Fall from Heaven

A young man sat alone, facing the setting sun on the concrete jungle he had lived in for twenty-nine years. He scoffed at the word 'live'; In the end, he had never really lived there or anywhere.

His dark, short hair flowed gently with the wind as his blue eyes stared in the distance.

He had spent his whole life sedated and tamed for the archetype of a life that didn't fit him.

Since his younger days, he never had the same grasp of self-control others around him had.

However, he didn't mind, "at least I'm honest to myself." he repeated when confronted with the fallout of his own actions.

But, as much people were willing to forgive him with a shrug and a "boys will be boys." Society had a limit for those that didn't fit its expectations.

Soon, he became well acquainted with doctors, or as he affectionately called them, 'thesaurus spitting nerds.' They loved the nickname so much that they started giving him oddly named candies.

He hated those candies, they didn't taste nice and made him feel all kind of weird. However, his parent never budged and forced him to take them daily.

However, after years of medications and therapy, he was glad to announce to the world that he felt better than ever. "I knew that throwing away all those pills would finally make the difference." he mused proudly.

Now, instead of wasting his life as a wage slave in a boring grey office, he sat on the roof of the former, his legs happily waving in the air 30 floors above ground.

Gone were the days of brain fog and being unable to appreciate the world, the rainbow of life fully opened itself to his senses, in an explosion of stimuli his brain was unequipped to handle after years of pharmacological suppression.

A loud noise from below pulled him away from his enjoyment of life.

Way down below a man wearing an orange uniform screamed into a megaphone, "Don't do it, there is so much to live for! No need for anything crazy!"

"Excuze-Moi? Crazy?! I am healed!" Outraged, he emphasized the syllables of the word 'healed'. Then threw him a brick for good measure.

His eyes followed the red comet's descent, save losing interest when he spotted something better in the crowd. Or to be more precise, the presence of a crowd.

Giggling, he felt he ought to offer a show to such a big audience, "maybe I could do a tip tap dance, bitches love tip tap." he mused ready to get up.

However, his mood sunk like a rock thrown in the water, when among the crowd, he seemed to recognize Celeste.

He couldn't tell for sure, being 100 meters higher than her. However, memories of this single light of happiness in his otherwise dark, boring life hit him in the gut with the force of a hundred hippos. Depression called melancholy and together they influenced his mind, giving birth to a stupid idea; he had to make sure it was her.

And fast.

As a fireman quietly approached from his blind spot, ready to pounce and bring him back to safety, Robert, without a care in the world, simply pushed himself off the edge and down the building.

Wind frazzled his hair as his manic mind thought of what to say if it was indeed her. "Sorry to drop by unannounced? Ugh, Robert. First time seeing her in two years and you open with a pun?"

As he chastised himself, he recognized the cubicle next to the window, his office, muttering "Already the fifteenth floor huh? sure better than taking the elevator." He double confirmed that thought with the memories of unhygienic colleagues riding up and down with him.

He could almost hear a robotic "You arrived at - Ground floor" in his head as he approached the conclusion of his life/flight and, all he could think about was: "That wasn't her, Bummer."

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He woke up disappointed, mind you, that wasn't a particularly rare occurrence in his life.

However, today it was for a different new reason. "I didn't hear the splat," he complained with a pout.

Years of emotional suppression had left him, as Celeste sometimes pointed out, "Emotionally stunted" and, as such, his thoughts had a tendency to wander off in odd directions.

A vast and boundless sea of fog covered the world as far as his eyes could see. Its nebulous billows gently brush past his neck like the warm breath of a lover.

Underneath, he discovered to be standing on a dune of fine white sand. He grabbed a fistful and noticed no blemishes or foreign bodies mixed in.

A world of silence presented itself to his ears, except for the 'tshh' of avalanching sand as he moved around.

Looking up he couldn't identify a source of light, and looking down he couldn't see any shadows extending in any direction; except when cupping his hands on the sand.

And the most bizarre thing in this world of mystery, he was butt naked and hated the feeling of sand on his bare skin.

"Where am I? Where are my clothes?" he wondered while getting up. What was this place, his mind wandered to the hundreds of web novels and such about transmigration he had read. He thought that, at any moment, a warm-hearted old man or big-tiddy air-head goddess would appear and lead him to a new life filled with happiness and lewd misunderstandings.

However, nothing happened, and when he tried to step forward, an invisible barrier stopped him. The fog and sand seemed to be able to come and go just as easily, only his path forward laid barred.

Anxiety suddenly raised in him. "It couldn't be. No..." he muttered in shock as a horrific prospect started taking roots.

He turned around and tried another direction, however after barely 2 steps he met the same wall. Another dead-end. "No, I don't accept it," he said louder, refusing to acknowledge his fears.

He turned to his right and for the third time, his advance met its inexplicable end. "NO, please NO! IT CAN'T BE!" he shouted.

He felt as if the world closed in on him. The invisible walls moved forward and constricted his chest.

Slowly, he fearfully approached the last direction, praying in his head to finally be able to breakthrough.

Just like when he was little and he begged his parents to stop forcing the pills on him, his tears went to waste.

The last wall unmistakably put him in his place, trapped in an invisible cage and with no hope of escape.

Now the humid fog felt choking, like drowning in air. His wet hair stuck uncomfortably to his forehead, not to talk of the mix of sweat and sand now encasing his body like a thin armor.

Breathing faster Robert tried gathering the oxygen that eluded his gasps. In despair, he shoved and punched the invisible wall mocking him.

Blood trickled from between his fingers. He punched the wall over and over again, at some point he had even lost sensibility as every punch produced a wet "squelch" sound against the wall.

However, it wouldn't give or budge, almost as if made of solid steel but missing any kind of texture.

Tears streamed down his eyes as he breathed faster and faster. Defeated he slumped against the wall.

The hot sand under him felt scorching hot and irritating against the skin, he couldn't take it anymore and began hyperventilating.

His head hurt, his hands hurt, and his lungs hurt. Every breath was more laborious than the previous.

In his head, he kept repeating "There must be a way out!". His little mantra became the last seam keeping him together, and eventually lead to him calming down.

For a while, he simply laid down, looking up at the mysterious fog that came and went as it pleased. How yearned for the same freedom.

He grabbed a handful of sand and jealously observed it slowly escape his grip.

After he composed himself enough to move again, he started walking along the barrier looking for a weakness or opening, but to no avail.

Next, he focused on climbing the wall but, with no purchases, it quickly became clear it was an impossible feat. Desperation gripped his heart like a vice as he realized a likely explanation.

"I'm in hell," he said calmly and then exploded in screams of pain.

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Hours or days later, when he reopened his eyes after his mental collapse, he slowly stretched his body from a fetal position.

His body ached, especially his hands that had begun scarring over the omnipresent sand.

He couldn't see anything around, no fog, no light, and no sand. He feared he had gone blind, but felt that wasn't the case.

The light had gone out, and the world he had known and feared had disappeared, replaced by a new nightmare.

Born in the darkness, spectral howl came from places far and close. Unable to see them, Robert conjured the worst images his brain could fathom.

Wolves with six legs and jaws that opened into tunnels of jagged teeth. Raptors that would snag you only to drop you from the highest point in the sky. Colonies of worms that would enter your body while you sleep and devour your insides.

He shivered as he could feel their existence all around him, staring from the distance and biding their time, enjoying his squirming in fear like an appetizer.

Sharp winds cut into him like blades sent by the forces hiding in the dark. Icy coldness spread before he was even aware. He couldn't tell whether he was burning or freezing.

Even his extremities had lost feeling, and in the darkness, he couldn't even tell if they were still attached to his body at all.

Would he even know whether he was being feasted on?

His broken mind giggled in horror. "Of course, this is just a nightmare! I stopped taking my meds and I'm having a schizophrenic episode." he tried rationalizing."

"Please dad, come quick." He begged between sobs.

After the break-up with Celeste, his family (aka single father) didn't trust Robert to be able to take care of himself, and decided to move in with him, 'just for a while.' He said 2 years ago.

His mother had left a few years after he had been born, maybe unable to handle his eccentricities.

However, he was sure that any moment now his father would come home, and he would call an ambulance. Robert decided he would apologize and promise to never stop taking his medicines again and this time he meant it. Then the two of them would go to that very nice ice cream place that had opened next to the park. Maybe, later, they could go and get a puppy, Robert had always wanted a dog but the people around him didn't deem him responsible enough, but he was more sure than ever that he had matured enough from this experience. He would adopt a nice german Shepard and would call him Milo. And they would become best of friends and go on walks every day. Maybe he could even use introducing Milo as an excuse to contact Celeste and seeing how much he had matured she would forgive him for his many mistakes and take him back. And then they would get married and have many children and a house and a happy life and -

"WHY IS MY DAD NOT HERE YET, WHERE ARE YOU, DAD?! DAD, DAD, DADDADDADDA-!" He howled pulling on his hair. "HELP! ANYONE HELP ME!"

"Please don't leave me here, I'm afraid, I'm scared, please help me, I'll be good I promise." He bargained, his voice noticeably softer. "I'll take all my meds and I'll never do anything bad again, so please let me out. I don't want this." he sobbed on the coarse sand. Nobody heard him beside the void, even the howling and the winds had ceased.

He wished for someone to be here, anyone at all. And found a substitute for human warmth in the sand beneath him. He sank his fingers in, and slowly pain came from his thawing appendage- Then a shocking realization came to him.

"Heat has to come from somewhere, and without any light, its origin must be from beneath!" He thanked whatever god had inspired him and began digging down like a dog. His scarred hands broke against the sand but dutifully moved away enough sand to finally reveal a small source of light.

Seeing the faint glow, his puffy eyes went red in anticipation and accelerated to an almost inhuman speed and soon enough reached the source.

A glowing emerald lay encased in an ancient-looking spiral-shaped formation of unknown purpose. Seeing his last hope at getting out he went for the gem and then everything went so bright he had to close his eyes.

The gem's light engulfed and tossed Robert around. He felt his empty stomach churn like a ship in the middle of a storm. Then as he felt the pull of gravity wane and light disappear, he opened his eyes to a new world.

Gone was the darkness and the monsters that plagued it. Robert saw an ornate classroom, rich tapestries and bookshelves adorning the grey stone walls, and on the roof, a stained-glass skylight bathed the room in rainbow light.

His eyes moved to his immediate surroundings. A wall of wooden desks surrounded him, arranged concentrically on different elevation levels. Behind them, dozens of bright-eyed students looked at him, their pencils halted in midair.

Soon their bright eyes dimmed in confusion as they properly examined him. Haggard would be a compliment for the current Robert, between being naked and covered in blood and sand. His hands were still bleeding from the sand digging, plus the frostbite had robbed his body of many pieces.

However, Robert almost cried, not in pain, but joy. Actually, scratch that, tears streamed down his eyes as he looked around. "I'm not in Hell anymore, hahaha, I'm free!" he said between his broken lips, he felt parched from not drinking for days, but the only thing he wanted now was to walk more than two steps.

He quickly got up, ignoring the pain shooting through his body, and took a few hesitant steps forward. As he took the third one, ready to savor his freedom, a familiar sensation of hitting an invisible wall froze him.

Before he could do or say anything, a voice came from behind.

"Disgusting." Robert turned around and saw a snobby-looking man dressed in tight, form-fitting blue attire. Not a hair stood out of place, nor a blemish could be seen on his impossibly perfect face.

The man jerked his hand, and a rich cane appeared out of nowhere in a flash of light. "Sop, Revitalizio," he spoke without breaking eye contact with Robert.

All of a sudden, Robert felt a warm current around him, scrubbing his body of filth. The next, his missing nails and fingers grew back, followed by all cuts and scars disappearing like snow in the sun.

Robert, at a loss of words, wished to thank the man from the bottom of his heart, however, something in the way he looked at Robert made him shut up.

As further confirmation, a man in ragged apparel winced every time he heard the elegant one talking. His right wrist was bleeding, but Robert saw no cuts.

"Don't let your guard down." He began talking. "This sinner might look like a normal human but is fundamentally different. The influences of the netherworld have already infiltrated his body and mind. One of the most obvious being..." He turned from Robert to one of his students.

"Mr. Pomfrey!" A pudgy young man shot up, his black robes fluttering under him. "He can't cross over the circle of protection!" Pomfrey answered. Robert was taken aback and decided to remain quiet and listen, there was much to learn.

"Correct." The teacher nodded and then continued. "As they can't cross or influence the world over the circle, it is your most important mean of defending yourself. Don't be fooled by pitiful appearances, most netherworld netizen would sink their teeth into you so fast you wouldn't even be able to realize it happened." He tapped the circle with his cane.

"Naturally, just making a circle is not enough, making it tamper-proof is just as important. Salt can be blown away, and chalk can easily be wiped by water. And most importantly, no matter how good your circle is, if the floor can be damaged anything drawn on it will also follow." He tapped the metal circle once again. "The best option is a room sealed away from the elements and a cast circle that can't be indirectly damaged."

Then, he moved away and looked around, and settled his gaze on a young girl. "Miss. Winfrona, what can you tell me about this sinner based on his appearance." The young girl slowly stood up, her blue eyes scanning Robert. "While looks can be deceiving due to possible physical camouflage, lack of horns or mutated traits mark him as the lowest grade of sinners. Possibly newly awakened."

"Excellent answer, one plus to Ms. Winfrona." he nodded proudly. One student raised their hand, and the teacher turned his head, nodding. "Professor Giarratana, how can we be sure of its danger level?"

Prof. Giarratana smiled wickedly. "Mr. Torrin, that's a good question. There are many options, but the simplest is by forcing him to reveal himself. Nether netizens are prideful by default and will never let you hit them, so just force them to reveal their capabilities." He turned to Pomfrey.

"Mr. Pomfrey, I recall you asking me to witness your mastery of a kinetic spell. Why not let the whole class witness?" Pomfrey didn't hesitate and quickly went by his teacher's side. He prepared his wand and pointed at Robert but seeing his pitifulness, hesitated.

Witnessing his student's hesitation Giarrusso spoke up. "Don't worry, he isn't going to die, his real body is not even here, just a mana avatar." He began explaining, "once the avatar crumbles, he will return to the netherworld. Furthermore, just like animals, sinners, demons, and alike don't feel pain like we do, it's just a reflex from when they were alive or elaborate lies to lower your guard."

"Hey! what the- mmmhhh" Robert tried to retort. Prof. Giarrusso didn't even turn to look at him, just squeezed his fingers together, and Robert's jaw shut completely. Robert could only moan, unable to open his mouth.

"shhh little sinner, it's not that easy to trick us." Giarratana sadistically smiled.

Convinced, Pomfrey steeled his heart and exclaimed. "Forzampatto!" Without further signals, a ponderous force slammed into Robert's chest, breaking his ribs and sending splinters into the lungs. Lifted in the air by the impact, Robert slammed against the wall and felt his spine shatter.

Unable to even open his mouth to cough blood, Robert's cheek swole up with only two small trickles of blood escaping from the side of his mouth.

Robert could feel he was about to die, unable to breathe or feel the rest of his body. "Revitalizio." Giarratana cast the spell from earlier, and Robert felt his body spasm and twitch as all injuries disappeared leaving no traces behind.

"Not so fast," he smiled at Robert. Then turned at Pomfrey and gently said. "Good job. Just what one would expect from the son of a war magus. Soon the rebels will shake in their boots just by hearing your name. One plus to Pomfrey." He said before waving him away.

"This demonstration inspired me, I planned on letting you have some field experience sometime in the future, but why waste such a great chance? Form up a line, we are not going home until everyone has cast at least one offensive spell." He said to a growingly excited class.

"Don't blame me, blame fate for placing you upon our plate." He said to Robert with a smile.

Robert couldn't even cry as student after student tried out their spells on him. He was burned to a charred husk, frozen, minced, crushed, and much more. Every time brought back by a casual word from his captor.

The teacher kept smiling, as his students received a baptism of blood he lectured. "Power requires the strongest of wills to be wielded properly, that's what those rebel rabbles fail to understand. They believe that their lofty ideals will replace the truth of the world. They believe that peace once established is eternal and doesn't require more sacrifices. And, most foolish of all they intend on giving up power after the war. All of them are fools!" He screamed almost frothing.

"Peace is established on a basis of force and maintained through it. You get rid of your power and you are simply offering it to the next man that comes forward. Doing so is not only righteous but natural too! You wouldn't expect to see a lion declawing himself to bring peace to the savannah. Learn to use your power, grow it, and when the time is right unleash it to get what is want just like the generations before you did!" The propaganda continued no stop. Giarratana believed in every word based on the fervor in his voice.

Something important had snapped in Robert as he listened to the lecture and felt the 127th spell fatally maiming him. He was not a particularly pious person but despite his inability to rein in his impulsive behavior he still considered himself a good person that would help others when he could. He also felt himself a little bit of a child at heart, innocent in his perspective of reality.

This innocence burned like a soft spark in his heart, but now, he couldn't feel it anymore. A burning desire had taken root there instead. The freedom he wanted could no longer be conquered passively by running away, it had to be taken by force.

This newfound perspective cooled his head down and allowed Robert to overcome the pain. As much as he wanted to scream, and beg and pray for them to stop, he stayed quiet. Even when he had been set ablaze or lost all his limbs, he bid his time suffering in silence.

When the class finally quieted down, having let all their magic run wild, Giarrusso congratulated everyone and sent them home. Unknown to Robert, this was a rite of passage for the students. The academy they belonged to turned talented pupils into war machines.

Unfortunately, untested mages often lost their nerve the first time on the battlefield, unaccustomed to blood. To prepare them, the academy started using sinners as training targets. A convenient bridge to let the recruits taste blood in a safe setting and to make it easier in the future for them to not hold their hands.

Giarrusso looked at the shivering naked man on the floor and took great pride in what he had seen today. He was ready to send the sinner back to hell when the latter suddenly raised his hand.

"Oh? The little sinner has something to say?" He asked mockingly but still dispelled the muting spell with a wave of his hand.

Robert slowly got up and looked at Giarrusso. "What is the name of this world?" he asked in a solemn tone. Robert's weak body stood crooked and trembling, but his eyes stared at Giarrusso with steely determination.

Giarrusso sneered. "Why do you want to know? Gonna ask your demon pals to pay us a visit?" he asked before swinging his cane and breaking Robert's left knee. "I took off my fair share of demon scum, you don't scare me."

Robert kneeled in pain but continued. "Because one day I will come back. And on that day, I swear, I will burn everything and everyone you love."

Giarrusso laughed at this pathetic worm trying to intimidate him. "You want bis? Fine, have it your way." He shrugged.

"This is Etania, more precisely the Uborg Magical Academy," he answered amused.

Robert fixed those names in his mind. "Now little sinner, I feel like it's time for us to part away, and, since you talked about burning all of us, I'll give you a little something for the road." He stressed the last part with a malicious tone, then he pointed his cane and chanted "Atherfoco!"

A red wind escaped both gems at the same time and invaded Robert's mouth before he could react, the next moment he felt his chest burning, then his throat.

All the oxygen in his body had suddenly lit up, his alveoli popped like popcorn and soon his veins too started exploding as the red cells carrying oxygens had inadvertently become flares inside his own body.

"Revitaligo!" he successively cast. Suddenly his body started repairing itself, blood vessels knit back together and his skin turned white again, however, the fire didn't extinguish.

"Sorry, but I can't stay and enjoy your company any longer, got a busy day ahead of me. Next time someone summons you around here, don't be a stranger and visit me." Giarrusso said while bristly walking out of the room leaving a burning Robert behind.

It took over an hour for the Healing spell to finally lose in this battle before Robert could die.

The next moment he woke up back in the darkness. Robert's body had been restored and now burned with a different kind of flame.