Chương 4: Goodbye Old Me

Catalina Terravignion. The Matriarch of the Terravignion family and God of the Eludian Empire carried the unconscious young man in her arms to a table in her chamber. Of course, she was not the real Catalina. This body was merely a wisp of her essence, left behind in the Bloodline Gate millennia ago to carry out her tests. Unlike her true self, this wisp was twisted, sadistic and corrupted. The real Catalina was an intelligent, radiant being who valued life and avoided unnecessary bloodshed.

In many respects, she was the most peaceful of the gods. But no one ascends to godhood without first climbing a mountain of corpses. The darker part of her, long buried and forgotten, dominated this wisp's consciousness. The wisp gazed down at her latest test subject as she laid him on the table. The Bloodline the orb had chosen for him was known as Nature's Ambience.

"Shall we begin, my pretty?" she murmured, her voice dripping with anticipation.

"A human this time. How long has it been since I last got to test on such a nice-looking subject? Too long. There are so many ugly beings in the multiverse," she grimaced, disdain flashing across her face.

"I truly do enjoy working on attractive races the most. For that, I am grateful… so very grateful." She waved her hand over the man's head.

"I think I'll wake you up so you can share in this glorious moment." With a casual flick of her fingers, she roused him. He awoke with a jolt, his eyes wide and panicked. Her aura remained fully unleashed; she saw no reason to suppress it within her Gate. The man began wheezing and convulsing, his body trembling uncontrollably. Tears spilt from his eyes as he gasped for air.

"Such a fragile creature," Catalina remarked with an almost detached curiosity.

"Do try to hold on, my dear, and don't faint too quickly." She waved her hand again, using Identify on him— level 1.

"That explains it. How did a level one even make it here?" she mused aloud.

"Have you completed the tutorial yet? No, I suppose not." She knew he couldn't answer. In all likelihood, he didn't even understand her words. His mind was likely on the verge of collapse if it hadn't already shattered under her oppressive aura.

"This won't do at all," Cataline muttered. With a slight gesture, she restrained her aura. The man's convulsions slowed, and his frantic gasps softened as he started to breathe normally again.

"Better?" Catalina cooed, smiling down at him.

"Unconscious again, I see. Tut tut. That won't do at all. After I was so kind as to restrain my aura, now, don't you think it's only polite to look at me when I'm talking to you?" She waved her hand over his eyes, and he stirred awake. This time, he seemed calmer, though his fear hadn't disappeared, especially when his gaze landed on her. Still, he maintained eye contact, a flicker of courage amidst the terror.

"Well done, my pet," she said with a sweet yet unsettling tone.

"As a treat, I will give you a little something to take the pain away." A single nail on her right hand elongated into a sharp, glistening point. With deliberate precision, she pressed the nail into his chest. He grunted in pain as it pierced his skin, but almost immediately, his body began to relax. Catalina channelled mana into him, and the tension drained from his muscles.

"Better?" she asked, withdrawing the nail, which returned to its standard size as if nothing had happened. From thin air, she produced a small glass bottle. With a flick of mana, she removed the cork without ever touching it.

"Now, drink this, my pet," she instructed, her voice dripping with mock affection. Thin threads of mana forced the man's mouth open as she tilted the bottle, pouring the shimmering blue liquid down his throat. He coughed and sputtered but managed to swallow it all.

"I'm impressed," Catalina said, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Maybe you'll last longer than the others." Her gaze locked onto his as a change began to ripple through him. His expression twisted, his breathing quickened, and then, ever so slowly, he began to scream. – Joseph had always considered his life simple. He wasn't exceptional at any one thing. Except maybe dance. But he also wasn't bad at anything either. A jack of all trades. He was above average in everything he did. Need help fixing a car? He could do that. Need a recipe for a special occasion?

He had plenty to share. Trouble potty-training a dog? He was practically a whisperer when it came to animals. But now, for the first time, he had no idea what to do. No idea how to fix this problem. No idea how to handle the pain tearing through his body. What was the problem? He had just been forced to drink what could only be described as molten lava. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced: all-consuming, relentless, and unbearable. So, he screamed. For about thirty seconds.

Then, his vocal cords gave out, leaving him incapable of making any sound. His throat felt like it had been melted down to raw, useless tissue. Now, all he could manage were wet, agonised gurgles. And the entire time, the woman standing over him simply smiled. In his entire life, Joseph had never wanted to punch someone so badly. He didn't know how he would do it; he didn't know much of anything at the moment outside of the sheer, searing pain wracking his body.

But he swore to himself that if it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to punch this woman. – Catalina stared down at the man sprawled on the table. For the third time in six hours, he had passed out from the pain. Her smile faded. This wasn't as fun as it should have been. No, it wasn't fun at all. And she didn't quite understand why. There was something about the man's eyes. Usually, her toys would plead with her, beg for mercy, and sob apologies for whatever sins they believed had led them here.

But not this man. This insufferable, stubborn man dared to look at her with anger. With disdain. At her! She was a god! How dare he look at her that way? Her lips tightened, and her jaw clenched. Reaching into the air, she summoned three new vials: red, purple, and black. The purpose of the experiment was already slipping from her mind. The thought of her original goal, whatever it had been, evaporated completely. She had only one objective now: To break this man. To make him submit. She would do it.

She always did. Because she was a god. – Marvos sat at her desk, staring blankly into the void. Something was wrong. Too much time had passed. Typically, by now, her mistress, Catalina, would have emerged from her chamber with a triumphant smile, ready to proclaim yet another failure of the Bloodline test. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Catalina had come out six hundred and twenty-two times, her demeanour radiating satisfaction.

She would share a drink with Marvos and gleefully recount the tale of how her latest toy begged for mercy, screamed for death, or sobbed for the pain to stop. But this time, there was no laughter. No screams, no pleading, no sounds at all. Marvos felt a faint spark of hope flicker within her. Could this one finally end the endless cycle of torture? Could he be the one to break it? She could only hope. – Joseph stirred, slowly coming back to consciousness. What day is it?

The question floated vaguely through his mind before pain shot up his arm, forcing a low grunt from his lips. Oh, right… I'm still here, still in hell. He tried to piece together how long he'd been trapped there. Days? Weeks? He wasn't sure anymore. There were no windows, no clocks, nothing to mark the passage of time, just an endless blur of agony. The sound of shuffling feet broke his thoughts. She's coming. – Catalina opened her eyes and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she pondered.

Her thoughts drifted back to three weeks ago. Time inside the Gate was tied to the world it was anchored to, allowing entrants to keep track of how long they had been inside. Where did it all go wrong? She mused. She had been so furious over something so trivial. Why had she been so angry? At the time, she hadn't even understood it herself. How could one look, one defiant glare from a mere mortal, have driven her to such unbridled rage?

Now, in hindsight, she felt a twinge of embarrassment, a startlingly mortal emotion she hadn't experienced in aeons. Not since before she had become a god. But that wasn't the only mortal feeling this human had pulled from her these past few weeks. His presence had proven… humbling. Her thoughts were interrupted as she noticed the man beginning to stir. Rising to her feet, she picked up a small vial containing her latest healing concoction and approached where he lay.

She waited for him to awaken fully, his eyes fluttering open as he took in his surroundings.

"Drink, my pet," she said softly, holding the vial to his lips. Without resistance, he drank. He always drank everything she gave him without complaint, even though he knew that most of it brought him nothing but pain. Catalina watched his breathing steady, his heart rate slowing, and he drifted back into slumber. Her gaze trailed over his broken form. His body was marred with scars, welts, and blistered skin.

The body-altering concoctions she had been pouring into him were doing their work, but the sight of it was hideous. I used to take pleasure in this, she thought, a wave of unease washing over her. What had happened to her? What was wrong with her mind? She left her room and walked toward the desk where Marvos sat, her steps deliberate. She needed someone to talk to.

"Marvos, my dear, pour me a drink," she said, waving her hand. A chair materialized before her, and she sat down gracefully. Marvos handed her a glass, and Catalina took a small sip, sighing as the liquid soothed her nerves. Silence lingered between them. Marvos, ever patient, always waited for her mistress to speak first.

"Please, sit," Catalina said, gesturing with another wave. A chair appeared beside her, and Marvos obediently took a seat.

"Tell me your thoughts. Did I make a mistake?" Catalina asked, her tone softer than usual.

"Mistress, it is not my place to make such a judgment," Marvos replied evenly. Catalina's lips curved into a faint smile.

"You can speak freely. You and I are both creations. You need not fear any punishment from me."

"Yes, Mistress," Marvos said with a bow of her head. After a moment's pause, she added, "Then, simply put, yes, you did." Their eyes met, holding the weight of unspoken truths. Then, Catalina began to laugh, a deep, genuine laugh that filled the room.

"I deserve that, don't I?" she said, taking another sip. The quality was exquisite, as always.

"I lost my way for a while. Who would have thought a human would help guide me back to my course?" Marvos inclined her head slightly.

"He is the most qualified candidate we have had for the Nature's Bloodline. How is the body reconstruction progressing?"

"Wonderful question, my dear. It's going faster than I thought possible…" Catalina replied, her voice carrying a hint of admiration. The conversation continued for hours, soft murmurs filling the quiet space as they discussed Joseph, his progress, and what lay ahead. Meanwhile, Joe slept soundly, undisturbed by the weight of decisions being made about his fate. – Marvos remained seated, still slightly stunned, as she watched her mistress retreat into her room.

It was almost unthinkable; this drastic personality change. For an uncountable amount of time, Catalina had been unwavering, her sadistic tendencies deeply ingrained. But now, these humans, this human, had triggered a profound shift. Joseph. Marvos would sing his praises from this day forth. Somehow, he had accomplished what no one else could. Her old mistress was returning. And it was glorious. – For the first time in what felt like forever, Joseph didn't feel like he was on the brink of death.

The realization shocked his mind so much that he couldn't stop himself from letting out a faint chuckle. The sound caught her attention. He no longer thought of her as his captor. When that change occurred, he couldn't pinpoint. He had truly hated this woman, but something about her had shifted. Her anger toward him, her twisted enjoyment of his pain, had slowly dissolved. Replace with… fondness? No, that wasn't it. Intrigue, perhaps? He wasn't sure.

He couldn't read her well at all, which made sense given what the system had told him; she was a god. And that, quite frankly, was terrifying. He couldn't believe he'd once wanted to punch a god. That might have been the single stupidest idea he'd ever had. Thankfully, he'd never gotten the opportunity.

"How are you feeling?" The voice returned his attention, and he turned his head toward her. He tried to answer, his lips parting slightly as he struggled to make a sound. But speaking was still tricky; his throat ached, and his lips were cracked and broken.

"Don't try to speak yet," she said softly, a cup appearing in her hands.

"Drink this first." She held the cup to his lips and gently poured the warm liquid into his mouth. He drank greedily, the sensation like liquid gold flowing through him. The warmth soothed every part of him, erasing the pain in his throat. His lips began to heal, and for a brief moment, he felt a surge of energy coursing through his body. It was wonderful.

"Thank you," Joe croaked, his voice rough and strained. These were his first words since being dragged into this room. The god merely looked at him in silence, her expression unreadable. Knowing full well how foolish it was to press his luck, Joe couldn't stop himself. This might be his only chance to get some answers.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked. She regarded him for a few long moments. The silence stretched, and he started to think she wouldn't respond.

"Your current body is incompatible with the Bloodlines we have here," she finally said.

"So I've been using an… unorthodox method to force a race evolution upon you. This will allow you to accept the Bloodline." Unorthodox method to force a race evolution? Joe's mind reeled. What did that even mean? It sounded dangerous, and it might explain why he'd felt nothing but agony for… how long? Days? Weeks? He still didn't know.

"So the drinks I've been taking… are changing my body?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That is a simplistic way of looking at it," she said, gently stroking the side of his face. The sudden touch made him shiver, but it was unexpectedly soothing.

"You are the first candidate we have found with such a high compatibility. I had to use this method to ensure you survived." Thanks for that, Joe thought dryly, though he wisely kept the words to himself.

"My name is Joseph," he said instead, trying to hint that he had no idea who she was subtly.

"I know. Joseph, 27 years of age, human of World 43," she replied effortlessly. She paused, her eyes locking with his. He held her gaze, waiting. For a brief moment, something shifted in her expression. The corners of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Was she… about to smile?

"You may call me Catalina," she said at last. Holy smokes, that worked. Sweat dripped down Joe's face. Just talking to this woman, no, this god, was a harrowing experience. But… was it fun? Am I going insane? He wondered.

"Thank you, Catalina," he said, his voice faltering. He was running out of steam, his body barely holding together. Talking was exhausting in this state.

"Are my friends okay?"

"Do not worry, their Bloodline tests are non-lethal. They are just fine." Joe's mind froze. Wait a minute. Non-lethal? So his test was lethal? He opened his mouth, ready to protest the blatant unfairness of it all, but before he could speak, his body betrayed him. Another wave of convulsions wracked him, and he gasped for air.

"Relax," Catalina said calmly, her tone almost soothing.

"I won't let you die… yet." Her words lingered in his mind as his vision blurred. Just before losing consciousness again, he caught one last glimpse of her. She was smiling. This time, there was no mistaking it. – Catalina remained seated, her smile lingering as she leaned back in her chair. Why was she smiling? That cheeky mortal had dared to ask for her name. The sheer audacity of it had left her so stunned that she'd actually given it and even permitted him to address her so. I must be going mad.

She shook her head lightly. Being trapped in this subspace Gate for so long must have finally fried her brain. That was the only logical explanation. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with this mortal man slowly winning her over through sheer determination and resilience. No, that would be ridiculous. Still, the fact remained: she had found someone truly compatible with the Bloodline. If he survived the final steps, she would finally be free of this Gate after so long.

"Survive, my pet, for both our sakes," she whispered softly, her eyes closing as she slipped into meditation.