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Paragon Of Eternity

Eastern
Ongoing · 23.8K Views
  • 16 Chs
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Synopsis

Death? What exactly is it? I never knew, and honestly, I never cared. But now? Now, it's all I crave. I don't just want to understand death—I want to experience it, truly, more than anyone ever could. Not the hollow imitation where consciousness lingers... but a real, final death. For I am trapped in a hellish cycle of dying and coming back. Over and over. How many times has it been? Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Or has it reached millions by now? I can't remember anymore. All I know is that I die, and then I live again... again and again.

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Chapter 1Prologue [1]

"What? We are not going to fuck?"

A loud exclamation echoed through the dimly lit, colorful room. The voice belonged to a somewhat handsome man who had just stripped off his clothes, his mouth wide open in shock.

On the bed lay a beautiful woman with a curvaceous body, completely naked. She reclined comfortably, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

"Do you really think I'll lie down and spread my legs for you? Not even in your dreams. Hohoho." She laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand.

Before he could respond, darkness suddenly enveloped him, and his consciousness faded into oblivion.

---

When he opened his eyes, everything was white.

White walls. White ceiling. White floor.

It was as if he had been swallowed by an endless void of nothingness. His body felt cold, stiff, and immovable. His head throbbed, and as he tried to move, a sharp pressure dug into his wrists and ankles.

He was strapped to a chair. Naked.

"What... the hell?" he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse.

The room was silent, unnaturally so, amplifying the tension that coiled in his gut.

Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!

His heart raced as he struggled to free himself, but the restraints held firm. Then, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed in the room.

A man entered, his face unfamiliar, his presence unsettling. He moved with eerie calm, his eyes locking onto the man strapped in the chair. There was no emotion on his face, only cold indifference.

"Who are you? What the fuck are you doing with me right now?"

The man said nothing.

"Hey motherfucker, say something."

Suddenly, the stranger grabbed his right hand, his grip cold and unyielding. The man tried to protest, but before he could form a single word, pain shot through him.

CRACK!

The sound reverberated in the room as his finger snapped backward, and a guttural scream tore from his throat.

"Arrrghhh!"

The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His vision blurred with tears as he gasped for air. His other fingers followed quickly, one by one.

CRACK!

Another scream. His voice was raw from the effort, his throat burning as he begged, "Please! Stop... Stop!"

His heart began to race madly, and his head felt like it was about to burst.

"Kuuuugh."

But the stranger ignored him, methodically breaking every finger on his right hand. The man's pupils rolled up from the sheer agony, and his eyes turned white before he fainted.

He awoke again, gasping, his chest heaving as if he had been suffocating.

His fingers—no, his whole hand—was healing. Flesh knitting itself back together, bones resetting themselves, the pain slowly fading... only for it to start again.

"Wha..."

Before he could catch his breath, the man moved to his left hand, repeating the process.

CRACK!

CRACK!

The screams that escaped him were animalistic, desperate.

His vision swam, and the edges of the room darkened. He felt himself slipping, teetering on the edge of consciousness, but each time, his body pulled him back. His regenerative powers wouldn't let him escape.

"Arghhh! Arrghh!!" His voice broke into ragged cries, his throat dry, his body trembling.

The stranger didn't care. He wasn't finished.

With a precise motion, the man produced a thin sheet of plastic. Before the victim could process what was happening, the stranger wrapped the plastic tightly around his head, pulling it taut.

Panic surged through him as he felt the suffocating grip of the plastic cutting off his air. He gasped, his lungs burning as he struggled for oxygen, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

But the vacuum was complete. There was no air. His vision blurred, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

He convulsed, body jerking violently as he teetered on the edge of death.

Just when he was about to fade completely, the plastic was ripped away. Air flooded his lungs, but it was a cruel relief. His body recovered quickly, too quickly. His breath steadied, his heart resumed its steady rhythm.

But the torture wasn't over.

The man grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to a tank filled with water. Without hesitation, he shoved his head into the icy depths.

The man thrashed wildly, his lungs screaming for air, water flooding into his nose and mouth as he drowned. But he didn't die. His body healed even as he drowned.

Each time he came close to death, his lungs filled with air again, only for his head to be shoved back underwater.

The cycle repeated endlessly.

The torture escalated.

His bones were shattered repeatedly, crushed and broken until his body was a mangled mess. His limbs contorted unnaturally, only to regenerate and return to their original form.

Next came the blade. The stranger peeled the skin from his arms and legs with a cruel precision, revealing the raw flesh beneath. But before his tormentor could finish, the skin grew back, soft and smooth as if it had never been touched.

His tormentor wasn't done.

With slow, calculated movements, he plunged a knife into the man's chest, tearing open his flesh. Blood poured from the wound, but the agony was worse than anything before. He felt his ribs crack as the stranger reached inside his chest.

The man's fingers closed around his heart.

And then... a sickening crunch was heard.

The man's eyes rolled back, his body convulsing violently as his heart was crushed. For a moment, everything went dark.

But then, light returned. His heart regenerated, the flesh sealing itself as if nothing had happened.

"Arrghhh! Aaaahhh!!"

He screamed again, the sound bouncing off the walls. His mind was a haze of pain, fear, and confusion. His eyes turned completely white as his pupils disappeared, the strain too much.

He fainted once more.

When he regained consciousness, the pain remained, a constant companion.

There was no escape.

The man continued, showing no mercy. He inserted needles beneath his fingernails, pulled his teeth out one by one, shattered his jaw, and then reformed it all with ease.

Each new torture was more inventive, more excruciating. Yet the cycle repeated endlessly, his body repairing itself only to be broken again.

His soul ached.

He could no longer think. His mind had dissolved into a blur of agony, a broken shell. He wanted to die—needed to die—but death wouldn't come.

Not for him.

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