7 – Unmasked

Ashley straightened to her full height. Honestly, she did not see the point of hiding Celestine’s identity. She had used her real name out of habit. A slip of the tongue that felt too late to take back.

“Any problem with that?” she asked.

Is it normal? Is it not? In the real world, when someone asks your name, you just give it. You do not even think about it. This is not like a chat or a forum where you use a username.

While she stood there, waiting for an answer, her body started to glow with a red intermittent hue. The prickles on her skin were familiar, the same sensation she felt whenever she cast a spell. At the edge of her vision, her mana bar pulsated with that same shade of crimson.

In the corner, the five other patients huddled together. Their murmurs filled the small space like a stirred hornet’s nest. An old lady wrapped her arms protectively around the child. Her eyes pierced Ashley. It was not awe. It was something closer to hate or fear.

“I knew it,” Agata said. She sat up slowly. One hand pressed against her temple. “I could see the resemblance to the Saint. But… Well, you didn’t act as a Saint would. Or a demon, for that matter. But now I have felt your power and I am sure of it.”

“Yes. It is me. Okay?” Ashley said. “I spawned in this area a long time ago and left some things unfinished.”

What is the matter with them? Why are they so scared? Maybe that’s a game mechanic. A weird penalty for leaving a quest incomplete for too long.

Agata and Simon exchanged a worried look. Agata gave a small, sharp nod. Simon rose to meet Ashley’s eye level.

“What happened to you?” His hands were clenched into fists.” I do not mean why you abandoned us. Saints rarely stay in one place. But turning evil? Forsaking everything you built? It is… unacceptable.”

Ah. He means why I dropped the Saint Quests.

“Forsaken is a strong word,” Ashley said. She shrugged. The motion felt heavy in Celestine’s skin. “It just was not worth it, old man. The mechanics were not clear to me. So I chose to learn other skills. The numbers had to go up. I chose the build that I could see the most results with. That’s it.”

She could not understand the drama. In games like this, you picked a path. You half-assed a few others. You abandoned the rest. It was just optimization.

“I do not mean that! Nobody forced you to build a faith. You can abandon followers. It is cruel, but it is hardly unheard of.” Simon took a step closer.

His voice dropped into a dangerous, low register. “But going around and burning cities to the ground? The last rumors were of you commanding armies of demons. Burning and stealing the capital. They said you killed the King. They said you pierced his heart with your own horns.”

Ashley smiled. She had never been good at showing emotion. When she was torn between conflicting thoughts, her face tended to contract in a jagged, awkward way that most people mistook for a grin.

“Interesting,” she finally said. The word was for herself, not for Simon. “So you are saying someone with Celestine’s same ‘skin’ chose to go on the low reputation route? I mean, that’s a bold playstyle. Interesting buffs or whatever. But I always thought it was too bothersome. NPCs tend to hate you. At the end of the day, the gameplay is boring: kill, burn, steal. Power up and repeat. Where is the subtlety? Where is the fun if you just kill all the NPCs and steal the loot?”

Agata and Simon exchanged another look of pure bewilderment.

“See? Can you blame me for not knowing who she was? I understood half of the words she was saying.” Simon asked his wife. “She doesn’t talk like she’s from around here.”

“Dear, are you saying someone stole your skin? That they are going around… wearing it? That is horrifying.”

Agata’s face twisted in disgust. She took a half-step back. She looked Ashley up and down, probably unsure if her glowing was a rage about to explode.

“Pardon? Oh. No. No, no.” Ashley waved her hands in an apologetic gesture. “I meant someone with my appearance. A look-alike, if you will call it that.”

Yes. That, they would understand.

“Impossible!” Simon’s voice hammered against the walls.

“You say that someone like you is roaming around causing havoc? Burning cities and temples? That cannot be it. I felt it. When word of your turning first started circulating, I could not believe it myself. I went around preaching that it was some kind of impostor. Someone trying to ruin your good name. But then…”

His voice dropped into a hollow, jagged whisper. Agata reached out. Her hand rested on his shoulder.

“…Then I felt it in my bones. Inside me, something changed. And it was not only me. All the priests of Celestine’s church lost their powers, one after the other. The only explanation is that you turned.”

“Um, that’s weird. Well, how can I know how it works? I thought I knew pretty much everything about this…”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Ashley tried to continue. But the word “game” stuck on her tongue this time. It was a physical obstruction: a piece of glass she could not swallow.

This has to be a game. A game with a way out! Yes. Yes, it is.

“…world. About these things.”

“Prove it, then,” Father Simon finally said.

He stood his ground. His shadow stretched out across the floor toward her, a dark needle pointing at her feet.

“What?”

“Now you are here. In front of us. Blazing with power. Prove this power is here to help us and not to hurt us.”

He did not move. He did not blink. The silence in the room went heavy, pressing in from all sides. The patients in the corner were no longer whispering. They were watching. Waiting.

“You shall speak no further!”

Aury’s voice erupted from the top of Ashley’s head. It was no longer a mere echo in her mind. It was a roar that shook the walls. The double halo spun violently. One of the two glowing rings broke free from its orbit for the first time. It fell to the floor in front of Celestine in an explosion of light so intense it was blinding.

When Ashley opened her eyes a moment later, an angelic figure stood there.

Okay. That’s new.

He was draped in gray ash armor. Its surface was etched with the same spiraling patterns that were woven into Celestine’s robes. A white mask covered his face. Identical motifs were traced across it in fine gold: expressionless and unreadable.

His short hair shimmered with a matching glow to Celestine’s. He brandished a sword wreathed in blue fire. Runes carved into the blade burned with a cold, steady light.