past fights were won through luck and power; most threats to him could do very little to even harm him, not to mention survive his attacks. He continued to whale on the unmoving fist, then threw his legs up to wrap around the arm in an attempt to escape, or at least injure his opponent, but even then the arm didn't budge. Gears in June's mind ground; the outcome of the fight was already clear to him; his loss was evident; it was already a miracle that he survived several fights against IMPs.

Oni, on the other hand, was no IMP; he was a Noble-class Nightmare, two ranks above what June barely survived against. The battle was pointless, win or loss; he already surpassed what the preliminaries were searching for. There was no meaningful reward for winning, and no meaningful punishment for losing. June was by no means an honor-bound fool; fame and riches weren't things he pursued.

However, June felt a bitter taste would form in his mouth if he didn't give it a college try; the Voice did say that it would adjust the power damper on the pod. The gears turned for a few more seconds, and he shortly came to a conclusion of what he wanted to do. While the simulation may not be reality, his current situation was both a good time and place to test some of his limits. A fight without consequence or reward was the perfect place to learn after all.