BornAndTorn 40 Digging A Hole 2

I did not have to worry about my head or body being crushed, because the hole I dug was not deep enough for that. This also serves as a test to the feasibility of whether my plan to enter a village by digging comes into fruition or not. Although it was quite a mundane work, it was quite fun. Especially if you loop the sound of digging the hole in your head.

As my inner countdown pa.s.ses the 300 I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my hands and legs. It only took an instant and my otherwise tough body parts were pulverized. I did not expect the pressure to be that strong. So, for the time being, I am just going to wait and see what happens if my body parts keep being pressured like that. The level of pain was not regressing but not increasing either, that means that my nerves are still sending signals.

But if I learned something from observing the experiment with the hair, the slime is able to change into a substance that is able to ward off data of different properties. That means that theoretically, my hand should be able to reform. Followed by being crushed in the next instance, that process will continue on forever. Did I miss something? I can already see the little ants starting to tear everything else down to gather more potential energy for me.

Until my body is ready to withstand that kind of pressure, it needs to be crushed quite often. There are several ways to approach this. I am going for the most efficient one. I will wait till my hand are durable enough and then proceed to dig deeper. I will repeat that process until my whole arm has reached such a level. I will do this to each of my limbs and then start doing it to my upper body. Though I have to be careful not to crush my heart and inner organs in the process otherwise everything is going to be for nought.

The only downside is that this plan will leave me stuck here for quite some time and the general destruction of the environment might bring unwanted attention.

Due to my inability to dodge attacks, I am currently vulnerable if the magic is strong enough. That is why I have to take some risks and do this as fast as possible. Though I still do not have any idea how to prevent my head or body from being crushed under this heavy pressure. But I will surely find something, after all, I do not have that much planned for today anyway.

The cycle of crus.h.i.+ng limbs resumed without a hitch. Many ideas came and were thrown out of the window. One plan was to open a hole in my body and then grab onto the heart and the organ responsible for the production of that wonder slime. That idea would only particularly strengthen my body, but I have no clue in what way my body would react. So my next option was to pressure in a pa.s.sive manner. I would put my part of my head into the soil at first and cover it with my hands. That way it would not be crushed but would still be hurt through the pressure. That is at least how the plan works in theory.

Those were the ideas that were at the least sound on paper. Now a quick list, what was rejected the instance it came up as a possibility.

-Putting my head directly in.

-Burying my whole body inside of it, except the head

-Digging a hole with my exact shape so that I could put my organs outside of my body to prevent them from being crushed.

-Creating an armour made out of stone

-Covering my head in slime

-Crus.h.i.+ng my head, the moment before the Earth reforms.

-Crus.h.i.+ng my head partially without any cover

-Putting other materials around me

All those options would theoretically work but were rejected due to several reasons. They were either not helpful or the risks involved were too big or just plain stupid.

I settled on covering my head with the hands, It might sound risky but I can guarantee that at least it will not end up with me dying on the spot.

It took a lot of time until my hands were not crushed on the spot, only deformed to such an extent that it had no resemblance to its normal shape. I started to put my arm dig the hole deeper until my arm was swallowed. Even though the process was gruelling and painful at least there was a feeling of accomplis.h.i.+ng something as I saw the progression.

As I looked ahead I noticed it, these eyes were staring at me. I shuddered upon seeing whom those eyes belonged to. It was the queen ant that looked quite livid. It hit me like a truck, I forgot to consider her. I am glad not having crushed her due to my attempt at becoming a mole. Her eyes were pa.s.sing all over my body and there was not the same feeling of perplexion. There was a certain feeling of numbness to her. Yeah, it was the same glaze my parents had when looking at me. They had given up on me. You could see the deep feeling for regret in their eyes, always caught in the past on what could have been.

Great now even ants have given up on me. I will put it on my list of glorious accomplishments.

If I could speak to her I would apologize for my oversight, but sadly or luckily for me It is not possible for me to talk to her right now. I am not yet ready to be verbally murdered for all the s.h.i.+t I did. in her eyes I must be a suicidal madman, that acts irrationally and is much more dangerous to himself than others. Even though she is right, that does not mean that I need someone to remind me of that fact. Ignorance is bliss after all.

I tried to spice things up a bit, bit letting fingers and toes get crushed separately, to have some sort of variety. I have no clue, how a sane person could do this over and over again without going insane and turn into a murderous machine without a hint of pity left. Having lost the grip on reality long ago they keep the cycle of endless violence alive. But no they are not wrong, it is the world that is wrong. Here they are only trying to survive, but its the world that forced them.

But you still have to root for them, you witness it all. All the anguish he must have felt, the feeling of powerlessness until he finally saved the bride, saved the universe, saved the fate of humankind. The cruel enemies are long forgotten and only a particle of dust. In the end, good will always prevail.

But with a simple switch of perspective, the hero turns into a ruthless killer. Imagine the story follows the life of a simple guard. A simple man, no hidden legacy or power inside of your body. Wife and children at home and you work for the local power guarding their entrance. You worked long and hard until you got the job. Your family relies on your hard-earned money to survive. Each day pa.s.ses without much trouble. But from time to time you start dreaming about the glorious lifestyle of the wealthy people. Deep down you are sure that even though such a life seems easy on paper, it has its own set of rules and difficulties. In the end, you just want to live a happy life and prepare your children for the future as best as you can.

But all these plans are for nought because the local power angered someone so much, he comes running at your door, vowing to extinguish everyone. You do not even know the reason, you are just a small fry guarding the entrance. At first, you are trying to persuade the young men not to throw his life away, because in your eyes that endeavour is suicidal. You do not want to attack, but you do not want to lose the income that your family needs, so you lift your weapons and attack him. You have pity with him, but you have to guard the entrance.

You try to make it as quick and painless as possible, but your opponent just scoffs at your attempts. He wounds you heavily with ease and as you lie there helplessly on the ground you hear him talking down to you. In the end, you are just a mere stepping stone an example that he wanted to make. If he is feeling manigimous, you can live on as a cripple or you die on the spot. Your family is going to suffer regardless.

The End

Everyone is pretty sure that this guard must have given his life with a smile on his face knowing he would die to the saviour of the universe. Everyone will glorify him, while you, the poor victim of circ.u.mstance, will soon be forgotten.

Did the man free his childhood friend out of the evil clutches of the young Master, that fancied her? Would n.o.body dare to start trouble after he had extinguished the whole family in his fit of rage?

Or did the young Master get scared and just let her go, after your death?

The outcome is of no concern for you because, in the end, your fate will stay the same. They are going to live happily ever after, while you died for the sake of others.

Just because he is the hero in the eyes of many, does not mean that he is unable to be a madman in the eyes of yours.

This is not a story hoping for a just world with equal chances for everyone. This is not a call for altruism. This is just a story to remind everyone, that a flawless hero liked by everyone is an impossible existence.

Same goes for me, even if I consider myself to be the hero of my own story, in the eyes of many other I am just a mere monster. There are millions of existing and behind every single one of them is a story full of different people, different ambitions, different emotions. Do those circ.u.mstances matter to me if I kill them in this world? In the end, right or wrong is just a simple judgement based on a perspective.

Right now I am letting the world crush my limbs over and over again. Some would say, this would only result in more and more pain and chaos others say that I am only trying to stay safe. Even though the intention of both sentences might differ the result will be the same. That is why I do not care what label they put on me.

What matters is to me is the development of my story and the people I care about. Is my family doing well? Are they happy, now that I am gone? Those are things that are important to me. These people could not care any less about the backstory of every tree branch they encounter in their lives.

And I do not want to have it any other way. If they are destined to change the world, that is great, but do not have the gall and claim to stand for everyone. That is just degrading and downplaying the stories of all those other protagonists.

My whole limbs became able to withstand the enormous pressure and I began to work on my head and body covering as much surface as possible, to train.

The big picture does not care for the little hero. It is for those you are destined to rise above others and dictate the direction of their journey. Only those are able to shape and direct it. That is their fate and destiny.

But I have never been a fan of terms like fate or destiny. Everyone has the change to shape his own future, with the choices he makes. If you want to stand above everyone do not let others decide for you. Or would you rather waste your life away, trapped in mediocrity. If you want to get something, you gotta work hard for it.

Yet some, even with all that talent and hard work are will never be able to fulfil their dreams. I do not consider that as a wasted opportunity. Dieing full of doubts, thinking about all the things that could have been, is a pure waste of human life.

As for me, I was caught in my own delusions at first. I wanted to change the world, make a difference. I tried to validate my existence by giving me some sort of purpose. But in the end, all I did was run away and hide my insecurities behind idealistic goals. I was not born for a great cause, I am just a product of many coincidences. But this time I am not here to give myself a purpose. I am not here to once again hide behind my words. I am just curious about this world.

And if I want to see this world, I must be able to survive. It is that simple.

Time pa.s.ses slowly, as a whole body was constantly built and rebuild.