243 My Identity [1]
Emmet stood alone within the white world. Tak, Tak—
His steps quietly echoed within the white void, ripples forming beneath each step he took.
The more he walked, the more he found himself losing sight of himself. It felt as though he was slowly sinking into the depths of the ocean, darkness gradually enveloping him, embracing every part of his body in a strange and cold sensation.
He could imagine the Arcbishop's expression outside. 'It's over. You've lost.' The Archbishop's voice quietly echoed in his mind over and over again. They were like whispers that reminded him of his ineptitude. Of his... failure.
It was unfair. He never had the time to properly adjust to this world. He... Tak—
More ripples formed as he took another step. He had long forgotten for how long he had walked for. The white world seemed endless, each step expanding the white world before him. Despair had already lodged itself in his heart. ".....Why is it always like this?" Emmet mumbled to himself while staring ahead. He never looked down and just stared ahead. He didn't want to look down. ....He only wanted to look ahead. "Be it now, or the past. Why do I always feel this way?" Fighting a losing battle... It was something he was used to doing. It was for that reason that he continued to walk forward... look ahead. Because this was all he knew to do. Fight without looking back.
"What are you doing? Hurry up and give up!" "Why are you still walking?" "Stop your meaningless struggle and come to my side!" The Archbishop screamed on the outside as he stared at the projection before him. He laughed at times and shouted at others. He seemed to be gloating over Emmet's situation. But his words were useless. They couldn't reach Emmet. Tak, Tak—
Within the white world, he continued to walk forward. As if entranced, his eyes flickered between muddledness and clarity. 'What's he doing?' '....How is he still going?' 'Was I wrong about him?' Leon and the others stared at the scene with bathed breaths. They all didn't understand how he was still able to keep his mind clear. Everyone present had experienced the trials. They knew just how difficult it was. It was a trial with no way out. "It's a meaningless struggle! Give up!" The Archbishop screamed at the projection, his expression cracking out of impatience. ".....What are you doing!? Give up and stop wasting my time!" Yet again, his words went to deaf ears. Emmet continued forward, his expression firm as his steps continued to form ripples beneath him. The more he walked, the more he felt his mind blank. The Ring of Nothingness... It was slowly starting to get to him. His mind... He was losing sight of it. The sense of despair only increased. His steps started to slow down, and his memories started to fade. He wanted to continue, but his body refused to listen. He was... losing. 'Right, this was never a fight I could win.'
Just like his cancer, he was going to lose again. He fought, but the world didn't want him to win. It was as if it was laughing at his failure. "Finally!" The Archbishop laughed at the sudden turn of events. "No one can escape the Trials of the Forgotten Minds! It's time to give up and come to me!" His voice bellowed throughout the surroundings. Staring at Emmet, the others felt their heart sink as they lowered their heads. 'It's over.' '....He couldn't resist.'
'We're next.' Everyone started to despair at their situation. No one thought Emmet would be able to continue forward. They knew that they were next. Tak, Tak—
Emmet's steps slowed down with each step that he took. His mind blurred, and he started to lose sight of himself. The sense of despair only heightened, and he slowed down further. At the same time, his eyes grew more muddled. "Who am I...?" Emmet mumbled to himself. Within the blurriness of his mind, he looked down at the floor. All he could see were ripples. The ripples...
They prevented him from seeing his face. He wanted to see his face. And so, he stopped. 'No!'
'Don't do that...!' Everyone outside started to despair. 'That's it.' 14:47
Some sighed, while some others lowered their heads in defeat. If he stopped now then it meant that he had given up! That he had lost! They didn't want that to happen. But it was too late as Emmet stopped completely. 'That's it.' Some sighed, while some others lowered their heads in defeat. 'It's over. I'm next.'
"Hahaha." The Archbishop laughed in triumph. The ripples gradually stopped, and Emmet looked at his reflection. Blonde hair, blue eyes... it was totally unrecognizable.
"Who is he...?" Emmet mumbled quietly. This wasn't him. He knew this much. "But who am I?" He started to lose track of himself. Raising his hands, he pulled his lips up.
He smiled. He cried. He shivered. He swore. He screamed. He blushed. 'What is he doing?'
'....Has he lost it?'
'Why is he doing that?'
To those watching, it looked like Emmet had gone insane. "That's it! Come to me! Hahaha." But to Emmet? He was just trying to see if he could see anything within those expressions. It didn't seem like it would help at all, but within those expressions, Emmet found something. His past. Memories resurfaced in his mind. Yet again...
But within a smile was something else. I didn't smile because I was happy. I smiled because I had to. He cried. Tears dripped down in the white world, ripples yet again forming around him. I didn't cry because I was sad. I cried because tears were all I had. He shivered. I didn't shiver because I was scared. I shivered because I was sick. He swore. I didn't swear because I was angry. I swore because I cursed at the world. He screamed. I didn't scream because I was surprised. I screamed because I was in pain. He blushed. I didn't blush because I was in love. I blushed because of the constant fevers. "Haa..." His chest started to ache, and he finally moved again. Tak, Tak—
His eyes started to regain clarity. He finally started to remember his identity. Who he was. But the more he walked, the more he realized something. This... It wasn't who he truly was. It was, but at the same time wasn't. His steps slowed down once more. "If that's not me...? Then who am I?" Emmet reflected deeply on the question. Unknowingly, something started to change about him. Emmet's hair started to darken, his pupils started to change, and his muscle structure started to change. All noise ceased as everyone stared at the scene in shock. What was happening? What was happening! Everyone's attention was focused on Emmet who seemed lost in his own thoughts. With each step that he took, the clearer his gaze became. At the same time, his hair started to turn black. His eyes started to turn a different color, and so did his facial structure. An identity was starting to appear before everyone. 'He looks familiar.'
'Who is he...?' 'Why does he look so familiar?'
But the changes weren't enough for them to recognize him. All looked upon the scene in silence. The Archbishop included who found himself unable to utter a single word. Emmet on the other hand walked ahead in silence. His gaze was becoming increasingly clear, and in the distance, he could make out the faint outline of a person. He walked towards that person. The figure's features were blurred, and it was hard to tell how he looked, but Emmet knew. He knew who the figure was. ".....It's been a while." Emmet greeted, his steps coming to a stop again. The figure stood in silence, observing him. "Emmet Rowe." The figure spoke, calling out for his name. Emmet stood still for a moment before shaking his head. "No, that's not who I am." "....." The figure stood expressionless as it stared back at him. "Then who are you?" "Who I am...?" Emmet looked down and stared at his reflection. His face was expressionless. Unlike before, he didn't smile. He didn't flinch. He didn't cry. He didn't scream. Why? "Hah." My tears... They had all dried up. My body... It was tougher than steel. My curses... The world wasn't worth them. My screams... I no longer felt pain. All he had left was a blank look and a face he was familiar with. Staring at his features, he paid particular attention to the blank look on his face. It was reminiscent of a blank canvas.
Yes, a blank canvas. The perfect representation of who he was. It wasn't the canvas that made the painting, but it was what was on it that reflected the painting. Sadness, Anger, Happiness, Love, Fear, and Surprise. Paint was what made a painting. ....And Emotions were what made him. Julien looked at the figure that stood before him, an image was soon becoming clear to him, but only him. Those outside couldn't see at all.
They all thought Julien had stopped yet again. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. He was staring at something. Someone. Emmet Rowe. An abstract version of who he had once been. But the current him, and the past him were different people. He hadn't truly realize how much he has grown since then. Right now, Emmet could look back to what he turned out to be and say, 'You're amazing.'
The reason he disliked Julien so much.
….It was because he was everything that he wanted to be. He was amazing for what he had become. His efforts. They weren't wasted. The results, he had seen them through a different lense. Julien started to understand this, and memories started to enter his mind. "I get it. I need to let go." He needed to let go of the past, but not his goal. His drive needed to be the same, but not his identity. He thought that he had already let go, but that was what he had told himself. The reality was that he had still clung to what he once was. Julien extended his hand, slowly bringing it towards the figure that stood before him. As he did, he took one last look at the person that he once was. "Who am I?" Emmet asked again. Julien remained silent. In the silence, he thought about the answer. There were multiple. Emmet Rowe. The Black Star. Brother. But there was only one answer. "...." The hand merged with the figure. And a bright light engulfed the entire surroundings. His features became clear to everyone present. His hair fully turned black, his eyes turned hazel, and his featured sharpened. His appearance became clear, and the faces of those outside changed drastically. 'That's...!' 'How could this be?'
'What sort of....' The light surrounding Julien intensified. It grew bright, covering every inch of the world. In those last moments, he opened his eyes to stare ahead. The world was white, but at the same time, he could see an end to it.
He smiled then. Regardless of what I had once been, I am now—Julien Dacre Evenus. The one who walks the path of emotions.
This was me. My identity.
