CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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an end

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an end

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The silence was consuming and suffocating.

Everything around her was pitch black. Time seemed nonexistent in the place she had been transported in.

"Y/N."

Light started emerging from the darkness, naturally, she followed it.

"Where am I?" She called out to the light.

"You're in a place where time is constantly changing whilst not moving at all," the voice paused, "A place of knowledge."

"Knowledge?" she frowned. "How can I get back to my own world?"

The light didn't seem to be getting closer no matter how much she walked towards it.

"Why would you wish to return?" The voice questioned her, "Here, you can obtain the knowledge to solve all your problems."

She frowned at the voice, "Knowledge can't help my problems."

"It can be your cure."

She halted her tracks at that statement, a cure?

"Interested, I see," the light started to fade, "To obtain such knowledge you only need to open your mind."

Y/N's eyes widened when she saw the light fade, "Where is the light going?" she called frantically, "Why is it disappearing?"

"Allow us to give you our gifts," the voice offered, sickly sweet.

Y/N shook her head, "I don't want it," she huffed, "I only want to get back to my world and stop the ceremony."

"We can fulfill your desires," she could hear the smile in the entity's voice, "You only have to let us in."

"I am not greedy for knowledge," she boldly stated, "I only wish to return to my world. That is the only knowledge I seek."

The voice was starting to get on her nerves, she didn't want the Megamycete's gifts she wanted to be home and she wanted her family back. Sadly, only one of those would be possible.

As she continued to deny the entity's request the light grew brighter and brighter.

"I refuse to become a puppet in your absurd hive mind."

🦋

"My daughter... My Y/N!" Miranda screamed in agony as her body started to crumble.

Ethan watched as the creature finally went down. Fighting Miranda gave him more cuts and bruises than his entire time in the village. To add more salt to the wound it seemed as if she never stopped mutating. A part of him thought she might spring up again.

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