Chương 37: Chapter 36 - Another White Room (XI)

Alonso glanced as the wall disappeared. The wall that separated two identical white rooms vanished. Did he want to see it? No, he did not. He wanted to keep the past a mystery, to leave what happened unknown. He was afraid of what he might see, of the face that would appear in his EM space—the face on the other side. But he needed closure. He needed to end this burden. He glanced at his feet. They did not want to move. He sensed the projection of his past self wandering blindly.

He took a deep breath and took the first step. He started to sense 'him,' yet his expression remained blurry. He took another step. He could clearly see the injured shoulder, the trembling hand, the tired face. He could see the fear, but also the determination—the determination to survive. He took another step. It was a young man, just like himself. He had short hair and straight eyebrows. He seemed to be around his own age, if not younger. He took another step. The face was foreign.

It was not Pablo, not a friend he knew, not family. It was also not his own face. It was someone else. Another test subject just like himself, perhaps. He took another step. He was right in front of him now. He could detect every hair, every drop of sweat—everything was shown to him in perfect detail. He looked straight into his eyes. And… he did not feel anything. Why… why was his heart so calm? Why was he not crying? Why was he so cold? He… he had killed, right? He had murdered another. Then cry, Alonso, cry!

But he just stared at him. The man projected before him was also moving around blindly, trying to find his past self. He eventually passed right through him, his existence merely a specter in a story that had already unfolded. Alonso kept sensing him as he passed. He wanted to say sorry, to say something to at least make himself feel better. But… for what? Sorry would not change anything. That man, whoever he was, was dead, was no more. He sensed the moment they started fighting.

He saw his past self shouting, but the sound would not go through. And… he saw the other man shouting too at the end. He had also figured it out. How would it have been if sound had actually gone through, if the light had been on? If they had to fight knowing from the beginning that they were fighting not a creature but another human—what would have happened then? Would he, Alonso, still be alive? Would he have raised a sword for the sake of survival, even if it meant taking another's life? Yes.

The truth was, he would have. He would have tried to talk, to reach an agreement, to try to escape without having to kill. But if everything else had failed, he would have done it. He… would have killed a human for his own sake. He valued his life more than others. Perhaps if it had been Pablo or Jack, things would have been different, but for an unknown person, he would have been selfish in the end. Because… he wanted to live. He wanted to get out.

And so he remained a specter as the sword was thrust into the man's chest. He stood there, an unseen observer, as the young man's eyes widened in shock, the realization of his fate dawning too late. The man's breath hitched, a desperate gasp escaping his lips as blood began to stain his shirt, spreading out like a dark, ominous flower. His hands trembled as they reached instinctively for the blade, a futile attempt to pull it out, to cling to life just a little longer.

But as the seconds ticked by, the strength drained from his limbs, his movements growing weaker. His eyes, once filled with fear and determination, slowly dulled, the light within them fading into a haunting emptiness. His expression softened, the tension in his face easing as if surrendering to the inevitable. Alonso stood there motionless, his expression plain, empty, as a life was taken. Perhaps his old self had shed all the tears he had. Maybe he lost his emotions that day, just as he had lost his humanity.

Maybe he could not cry again because he was no longer human, both in body and mind. Did he regret what he did?

"…" He watched as the man's body vanished, replaced by the red orb. So it was real after all. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. He sensed the projection of his past self kneeling on the floor, crying while ignoring the reality before him. That was his point of inflection—the point of no return. The point where the young man named Alonso Shemson became whatever he was now.

After the breakdown was over, his past self passed out, just as his hand touched and absorbed the orb. And then the space around him froze. He sensed the frozen EM space calmly. Truth be told, he had no idea what he had to do next, but even then, he felt no fear, no anxiety. He did not even feel lost. No. On the contrary, he had found his identity. He had accepted it, with all its burdens and sins. He was who he was. And even as a monster, even if no longer a human, he would still get out. Now more than ever.

And if he had to kill again… then so be it. He returned his focus to the frozen EM space. If his guess was correct, then this was the final step of the series of trials, the point where everything came to closure. He had gone through all the challenges twice, once as the actor and the second as the hand behind the scenes, the active specter. And now, it was the last step. The final act. He sat calmly on the floor as he gazed at the white room. So much had passed between these four walls in such a short time.

So much had he changed, and not just because of the orbs. No, he had changed much more deeply. He had suffered, he had cried, he had feared, he had fought, he had survived. Was it because he was strong? Because his will was tempered? Because before coming here, he had endured emotionally and physically what few had? Or perhaps because his education and knowledge of physics had played a central role in solving the challenges?

Or was it perhaps just luck that every step he took had ended up leading to the right direction? What if he had used the knife to end his suffering? What if the creature in the cage had been just slightly faster and had gone for his neck? What if he had lost himself in the killing frenzy, if his dad had not been there to guide him back? What if he had taken a wrong step in the purple ring? What if he had pressed the other button on the wall out of impulse? What if he had failed to prevail against the other human?

What if… But the reality was that here he was. Maybe in most of the parallel universes or realities, if they existed, he would have died. He was sure of it. So many things had to happen for him to be here. But again, the reality was that he was here. By prowess or luck, or both, he had overcome every challenge thrown at him. He gazed at his past self, awkwardly lying on the floor after soaking his shirt with tears.

"It's been a journey, hasn't it?" he murmured, his gaze shifting to the sword laid down beside him, always within reach.

"Do you reckon many others would have made it too?" He then looked at his past self again.

"So what do we do now? Am I supposed to write the last EM prompt? The progress after absorbing the red orb? My current progress?" He smiled.

"But I have no idea, I have no clue what that number could be. And the reason for that is snoring in front of me." Alonso started laughing.

"We passed out. We really went on and ignored the final piece, haha."

"Should I just write every number then, from 0. 864% to whatever it may be now? But damn, that's a lot of work, bud. It's not like stabilizing an electromagnetic figure in the EM space is casual work. Doing it possibly more than a hundred times… nah, I'd probably die of fatigue first." Alonso's eyes glinted for a moment.

"Well, now that we're together, sleeping-virtual-projection-of-my-past-self, I have this question I wanted to ask you. You see, I have this bad-mouthed, cold-blooded, absolutely unreliable, imaginary friend of mine, named Houston. Yes, like the base. Now, I was wondering if it would be healthy for me to keep such a toxic relationship… alive, so to speak?"

"..."

"Well, he hasn't been that bad, true… and he has been there when no one else was… and it's true we're very similar…"

"And he is definitely smarter than me, and…"

"Houston?"

"..."

"I know you're there."

"..."

"Oh come on, stop pouting. Copy. Over."

"I would have liked to see how you would have managed without me. Over."

"Without you? I reckon I'd have been out of here already, maybe even married and with two cute little kids."

"And you call me imaginary." Alonso smiled.

"So here we are. At the final step, but with absolutely no idea where the finish line is. So tell me, Houston, any ideas?"

"There are three approaches to this problem. One, we can draw all numbers from the last one you remember, up until now. Two, we can try to, based on the knowledge we have of every stage of our evolution, interpolate the stage it could be now."

"Well, point one will take too much time and mental strain. While it's a sure bet, if the number is too far off, we may pass out and die from thirst before we find it. As much as my mental capacities have improved, mapping the whole stage of evolution is way beyond our current capabilities, especially when we can only rely on memory. So that's completely out of the question. So then, what's step three?"

"We both know what step three is." Alonso's smile widened as he let his head fall back, looking straight at the ceiling. After a couple of seconds, he stood up.

"I mean, why not."