180 Upon Closer Inspection... (1/2)
Though there weren't any dangerous Anima storms to contend with or shattered spacetime mazes to avoid, there was a striking manifestation within the fissure that had caught the couple's attention... and concern.
About four kilometers into their descent, an unexpected transformation in the scenery around them had prompted them to stop and assess the severity of the damage that contained within the fissure.
Reed gasped when he recognized the gravity of the situation and said, ”I didn't think it'd be this bad. Holy shit, it's pretty much total anarchy down here! I think we might've popped the lid on something we shouldn't have.”
”You think?” replied Lu'um. She too had come to the remorseful conclusion that they shouldn't have removed the geode of souls — at the very least, not before they had ventured past it first.
It had become evident to both of them that the geode of souls had actually served a purpose before they had taken it out for themselves. It had not been so much as a barrier to keep outsiders out, but as a net to keep what laid beneath it contained.
Past the area where the enormous geode once blocked existed a predicament that could only be described as a shitstorm for the history books.
”In a way, we've pulled off the scab on this wound,” said Reed, hitting the nail on the head. ”The only thing that we can do now is double-time it to the source of the problem and fix it.”
It was an ocean of souls. That was what the geode had been blocking off the entire time by pure coincidence. A seemingly endless deluge of swarming motes of light swam mindlessly in perpetual unrest.
They were all uniquely different than one from another upon closer inspection, flickering in a variety of colors not visible in the narrow wavelength that mortals viewed the world with.
To a normal mortal, they would have seen nothing more than a faint, almost illusionary light show, but to Reed and Lu'um it was far more than that.
They saw them clearly. Though their forms were spectral in nature, they could distinctly make out the figures of an innumerable amount of people as they wandered to and fro in the fissure.
Every single one of them was undoubtedly deceased, though that did not stop them from behaving in strangely erratic ways that made them seem... alive.
As they descended further, Reed and Lu'um were bombarded with an incessant stream of intrusive, disordered thoughts and memories that belonged to the flock of loose souls.
It was the complete sum of a person's identity, both the bad and the good — multiplied by several million individuals.
Pain alone could not describe what they had begun to experience as they descended into the psychic melting pot of souls because... pleasure also existed in the midst of the mindbending chaos.
For every painful memory, rejection, and failed wish these people possessed was equal parts euphoria, delight, and rapturous ecstasy.
The joy of becoming a parent, of a love realized, of accomplishing one's dreams, of raw physical pleasure from a variety of debauched acts — there was no end to the constant stream of multifaceted delight that continued to assault them.
In an endless number of ways, they were simultaneously experiencing the loss of a million failures and another million successes.
Reed had been absolutely right in preventing Astor, Ophelia, and Horatio from coming down with them. Had they tagged along, they would have surely turned into catatonic husks from what he was currently experiencing at the moment. Their minds would have been melted into a soupy mess, their unprotected egos torn to shreds in the unending psychic tempest.
Worse still, the small possibility of their souls being lured of their bodies could not be excluded. Tempted by the subconscious call of their swarm of souls, they could have suffered a terrible ending...
Even Reed, who had the protection of his soul being confined in his mark of responsibility, had not been completely exempt from the constant input from the souls around him.
It was akin to highly pitched static noise that could not be silenced, regardless of the auditory protection one could afford. The combined psychic wail of millions of souls was too much, even for the mark of responsibility.
The static noise pierced through every additional barrier Reed had mustered. There was no stopping it, they could only endure it with some limited protection.
Ugh... I can't think... straight with all this... clutter in the way...! Goddammit!
At best, simple thoughts were easy to construct without too much difficulty. Something along the lines of ”Keep going down!” or ”Ignore the voices!” weren't too hard to formulate. But anything more complex than that had become a chore to do without getting interrupted by an invasive thought or memory from someone in the pit of souls.
His mind was slowly being chipped away, despite his best efforts and recent experiences with psychic warfare. Reed's torture at the hands of that bastard had taught him just how terrifying a mental attack could be.
He had learned from that looped nightmare in Cem-Elle that not all battles had to be fought with one's fists, weapons, or over-the-top Anima techniques.
Breaking into and defiling the enemy's mind was a far more effective and efficient method than beating them into a pulp. It was also far cleaner too, leaving no evidence of the assailant's crime. After all, a drooling madman would never be able to disclose the identity of the person who turned them into a babbling nutcase.