Soul Realm：Fate Change

Chapter 8 - The Dark Pact and the Guardian's Sorrow

Unexpectedly, behind the second door lay a hospital room, which once again confirmed my conjecture about the illusion.

The monitoring machines in the room emitted chaotic beeps, and the bustling medical staff hurried past, attending to the frail boy lying on the hospital bed.

It was Yumoya.

His father, Yuka, remained as disheveled as ever, standing in the corner, pressed tightly against the wall, as if wishing to embed himself into it. Yuka stared fixedly at the lifeless boy on the bed, clutching the small photo of the boy I had seen before, the one that had been tucked away in Yuka's wallet.

The doctor called for his attention: "Sir, your son is in critical condition. We will do our best to save him, but you need to be aware of the risks involved in the resuscitation and sign the relevant documents."

"At the same time, you need to settle the previous outstanding payments as soon as possible. The hospital is aware of your difficulties and has already waived part of the fees. We can prioritize Yumoya's life, but you also need to cooperate with the hospital."

Yuka, as if soulless, nodded blankly and signed mechanically, like a marionette.

Only when the room returned to silence, amidst Yumoya's labored breathing, did Yuka's clenched fist and the dense obsession in his eyes resonate with each other.

I had no intention of continuing to witness Yuka's suffering and prepared to find Celeste in the next room.

As I left the room, I heard Yuka muttering to himself again, his words as tangible as if they were carving out a cage for himself.

"He must live, Yumoya must live, he has to live."

Yuka succeeded.

Behind the third door, Yumoya was no longer the gasping figure from before; he had gained some weight, and his complexion was much healthier.

Yuka, too, had shed his previous despondent appearance and was now well-dressed.

The two were strolling on the lawn in front of a white standalone house, a picture of bliss after hardship. I tried to recall the room behind the first door, which was more akin to an apartment's decor, completely different from the current interior style of the white house.

It seemed that not only had Yumoya recovered from his illness, but Yuka had also come into money to change houses.

Could all this have been achieved with the help of the Guardian, as Yuka had mentioned?

Edwine once said that the Guardian did not have the power to alter fate. Celeste helping me find my soul fragments to delay my death was merely doing what one could within the bounds of destiny.

Unless Yumoya was not meant to die, and Yuka's fate carried the chance of a miraculous recovery, the Guardian alone could not have reversed all this.

Or perhaps, it was not the Guardian at all.

But the life and death, wealth and poverty of Yuka and Yumoya were now irrelevant to me. I flexed my stiff fingers and tightly gripped the handle of the fourth door. Although I didn't know why I had entered this strange illusory space, since fate had guided me here, there must be a reason.

Perhaps Celeste was behind this door.

The door was unusually heavy, and the sound of a torrential downpour mixed with a peculiar tapping noise reached my ears. The room was pitch black, and I could barely make out the outlines of the furniture, recognizing it as the living room downstairs.

Tap, tap.

The dull knocking sound came again, and I groped forward in the darkness, following the noise.

This living room was even more chaotic than the one I had seen today. I kicked scattered beer bottles after just a few steps, and piles of pizza boxes teetered on the floor and tables, with clothes strewn everywhere.

Only one spot was clean, standing out like a carefully protected flower bed amidst overgrown weeds. I moved closer and, by the occasional flash of lightning, saw what was placed there.

On top was the small photo and Yuka's business card, beneath which lay a solemn white paper—Yumoya's death certificate, dated just two days ago.

No wonder Yuka had seemed to vanish from the mortal world these past few days.

A thunderclap jolted me awake from my shock.

The tapping sound came again, and I turned sharply towards the end of the living room, where the fireplace should have been. On the small altar, curled up, was Yuka.

He was carving the hem of a wooden statue, one stroke at a time, with wood shavings falling like snow, nearly burying his voice.

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, son, don't be afraid."

"Daddy is going to exchange your chance to live."

"Your chance to live... it's just... come to us!"

The moment Yuka turned his head, lightning split the night sky, allowing me to glimpse the true appearance of the statue—it was unmistakably Celeste!

Why was Yuka carving a statue of Celeste, and why was I the "opportunity" for Yumoya's life to continue? A tumult of thoughts flooded my mind, threatening to overwhelm it!

Fortunately, my body reacted faster than my brain, instinctively wanting to flee. But before I could run far, the Pathfinder Bird that Celeste had placed in my pocket suddenly stirred. It spread its wings and soared, heading straight for Yuka, before crashing into something with a thud.

A subtle shattering sound echoed in the air, and then cracks began to form in the surrounding space, which eventually collapsed like shattered glass.

I stood dumbfounded, watching the illusion crumble, revealing the space's true form.

I had never left the first floor; it was still the same living room, the same eerie altar.

The only difference was that the towering wooden statue was gone, and Celeste was now suspended in front of where the statue had been, his head tilted to the side.

He couldn't even maintain his human illusion; his silver hair was disheveled, and his dark robes were stained with blood.

"Celeste!" I cried out, running closer only to find that Celeste's lips were colorless, his skin almost transparent, and he showed no response to my calls.

I reached out and touched the ropes binding him. Once freed from the ropes, he lost his support and fell, and I tumbled onto the altar with him.

"Celeste, Celeste?" I touched his face; it was too cold, the kind of cold that comes with the loss of life.

Was he dead? I wondered in confusion. Celeste was a Guardian; could gods die? But if he wasn't dead, why wasn't he moving?

"Wake up," I wiped the blood from his face and struggled to drape his arm over my shoulder, "I'll take you away from here. You can't die here."

"You came to help me; it doesn't make sense to lose your own life in the process."

"Don't waste your energy," Yuka said, pushing Yumoya in a wheelchair as he emerged from the side. Despite having been declared dead, Yumoya now sat upright in the wheelchair with his eyes open, his body even showing slight movements with each breath.

If it weren't for his ashen complexion and the uncontrollable appearance of death spots reminding me of his demise, I would have believed he was still alive.

Yuka parked Yumoya's wheelchair beside the altar, affectionately stroked his hair, and instructed him to sit still: "Everything will be over soon."

"Over what?" I became alert, blocking Yuka's view of Celeste. I didn't know what Celeste had been through to be tortured like this.

Yuka seemed to see through my thoughts, and that vulture-like, bloodthirsty, cruel laugh echoed once more.

"He shouldn't have the face of a Guardian."

"How do you know what a Guardian looks like?" I stared intently at Yuka.

"It's divine revelation!" Yuka's face showed an intoxicated expression as he gently closed his eyes, savoring a beautiful dream, "I made a contract with the Guardian, and only then did I glimpse His true form in my dreams."

"This is His reward for a loyal child."

I wanted to spit! I wished I could reveal everything about the Soul Realm and the Guardian right now, to show Yuka how foolish he was, but I swallowed my words.

"You've been deceived," I feigned coldness, "Guardians are born to protect humans; there's no such thing as making contracts or equivalent exchanges."

Yuka laughed as if he had heard a great joke: "Everything comes at a price, miss."

"The Guardian is merciful and once solved my troubles without taking anything from me," Yuka caressed Yumoya's face, "My son, the most important person in my life, encountered a calamity. The first time, the Guardian took nothing from me but helped save my son's life."

"I once greedily thought, since my son had regained his vitality and my greatest wish was fulfilled, was it all over?"

"I was willing to believe in the Guardian, I shared His gospel with everyone, I enshrined Him, wasn't that my equivalent exchange?"

"After Yumoya improved, I started to worry about other things: work, love, money... and so on. My wishes were no longer singular, and soon, I was punished."

He crouched down, looking into Yumoya's lifeless eyes, slowly unbuttoning Yumoya's clothes. The boy's thin, pale body was exposed to the air, revealing numerous needle marks and surgical scars.

"Yumoya's illness began to worsen again, and I turned to the Guardian for help once more. The second time, He told me that the greater the wish, the greater the price to pay. He combed through my life and told me that I should live for my son's life."

"At that moment, I had an epiphany, my goal was clear and sharp, I was filled with motivation! I knew, my only wish was to keep my son alive, to exchange my soul for a contract with Him, to use everything I had to fulfill this obsession!"

"At my plea, He accepted my pure soul and showed me the way. To sustain Yumoya's life, more such pure, obsessed souls were needed!"

Yuka gave a fierce tug, and Yumoya's upper garment fell off completely. At the boy's heart, there was a dark hole, from which no blood flowed, only thick black mist churned, like writhing maggots. As it boiled, the black mist dispersed in strands, traveling through the boy's blood vessels to every part of his body.

The boy slowly turned his eyeballs, blinking in my direction. His bloodless lips parted, repeatedly murmuring only the words "Dad" and "I want to live."

He could no longer be called a "person"; he was just a shell propped up by Dark Twilight, his father's doll.

It wasn't pollution or attachment; Dark Twilight had symbiotically merged with Yumoya.

I was horrified but dared not show it, fearing to provoke the father who adored his son, and only wanted to quickly take Celeste away from here.

Although I didn't know how Yuka had found Dark Twilight or how he had made it symbiotically merge with Yumoya, it was clear that my soul was not on Yumoya, and Celeste and I had no reason to stay here any longer. I needed to get him out quickly.

Celeste was still unconscious, his tall frame as heavy as a thousand pounds when still. I gritted my teeth and supported him, slowly moving my feet.

"You can't leave."

Yuka reluctantly shifted his gaze from his son, his viper-like eyes entangling me and Celeste: "You're the star of the show today. If you leave, won't all my efforts be in vain?"

"What do you want to do?" I searched for a new path with the corner of my eye, adjusting Celeste's weight in my hands, praying for him to wake up soon.

"I can see from your eyes that you recognize what that is, don't you?" Yuka leisurely paced, "Are you afraid?"

"I used to live in such ignorance too, until I truly witnessed a miracle! Miss Shen, do you know what kind of power this is? The moment I came into contact with it, I was no longer confused about anything, everything else paled in comparison, only my goal shone brightly!"

"I was filled with motivation, no matter the cost, I had to achieve my goal, can you understand?"

"What does that have to do with us."

Hearing my question, Yuka chuckled lightly: "Gaining such power is not easy. I followed the Guardian's guidance, spreading His gospel to the unenlightened, letting them see what their life's goal was. They developed obsessions, became fanatical, and then generated this power themselves."

"But it's far from enough."

I struggled to digest Yuka's words, which meant that a certain "Guardian"—I'll refer to him as the Guardian for now—had lured Yuka, letting him taste the sweetness of possessing Dark Twilight, making him willingly create more of it.

The gospel he spoke of might be Dark Twilight, as Celeste had once said, attaching to his business card, spreading to more people through the card, making them develop fanatical thoughts. These fanatical thoughts then generated Dark Twilight, collected by Yuka or the Guardian.

It sounded like a complete Dark Twilight production chain, but upon closer examination, it was full of holes: Could Dark Twilight really be manufactured and spread?

I remembered the fragments I had seen in the room earlier; Yumoya must have received the support of Dark Twilight earlier than Yuka had said. If Yumoya's first brush with death was the "sweetness" given by the "Guardian," then where did the Guardian get the Dark Twilight at that time?

But now I had no time to worry about these messy matters; Celeste and I were trapped here. Did Yuka want to use us to make up for the "far from enough" he mentioned?

His speech continued.

"Thanks to the Guardian's favor, I met you," Yuka smiled at me, "I saw the hardships of life in your eyes. I thought you were like them, that I could draw out the most fervent desire from your heart."

I keenly sensed the temperature around us dropping, but there was no visible change. I tensed my body, forcing my attention to focus, wanting to leave this place at any moment.

Yuka rambled on.

"Unexpectedly, unexpectedly, the divine revelation told me that you had already prepared everything for me! I could obtain the purest soul and the most abundant power from you."

In an instant, black mist extended from Yuka's collar, crawling up his neck to his face, like lines of runes, densely packed, almost covering his entire skin.

His hair floated in the gale formed by the black mist, and his skin could no longer contain the increasingly abundant black mist. The mist flowed like water, pooling on the ground and rapidly spreading outward.

Yuka's voice almost turned into a screech: "For my son's life, Miss Shen, please, please go to die!"

The black mist stabbed at me like a blade, and the fear of being stabbed in the park in the past immobilized me, almost making me unable to move.

"Be careful."

A soft, hoarse voice sounded, and I was pulled aside by a force. Celeste stood unsteadily, his head hanging low, as thorny vines rapidly grew, blocking the mist.

"Celeste!" I almost cried.

To stand independently, Celeste seemed to have no strength to even turn his head, just tilting it slightly: "I told you to leave, why didn't you go?"

"Fine, fine," the black mist repelled by the vines dealt a heavy blow to Yuka, who wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, revealing a cannibalistic look, "One has the face of a Guardian, the other is unwilling to selflessly dedicate to me, then you, all go to die!"

The black mist suddenly surged and rose, Yuka's outline almost blurred within it, no longer resembling a human form. The black mist gathered above us, raining down sticky black droplets that sizzled upon landing on the vines, actually corroding the magical vines Celeste had summoned!

Celeste reinforced the defense, grunted, and stumbled, while I was also knocked to the ground by the pressure of the black mist.

"This won't do... we need a more powerful weapon, more powerful..." In my panic, I tried to get up and touched something hard—it was Celeste's brooch! But it looked even duller than before, almost losing all its luster.

Nevertheless, I quickly handed it over: "Celeste, the spirit artifact!"

Celeste was momentarily stunned, then with a flick of his wrist holding the artifact, a lotus appeared before us. However, unlike the first time I saw this lotus, this time it was tightly closed.

"All go to die, all for my son to die," perhaps seeing us take out a new weapon, Yuka became even more insane, his features melting into an unrecognizable form as he muttered, "I am willing to sacrifice myself, as long as you all die for my son!"

In an instant, a gale swept through the room, tearing off the roof, and strands of Dark Twilight flowed out from Yuka's body one after another, shackling me.

They burrowed into my body, then broke through my skin, the heart-wrenching pain forcing me to my knees. No matter how I cried out, even as Celeste's eyes reddened with effort, the lotus remained motionless!

He couldn't use his spirit artifact.

Everything around me slowed down. I saw Celeste, unable to suppress the Dark Twilight any longer, being attacked by it, painfully kneeling, spitting out blood that dripped onto the closed lotus.

Despair took away all my consciousness, the sharp ringing battering my eardrums. I felt the Dark Twilight parasitizing within me through my blood vessels, the bone-chilling cold, and slowly closed my eyes.

I don't know how long it was, but in my daze, it seemed like a familiar voice was chanting, the voice cold, like the stars in the sky.

"Mars resides in the wall, the tail of the dragon, the heavenly stems transform into stars, the three directions see the breath."

"Strange fire, break!"

I struggled to open my eyes, my vision a b****y blur, only seeing cold flames spreading like wildfire, the tongues of fire devouring the Dark Twilight, the world collapsing.

Exhausting the last of my strength, I lost consciousness once more.