Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 185: You are Worthy

DING!

The sound was sharp—like a blade clinking against stone—and it struck right through Liam’s skull.

A translucent screen flashed across his vision, glowing in red with jagged borders, almost vibrating with urgency.

> SYSTEM ALERT

INTRUDER DETECTED – SECOND CONSCIOUSNESS PRESENT

IDENTITY: UNKNOWN

STATUS: COMPROMISED

RECOMMENDED ACTION: INITIATE MENTAL QUARANTINE

The words pulsed ominously.

Liam blinked and exhaled slowly.

He didn’t even flinch.

"No," he muttered under his breath, voice low and hoarse. "I know who it is..."

His hand gripped his chest instinctively, fingers trembling as the system’s alert screen slowly faded out. His heart wasn’t racing from fear—it was racing from overload. The sheer force of Anna’s presence inside him was like trying to hold a storm in a glass jar. She wasn’t violent. She wasn’t trying to take control. But her soul burned with intensity—bright, selfless, firm. And ancient. Older than he remembered her.

It was disorienting.

Two consciousnesses. Two streams of thought.

His own—confused, grieving, angry—and hers... calm, precise, watching everything with terrifying clarity.

Liam staggered slightly, catching himself. A faint throb pulsed behind his eyes, like his skull was too small to house the information pouring in. It wasn’t just feelings—it was memories. Hers. They came like a flood, rushing toward the surface of his mind.

He gasped as the pain hit.

And then it stopped.

A wall slammed down.

Anna was blocking him.

Not now, her voice echoed softly inside him. Not like a whisper in his ear, but as if it rose from his chest.

"Anna—"

No time for memories, Liam. You’ll break. We’ll both break. Later. After this.

Her thoughts were sharp now—focused like a blade being drawn across a whetstone. She’d already seen through his memories. She knew where he’d been. What he’d endured. The Nexus corp’s schemes. All of it.

And she’d made a choice.

We kill him, Liam. That’s the only way.

Liam blinked, his gaze snapping back to the king.

The tyrant had just turned, still gripping the queen’s limp form like a doll. Her blood still dripped from his fingers. The expression on his face was one of bored triumph. He hadn’t noticed the change. Not yet.

He would.

Liam reached for his hip.

Felt the hilt of his blade.

His fingers trembled once, then tightened.

He drew the sword slowly. The sound of steel rasping free echoed through the chamber like a whisper of vengeance.

SHING.

The king turned his head lazily toward the sound.

"What are you doing, boy?" he asked, voice bored, mocking. "Still hoping to be a hero?"

Liam said nothing.

His stance shifted. One foot slid back. His knees bent, weight balanced.

Anna spoke again—calm, cold, ready.

Aim for the core in his chest. That’s where the fragments of his soul are held. It’s a gamble... but we can do it...We can do this, Liam. I’ll guide your hands.

Liam’s eyes narrowed.

His grip tightened.

The air around him shimmered faintly, like heat waves off scorched stone.

And without another word, he moved to strike.

The ground cracked beneath Liam’s feet as he lunged forward, sword raised high, his body moving with a sudden burst of speed that startled even him. His muscles coiled and released like springs, every fiber responding with lethal precision. The air around him whistled from the force of his movement, and for a moment, there was only motion—his blade a flash of steel streaking straight for the king’s chest.

But something was different.

Everything was different.

He felt lighter, yet stronger. The sword felt like an extension of his arm, no longer a burden but a tool, perfectly attuned to his will. The world around him seemed slower, like his eyes and mind had widened—expanded—to absorb every detail. He could see the folds of the king’s robe shifting, the micro expressions crawling over the tyrant’s ancient face. He could hear the queen’s shallow breathing where she lay, tossed aside like a crumpled cloth.

His heart thundered in his chest—but not with panic. With power. With certainty.

He could win this.

He could end this.

But just as his blade closed in, a streak of movement blurred his vision.

The king was gone.

Liam’s blade slashed only air.

Then he felt the shockwave.

A powerful gust slammed into him from behind as the king reappeared just out of range, robes whipping around his body like tattered flags caught in a storm. He stood tall, unbothered, unfazed, with a thin smile cracking across his face.

"I see..." the king muttered, eyes narrowing. "She’s with you."

His voice darkened as he scanned Liam’s form, not with curiosity—but with hunger. Like a beast that had just found the meal it had longed for, only to realize it had grown teeth of its own.

Liam steadied himself, spinning back toward him, sword raised again.

The king’s gaze drifted briefly over Liam’s shoulder—then widened, slightly.

Where Anna had stood moments ago... there was nothing.

Just empty space.

He looked back to Liam.

And in that breath, he understood.

"You took her into yourself," the king said, voice sharp now. "How clever. No... how desperate."

His eyes burned with fury.

"I felt her essence," he spat. "I knew she was near. But now—now it sings from you."

He tilted his head with something between contempt and amusement. "You thought that would save you?"

The king’s fingers curled into claws.

Liam flinched—but didn’t take his eyes off the king.

"Face me," he growled.

The king didn’t wait for an invitation.

In the blink of an eye, he moved—his form becoming a blur, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His fist lashed out, blackened with ancient energy, and Liam barely brought his blade up in time to block. The impact sent a jarring tremor up Liam’s arm, the sheer force of it rattling his bones.

He slid back a full yard before regaining his footing.

The king was already on him again.

Strike after strike came, faster than anything Liam had ever faced. Blows that shattered the air, moves honed over eons. And yet... Liam held on. He blocked, ducked, countered, Anna’s instincts guiding him like ghost hands.

But still—

The king was too strong.

His strength was monstrous, unnatural, the kind that came not from muscle or skill but from something far older. Darker. With every hit, Liam felt the edges of his body begin to fray—his shoulders aching, his ribs burning. It didn’t matter how fast he was now. The king was still faster. He didn’t even try yet.

And yet...

The king was surprised.

He wasn’t the only one changed.

He circled now, not out of fear—but out of curiosity.

"You’re not like before," he muttered. "You’ve tasted her soul. You carry her memory. She has made you strong."

He smiled.

"But not enough."

Liam breathed heavily, sweat pouring down his brow.

Anna’s voice stirred inside him again, calm and firm.

Don’t break. He wants to scare you. He’s still testing you.

Liam nodded softly.

He lifted his blade again, hands shaking.

The king stepped forward, slowly this time, his grin widening.

"And yet... I must admit," he said, voice like silk over venom, "I have never seen one reach this stage. Not in all the centuries."

He raised a hand and pointed at Liam’s chest.

"You," he said, "you are worthy."

Liam blinked.

The king’s tone shifted—lowered.

"I will not let you go."

His eyes glinted with cruel certainty. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"You will be my vessel. My rebirth. And I will burn this world anew in your skin."

Then he lunged again.