The hanged man's words weighed heavy on him, as if they were empowered by otherworldly forces! They were filled with fear, authority, and an overwhelming strength!
The hanged man simply gazed at him, awaiting Sythrik's inevitable answer. "I-I don't pray to anyone as of this moment..." Sythrik stammered as he spoke, clearly inflicted with uncertainty and fear. The man was hanged against two pillars, but even so, Sythrik felt no chance to escape, ignore, or lie and remain alive.
The hanged man fostered a smile as the corners of his lips curved upwards, his eyes narrowed in satisfaction, and his spoke with an eerie joy, "Why is it that you walk about without a god's lending hand?"
Sythrik looked confusedly at the man, yet, bore a face of worry and fear! He couldn't increase their distance, nor move his gaze. They were eyeing one another constantly! Sythrik gazed at the hanged man's eyes, then he spoke with a shaking lips, "The guidance of a god is irrelevant in my opinion, however, that's all it is. An opinion of mine that stems from a lack of belief."
Sythrik paused for a moment, then asked with a cautious tone, "Could I know your name, sir?"
Without warning, the hanged man chuckled, the whole realm of black shook with each echo, and Sythrik wanted nothing but to leave! "I had some speculations... But this man is certainly not normal!!! Could he really be something of a higher existence!?" Countless thoughts dwelled within him, but soon, none. His focus shifted as the hanged man stopped his chuckles.
The hanged man gazed up at Sythrik, face down, and said, "My name is irrelevant. However, what is not, is you."
"What's so special about me?" The hanged man did not care for Sythrik's outwardness and instead, explained, "In a few weeks time, you, your loved ones, friends, those around you deem strangers, everyone within the capital will meet their end."
"E-End!?" Sythrik repeated in disbelief!
The hanged man smiled with a closed mouth and said, "Indeed. all will come to perish, that includes you too, Sythrik Finlay." He paused for a moment, letting Sythrik contemplate on what was just said, before he finally continued, "However, I can lend you my aid if you so wish for it. All I ask for in return, is your friendship."
Sythrik pondered for a moment, then said with a suspicious tone, "Sounds serious. However, how do you know whether or not I'm the right one for this... Job? There are countless others much more exceptional than me, after all, I am but an average man with plain ideas and fundamentals. As such, choosing someone like Sennan Reign would be far more fitting!"
"Moron," The hanging man mused, chuckled lightly and said, "In this world there are none more exceptional than the other, one simply has more potential for growth. Your plainness is what makes you special, as it allows for more growth, not only that, the path you've chose is... Interesting."
Sythrik's eyes widened upon hearing the awful logic behind him. The straightforwardness from the man before him lessened his fear, thus, he argued without hesitation, "All are equal? Pardon, but I hate that logic! Some are birthed with uncurable diseases, conditions, missing limbs, and much more! NONE are equal in this world of ours, its all up to fate and luck to choose who will get what and who will get none."
"Wrong again, moron." The hanged man retaliated. "If I put one diseased individual next to a famed, rich, handsome young man, then yes, there will be a difference. However, as soon as I kill the two, they are as equal as it gets. They were never fated for something great, nor something worthless-they were fated for death, a place of equality."
"Your logic is... Unfortunate. Saying that 'death' is the only balance to life is understandable. Killing a pig has the same result as killing a man, no matter their greatness, at the end, they are always equal." Sythrik spoke an enlightened voice and said, "What was your plan on surviving, or perhaps saving the Capital?"
The hanged man gazed into Sythrik's eyes with a deep grin, "The plan? That is for you to make. All I can do is pave out your path, the rest is up to you, Sythrik Finlay." Sythrik stood there in confusion. Before he could even question his meaning, the hanged man clenched his fists. Sythrik stared at his fists for a moment and started feeling dizzy. He looked down and saw pools of blood running through his nose, ears, mouth, and eyes.
He looked at the hanged man whom was grinning through it all! Sythrik found himself unable to move and react, thus he simply stood still in a struggling tremble. His vision, obscured by crimson blood turned fainter and fainter, his mouth filled with blood simply spurted out the more he tried to talk, to beg the hanged man to stop! His breathing hitched, soon faltering alongside his sight. The blood was piling in such massive pools the void-like space seemed to fill itself up, turning dark-crimson all over the infinite ground and sky!
"Never thought I'd die in this manner... How pitiful!" Sythrik's mind echoed as his realm of thought seemed to falter, almost faint out of reality.
...
"What a sad sight indeed. Seeing a spectacle such as him faint over such an insignificant matter... I wonder how he will turn out, after all, I forced it apart. Usually, you undergo a ritual to break it apart." The hanged man spoke to himself.
The hanged man, sensing something, swiftly redirected his gaze, staring down at Sythrik's lifeless frame. His chest convulsed without breath, then split open from within, not like torn flesh but like paper peeled back by invisible, meticulous fingers. Inside lay a dark, almost shadowy sphere in between. The sphere's essence pulsed like that of heartbeat as its pale darkness spread across Sythrik's body, its profound darkness seeped into his skin, traveled through his veins and blended with his insides.
After an uncertain amount of time, it suddenly stopped, his split body reattached itself without any scars or wounds remaining, burying the shadow-like sphere inside, albeit, a bit smaller than what it was originally! His pale face remained still, and even when his head was stitched back together, a scream was non-existent.
"Any moment now," The hanged man said, revealing an anticipating smile. Only a second after, did Sythrik's eyes open. They were akin to that of a deep void, entirely black, seemingly carrying the abyss. His body had grown somewhat, and his physique turned a bit more muscular. Not only that, his hair had darkened, his eyebrows seemed to thicken a little, and his facial features and bone structure turned somewhat more handsome.
Sythrik's eyes returned to their original hue, he started breathing, albeit easier than before, and his body felt much lighter!
"Am I..." His voice softened, like a whisper from the depths of the abyss. "...Still alive?"
"You are, even more so than before." The hanged man answered from behind. Sythrik, now free to roam and not bound in place new that something had changed! Or perhaps a leniency from the Hanged man after having experienced something akin to death! Whatever it was, he was now free within this... "Red realm?... What happened to the darkness!?!?"
"Nothing of importance." The Hanged Man continued, "How does it feel, the feeling of having a path to tread?"
"A path to tread?" Sythrik asked, confused.
Suddenly, the whole realm shook, slowly turning into its original hue of black. Violent gusts of wind spread in wild spirals and a presence so powerful it made Sythrik want to vomit!
"Unfortunately, It seems we'll have to end out conversation here." The Hanged Man stretched his fingers and gazed at Sythrik, muttering words Sythrik had never heard before! When The Hanged Man finished, Sythrik's form slowly vanished into black leaves. However, before Sythrik could completely vanish, The Hanged Man spoke, "Go visit a museum, moron." With that, Sythrik's form vanished into nothing, leaving only small numbers of black leaves that gradually blended in with the ground of the black realm.
...
Sythrik woke up inside the rumbling carriage, looking around hurriedly. He made himself stand out as joke for his two companions-Sennan and Imelda whom laughed alongside the carriage's constant humping. Sythrik paid it no mind and thought to himself, "Was that all just a dream?"
Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw Imelda and Sennan staring at him with a shared confused expression!
Sennan couldn't hold himself back and said, "You've gotten rather handsome since four days ago! Not that you were ugly or anything before!!! Its just... You know, you've changed a lot for just four days!"
"Changed?" He muttered as he looked at Imelda whom nodded, agreeing with Sennan's statement, as she too had seen Sythrik just three days ago! She simply kept quiet as she thought she might've seen wrong, however, when Sennan spoke, she knew that her vision was just fine!
Sythrik looked at Imelda for a short moment, contemplating a little. Then, he asked, "Could I borrow a mirror if you have one with you?" Imelda nodded and handed one over. When Sythrik caught glimpse of his now, slightly more handsome reflection, his suspicions was answered without a moment of hesitation! "It was real! The Hanged Man was real!"