"Do you want me to kill you?" Kesna asked, intrigued. The man in front of him didn't seem depressed, though he didn't look entirely healthy either. "Why?"

"Does it really matter? Shouldn't you be trying to attack me in every way? Why does it feel strange when I ask you to do it?"

"Well, supposedly, dear man, you shouldn't want it. This means there must be something advantageous for you in requesting such a thing. Maybe you have a power that can return the damage to me or, perhaps, you're trying reverse psychology to make me retreat out of fear."

"How unfortunate for me, to encounter such a cautious person. So, shall we just stand here? I don't have a deck of cards to pass the time, you know?" Kesna laughed at the archer's comment. He had now planted a seed of paranoia in the deceived man's mind, and internally, he began to panic. Until he realized that this wasn't going anywhere; he just needed to be cautious. He wouldn't be in danger no matter what happened.

"Alright, standing still is what we'll do." After uttering this lie, the man's throat seemed to constrict and his cheeks puffed up for a second. In pure reflex, John grabbed his bow and jumped from his chair just in time to dodge a spray of purple liquid from Kesna's mouth. The liquid corroded the chair completely as it fell onto the object.

"Wow, you're quite the sneaky guy."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." said the general while wiping the liquid from his lips. "I just felt unwell for a moment; I apologize if I startled you. I didn't mean to dirty your chair. But hey, didn't you want to die? Was all that a bluff?"

The viper's cynicism was evident. The deceived man didn't even try to hide his malicious intentions; he just wanted to see if he could confuse John. On the other hand, John was not at all surprised by the man's actions. He was a crafty and cowardly trickster who attacked by surprise to kill. This had already become evident to the archer.

"I never said I wanted to die. I only asked you to attack me to kill."

"Well then..." From the silent world they were in, a noise began to emerge, like hundreds of cicadas singing, the noise of rattles moving, and scales colliding. From the corners of the humble houses, a group of snakes began playing their venomous symphony, emitting a purple vapor from their mouths. The vapor danced to the melody, creating a nebulous ballad in the air, circling Kesna and forming a kind of smoke screen between the two.

John held his breath and ran, not knowing the effects of this. It could be instant death as far as he knew. The man had planned to awaken his powers by putting his own life at risk. The problem was, he was actually putting his life at risk. He wanted to tread the edge of the precipice but not fall into it. An enemy using poison could be the worst or best possible answer. If the poison killed slowly, it would be perfect; if it was instant, it would be terrible. But then came the other side of the story: even if he awakened his powers near death, he would end up dying from the poison sooner or later, especially given his not very resistant metabolism.

Just those brief steps he had taken to get away from the snakes had already worn him out. It wasn't just about moving away; he had to dodge the strikes coming at him. The snakes emerged from the ground, leapt from hidden alleys, and there seemed to be no limit to how many could be created or from where; they just appeared as Kesna wanted. But he still had about thirty arrows in his quiver, not to use them to attack, but just to shoot and kill the snakes that left him with little chance to escape.

As he had distanced himself considerably from the smoke screen and the nest of snakes, he began to think. What were the pros and cons of this opponent? First, his personality: well, one of the pros was that he didn't have to worry about holding back or whether his enemy would hold back. That man was very direct in his intention to kill. However, he was also being too direct; he seemed cunning and cautious enough not to act this way. Hiding in a column of smoke and sending minions to attack was something he expected, but he still anticipated more surprise attacks.

Now about his powers: if the poison had a delayed effect, it would be perfect for what he wanted, especially now that he had a practical theory on how to defeat that serpent man. But the problem lay in the case that his theory might be wrong and not defeat the man immediately, extending a fight where time was against him. And even if his plan succeeded and he managed to kill the man, he would still be poisoned with no antidote. Creating an antidote would be complicated, especially without knowledge of the properties of the snakes' poison, if all used the same type of poison, and even if they did, he would need time to study.

It was a chemical, probabilistic problem, but it also depended on his physical aptitude and how long he could tolerate the poison, not to mention the literal supernatural context. Sometimes powers did not follow the logic he believed in, and there were no guarantees that the power he would awaken would be the same as he thought. That was if it awakened at all; Emily had been an exception to the rule, so why couldn't he be? Was there even a rule? If he wasn't 100% sure of his theory, he could die. That was assuming no other enemy would interfere during the fight or appear after it. There were so many "what ifs," so many buts and probabilities; it didn't make sense to risk a fight where there was no chance of winning. Fighting without powers wasn't an option, fleeing was a maybe, and fighting to awaken his powers was also...

The ground then began to tremble, and as he noticed the floor losing its structure, he leaped out, dodging a huge group of snakes that burst from the ground. The man fled without stumbling, trying to synchronize the speed of his thoughts with his legs. More snakes emerged from corners and attacked from all sides. John was already feeling his legs weaken from exhaustion; moving back and forth wasn't his strength. There were other snakes that emitted a toxin similar to the one Kesna had, except these didn't seem to corrode anything, and the poisonous smoke screen moved through the village, making him stay alert when holding his breath. More and more variables were entering his equation, and he sought a round number to solve them all, refusing to accept a broken number.

"How long will you keep fleeing?" echoed the general's voice while the poisonous gas continued to drift behind the archer. "I'm glad to be facing a rational partner, but a mere human cannot defeat me. My nature makes my skills hide me while my snakes handle the rest. Even if you shoot an arrow, the gas around me will conceal me with mastery."

"So... you're a coward..." the archer murmured between breaths, feeling his head grow hot from thinking so much. But as he spoke those words aloud, he realized that the man did the same. The reason he had chosen a bow as a weapon was precisely because of the distance; he wasn't confident in hand-to-hand combat, so he chose the weapon that best covered his weakness.

John knew a lot about chemistry, biology, history, geography, physics, and even mathematics. When asked, he couldn't say where all that information came from. Since he was a child living in an orphanage, he had always been ahead of the other children. Throughout his life, the man had never cried even when he was sad. He had never shouted even when he was angry. He felt emotions but never displayed them; he never felt the need, as he saw no sense in losing control. A thought that everything should always be under his control...

A bow to stay protected, calm to stay controlled, always questioning everything, except why he knew or questioned things. Just as he didn't risk talking to Stuart to avoid offending his friend, or avoided interacting with others due to headaches... Thinking about it, it was as if he didn't want to exist; he wanted to be ignored, but at the same time, he felt he should take care of everything. After all, he always remained calm and had everything under control. He was so rational that he always sought the path with a 100% chance of victory, at any cost.

He was as big a coward as the viper in front of him. Doing everything to escape pain was doing everything to avoid living. Desperately fleeing from pain was not wanting to exist. What was ironic was that he was here trying to avoid dying while only knowing how to live in an non-existent manner. Living and existing were different. John and Kesna were alive, but were they existing? Looking at their past scenes, did they stand out? Or were they just... there?

The only thing that still allowed John to exist was his confidence and pride in his deductions. He was sure of what he knew, so being insecure if he was right out of fear of dying was denying himself. He should have confidence in his deductions and act. So John allowed himself to be bitten by the snakes. He stopped and let them coil around him and sink their fangs into his body. The pain was agonizing; they pierced his skin and muscles, and he had to fall to his knees as the snakes tangled his legs.

"Are you crazy? Just giving up like that? I thought we were alike."

"If... I were like you... I could never defeat you... But look..." The archer raised his bow with great difficulty; there were already purple bruises on his body, the poison was spreading too quickly. But it was alright, defeat the enemy first, then think about a solution for the other problem. His lungs felt like they were tearing each time he breathed, his heart with every beat, and blood was already dripping from his lips. He was dying. But it was what was needed. He pulled the string of his bow without placing an arrow on it. "The perfect power... for such a meticulous archer..." And on his bow, Kesna saw a fire arrow appear, but he was not afraid, after all, there was no way he could hit him through all that poisonous gas.

John didn't shoot a fire arrow, but two arrows. The second arrow was invisible to the naked eye, as it was made of gas. He shot them so that when the two were close to the gas curtain, they would meet and cause an explosion, dissipating the gas with great force. And so it was.

When the curtain disappeared, Kesna still didn't understand. The perfect power for a meticulous archer, the ability to create arrows of any necessary material, for 100% victory, to use everything he knew and was familiar with in combat. But Kesna also had one more power to use, as he sought the most secure victory. In a moment, everything went dark; all light was rejected. He couldn't hit what he couldn't see.

Once again, with his skin burning from within, John created another arrow, this time made of light. It wasn't strong enough to illuminate everything, but for the man known as Eagle-Eye, it was nothing. It wasn't magic; the man had only excellent vision. Why? He didn't know. In the dark, even a single light was enough for him to see everything as clearly as day. And the arrow flew swiftly, in a shot so fast that the deceived didn't even notice. The arrow flew straight and struck the cobra in Kesna's head, splitting it in two.

"B-But... how...?" were the words the cobra said as it flew and Kesna's body dissolved into a corrosive liquid that melted everything. "How did you know I was the right body?"

The reason John knew was that Kesna's first attack had been completely carefree, as if he wasn't afraid of the attack coming back at him. And that being the only cobra that never leave his side made him suspicious. John's deductions were all correct. The darkness lifted, and all the snakes vanished, while the head of the cobra turned into a gray light and transmitted itself as courage through all times and spaces.

The virtue of courage danced through the air, and as cruel as it was, it revealed to all it touched in the heart, their fears.

The virtue, upon touching John's heart, made him see nothing for a while. For his heart was dead to his fears. The archer knew that everything and everyone could be dangerous, but exactly because he saw the danger, he was confident he could avoid it. His reason did not allow him to feel fear, only caution. Until it showed him a person he had never seen in his life, a Japanese man, wearing scientist clothes and round glasses, with a stern expression.

He remained confused, but the effects of the poison still running through his body made him vomit blood and distract him from it. If courage couldn't find something he feared, then it made him see something he would fear.

James saw Helena dead, a possibility. Stuart saw Lindsay dead, a memory. What torments more? The fear of something that might happen or the fear of a memory that won't go away?

Clark felt hated, Pedro felt alone, Emily felt abandoned, and Helena... saw herself, terrified of what she might have done or could do. This discomfort irritated her greatly; she was stressed and furious. Why was this happening to her out of nowhere? Why did she suddenly start seeing all these things?

She was so enraged that she punched a wall, again, and again, and again, until her fist broke. Until she cried. What hatred, what rage. WHAT WAS HAPPENING?

And the desperation of these four, who were in the same place, caught the attention of a creature that lives by fear.

Lalá saw her sister and then stared angrily at the gray sphere that appeared on another table:

"So this is it, Amanda? You want me to gather courage to defeat her? Do you know how hard it is? She is my own sister... we are parts of the same being, I can't just attack her. No one is as brave as you; when will you learn that?"

Lysa saw herself losing and people dying because of her fault. Now that she had lost Emily, this fear only grew. She ran searching for someone and found the archer on the ground, dying.

"John? JOHN? What happened?" Blood had already formed on the man's mouth, his eyes were wide, his whole body was bruised and injured. The child began to cry, thinking she was losing him, and in her fear, she touched him. As her skin touched his, both began to glow, and the bruises started to fade, breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. The injuries did not heal, but his body was purified of all toxins.

Slowly, the man stood up; neither of them understood what had happened, but Lysa didn't care. She hugged him, crying, happy not to have lost him.

"Lysa, why are you crying?"

"I thought you were going to die."

"But I didn't die. No need to cry about that..." The girl tried but couldn't stop crying, only feeling embarrassed. That crying bothered the archer, after all, he was still exhausted and didn't need all that noise in his head making his headache worse. But he took a deep breath and let it pass this time; he wouldn't be able to make her quiet even if he wanted to. "... Are you alone?"

"I... I was with Emily... but we went into one of those portals and then I was here alone..."

"You're hurt..." From this, he deduced that she had fought and, from that, deduced that she had awakened new powers, and from that, deduced that it was she who had saved him. Then he thought, how convenient that she appeared when he needed her the most.

JAMES

James was distressed; out of nowhere, he began to think about his past, and then a great fear of losing Helena arose in his heart. What was happening in that place? It felt like his head was breaking and reforming, and he couldn't keep up with his own thoughts.

Walking through the streets of London, James then began to hear the ringing of a bell. The man followed the sound to a nun, in yellow habit, who, with closed eyes, chanted:

"Come all, hear the word I have prepared for you. Life is hard, but if you are faithful like Daniel, Moses, and Elijah, you will not be abandoned. The word I have for you can give you strength, teach you to love, so do not hide or be troubled for your sins can be forgiven; you only need to come here and listen to me." The woman's expression was cheerful and good-natured; she wasn't embarrassed to move her arms as if calling children to join her. The man, intrigued, approached with curiosity. But when she saw James, her face closed off, and the woman sighed heavily, making the man stop midway. "Ah, an old man. Of course, I had to meet an old man."

"What? Is that how you speak to others? Especially after that whole speech..." The woman smiled with great mockery and replied:

"You're all the same with your sermons... if you weren't saved after becoming moribund, then you can no longer be saved. Now go away. I have no word for those like you." James remained in absolute silence, unable to believe what he was hearing; the level of selfishness in those words was unbelievable.

"Okay, when they told me about enemies wanting to destroy the world with their superpowers, someone like you was the last thing I expected. Since these supernatural events began, everything became confusing, especially with my faith, and with all this talk of monks, chosen ones, virtues, gods, and deceived, I felt increasingly like I was hanging by a thread, not knowing what to think. But you, as surprising as it is, are a familiar environment to me. Even if I find you strange, you are talking about what I learned. I've never attacked a nun before, but with you, I can make an exception."

"A Christian? I thought all of you would be extinct in this world, but attacking a nun? What blasphemy, aren't you afraid of divine punishment?"

"And why would I suffer divine punishment for attacking a nun?"

"Are you senile, sir? For you are threatening to attack a holy woman of God."

"HA!" The man shouted with much cynicism. Mordame didn't like that disrespectful attitude towards her, but she didn't lose her smile; she couldn't lose her composure so easily again. "Just as being a Pharisee didn't stop them from attacking Jesus. Wearing a conservative outfit is no proof of your worth. 'Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.'"

"Tsc." Recognizing the text she had read her entire life, Mordame looked at him with disappointment. "So you know the scriptures..."

"I told you, it's something I learned. My best friend was a pastor, and I am a Christian, even though this whole world has turned into chaos. And I tell you, there is no holiness in what you say. People like you are nothing new to me."

"You really do enjoy distorting the truth, don't you? Ungodly people like you so enjoy generalizing and belittling a person of God? Just because I chose to live a life of humility and submission, you like to judge and distort what I say, right? Aren't you ashamed of your sinful acts?"

"I am, but what about you? Aren't you ashamed of manipulating others to feel sorry for themselves or using the sacred scriptures to judge them at will? This Word is not yours to decide who can or cannot hear it. It is not yours to have 'prepared' it. No one needs to come hear you, but God. For all of His Word is inspired by Him, whether to teach or to rebuke. He is the one who prepares and preaches, not you."

Mordame gritted her teeth and clenched her fists tightly. Did he want to teach her how to be a Christian? Did some old man think he could belittle her?

She raised her hands, and a shepherd's staff appeared. The nun, striking an imposing pose, stared at James and gripped the staff even tighter.

"You miserable old man. I will show you that you do not mess with the holy, and you will burn."