The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Chapter 92: The Wall of Names

The city he had known no longer existed.

As Ravian walked alone through the streets, he saw something the mind could not easily accept: the skyline he had memorized during his first days here... severed.

Where the rooftops, domes, and mansions of the Ninth District should have risen against the sky, there was now nothing but a pale emptiness beneath the stars. A jagged line of torchlight guarded it from afar, while members of the City Guard patrolled the entire perimeter.

A short distance away, a patrol of two weary guards passed by, and Ravian’s new hearing caught their whispers as clearly as though they were standing beside him.

"...Eight days, and still nothing. The Grays have sealed off the crater—even the birds won’t fly near it."

"I heard that anyone who gets too close... their tongue starts saying things. Things they don’t want to say. Isn’t that terrifying?"

"Shut up and keep walking, man. You’re not a little child."

’Eight days.’ Ravian fixed the number firmly in his mind. ’I spent eight days without a body and without a complete soul.’

The realization settled upon his heart like a weight.

Why had he encountered something so terrifying so easily—as though he could stumble across it anywhere merely by picking a fight with the wrong person?

There was no way this was a mere coincidence.

Ravian did not believe in coincidences. He believed in something else entirely.

’Fate... could it be responsible? But I never told it my real name.’

The strangeness of it gnawed at him.

He had run headlong into an Ambassador of Truth on the very first night he killed someone in the capital—and it hadn’t ended there. No; once he had somehow brought the situation under control, it turned out that the investigator possessed the one ability most capable of cornering Ravian in precisely that situation.

And yet, in the following loop, Ravian had managed to kill him with relative ease simply by twisting his words a little...

And what happened next?

A Descent of one of the Taboos came down upon him!

’Oh, come on! Why did everything have to be blown so far out of proportion?’

They had been nothing more than the Records of one man—a man who would never have uncovered him at all if not for that damnable lie-detection ability.

’He was literally useless... but I respect him a little, since he did actually kill me once—and I’m not about to excuse that nonsense by telling myself he was three whole ranks above me or anything like that.’

’I simply lost back then.’

To Ravian, a loss was a lesson—something to learn from, not something to remain trapped within.

What would happen if he made excuses for losing? Would that somehow make him win?

No.

He would merely lose again in some other way, make more excuses, and allow the cycle to continue.

But what if, after that first defeat, he learned how to face that overwhelmingly stronger opponent and took the necessary precautions?

He would win.

Right?

NO! FOOL!!

Then that boss-level monster would descend upon him and come within moments of erasing his existence entirely.

’Ah, for God’s sake... I came far too close to the end this time.’ Ravian combed his white hair back with both hands and gazed up at the sky, losing himself in its beauty for a moment before lowering his eyes toward the city and its alleys once more.

’That’s enough rest, I think.’

’Now, let’s get back to work.’

Ravian continued moving from shadow to shadow until a small square brought him to a halt.

Its stone wall was covered in paper.

Hundreds of notices had been posted across it, some written in trembling handwriting and others in formal script. They bore names, ages, and phrases such as, "Missing since the night of the catastrophe," and, "Anyone who has seen him should report to the Western Temple shelter."

Names of men and women...

Then came the names accompanied by painfully small numbers.

"Seven years old."

"Five years old."

"Four..."

Ravian’s eyes stopped reading of their own accord.

Something tightened inside his perfect new chest—a tightness caused by neither bone nor muscle, and one that no physique of any grade could cure.

He knew the reason for that feeling, and he knew it with a precision that allowed no luxury of denial.

The pressure of Truth’s Descent had killed everyone inside the tavern and those immediately surrounding it. Those people had died before Ravian ever made his choice.

But the detonation of his soul had spread beyond that initial circle of death.

That explosion had erased homes whose inhabitants had still been alive and asleep, unaware that a battle was even taking place.

Ordinary workers.

Families.

Children whose only crime was that their homes had stood near the place where Ravian and Truth met.

As always, Ravian did not search for excuses.

He truly hadn’t expected this to happen. He had simply believed that he had reached the end and refused to surrender what Truth wanted from him.

He had never imagined that the detonation of his soul would leave marks upon the material world like these.

Still, he refused to let that become a writ of pardon.

’Necessity does not erase consequence.’

He stood before the wall for a long time and found not a single trace of his usual wit within himself.

Even his dry inner voice... fell silent.

The moments passed, and Ravian’s eyes began to glisten.

It was not the unnatural gleam of Pride, but the glimmer of moisture.

And yet, despite that, no tears fell.

’...I’m sorry.’

’But if I were returned to that exact moment and forced to face the same impossible choices... I would make the same decision again.’

Ravian did not know whom he was addressing, but he refused to lie to himself. He refused even to claim that, if time were turned back, he would choose to surrender himself to Truth rather than detonate his soul.

He closed his eyes.

’And that is precisely what makes it so much heavier.’