I Became An Eldritch Horror-Chapter 27: Faceless (3)

The evening had settled over the city, painting the streets in soft amber light that filtered through the blinds.

I sank into the couch Daniella had insisted I use, letting out a sigh as I pressed my back against the soft cushions. There was something almost absurdly comfortable about it, the way it molded around my body, how the fabric seemed to adjust perfectly to my weight.

After a long time in that damn prison with no sense of time or the luxury of mortality, I was glad to feel this much peace.

The more I felt this way, the less I wanted to destroy the world. But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

It would be even more absurd if, after all this, I suddenly decided to become the "good" guy.

I placed my hand over my face, staring up at the ceiling. "I guess I’m still somewhat mortal if I can hesitate and rethink my decisions."

Still, this was nice. Appreciating the simple things in life, even as an Eldritch being, was a good thing.

I closed my eyes, letting the quiet envelop me.

Sleep wasn’t necessary for a being like me, but from time to time I loved giving myself over to the sensation.

«I can sleep like a mortal.»

The moment I activated my order, I felt my mind wander, my thoughts fading into complete emptiness.

I was dreaming again. A dream that refused to end. A dream that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. And the only thing that stopped me from falling into total madness.

Even though it wasn’t reality, I could still feel the chilling air of the northern territory, Antarctica.

My life had always been ironic. I had promised myself I would never go to Antarctica, not even when I saved Uriel’s world from that idiot. I never visited that place.

Yet I was forced to go there by those damn Outers. A price to pay for destroying a world. Even though they knew three of my crew, including Fate, had died in that incident, they still insisted.

You have to balance out the destruction energy you produced.

Fuck creation. Fuck destruction. Who cared if the world burned? That was what I wanted to say. But for Fate’s dream, I held it back. For my subordinates who fought for justice, I took their insults.

Though technically asleep, I felt my fingers twitch against the couch armrest, and my breathing grew ragged.

Every order had a flaw.

It was common knowledge. Power never came without a cost. And the cost of my order was brutal.

Emotions. Eldritch beings weren’t supposed to understand emotions, but my order amplified mine to the point where it was nearly impossible to suppress them.

If I had gained this order before becoming an Eldritch Horror, I would have died from losing control.

And my flaw didn’t stop there. Not only were my emotions far stronger than anyone else’s, but they intensified whenever I saw my deepest traumas, regrets, or even happy moments.

And during that time, even for a split second, I became mortal.

I held in whatever emotion surged through me at the sight of the snow-coated mountains and frozen lakes.

In that house was a Watcher. She was my servant now, but it didn’t change who she was at her core.

In front of me stood a great wall, so long its end couldn’t be seen from below and so wide no one had ever circled it. An endless barrier of ice and stone.

I lowered my astral projection to observe what was happening.

This was the second step that led to my madness.

In front of the massive gate, there I stood, wearing a simple white shirt with folded sleeves and black trousers. A spear made of pure darkness rested in my hand, and purple flames surged around me.

I remembered this. One of the men who guarded the gate had come to report that a dragon was approaching. It was a rank below mine, strong enough to kill everyone there in an instant.

I wasn’t in my best form either. Fate, someone I loved dearly, had died by my hands, and my emotions were everywhere. No immortality. No full-powered attacks. Just a broken man and a beast.

The Outers had made my mission clear. I was to atone for my sins, for the chaos I had unleashed, by standing against forces far beyond mortal reckoning. And now, as they intended, it had fallen to me alone.

The void creatures surrounding the gate surged forward, grotesque amalgamations of shadow, ice, stone, and other elements. Their forms flickered and twisted, impossible to predict. My spear carved through the first wave, then the second. The cold bit through my gloves as if my flesh were bare.

In that moment, I wished none of it had happened. I wished my flaw wasn’t so brutal. I wished I wasn’t so weak.

My breaths came ragged and uneven, each exhale a cloud of vapor in the frigid air.

Then the mountain dragon appeared, larger than any beast I had ever seen. Its scales were like shards of frozen obsidian, its eyes burning with an almost human intelligence. It lunged at me instantly, frost spraying with every movement, its claws shredding the ground beneath it.

I met its assault, dodging, parrying, countering, my spear slicing arcs of shimmering energy. My eyes glowed bright purple, and my lips moved like I was muttering a prayer.

If Almighty was a prayer, then that was exactly what I was doing.

In an instant, the dragon that had loomed over me like a thousand mountains suddenly felt small, childlike.

A single order was enough to make its scales tear themselves apart.

Using Mysterious World, I created a spear like a universe of its own and prepared to hurl it at the sprawling beast."

The dragon saw me, flapped its wings, and tried to escape. I let it fly, my mistake.

It wasn’t stronger than me, nor did I fear it. Strategy demanded it. Let it reach the peak of its flight, then strike it down with precision so its corpse wouldn’t scare off the void beasts.

It was better for it to die behind our base, right? I was wrong.

A second after it flew past the wall, chaos erupted. The dragon, whose breath gland I had sliced open during the fight, was now releasing waves of freezing air over the camp.

Its breath froze everything it touched, and once frozen, nothing could unfreeze them. That was why it was classified as a god despite being just a dragon.

I should’ve known the father of dragons wouldn’t be easy to kill. I should’ve known cornered beasts were the most dangerous. Instead, I let it slip away.

Its frost cascaded over the walls, freezing everything. I ran, desperate to save my teammates and the soldiers who fought beside me.

Watching it now for the thousandth time, I found it almost laughable that I didn’t snipe it instantly. One of the disadvantages of emotions.

That evening, only eight of my remaining nine crewmates—those who had gone out to get rations survived, while Amelia, my self-proclaimed personal assistant, died.

She was strong, not the best in the crew, but she always did her best. Yet my foolishness led to her death.

Not just hers. Everyone in that base became crystalline corpses.

My hands shook. My chest tightened. The suffocating realization crushed me.

I was alone again.

I had killed them. Even after slaying the dragon, I screamed until my voice broke.

I always believed relationships were useless. I had never officially dated, but three girls were close to that in my life, and two of the three were now dead.

The camp was cold, silent, and lifeless. The wind howled, carrying red snow until everything was buried.

The moonlight dragon had been slain, but everyone was dead. Only I survived.

The dream shattered instantly. I could hear my ragged breaths as my eyes opened.

I jolted upright, my body drenched in cold sweat. The couch beneath me felt impossibly hard now. My chest heaved with each breath, and my mind clawed its way out of the nightmare that clung to me.

Before I could take in my surroundings, my eyes locked onto someone.

Squatting directly in front of me, staring straight into my eyes, was Daniella. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just watched.

"I didn’t know Eldritch Horrors had nightmares," she said, her voice soft with a hint of curiosity.

I wiped my face, trying to steady myself. "Maybe... I was just affected by your intense gaze in my sleep." A half-joke, though it tasted bitter.

Daniella tilted her head slightly, lips curling. "Don’t worry. I was just admiring you. I don’t want to murder you... yet. And honestly, I don’t know how to."

I let out a low chuckle. "I’m not Samson. There’s no way I’d ever tell a woman my weakness, if I had one."

"Did you just laugh?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes," I admitted, leaning back. "Take it as a small price for amusing me a bit. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone’s face the moment I woke up."

She shrugged casually. "It’s my first time coming out for a midnight snack and finding a hot guy on my couch."

I pushed myself upright, brushing sweat from my forehead.

"Do you want to eat something?"

"Fast food?"

She nodded. "Okay."