I didn't sleep.And not because I was nervous. Or excited. Or had Ethiopian coffee spiked with epiphanies.I didn't sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I felt like someone was updating my soul with a USB full of metaphysical malware.
Ever felt like your very existence was being pirated?Yeah. That was me.Renji Kurogane.Archaeologist, ex-cop, and current host of an entity that blinks more than a poorly coded AI chatbot.
—
Dawn came with the elegance of a kick to the balls.The guide was ready.I wasn't.I was half-dead, half-conscious, and 100% "I don't wanna go but the script says I must."
"Did you sleep?" he asked.
"If by sleep you mean curling up in fetal position while the Eye whispered cosmic spoilers, then yes—I slept like a damn demon baby."
We got in the jeep.The engine roared.The desert swallowed us whole, like it sighed and went, "Oh great, here comes the dumbass again."
—
Three hours of driving.Silence.
Well, silence except for the occasional hum of one of my cursed diamonds activating out of spite.Or the Eye on my chest heating up like it wanted to fry my sternum.
And me? Quiet.Because there's a time to speak, and a time to avoid sounding more insane than you already are.
"Are we on track?" I asked eventually.
"The compass is spinning like a possessed stripper," he replied. "That's a good sign."
—
And then we saw it.NOR'MAKT.The mother of all bad ideas.
And I say this with experience: I've dated toxic people, eaten gas station tacos, and this still ranked worse.
It wasn't a city.Not even ruins.It was… something.
A visual ulcer.A metaphysical tumor in the fabric of geography.A rendering glitch that decided to stick around and claim rent.
Columns that didn't stand but floated anyway.Shadows with no owners.And air that smelled like a burned museum soaked in the essence of tragedy.
—
I got out of the jeep.The ground creaked.As if it didn't like the idea of someone real stepping into a place that should only exist in nightmares with a budget.
"What the hell is this?" I asked.
"NOR'MAKT. The first attempt to imprison the Eye.The first failure.The first 'oops, we accidentally released something worse.'"
"Oh, perfect. I love it when history begins with 'this went badly.'"
I stepped forward.The air was thick.Like walking through a memory you never wanted.
As if each footstep belonged to a recollection this place was having about me.
And there it was.The door.
Not a normal one.Not even a reasonable one.
A gate made of bone, stone, and symbols that seemed to argue with each other about whether to open or eat my soul with mustard.
"Does it open, or do I need to shout something like 'abracadabra, screw this'?"
The guide replied:"It doesn't open.It remembers."
"…What?"
"It's a memory door. It recognizes the bearer."
"And if it doesn't recognize me?"
"Then it spits you out of existence and turns you into a crying shadow."
"Oh good. That's very comforting."
—
It opened.Without me touching it.Without saying a word.
Just… opened.
Like the universe sighed and said,"Fine, get in, I already know who you are."
Inside: darkness.And heat.Not desert heat.More like… infernal womb vibes.
—
I stepped in.Of course I did.Because I'm a damn idiot.
And then I saw it.The chamber.
Perfect circle.Massive.Dark.And filled with statues.
All of them were me.
Not lookalikes.Me.
Hundreds.
Some standing.Others kneeling.One crying.Three bleeding.One… well… pleasuring himself. We don't talk about that.And one laughing.
Not a happy laugh.A laugh that says "I've seen it all, and it only gets worse from here."
—
And hanging in the center of the room:A heart.
Not human.Not metaphorical.
Giant.Black.Crystal.Beating in sync with my own.
"Tell me that thing's not mine."
"It is," whispered the guide behind me."It's the fragment. Your bond. Your emotional battery."
"And if I stop looking at it?"
"It breaks."
"And if it breaks?"
"So do you."
—
Then, a voice.Mine.But older.Worn out.Like a VHS from the '90s.
"Welcome to NOR'MAKT, Renji.""Here begins your memory—the one you haven't lived yet."
And all the statues turned to face me.All at once.
And one—the most broken one—winked.
—
"I wanna go home," I whispered.
"You don't have one," replied the voice.
And that's when I knew:NOR'MAKT wasn't a place.It was a trap.Of time.Of identity.Of everything I thought I was.