Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

Chapter 192 The Purgatory Of Flowers



But as though my soul was wrung and thrown into the deepest of hell, darkness devoured me, a foreign yet familiar one—which I doubted that this came from the Frostwrought Mirror that I haven't touched yet.

Right, this feeling was similar to those when my sanity was brought down to zero, or when I was still fully lucid in my visionary dream.

But my Sanity was still 81%, and I was in no way just falling asleep in the middle of fighting the Frostwrought Mirror.

Did another Calamity Object do this to me?

Regardless, I could only focus on what was in front of me at this moment.

Here, my eyes were exposed to a carnage of gold and billowing red.

And all I heard were screams.

"AAAAAAH!"

"They couldn't have possibly abandoned me!"

"I want to go home… I want to go home! Please! Don't drag me away from my one and only home!"

"I curse you all! You who drank the pain that I churned with glee…!"

"Why!? Why am I the one who suffered when they are all the ones who committed it!"

All I heard were screams.

"Nobody believed me…! Nobody believed my truth!"

"Aaaah… Aaaah! It's melting! You're melting my leg!"

"No more! Don't give me any more of those visions!"

All I heard were screams.

"And all fault lies within you, Daffodil!"

Molten gold of comprehensive humanoid form riddled with reddened eyes pointed their gaze and malice to me. My eyes were forced to open for they all saw nothing but a cold and immense nightmare within the darkness that they once chose to hide.

Tendrils of spiked gold lashing their sorrow to me, and I couldn't do anything but let each of those tentacles scratch and mince my flesh as I perceive the truth that was exposed to me.

All of these damned souls who couldn't pass peacefully.

They were once Daffodils.

"How cruel…"

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8,398,489,388,499,958,323 of them let out their guttural shriek and painful plea as they forced their confession into my soul.

293,198,823,093 of them pointed their hate and revelation at me, melting their own eyes from the sheer heat that came from the depth of their heart.

Amongst those who saw me in my pure flesh form, they attempted to take their life by bashing their own head made out of liquid gold onto one another. They tried clawing their face and chest as their reddened gold blood was sprayed to another who had no choice but to bathe in it.

Yet none of them succeeded at killing themselves, as their souls were too corrupted and mangled by their suffering and sorrows.

Since they couldn't kill themselves, they attempted to kill those who were close to them.

"Be free! Be free from this purgatory!!"

"AAAA! I don't want any more pain! Stop this!"

"How many times do I need to plead…!"

"Help me…! I didn't do anything wrong!"

The golden tide of suffering clawed and raged, their anguish a weight that pressed against my very existence. My flesh burned where their tendrils lashed, a cruel reminder that I was no mere observer in this twisted realm. Their voices layered over one another, a cacophony of despair and wrath, each one demanding answers I didn't have.

"Why us, Daffodil? Why always us?!"

"Is this our fate, forever bound to this purgatory?!"

"I cannot see my parents. I cannot see my friends… AAaaa… Aaaaa… My memories are gone! Where is it!??"

Their accusatory cries bore into me, as sharp as the talons of molten gold that shredded my body.

Every shriek, every curse, every plea—they forced their sorrow into me, carving their stories into my soul as though I were some ledger for their agony.

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to give in. To fall to my knees and beg for release. But then, amidst the blinding horror, a realization emerged.

I was Narcissus.

I was not them.

And as long as I held on to who I was, I could fight back.

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the molten spikes that tore at my legs. A defiant roar burst from my throat, louder than I thought myself capable. The weight on my chest lessened, and the gold tendrils retreated momentarily as if startled by my resistance.

"You want me to suffer with you? To drown in your endless pain?" I spat, my voice raw and filled with fury. "Then let me make this clear: I am not you!"

The cries paused, just for a heartbeat. And in that moment of reprieve, from the sea of writhing gold, 'she' emerged.

Her form shimmered, painfully beautiful amidst the chaos—a figure of gold and light, but with features eerily like my own. Her eyes bore a cold, almost human clarity, and the way she moved was too deliberate, too precise. She was a mirror, yet not; a grotesque mockery of everything I was.

"You proclaim yourself free," she said, her voice melodic yet dripping with venom. "But what are you, truly, if not one of us? Another Daffodil destined to wilt in despair?"

The Pristine Daffodil's words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Around her, the molten masses grew still, their attention riveted to our confrontation.

"Fate doesn't interest me," I said sharply, gripping the Skypiercer tightly. "Your suffering, your anguish—it's not my burden to carry."

The Pristine Daffodil tilted her head, a mocking smile playing on her lips. "Not your burden? Narcissus, can you even claim to be separate from us?

"Every Daffodil ends in ruin. Every Daffodil dies screaming.

"Every one of us is fated to suffer immensely until we struggle to claw our way into our death door.

"Every iteration of us attempted to break free from this gruesome cycle, yet they only disappointed us by joining us in this place.

"And soon, you will too."

I took a step forward, defiance blazing in my eyes. "I decide my own end, not some conceptual thing called fate. Not to mention…

"I'm not even Daffodil, so will I even receive the same gruesome fate like all of you?"

The sea of damned Daffodils were riled, with enough fury to drown the entire world.

"Do you, now?" the pristine Daffodil asked, her voice softening, almost pitying. "Then tell me—who are you?"

Her question was simple, yet it struck me like a blade. The air grew heavier as the golden tide began to rise, the molten forms merging with one another until they became an unending sea of anguish behind her.

Continue your journey on empire

Their cries returned, louder than before, a crescendo of torment aimed solely at me.

"Tell me, Narcissus," she whispered, her form shimmering with malice. "Who are you, really?"

The question echoed in my mind. Who was I?

Was I just Narcissus, the ambitious fairy?

Was I Lothair, the human who had taken over this body?

Or was I something else entirely?

Everything appeared blurry, yet they were as influential as anything that I had ever considered.

My identity had been muddled from numerous masks that I forged from my heart. The fireside corner of my soul had grown weak and weary, and only time would tell how much lung the chimney could stay erect.

But despite all of it, I knew my answer.

"I am Lothair," I said, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands. "And I am Narcissus. Both and neither. I am whoever I choose to be, and no one else."

For the first time, the pristine Daffodil's expression faltered. A flicker of something—doubt, perhaps—crossed her features. Then, as if consumed by her own rage, her form began to twist and grow.

Her body warped grotesquely, golden flesh stretching and distorting until it towered over me. Her face became a massive, singular red eye, glowing with a malevolent light. Her voice, once melodic, now resonated with an ancient, guttural wrath.

"You are blind!" she roared, her voice shaking the ground beneath me. "Blind to the truth, blind to the pain you've inherited! Every Daffodil suffers because the world wills it so! You are no different, Narcissus!"

The molten sea surged forward, rising into a towering wave that loomed over me. Tendrils lashed out, each one brimming with anguish, hatred, and despair. Her voice reverberated through the air, a monologue laced with creeping madness.

"Do you even understand the weight of what you are? Of the name you bear? Every Daffodil's anguish has been forged by fate, yet you walk as if untouchable, as if you can escape this cycle! How incredibly foolish, how unmistakably arrogant! Do you think you deserve that much of a privilege!? There is nothing special about you!"

"This is not a matter of whether I'm special or not. This is a matter of forced coercion and an archaic view that fate is rigid and is the constant force of everything!" I gritted my teeth, raising my Skypiercer as the wave bore down on me. "If you think I'll drown in your sorrow, you're wrong. You don't get to decide my story!

"So don't ever think that a mere threat will be enough to make me accept that I'm one of your sorry lot."

"You do not get to escape it!" she screamed, her singular eye burning brighter. "If you will not see, then I will make you! We will take this pain, this anguish, and force it into you!

"We will remind you of everything we have gone through. We will cripple your expectation of the future, and make you wary of the impending doom that you're about to witness…

"We did this for your sake, so that you can prepare and do something about this abusive cycle that chained us down to this place."

The golden wave surged forward, crashing down with the weight of countless souls. I swung my Skypiercer, the blade cutting through the molten tide, but their agony was relentless. Each swing deflected one tendril, only for another to take its place. My arms burned, my strength waning, but I refused to stop.

Forcing pain and suffering for my sake? What a bullshit train of thought.

To think that there would be something that was much more irritating than that stupid prank.

"You think I'll give up?" I shouted, slashing my Skypiercer wildly as the immeasurable wave of torment dawned on me. "You think I'll let you consume me? Not a chance! Not even in a billion years!"

Their cries grew louder, deafening, as if trying to drown out my defiance.

The Pristine Daffodil, now fully demonized, towered above me, her eye fixated on my struggling form.

"We are Daffodils," she intoned, her voice a symphony of despair. "And you… you are no different. You will fall, as we have, and you must be aware and wary of this truth."

"Then fall," I spat, swinging my Skypiercer in a wide arc that severed several tendrils and haunting damned Daffodils that leaped to strangle me to the depth of the abyss. "But I'll keep standing."

The wave recoiled momentarily, as if stunned by my resolve. But it was short-lived. The molten tide rose higher, their forms converging into a singular, massive entity that loomed over me like a god of sorrow.

""You cannot resist us forever,"" the voices said in unison. ""You are Daffodil.""

Their final assault came with all the force of their collective anguish, a tidal wave of gold and red that sought to swallow me whole. I braced myself, my Skypiercer glowing with a fierce light as I swung it with every ounce of strength I had left.

The impact was blinding. Their cries, deafening. And as their emotions crashed into me, I felt myself slipping—slipping into their sorrow, their pain, their despair.

But I held on.

I held on to who I was.

As the light faded, the golden sea began to dissolve, its forms melting into nothingness. The Pristine Daffodil's voice rang out one last time, quiet yet filled with an unsettling certainty.

"You are Daffodil," she whispered, her red eye dimming as her form began to crumble. "You cannot escape it if you make a mockery of all of us who died before you."

The voices of the countless Daffodils joined hers, their words echoing in my mind as the darkness closed in once more.

""All you hear are screams.""


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