A Womb Within A Womb

They were childish.

Their inability to get past their private issues in the midst of danger, their small squabbles, and their innate sense of arrogance due to their unbelievable strength; they were children attempting to become adults.

It was inevitable that this would occur.

In a normal school situation, students would bully each other over something as small as an item of clothing or a sense of superiority due to physical attractiveness.

It was a miracle that this was the only set of issues that arose between them.

Although the set of issues was related to them attempting to kill each other but it was as you would expect from teenagers.

Teenagers with a set of circumstances that went far beyond the norm.

Those who attend the Military Academies either had something to prove, a will to fight, anger towards the Abyss or no aim in their lives.

It was unlike the Royal Academy in the Empire's Capital.

Over there you would run into the arrogant Nobles who believed themselves to be above the commoners, you would run into the students who enjoyed hanging out after classes and exploring the depths of the Capital or visiting cafes and shopping.

The atmosphere was completely different.

Their circumstances were completely different.

They were truly innocent.

If the average student from the Royal Academy attended the Military Academy and visited the Abyssal Frontlines, it would be a miracle if they lasted longer than 24 hours.

In the first place, those in the top Squadrons of the 1st Year were irregularities.

It was people who had the mental capacity to endure the gore; the horrors.

But in the end, no matter how much they could endure, teenagers would remain teenagers.

They would have fantasies of having romance with others, fantasies of becoming powerful, and for those at the top of the Military Academy, belief and pride that they were the best.

It was in this situation that Savana and Silvia found themselves estranged.

And their circumstances were especially unique.

The only issue was that this relationship break-up never occurred in the game.

It was an anomaly.

One Aranea would remain blissfully unaware until it appeared like a runaway train before her eyes.

An unstoppable behemoth of an ordeal.

-----

Sildoret Empire.

Imperial Capital City, Larinet.

Imperial Castle.

In an isolated area, far from the reaches of the grubby hands of politics.

In a fresh garden sprinkled with luscious flowers and pathways, the small spring creeks rushing by echoed between the glass walls surrounding the garden.

An arch of intricately braided bushes and flowers led to a small yet beautiful white pavilion.

A dark-haired lady sat on the only seat beside the table; her clean, well-shaped fingers interlocked as she held her head down.

Her face held slight traces of age yet her natural, mature beauty couldn't be hidden.

Beneath her fingers was the only communication she had received from the Emperor since their wedding night.

She hadn't seen his face in almost 16 years.

And the first thing he said to her since was...

[Charles has passed away.]

Her fingers crumpled the page into bits, the small splattering droplets draining out of her eyes etched the final hints of life she held within her.

'My baby.'

Her voice couldn't leak.

Her body couldn't shake.

Her eyes couldn't blink.

She had lost all will to live.

-----

Lethraxus Duchy, New Raxus Estate.

A dark, shadowy office encaged the black outline of a figure within.

Holding a letter in his hands, he took a deep breath; it was a minutely nervous breath.

Then, he opened it and began reading the words within.

Reading the words line by line, his nervous breath quickly calmed down; his nervousness dissipated alongside the shadows as a light flickered on above him.

He knew best that these words were nothing but lies.

She would never die so easily.

Not her.

-----

Admitting the monster known as 'Aranea' into the Military Academy, a sacred location dedicated to raising people to protect the world, brought forth constant flack from the people.

It was considered a risk by many who lacked insider information to accept someone with an extremely negative social perception.

In this world, discrimination against a person of such danger is the norm.

Watching it from the other side of a screen whilst playing the game was one thing.

Experiencing it was another.

To put it simply.

No one in the world accepted Aranea.

Her past 4 years spent traversing and improving her odds of fulfilling her role taught her well how preposterous the propaganda and rumours had spread amongst the people.

Aranea knew it all too well now.

And her actions henceforth will only worsen it.

Yun was one of the first to fall beneath that negative influence face to face. Glancing up at the crimson waters hovering right above the glass-like cover above the cave, the young man felt his world collapsing from all around.

He wasn't one to ever feel despair.

He always looked for a way forward, it was his style.

But no matter how he looked at it, there was no way forward.

Aranea was twisted.

A monster.

A demon.

A vile being.

Not a single slue of adjectives was enough to explain his emotions, it was unbearably stuffy yet simultaneously empty.

Didn't that red-headed idiot with better skills than him hold interest towards her?

How?

It made no sense to him.

What was so interesting about her?

About this thing?

He looked at the show the tiny devil was preparing.

The puppet show.

Then he followed the thin strings of reflective invisible lines to Aranea's hand.

Then, he looked past her hands, at the pool behind her.

They were being pulled towards it.

Into it.

-----

Savana stood above the scorched coral walls.

She observed deeper into the coral maze, at the magnificent archaic structure that flooded half of her vision.

It looked to be in the shape of a twin-horned, succubus-like lady; it was a statue.

A crimson coral statue.

The horns curled up into the sky with intricate, pleasing carvings. Her skin was smooth, and the coral had no bumps within it, unlike the one she stood on.

The clothes covering her scantily clad body were made of the same coral yet that same coral had a different flow within it; like a living breathing creature.

The statue was odd.

Massive.

And daunting.

Jumping back down, Savana ignored the water splatters staining her pants and walked up to Charles.

"As you said, it's moving like a living creature, the clothing isn't normal."

"Hmm..." Scratching his chin, Charles, who was sitting on a broken section of the coral, pondered over the meaning of those worm-like movements on the cloth.

The statue was something they discovered a day after they temporarily resolved the issue between Savana and Silvia.

After a day of carefully traversing through this coral maze, that thing finally came into view.

The exhausted members had mostly recovered, making the journey past the non-stop waves of enemies less difficult. The pressure on the few functioning members from before had been reduced.

If there was one thing to point out it was the scent of gunpowder between Silvia and Savana.

One small spark was enough to set it ablaze and they were fortunate enough that it hadn't happened yet.

Savana wouldn't tell them what the issue was either and Silvia acted like there was no issue in the first place.

What a mess.

Pushing his finger into the chest-high crimson waters, he playfully swirled it around as he gazed into the sunless vermillion skies.

Thinking back to everything they had faced so far, or the lack of things they had faced, he slowly felt as though a spear was being plunged into his chest.

A cold, incoming threat.

Something terrifyingly dangerous.

Whatever the threat was, it was bound to be related to the statue.

A Realm Tear, and in this case a Fragmented Realm, was something beyond their qualifications.

But the fact that they had made it this far.

It was weird to say this, but it was a bad sign.

Worrying all on his lonesome, Charles thought back to what they said, that they were declared dead.

His worries weren't only about his survival, but also his mother.

His one and only family.

-----

It's quiet.

More than ever.

It's been a long time since the last time I was fed.

The filth is fading from my memory.

His voice, however, lingered.

The preaching of the one named 'Aranea'.

The prayers of the one named 'Reynauld'.

Her father.

His constant prodding.

His constant nagging.

The constant repetition of the word 'Ichor'.

The new 'Ichor'.

Me.

But I haven't been drowned yet.

My mother, the one named 'Revshika', I have yet to drown with her.

And the cry...

The cry became louder.

It was a cry she was familiar with.

A cry that echoed endlessly within this womb.

But she didn't like the sound of the cry.

Its voice stabbed at her.

Bled her.

Reminded her.

Of 'Aranea'.

What was 'Aranea'.

She wanted to know.

And she didn't want to know.

It scared her.

The unknown and the truth of the unknown.

Her life consisted of nothing but vermillion.

She couldn't imagine what it was like outside the vermillion.

But imagining it also scared her.

What if...

What if the outside...

Was worse than the inside.

It was a horror she kept at bay at all costs.

She didn't want to believe that to be the case.

It couldn't be.

It shouldn't be.

Otherwise, if it was...

She'd rather die than have something happen.

And that also scared her.

Because dying was as scary as having something happen.

-----

Aranea listened closely to what they said.

Her ears were wide open.

Every word uttered by them was registered by her and promptly responded to, be it inwardly or outwardly.

She always kept them within arms reach.

Close and warm.

Warm enough to replace the itchiness.

The fervent heat.

The spasms.

The urge.

Replace it all-

Replace it-

Replace.

Clatter-

Her teeth smacked upon each other, grinding away layer by layer; the bitingly cold winds draped her fragile body.

The ground beneath her was dry.

Dark.

Musty.

Pungent.

Invisible lines of string pushed out of her fingers, connecting to her new toys.

They had passed through the Ascension Pool.

Through the Lacaris Ichor.

And into the heart of the Fragmented Realm, Revshika.

And there she stood.

Her majesty.

The holy mother haunting the blazed world of vermillion, the blighted lady of dust; the harbinger of endless dusk.

The core of Reynauld's Cesspool.

Beneath her statue.

Beneath her mutilated innards.

Beneath the Lacaris Ichor.

Within her womb.

Aranea witnessed a scene she had seen many times in the game.

The horrific scenery of someone who had gained what they lost only after their end.

After their world turned to crimson.

After the endless skies swallowed her whole.

The drowned lady, Revshika.