✎ to you, who swallowed a star 「 ed•v 」

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𝖖𝖚𝖔𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖓𝖚𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖙, 𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙.

•••

133rd Floor ;
Khun Eduan ;

Destiny was truly as inescapable as much as it was cruel. Indomitable as it was unfortunate. Sometimes, it shows an illusion— that those we call chosen ones have limitless freedom and potential. Other times, it signifies the reality of an impending doom. In truth, they were all but mere creatures trapped inside a higher being's cursed jar, dragging each other down until only the strongest emerges, setting its sight towards an even larger, less constricted jar; dancing along a meticulously interwoven tale.

Reality dawns upon Khun Eduan like the scorching haze of the 133rd Floor. Humidity that cannot easily be washed away by midsummer showers; golden light striking through frayed leaves that never left anything untouched. With overflowing shinsu reserves beneath its earth and a landscape that resembles a dream-like utopia, he thought that perhaps, those rumors about this place being the closest to a god might not just be hearsay, after all.

גלה את האמת, כי כאב ההתגלות מחוויר לפני ייסורי חיבוק ההונאה.

What warms the honest heart, burns the deceitful hand. Swear to only speak what is real, or fade away until you cease to exist. The Floor of Truth does not discriminate— rarely pure and never simple.

「 G̛͔͇̞̹̈̀͘͘͟i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ t̴͕͖͓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ f̷̵̫̞̉͢ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ t̴͕͖͓̀ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ s̩͙͖̋͛͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊, ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟t̴͕͖͓̀ s̩͙͖̋͛͟h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ s̩͙͖̋͛͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊t̴͕͖͓̀ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ f̷̵̫̞̉͢r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊. 」

Eduan’s grasp on the stiff hand tightened as he threw an inquisitive look at the administrator, Clematis, a centuries-old plum blossom tree with a trunk so tall it could rival the length of his best spears, branches seemingly extending throughout the testing area as if enacting a pillar that supports the whole floor into place, and blush-dusted blossoms that ceaselessly bloom all year long.

‘That's it?’ “We need more information. How heavy must the truth be to meet your criteria?”

「 T̷̫͉̰͕̒́h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞t̴͕͖͓̀ d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜s̩͙͖̋͛͟. 」

Its branches rustled, the placement of its distinct markings shifting, as if displaying a simper.

「 I̶̴̗̗̦͍ͨͭ̉͢͟s̩͙͖̋͛͟ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞t̴͕͖͓̀ t̴͕͖͓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟s̩͙͖̋͛͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊? I̶̴̗̗̦͍ͨͭ̉͢͟s̩͙͖̋͛͟ k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟t̴͕͖͓̀ ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟f̷̵̫̞̉͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊? 」