New Eden: Live to Play, Play to Live



Astaroth looked around, searching for Geminae, and as soon as he turned his head to his left, there he was.

"You're here again."

Astaroth was surprised as he looked at Geminae. His appearance was now much closer to his, many of the effeminate traits nowhere to be seen, replaced by his one structure.

The difference was now much smaller. The silver colour of his hair, against the ashen colour of Astaroth's or the diamond-coloured irises, against Astaroth's sapphire blue eyes.

The muscle density also looked different, but if Astaroth had to guess, Geminae looked more defined than him, if somewhat less bulky. Like a perfect version of him, but with big-ass white wings.

"This is my mind. Can I not enter it as I please?" Astaroth replied, cocking an eyebrow.

Geminae sighed lightly, his head shaking from left to right.

"You never come here just to chat. You always want something. You mortals always want something. Greed has been the worst motivator for mankind. I would have long eradicated it if it weren't a necessary evil."

Astaroth frowned at his words. He sounded way too refined suddenly.

The last time he and Geminae talked, he sounded docile, even though it was brief.

'Is this what they call the rebellious phase?' he wondered.

"I am not being rebellious; I am being objective. It isn't my fault you never come to me to talk. Learn more about me. No. Every time we meet, you require something. And you always need more…"

Astaroth could hear a tinge of annoyance in his voice. No.

It was deeper than annoyance. Was it anger?

"Geminae, I have to get stronger. I'm sure you know why. Don't you think it's normal that I always ask for more power?"

Geminae's eyes flashed with malice for a second. In that split second, Astaroth felt like the innocent child he had seen the first time, the one who had willingly reached out to help him, was gone.

"Mother Psyche should have never entrusted us to you. You are undeserving of her power. Leave this place."

Geminae turned around, walking away from Astaroth, and shimmered before disappearing. Astaroth could no longer sense his presence.

All he could see was white all around.

"What the… I didn't come here to go back empty-handed!" Astaroth screamed at the top of his lungs.

But silence was his answer.

"Seriously? Get your ass back here! You don't get to refuse me anything! I'm the one in control of this body!" Astaroth shouted, extending his mana presence.

Immediately as he started expanding his mana presence, another presence crashed into him, crushing it and sending him to his knees, immense pressure holding him down.

Geminae's voice echoed in his ear, with his body nowhere to be seen.

"You don't have the power to force me into submission. I am not a mortal being, nor am I a docile doe. You still control your body because I need you to cover my aura. Now, leave!"

Astaroth felt the pressure increase, sending him on all fours, gasping for air.

"You fuckhead! You think you can treat me like this inside my own mind?! Come here and fight me if you dare!" he screamed, his face dripping with sweat.

This was bad. He had come for power, only to realize he wasn't going to get any and that he was basically a glorified meat envelope.

But he wouldn't take this lying down.

Focusing all his power, Astaroth managed to get some of the pressure off of him, enough to stand again, if in a somewhat bent position. He slowly looked around, looking for Geminae.

To exert this pressure, he couldn't be far.

'Where is he hiding?' he wondered, seeing nothing but white.

Astaroth couldn't walk around to find him, as his legs felt like they were stuck in concrete. And his mana senses couldn't expand out to look for him either, as he was using all his concentration to hold back the pressure.

'Fuck! Is he going to kick me out of my own soul? No! I can't let this happen! I have to fight back!"

As he thought that, a whisper reached his ear.

"I can help you…"

The whisper was faint, almost like it came from far away, carried by the wind. But Astaroth was grasping at straws.

"Who are you?" he called out.

Geminae, who was hiding nearby, heard him call out and frowned.

'Is he losing his mind to the pressure? Maybe I should reduce it. I still need him…'

"I can help you…" the whisper echoed again.

I didn't seem to want to answer Astaroth's question. But he was feeling himself starting to buckle again.

His knees shook, his back aching, and he could feel his mana reserves dipping dangerously low.

"Ah, to hell with it! If you can help, then help! Before I get crushed!"

Immediately, Geminae realized he was talking to someone. And his face became livid.

Aside from Astaroth and him, nothing should be able to come here. This was the soul space.

They shouldn't have access unless Astaroth, or he, willingly let the companions in. And, right now, he was locking the space shut.

This meant Astaroth couldn't even reach his soul companions if he tried. This meant that whatever was talking to him was already inside.

This could only mean one thing.

Looking about the room, Geminae used his considerably stronger mana senses to find the other entity. And as he did, it struck.

Geminae felt something sharp stab him in the back, right under his left wing, and he jumped forward. He had to release his concealment spell, making himself visible to Astaroth again.

"You!" Geminae seethed.

Turning his head to Astaroth, he cursed him.

"How could you ask help of that thing, of all things?! Are you mad?! Do you intend to give away your body?!"

Astaroth could already feel the pressure on him reduce.

"Hah! Like you weren't intending to do just that yourself? Please. Fool someone else. If he wants to aid me, and that gets you in line, then I'll fight it out with him after!" he screamed, getting back up straight.

Where Geminae had been standing a moment earlier, hand dripping in golden blood, was a being that Astaroth recognized. He had seen it before, in a dream.

Or rather, he had seen himself as it, in a nightmare. One he never wished to see come true.

"RHAKHAKHAKHA! Finally, I can move! Thank you, weakling, for setting me free! I'll deal with this holy pain in the ass first, and then I'll grant you your wish. We can fight to see who keeps control!"

A tall copy of Astaroth stood there, licking the golden blood of its hand.

Two black horns protruded a foot high from its skull, with a ball of black fire hovering between them. On its back, a myriad of scars decorated its scarlet skin, with two larger than the others.

It looked like something had once been there and torn away with much violence.

No shirt adorned its chest, showing its rippling muscles, and its legs were covered in tattered leather pants, not unlike the ones Astaroth was currently wearing. Only, they were dyed reddish-brown in dried blood.

This was the demon he saw himself become—the representation of the growing corruption afflicting Astaroth's soul.

"Now! Shall we dance angel boy?" the demonized Astaroth asked, his grin stretching far up his cheeks.

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