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Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. "Where are we?" "What happened?" "I thought I died!" Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room. As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. "I remember... I was stabbed..." ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. "I... I died in a plane crash," muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor. Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last. "I got shot... I remember it vividly," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. "So how am I still here?" The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories. With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. "This... this seems familiar," he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings. As the words "pairs, pairs, pairs" echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. "It can't be... don't tell me..." he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions. Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting. "I never expected anyone to notice me," the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. "I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?" Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. "Eh... Ethan Rivers," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia. "Greetings, lost souls," Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. "I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life." As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, "This it bad, really bad."

Dark_Eyez · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
167 Chs

Chapter 67: Clarence Invitation

"What are you doing here?" Clarence asked as he shut the door behind him.

 

"Argh…" Jett groaned, the pressure bearing down on him like a vice, squeezing his very essence. It felt as if every breath was a battle, and he was on the brink of losing consciousness.

The force was so overwhelming that his vision blurred, and he struggled to stay upright, each second feeling like an eternity.

 

"You're still conscious? Impressive." Clarence's voice carried a note of admiration. "But I still need to know what you were doing in there."

 

"I was in my office when I noticed that some very special traps I set in a very specific location had been triggered. I rushed over here as quickly as I could, only to find you emerging from my hidden passage. I suppose it wasn't well concealed if a first-year could find it," Clarence said, his tone dripping with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Gosh, I thought you were an intruder."