[center][img]https://images-ext-1.discordapp.net/external/jYqOTPr-hJLJsgjoioU8IeG-fDRIu8WlRkTNN8CvSfE/https/78.media.tumblr.com/2ab89af0fb5751c9d5ae666f24ca95b4/tumblr_pbwt0dYgzh1w6599so1_1280.png[/img][/center] [hr] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ewp-0zUU0kM&ab_channel=yialee8]The experience of death[/url] is not one many people get to recall in such vivid detail as Alistair did. He remembered every last detail, from the pain of breaking his hand on the woman's extraordinarily-durable face to the realization his life was going to end to the smell of what was likely his own blood, moments before he entirely blacked out. The pain, the misery, the feelings he had felt were not false. It was impossible for him to rationalize it as a dream when none had ever felt so real before. Alistair Archibald had been killed. And what effect did it have on the young man? Naturally, the ability to look back on one's own death was unnatural. In many religions, physical death was always an important stage of life. When one died, they were believed to ascend to heaven, descend to hell, to become an entirely new being, such as an animal or a tree, or perhaps they became one with something else. But the fact remained that death always resulted in a changed human being. Memories were broken with the truth of their lives going unspoken. Such that they would forget the basic details, even down to their name. While the soul lived on, the individual did not. For the average person, this is how things were. But Alistair Archibald was not average. He was so much more! [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4poG9l7-ZZg&list=RD4poG9l7-ZZg&start_radio=1&ab_channel=HYDEgaming1]Death was only the beginning![/url] Alistair was not frightened nor impeded by his death. He did not panic when he saw the familiar surroundings of the meeting room, nor when he saw that his hands were in perfect shape and that he was well. For in his mind, there was only one thing he even cared about. The memory of his death, or rather, the memory of who inflicted such a status upon him. [b]“Maybe in another life, you could give me that challenge, asshole. But don’t forget the name: Fredehildr Merogasque. Take it with you to the afterlife. You made one mistake though. You pissed me off.”[/b] The arrogant words of his executioner ruled over all other potential worries. He cared not about the circumstances behind his revival. He did not cave under the pressure this new world had applied to him at the very start. He did not feel anything but this: an unfathomable humiliation-turned-rage-turned-determination. He hated to admit that this woman had struck every potential nerve in his body. He loathed the fact that her name was branded in his memories, despite his passing. [i][color=c1ba46]This... BITCH! SHE DARE MOCK ME?! DARE ASSUME THAT SHE IS MY BETTER? I WILL MAKE HER PAY. SHE WILL REGRET OPPOSING ME![/color] [/i] But he would pay her back tenfold. This humiliation, this rage... she would experience all of it and more. ...at a later time. The truth of the matter was that Alistair was incapable of even laying a scratch on her, as of this moment. He was no world-renowned boxer, but he did not hold back his punch. Anybody would have felt that blow, especially a woman of her size. But she did not. There was a conclusion to be made here: that she was not human, or at least not one as he knew it. The fact she outright killed him with a single punch to his chest was merely supporting evidence to this point. And so... Alistair understood that claiming his revenge was going to require patience. A lot of it. So that did mean he was going to need to escape this place without dying. [color=c1ba46][i]Now, how to go about this?[/i][/color] Had anybody been playing close attention to him up until this point, they'd have noticed him grinding his teeth. But suddenly, his face relaxed. Or, well, at least resembled his grumpy face from before that betrayed only a minor irritation rather than rage. It was... somewhat of an improvement? Anyways, he looked to the young man from before, Flame, who had seemed determined not to repeat the events from last time. That was smart, but simply leaving through one of the other doors was a bit too obvious a solution, wasn't it? [color=c1ba46][i]How did that woman know we were here? Lord Talus certainly did not just send us here to die. That'd make no sense, not that this whole situation does... but why not just kill us in the abyss if that was his goal? Was there someone else? [/i][/color] Honestly, he was too pressed for time and too pissed off to really think too much harder on the subject. When he could cool down and wasn't in immediate danger, he could theorize more. For now, however, he made a simple assumption: that these people were most likely aware of the fact there were multiple doors to this building. Alistair wasn't sure if everybody from this place had the same strength and durability as his new sworn enemy, but it might be better to assume they did. And who knew if they had the speed to match it. There was far too many things to consider for him to make a perfect plan. He also wasn't keen on relying on that strange ability to revive, either. It could've been a one-time thing. He figured that it may be ideal to stand together with the priest and the young man, but what could they do against such overwhelming power? Fleeing was perhaps their best chance, but it'd be a blow to his pride. Though then again, dying to that bitch again would be a much bigger blow. [color=c1ba46]"I am confident that we're going to be in trouble no matter what we do,"[/color] Alistair resolutely stated. [color=c1ba46]"But listen well, my fellow victims! I, Alistair Archibald, am usually a benevolent and tolerant man, but there a three things I simply cannot stand: People who stand in my way, people who insult me, and people who order me around! And so, I'll shatter every bone in my body on that thick skull of hers long before I acknowledge that she is my better!"[/color] Alistair strode over to a different door than the one he tried last time. He did not want to break his hands on her face, after all. It was just that he understood such was an inevitable outcome were they to meet face-to-face again. [color=c1ba46]"Lets hurry up!"[/color] he instructed, particular to the priest who was lagging behind. He was much too pissed off to be paying attention to the others closely, but perhaps the priest was having a normal response to reviving?