Victor clenched his fist tightly. There was no way that monster would keep its promise, but he was already here, and there was nothing he could do except take part in Richard Graves’ twisted game.
"Damn all of you..." he whispered.
Seeing the gods enjoy his story as nothing more than simple entertainment frustrated him immensely. He wanted to calm down so he could think rationally, but the fact that they kept commenting through the System window only made him angrier.
As if the flames of rage were about to consume him, Victor pressed his forehead against the tree trunk and squeezed his eyes shut. Wearing the Boy Scout uniform and seeing its patches had reminded him of something he’d learned about how to calm himself down.
You had to lean on something, because that would be the only true support that wouldn’t let you fall when things got really bad. Then you closed your eyes and thought about anything, whether it was counting numbers or talking to yourself.
If you did it right, the desperation, anger, or resentment would gradually begin to fade.
Once he felt calmer, Victor sighed and opened his eyes, only to find the countdown right in front of him. Two minutes had passed since he’d tried to calm himself down, but seeing the timer continue to tick down sent his stress levels skyrocketing all over again.
’If that bastard doesn’t kill me, the anger I’m feeling right now will.’
The thought of having to wander through his memories in search of something disgusted him. Sure, they wouldn’t be entirely his memories, but the idea of someone using his own life as a weapon against him made him furious.
Regardless, he tried to keep himself under control and looked around.
’This place... It’s exactly how I remember it. Even the poorly placed patches on my sash.’
The level of detail was disturbing.
As he made his way through the forest, Victor knew exactly where he needed to go. It wasn’t much of a maze if you knew your destination, after all. The problem arose when the place shifted into memories that didn’t belong to him.
He would have to work hard to find Brika and escape this unpleasant mental control.
Then he emerged from the forest and came across a group of children dressed just like him, who greeted him without hesitation. Victor ignored them and walked past, since there was something he needed to do.
He picked up a rock from the ground, approached the slides, and waited there in silence. The place itself was the typical park near his home, with slightly overgrown grass, children and their families spending time together, and the occasional couple being annoying to everyone around them.
What mattered was why Victor was waiting there. This was one of those memories he found difficult to relive, as it was one of the reasons he’d become the person he was today.
A couple of seconds passed before a man dressed in black and wearing a hood suddenly appeared, holding a gun and pointing it at the people in the park.
The people’s screams froze him in place, but when he felt his life was in danger, Victor raised the rock. As the man passed near the slide, he jumped down and struck him in the head with it.
The man immediately collapsed, dazed, but Victor silently leaped down from the top, his expression darkened by the memory, and landed face-first near the gun the man had dropped.
The man got back up and reached for his weapon, but Victor grabbed the gun and, without hesitation, fired, killing him on the spot.
A deathly silence fell over the park. Victor breathed heavily as he lay on the ground. He stared at the blurred sky of the memory, waiting for something to happen, but there was nothing except silence.
’Looks like this isn’t one of those memory mazes where you move forward after overcoming certain things.’
No matter how long he waited, nothing happened.
[The god "Serpent That Bites Its Own Tail" celebrates the death of the man with the gun.]
[The god "Fisher of Opportunities" wants to know how you feel.]
[The god "President of the Snows" crosses its arms, waiting for you to do something.]
’And these guys aren’t helping at all.’
Still a little dazed, Victor sat up, but froze when he realized there was no one nearby. So, what was he supposed to do to get out of the memory? Could it really be as simple as just walking forward, or was it?
A few seconds later, Victor found himself walking through the forest again.
"It makes no sense to recreate that moment from my life if it’s not going to serve any purpose," he said, addressing the Wendigo, who was surely watching him with a huge grin beneath its sinister cow-skull mask.
[An unnamed god wants to know what was really happening inside that memory.]
Victor stopped when he saw the message. The countdown was still ticking down, and he didn’t have time to answer questions, so he remained silent as he made his way toward somewhere significant deeper in the forest. However...
[The god "Serpent That Bites Its Own Tail" is curious as well.]
[The god "Fisher of Opportunities" thinks this might be a good opportunity for you to open up.]
[The god "President of the Snows" has no idea what’s going on.]
[The god "President of the Snows" asks for some context about the story so far.]
Victor sighed. It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose by telling them. They were gods, and if they were capable of creating this game, they were probably just as capable of getting inside people’s heads with ease.
For now, he limited himself to saying one thing:
"They killed one of my Boy Scout friends."
He continued walking deeper into the forest, where everything gradually grew darker. However, he frowned because, aside from the gods having gone quiet, he felt as though something was whispering into his ear.
He looked behind him and found a floating eye, completely motionless.