Magister Insanity

"Hey. Stand up. It's not over."

My mouth slowly opened.

Those words were directed at the despairing man behind me.

Choi Minho lifted his head, with eyes swollen with tears. At first, he didn't understand. But upon processing my words, he choked out:

"What do you mean? What are you saying? What do you mean, 'it's not over'?"

His voice cracked as he ground his teeth.

"Buddy, look around you! How does any of this look like a promising future... for you, for me, for any of us?!! We've tried everything we could, everything we ever can. Face it... this is the end of the line, dammit! We're all going to die and there's not a single thing we can do about it!"

Pouring out all his anger and frustration, he slammed both hands hard against the snowy ground.

I understood his pain. Truthfully, I secretly felt the same.

The situation had reached a point where hoping for silver linings was nothing more than wishful thinking. Maybe, just as he said, this was already beyond saving.

'I can't stop here… not when my heart holds such overwhelming ambition!'

The desire for revenge had been accumulating inside my heart, growing stronger and stronger each day I manage to survive.

A strong desire that would carry over even if I met my untimely end.

No weight of despair could ever shackle such relentless hunger!

After a few strides, I stopped before Choi Minho, hovering over him. My gaze hardened into a scowl as I looked down.

"Pathetic. Is this really all you've got? After everything we have been through, you're just going to quit?"

"W-What?"

"Yes, maybe it's true the situation looks hopeless, with not a single silver lining in sight. But so what? What if there's no way back? Then we fight, we struggle like cockroaches and we survive until the very end. Tell me, would you really be satisfied with anything less?"

Minho's lips trembled, but no words came out. His body shook from the storm raging within.

Leaning closer, my voice was as sharp as a blade, cutting through the air.

"Are you that eager to die? To throw away everything just because the path ahead looks grim?"

His gaze trembled, drifting to the snow as though searching for an escape. I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to meet my eyes.

"I'm not asking you to believe in miracles. I'm not asking you to hope for some divine intervention. All I'm asking… is that you refuse to give up. Survive with me, no matter how filthy, no matter how hopeless it feels. If we're destined to fall, then let it be after we've bled every last drop of will out of ourselves."

Minho clenched his jaws. He heaved in ragged bursts, his face showing a mix of fear and terror.

"You're insane."

I smiled wryly, realising the truth hidden in that statement.

"Maybe I am. But insanity's better than lying in the snow, waiting for death to come."

The silence that followed was heavy, but something had shifted. The despair that once anchored him seemed to loosen, if only slightly.

Step by step, Minho began to rise. Brushing the snow from his hands, he met my eyes with newfound resolve.

Those eyes were burning with silent conviction.

Now this was a better look.

"We're already here, so we might as well go inside."

Following a brief pause, the three of us finally approached the temple. As we climbed the steps, scattered bones came into view, half-buried beneath the snow. A closer look revealed they varied in size: some likely belonging to demons long perished, while others were disturbingly human-like.

I swallowed hard.

'Please be empty. Please be empty.'

Whatever species those bones belonged to, one thing was certain: they hadn't died naturally. Something had killed them. Worst-case scenario, the guardian responsible was still inside, waiting for the next trespasser.

And with my luck so far, stumbling right into it felt almost inevitable.

However, we couldn't turn back even if we wanted to.

The temple doors groaned as we pushed them open, their weight resisting as though warning us away. The sound echoed through the vast chamber beyond, reverberating like a dirge for the dead.

Inside, the air was thick and heavy with the stench of dust. Cascades of light poured through cracks in the ceiling, scattering pale beams across towering pillars etched with faded runes. Shadows clung to every corner, twisting with each flicker from the lights of our smartphones.

Snow from outside had seeped into the cracks of the stone floor, melting into thin rivulets that glistened like veins of silver. Yet it wasn't the architecture, nor the stark beauty of the hall, that unsettled me.

It was the silence.

Too silent.

My phone's light darted nervously across the chamber, chasing shadows along the walls and corners. But every time the beam landed, there was nothing. Only stone and emptiness.

Was I imagining things? Maybe I'm growing too paranoid.

"Hey. Look over there."

Ezra called out and raised his phone, pointing its pale light towards the far end of the hall.

There, a massive altar loomed, hewn from a single slab of black marble. It stood untouched by snow, untouched by time, as if the world itself had recoiled from it. Behind the altar rose a towering statue, humanoid in shape yet far from human: a devilish face twisted into a sneer, six arms spread wide as though in mockery of the divine.

And below it lay a stone slab, etched with markings that shimmered faintly in the light, lines carved deep like wounds left upon the earth.

"W-What is this place?"

"Can't you see it's an altar? Or has your vision finally gone gray too?"

"This brat… Who the hell are you calling an old man?! Besides, I'm still in my early forties!"

"Um, hello? Forty is a huge number. Most people keel over by then. So yes, you're an old man."

"Do you want a beating? Because I'll gladly deliver one!"

Minho and Ezra actually started bickering right there.

Of all times, they chose this. I wanted to question where their survival instincts had gone, but honestly, I was too exhausted to bother.

"Haa…"

Leaving them to their own devices, I moved past the altar and approached the stone slab.

The markings etched into the slab came into clearer view the closer I got. Strange symbols spiraled across the surface, curving inward like a vortex pulling the eye toward the center.

I crouched, brushing a hand across the cold stone. My fingers traced the grooves, feeling the depth of the carvings. The symbols pulsed faintly under the beam of my light, almost as if they were reflecting something that wasn't really there.

"What the hell is this…?"

Behind me, the arguing voices quieted. Minho and Ezra finally noticed my focus and wandered closer, though reluctantly, like children peeking at something they weren't supposed to see.

Minho squinted curiously, leaning over my shoulder.

"How peculiar. It looks like… a script, but not any language I recognize."

Ezra frowned. "Weren't you supposed to be a translator? You really can't read it?"

"In order to translate one language to another, you need to understand it first! How can I translate something I've never even seen before?"

Well, that was disappointing.

'So what now?'

Aside from the altar and the slab, there was nothing else here. No hidden passages or even a proper shelter we could use. Just another hollow hope.

Really, what had I been expecting? Some mysterious savior to suddenly appear, like in a video game or anime?

Unfortunately, this was reality.

'Tch. Coming here was a mistake.'

A cursed escaped.

It was regrettable, but we had to cut our losses.

Just then, something flashed.

"...?!"

My eyes widened. The carvings etched into the slab began to shimmer, bleeding into a deep, unnatural crimson. One by one, the symbols shifted and rearranged themselves, as though the stone were rewriting its own story.

My eyes opened and closed rapidly, unable to process what I was seeing.

"Uh… do you guys notice anything strange?"

Ezra tilted his head. "Strange how?"

"Isn't the slab… glowing?"

Both of them turned toward it. Minho's brows furrowed almost immediately.

"What are you talking about? Glowing? It's just a rock."

So they couldn't see it? Then what was I seeing?

Hallucination?

No. The stone slab was still glowing unnaturally, crimson light crawling through the carvings like veins of molten fire. This was no trick of my subconscious — it was a phenomenon beyond reason, undeniably supernatural.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the glow dimmed, and the shifting lines froze

Squinting at the slab, I froze. The tangled markings I had once dismissed as meaningless scratches were no longer gibberish. They had rearranged themselves into readable words.

Magic? Was this really magic?

Wait… why am I even surprised?

Given the circumstances, we were dragged into this world by forces that defied all natural law. Of course magic existed here. If my reasoning was sound, then somewhere in this world, there had to be a magic capable of sending us back to our own reality.

And right now, I might be looking at it.

Even if it wasn't the case at all, I was still willing to stake all my hopes on that slim chance.

I was desperate to wake up from this long, excruciating dream.

'Now... Let's see what it says.'

With great intent, I proceeded to read the scriptures. The words burned themselves into my vision:

To those who enter, abandon the hope of return. Only the marked one may cross the threshold of eternity.

Persecute thyself, stain the altar with the worth of blood.

Let the veins be rivers, let the heart be flame,

let the breath that departs be the hymn of devotion.

Cast the spell, weave the thread, bind the blood, nail the head, kill the sun, break the chains, free the soul. Only than would you be redeemed.

All hail the Almighty Ruler of Imaginary, Vanishing Dream God!

"T-This is..."

My voice trembled.