Oren was expecting to see an illusion of sorts, one that would be his true trial, but what he faced was no hallucination.
...It was real, feeling as though a world had been placed there in an instant.
But before Oren could comprehend a change, the Illusory World shifted once more.
The world fragmented, then reformed, making his mind strain to hold the form of his body and struggle against the immense pressure.
Now, he stood in a place that felt both unrecognisable and deeply familiar, as if it had been shaped from memory yet altered inexplicably.
From across the verdant field, vibrant flowers bloomed from nothing, spreading endlessly.
A magnificent array of colours stretched from beneath his feet to the furthest edge of sight.
Taking a step forward, Oren scanned the area.
In the distance, a glistening lake caught his attention.
It emerged in quiet isolation, embraced only by the surrounding greenery, its surface undisturbed and almost glasslike.
At its centre rested a small island, connected by a delicate path of lily pads forming a neat, almost too-perfect bridge.
And unlike the ruined realm, the sun was a nebulous gold, shimmering across the viridian water.
This… this can't be...
Oren's eyes widened in shock.
Is this actually real?
Turning his head back, he saw a colossal forest shift into place.
Beyond it, mountains, rivers, and cities was shielded from view.
But he could already picture everything, every detail perfectly.
Only when he realised where he was did the memories hit, forcing Oren to take a step back.
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled, lowering his gaze.
No! It isn't... it may be tangible, but it isn't real.
Oren's jaw tightened.
Even if it was real, it was only a memory, warped out of place by the trial.
If this is meant to be my true trial, Oren asked himself, then laughed.
Is this what I long for? What a pitiful desire. A trial is meant to be hard, fierce, but I have already overcome this. Even if I hadn't, this wouldn't delude me.
The wind surged around him, as though taunting him to continue, and so Oren thought.
Because if this place truly existed.
In its proper time and place... it wouldn't be here at all.
It would have been destroyed.
No… not even that.
His home… it simply wouldn't exist at all.
So there was no need to feel startled. This was not news to him. Oren had come to terms with it, just like every other fleeting desire.
When he had tried returning there using the anchor, it had failed, instead, it plunged him at the Revos Verum instead.
That alone proved it no longer existed, Oren scoffed, and even the cause for that was… unknown.
But for once, instead of questioning the circumstances and situation, Oren allowed himself to take what little reverie remained in the sight of his own home.
For a moment, he stood still, his thoughts slipping even as he watched the lake warily.
He chuckled.
If he could focus, Oren would be able to see the outline of the frogs and fish in the water.
He knew it all so well.
To him, back then at least, this place, above all others in his home, had been his own secluded sanctuary.
It had once been popular, but day by day, the number of those who returned dwindled, until only he remained.
The memory of why they left felt distant and unclear. He did not know why, but it was hard to concentrate when...
When…
Oren squinted, his posture stiffening faintly.
Is that… a person? I… I dont recall ever meeting someone here.
But he could not deny it... the world's radiance had darkened a few shades.
There, across the field, a vague silhouette of a man crouched awkwardly by the lake's edge, seemingly enamoured with his own reflection.
His disheveled black hair was shorter than his own, barely brushing his ears.
When the timid man turned, Oren trembled. An indomitable sense of dread drowned his consciousness.
The man wore a crooked smile, strained and unnatural, as though it did not belong to him.
His body shivered faintly, his pale skin convulsing beneath the pristine robes he wore. Self-inflicted cuts lined his cheeks and forehead, as if his hands had torn at flesh.
The fresh wounds should not have healed. Yet no blood remained.
Who… no, what is that?
But Oren already knew who the man was.
It was… himself.
The memory of his old self.
But even then, that wasn't him. It didn't look like Oren.
But it was, undeniably, him.
What! How...?
Oren's breaths hastened as his gaze jumped across the dreamlike expanse, trying to stay calm.
But he couldn't, there was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. Even the sight of a reflection, let alone another person, was a sign of danger.
Are all the other candidates experiencing this?
But before he could worry, Oren heard something, internally.
"...Why would we run?"
There was a slight pause.
"Why would we hide...? Why do we care about those other things, when we don't know them. Why do we want to succeed when nirvana is so close?"
Oren stepped back, sweat pooling behind his neck, as his mind raced with frantic ideas.
For some reason, he knew he couldn't trust himself, nor what he was seeing, because the trial itself was a lie, something he recently realised.
It doesn't care about his current emotions or put candidates against their own ardent desire.
Maybe it does, but at the moment...
All it had been doing was digging through his thoughts and brainwashing him into a mindless puppet.
His stomach churned, as he heard the voice again, but now it was no longer calm, but impatient.
The man's mouth did not open. His lips remained perfectly still as a sound forced itself into Oren's mind.
"You dare doubt Longing's promise? You dare oppose desire?"
Oren gritted his teeth, then, under a single thought, his body relaxed.
This will be interesting.
Oren's eyes darkened with glee.
There was not meant to be another being here, so this was a unique experience, few to none would ever witness.
Running would be pointless, exhausting his mind and wearing down the imaginary shell with its feebleness.
The twisted voice echoed in his mind, but this time it no longer invoked fragility into his consciousness, only an unrecognisable longing.
"Yes, you are right. Longing is not an obstacle we can overcome, but our desire drives us to overcome it.
That is our human nature… our nature as mortals.
So do not fear desire, and do not regret it, for regret only breeds another longing, the longing to return, to undo the reason it ever existed."
With a short breath, Oren went to speak, but before he did, he processed what he had just heard.
What his old self was insinuating was common knowledge, it meant something else.
Something far more grand than just emotions…
Regret forged another longing, while all emotions drove desire.
Each feeling impacted another in a chain, so there was always more than one at play.
That meant becoming detached was impossible here as a… human.
Does that mean the trial thrives on human emotions? This uncanny memory of himself had a tendency to remind him of mortality.
After considering his thoughts, Oren asked.
"What are you getting at…?"
"We are getting at nothing. The Lord has created this false sense of equilibrium. We, as tributes, must follow in line. We are but an offering…
A body, pure enough to endure, a form vast enough to contain.
A perfect offering for longing."
Equilibrium? Lord? What Lord?
Oren scoffed at the sudden poeticism in it. He had only said it to buy time.
But the reply had far exceeded his expectations.
Still, he could not trust it. No matter what information he was given, there was a high chance of it being false.
Laughing, the man's face convulsed, then his arms as they slowly raised.
"We are both prisoners and servants, riding against the waves of a raging ocean. We cannot overcome it, like we cannot overcome longing.
If we do not offer ourselves, we will not succeed."
Oren stepped back slowly, slipping away from the dread.
But before he could think, the tormented man cried out and took a step forward.
"No, don't run, don't leave, stay, there is no danger here, we are no threat."
Seeing Oren freeze, the man relaxed.
"There is only nirvana... only our peace. That is what we wanted after all, when we were a mere... Antherion."
The thoughts dripped with a venom so palpable it felt as though his mind was doused in flames.
Oren shivered as they continued, the thoughts indifferent to the pain Oren felt.
"Don't you remember...? When we were something.
Or do I need to enlighten you of our home, our family, our attachments and certainty.
When we belonged."
He smiled, making Oren fail to resist the fear.
"Remember well, because you are now human, and you cannot return."
Oren smiled bitterly as he secretly took another step back and thought.
"But you do belong somewhere."
Let me guess... nirvana! Am I correct. I belong with nirvana... no, we belong with nirvana.
Oren said convincingly, as his thoughts scattered.
But why do we belong to nirvana?
"Because we are we. We are not like the others. Our true transcendence lies within nirvana.
It truly does.
Desire attachment, do not become unattached.
For everything desires.
Even longing desires, it seeks to return with Everdream. It desires everything. It deserves us. And because of that, our sacrifice is needed for nirvana.
It would be disappointing if we did not agree, Oren."
With no power, Oren could only accept the words as truth. Still, they settled heavily in his mind, making him freeze.
"Mortal, what can you give longing? You only have one thing it wants."
As his old self said this, he realised, then continued.
"This tribute will be fair. Tell it what we desire, and it will grant you your single wish."
Oren's eyes darted across the field skeptically. The world pressed against him from every direction. If he did not answer soon, he could not help but think of failure.
The feelings imposed by the trial dominated his mind, forcing Oren to answer.
I have nothing.
"That is incorrect… you have something special, if you cannot sacrifice anything, then longing wont grant you a wish.
So what is it you desire?"
For a moment, his face brightened, then dimmed.
He had something... something he would not be willing to sacrifice.
He had himself.
Even if that was not what the trial was insinuating, he still had desires.
Oren had chased peace for so long… did he truly want it?
No. There were many types of peace. Abundant like emotions, they shifted, varied, changed.
What if he chose wrong?
Would the peace bestowed to him be death?
Overwhelmed, Oren let go of the human form he had imagined, finding clarity in the pain that came with being unrestrained.
I may not know what I want. But one thing is certain.
…I will succeed.
If success demands my sacrifice, then so be it. If failure means the same, then that is my fate.
I will achieve enlightenment alone, without offering anything in return.
After Oren spoke those words, the violent voice spoke from his mind again.
Only it wasn't a request anymore.
"That is wrong! We want nirvana! And so we will have it, just stay here... forever."
Oren stepped back as the world suddenly trembled.
The ground beneath him quivered, the flowers folding in on themselves as if crushed by an unseen force.
The field, the lake, the sky, everything collapsed as if it had never existed, colours draining and shapes breaking apart until nothing remained.
Oren's eyes widened.
Something replaced it.
Something far more peculiar. Realer than before.
The air felt heavier. It had a smell... now... something that shouldn't be possible but was.
The atmosphere pressed against him, thick and suffocating, at the same time the relentless pain of the trial grounds faded.
Was this the supposed nirvana?
Before he could grasp it, his old self took a step, then vanished.
In the same instant, he stood directly before him.
Too close, close enough to see each intricate scar carved along his face, but the marks faded.
Their golden eyes reflected each other, Oren's haunted face, then the ghastly smile that belonged to his old self.
He needed to get away!
But he couldnt!
His past self's sharp voice resounded throughout the world, echoing, lingering like a stain.
"Oh, Oren… do not be afraid. This is only what you wanted."
Oren shut his eyes instantly.
There was a serene silence for a few moments, but as time passed, each moment felt more and more wrong.
As the world was still reforming, would it return to the void, or to a new destination, another maybe....
Maybe failed... or maybe i am about to die?
But when Oren opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else entirely. Amidst the silent chaos, he counted his final step.