[BOOOOOOOMMM]
As I extended a hand to open the door, a massive shockwave hit me, sending me barreling through the doors like a ragdoll. I was sent rolling across the ground; I felt no pain, but my left arm and legs stopped responding.
Disoriented and dazed, I used my only working arm to pull myself up a set of stairs. For a moment, I thought I was on top of a red carpet, only to realize it was my own blood dripping down the grayish-white steps.
A fit of coughing hit, the taste of blood assailing my mouth. My blurry eyes drifted toward the open door and beyond. Illuminated by the crimson sky, a giant crater now gaped in the center of the street. There was nothing left of the skinless, but since there wasn't another explosion, I supposed its core was still out there.
As I looked, one of the houses leaned and collapsed in a cloud of dust.
'I might have... underestimated the explosion a bit.'
I was glad for the super painkiller; if I could feel pain, my last moments right now would be very miserable. My legs were twisted unnaturally, bones protruding and dripping my own blood.
My left arm was... not. It was mangled and destroyed, almost beyond recognition.
'I don't want to die.' The thought gripped my heart. I knew it was a feeling, not pain—the painkiller wouldn't let it through.
I was so cold. I was losing blood so fast I could see it pouring down the steps beneath me. I lost the strength in my arm and collapsed back on the stairs. Looking up, I was just below an ashen altar. A broken statue with no face hung low, as if watching me die.
I was tired. I worked so hard. First I had to give up my dream and now... now I was going to bleed out. In a foreign land, far from home.
My vision swam, and I closed my eyes. In the dark I found a remnant of peace. I wanted to convince myself this was all just a dream—that my alarm would ring soon and I would get up to make breakfast. But I knew it wasn't true. I had already lied to myself too much in these long years; I wouldn't keep doing it now, on my deathbed.
'It was all in vain. I knew Dad wouldn't have wanted me to forsake everything for running. I knew I was letting my relationships die in the name of a dream I didn't even want. I know I fell into this pit of trying to get stronger to compensate for not being able to run anymore. I know all of it. And I know none of it mattered. Mom will move on—she is strong. My friends will live their lives without me; I will be a passing memory they remember when they are old, only to forget the next minute. I will die; I will not have mattered, in a foreign land, far from home. Alone.'
A breath escaped my lips, maybe my last. Stars lit up within my closed eyes. I wasn't at peace with myself. I wasn't ready to die. 'If only there was something I could do... I would do it... I would make it different...'
A tear slid down my face.
'I think I miss my home...'
[Hello, child of another world]
My eyes tried to snap open in surprise, but they couldn't.
[What a pity, for you to end up in this state...]
'Who is talking?'
[What if there is something you can do. Would you still want to live?]
'Yes!'
[What if it was something horrible, a journey so perilous that you would rather have died. Would you still do it?]
My thoughts evaded me. Who was talking? What were they offering? Was I signing a deal with a devil? Did I even care anymore?
'I want to live. I want to see my home again. Please. I'll do it...'
There was a low rumble: the roaring of fire, the crackling of dying embers in a campfire, the rumbling of chains against broken wrists, the singeing of flesh, the burning yearning for freedom of a newborn bird that first glimpsed the sky.
[Then I shall name you my bearer. I shall forge you into a vessel fit for godly might. I shall break you and remake you divine. When you are ready, you will walk the path of the starless void and fulfill my quest. Do you accept, human boy? Will you bear my chains, Lucius of Earth?]
'Not even my mother calls me Lucius anymore. No one does, to the point I almost forgot it's my real name. How does it know?'
'In the end, it doesn't matter; I just want to live.'
'What is your name? What are you?'
[You may call me Ithas. I am the reason you still live.]
'Will I even get to be free again?'
[I will not take your freedom. You will be no slave and no prisoner. I only ask that you fulfill my quest when I deem you ready.]
There was no reason to think, and I couldn't, even if I wanted to. It was either acceptance or death.
And so I chose to persevere—to fight and keep fighting. I chose to deny myself death's embrace this one time.
'I accept.'
There was a thundering roar, the downpour of torrential rain, an uncontrollable and never-ending forest fire, the ever-expanding might of the stars. A bond, an oath, a mission.
Fire flooded my veins; my unresponsive eyes snapped open, my fingers curled in pain and unrelenting strength. A powerful gasp of air filled my lungs; the veins in my eyes popped, turning them red. My destroyed arm was restored in flames; my damaged organs burned as energy flooded my body.
On my face I felt a presence—a mask. It wasn't there before, but now it felt like a part of me.
A whirlwind of energy and fire brought me to my feet. There was pain—excruciating pain—but there was also life. My muscles regenerated and strengthened. Both my legs were fully healed.
I heard the roar of an injured beast, the rage of a being that refused to die. And then I realized it came out of my own throat. I stood in a pool of boiling blood, my clothes torn and stained.
I burned, but in the fire I found life. The pain sobered me and brought me back to my senses.
The warding effect of the church was gone, with many husks already charging in. Two skinless slithered up through the door and to the ceiling, no doubt planning to pounce on me like the cowardly beings they were.
And yet I was calm. The husks—once faster than my eyes could track—now moved in slow motion. The skinless moved so slowly that I could see each muscle fiber contracting before they even reached for another hold.
[We are now bound.]
[You are now the bearer of The Mask of Ithas.]
[I have healed your wounds, heightened your perception, and given you precise control of your movements. This effect will last for thirty seconds; you must deal with your enemies and leave this area before the time has passed, otherwise you will be vulnerable.]
[Every time you make use of the mask, a price must be paid. This time, our initial bond has covered the cost; next time, that will not be the case.]
[Move, my champion.]
[Annihilate them.]
And I moved—like a wildfire, like a whirlwind of flame. I had long lost my knife, but it didn't matter. For my flame-wrought hands, the husks were made of paper.
The palm of my hand connected with the face of a husk; afterimages of fire were left in my wake, a lingering trail of where I once stood. Like meeting an accelerant, it spread over the husk's paper-thin skin and incinerated it almost instantly—even to my heightened perception.
Holding its fragile skull, I spun in place, throwing it with the force of a catapult toward one of the skinless on the ceiling. It hit before it could react; it hadn't even noticed my movement. It fell, the cracked ceiling coming down with it. I jumped, meeting it mid-air. I gripped one of its long fingers, the fire eating through its muscles and tearing the long claw free.
With my feet pressed against its body, I propelled myself away, landing on the edge of the altar. In my hands, I now had a weapon.
Mechanically, in the back of my mind, I could hear Ithas counting, reminding me of my limit.
[28 seconds]