The realization hit me like a thunderclap, sharp and unrelenting. I wasn't in my world anymore. I was in his body, Agon, the boy destined to die before this story even got started.
My head throbbed as I pieced it together. The choking. The darkness. The whispers. And now this: a burning village straight out of the first Chapter of Echoes of Agony. But how? I'd only skimmed the Chapter, barely enough to know the basics.
I clenched my fists, panic bubbling in my chest. "No," I whispered to myself. "No, I'm not dying here. Not like this."
The hut's air was thick with smoke, every breath searing my lungs. Shadows of flames danced on the walls, and the heat pressed against my skin like a living thing. In the corner, Celia was rummaging through a pile of straw, her white hair glowing faintly in the firelight.
"Do you know the way out of the village?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
She froze, turning to me with a puzzled expression. Her deep blue eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you talking about, Agon? We know the way. Don't you remember?"
Oh, right. I'm not Martin anymore. I'm Agon.
"Sorry," I said quickly, feigning a sheepish grin. "Must've hit my head harder than I thought when I blacked out."
Celia gave a small nod, her worry easing as she resumed her search. "I'm looking for the sword I hid under this pile," she muttered. "It was here earlier, but now it's gone. Someone must've taken it."
Her words barely registered as I tried to map out a plan in my head. This was the pivotal moment. Agon's fatal mistake in the story was fighting back. He thought bravery would save him, but this wasn't that kind of world.
A sudden crack above jolted me back to the present.
"Celia, move!"
I lunged, grabbing her arm and yanking her away as a burning wooden beam crashed where she'd been standing. The embers hissed and spat as they scattered, one brushing my arm and searing the skin. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, but I brushed it off.
Celia stared at me, wide-eyed. "Agon, your arm!"
"It's nothing," I said, shaking off the sting. "Just... don't be so careless. You'll get yourself killed."
Before she could respond, a sound sliced through the crackling flames, a guttural, alien screech that sent shivers crawling down my spine.
"They're here," Celia whispered, her voice trembling.
I didn't wait. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her toward the door. The hut shuddered as the roars grew louder, accompanied by the chaotic stomping of heavy feet.
We ran.
The village was a hellscape. Huts burned like pyres, their flames licking at the night sky. Shadows darted between the buildings, too large to be human, too fast to be anything natural. My heart pounded as we weaved through the chaos, smoke stinging my eyes.
Celia stumbled, her bare feet catching on the uneven ground. I tightened my grip on her hand, pulling her upright as we pushed forward. Agon's memories, fractured as they were, flashed in my mind. This was where he made his fatal stand, drawing his sword against the monsters. Foolish. Reckless.
Not me.
We didn't stop running until the village was behind us, the blazing huts shrinking into the distance. The ground sloped upward, and my legs burned as we climbed. When we reached the crest of the hill, I turned back, panting.
What I saw stole the air from my lungs.
The village was gone. The place that had once been home to dozens of families was now nothing but smoldering ruins. The flames painted the night in hues of orange and red, the smoke rising like ghosts into the sky, strange lights searching as if looking for something.
Beside me, Celia sank to her knees. Her shoulders trembled as she stared at the devastation. "Everyone..." Her voice broke. "Everyone died... trying to protect what we called home."
Her words hung heavy in the air, a weight that pressed down on me.
I knelt beside her, hesitating before reaching out to ruffle her hair. It was a small, clumsy gesture, but she glanced at me, her tear-streaked face softening.
"Come on," I said, forcing a smile. "We need to keep moving. There's nothing left for us here."
She nodded, wiping her face with her sleeve. Her small smile was brief, but it was something.
As we descended the hill, my thoughts wandered. The protagonist of Echoes of Agony was still in the village, no doubt fighting the monsters even now. I prayed I wouldn't cross paths with him. Knowing how these stories went, nothing good ever came from being near the main character.
For now, I'd survived.
Agon's body, this borrowed shell, was still breathing. But this world was merciless, and death lingered around every corner.
How long could I cheat fate?