The Regressor's Oath

The moment Mikhail felt the surroundings change, he also started hearing them.

Spirits.

Even with his eyes closed, the darkness in front of his eyes started to subside now.

It gave way to a bright light that illuminated his whole surroundings, which were now in the form of a bright desert.

'Hmm?'

He was now seated in the middle of a long and cracked railway track, one that parted through the sands into the far light.

The heat immediately assaulted his thick clothes and bandages and the bright sun made him squint his eyes.

Wherever he turned to see, there was nothing but sand all around.

However, not for long as he suddenly heard a booming sound from behind.

CHING!

The sound of a train, tearing through the air at unmeasurable speeds.

But despite the nearing danger, Mikhail felt no sort of nervousness.

Carefully, with one sharp motion, he turned his head back to see the train.

Only to find it an inch away from his face, about to send him flying when suddenly..

CHING! WHOOSH!

The moment it connected with him, the train disappeared into a wisp of smoke.

Mikhail felt nothing.

But then suddenly, he felt a booming noise of the train ramming into him from behind.

BOOM!

Mikhail felt pain coursing through his whole body and his brain screamed to dive forward.

Fortunately for him, he had been through this before.

It was all fake.

Bearing through the pain, Mikhail ignored the urge to dive and remained rooted in his place, despite the threatening voice from behind.

The pain continued for a good minute before suddenly disappearing, along with the scene.

As it did, Mikhail heaved a large sigh of relief.

'Bring it on.'

From the corner of the darkness, he heard a group of hysterical shrieking laughs.

"Oh ho, we have an interesting prospect. Hehe."

The next moment, the voice suddenly came right beside his ear and a painful sensation of nails dragging across his back was felt.

***

[In the Lab]

Emily gazed at the screen curiously, seeing Mikhail's progress.

"23. 24."

She turned to a member beside her, who focused on another screen.

"What's the heartbeat?"

"It's still stable at 74 but we can see signs of rise."

Emily tapped the pen against her chin turning back to the monitor that displayed the inside of the room.

"Hmm, I see. Impressive as always. Most people would start breaking by now."

On the screen, she could see the dark room with Mikhail sitting in the center with his eyes closed.

The illuminated circle lit up Mikhail's face, which was currently a peaceful calm.

There were no signs of distress or frowns on his face. But then again, it was just the start.

At least for him.

Emily turned to another member on the other side.

"Any changes in his body?"

The reply came instantly.

"Nothing yet. Stable as ever, he's taking it very well."

Emily nodded, turning her gaze quickly back to the screen.

"Of course he is, he's Mikhail."

***

[After a couple of minutes]

Light gasps escaped from Mikhail's sweaty face now.

'Annoying spirits.'

His gaze went down to his bandaged arms, or at least what they formerly were.

Now, the bandages had been ripped and blood and flesh dripped all over his arms.

Stabs of pain coursed through his whole body from time to time, making his face scrunch.

Leg first.

"Tch!"

Then suddenly, his shoulder.

"Argh!" Mikhail gritted his teeth.

The shrieking laughter from time to time right by his ear and then away were making his control slip away.

Suddenly..

SCREECH!

A tearing scream echoed in his right ear, making his body convulse with instinct to close his ears.

Unfortunately, it slipped away from his control.

His chest pressed heavy against him as a tearing pain tore through his abdomen, like a spear had ripped through him.

"Argh!" He collapsed to the floor.

Struggling to breath with the increasing pain, Mikhail felt his consciousness slipping.

'What is this?'

He couldn't understand.

How long had it been?

5 minutes? 6 Minutes?

How much of a score would be for this amount of despair?

39? 40.

'P-pathetic.'

This was way lower than his usual attempts, so why was he struggling?

Why was he struggling even after a life full of despair behind his back this time?

Why was he so unfamiliar with despair after all the loss he had sustained in his previous life?

After going through all those struggles and pain in the outer world, he was struggling with this?

What about the despair when he witnessed his squadron right in front of him?

When despite the oath to always protect them, he was helpless as he watched the beasts devour them?

Incomparable. Nothing could describe what Mikhail felt at that moment.

What about all those days that he spent in the harsh snow, watching himself wither to death?

When all he could see with his fading vision was the strewn bloody bodies of his death, slowly rotting away?

WHAT OF IT!?

'Pathetic.'

PATHETIC!

'Disgusting. Despicable. Trash. Pathetic. Bullshit.'

Was this all that he could amount to after all that pain and despair?

Was this all he could show for what he went through?

Was this it!?

'NO!'

No. This wasn't his relation with despair.

They weren't strangers. No. They were far from it.

If he was an orphan, then despair was his adopter.

If he was helpless, then despair was his helper.

If he was hungry, then despair was his feeder.

If he was crying, then despair was his relief.

If he was screaming, then despair was his soother.

In whatever situation he was in, despair had always been with him.

It was always there for him to embrace.

It was his friend. His other half. His mentality.

So how could he come here and then despair like he didn't even know what it was.

No. This wasn't it.

It wasn't how it was going to work.

It wasn't who he was.

He was the friend of despair.

The student of despair.

The son of despair.

The lover of despair.

He was Mikhail Hendrix, One Who Withstands Despair.

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