Black Pain

Jets of hot steam rose from the two ceramic cups of freshly brewed coffee and drifted across the round wooden table with cracked edges, reflecting in the black, rippled surface of the bitter drink, just as the night glow shone through the old window onto the faces of the figures trapped here.

The old mirror reflected Morbia's silhouette, her short crimson hair and swaying pointy ends, her calm green eyes, and a sugar cube clutched between her fingers that soon ended up in her coffee cup, just like the four before it.

Tron watched curiously as Morbia made her coffee sweeter and sweeter, she loved sugar more than anything else.

Wanting to taste the sweetness once more, Tron reached out to grab a sugar cube.

A quick slap from Morbia on his hand made him stop.

"Don't. Try it without sugar first, it'll be the first time you've ever felt the bitterness in your life."

Her voice was menacing, on the verge of commanding. Then, Morbia lowered her eyes and took a sip of her coffee, it was as sweet as syrup.

Confusion echoed in Tron, he never heard of it before.

"Bitterness?"

Tron enthusiastically took the cup in his hands. He was driven by interest, not Morbia's orders. He supposed it would be as satisfying as the taste of sweetness.

As he took the first sip, Tron's face contorted into a great frown.

"Kha!"

Tron instantly spit out the coffee, in an attempt to remove any trace of the taste from his tongue.

Then, he exclaimed irritably:

"What the hell is that?!"

At her part, Morbia calmly took the next sip. Tron glanced at her, then at the sugar cubes.

"You! You did that on purpose! You knew that drink tasted disgusting!"

Anger flared in him, not realizing it was the first time he'd ever been angry in his life.

Instead of giving an answer, Morbia began to crook her fingers, muttering something under her breath.

"Sweetness, bitterness, anger, warmth, and possibly pain... There are four already, good, the development should continue." 

Morbia quickly looked at the watch on her wrist, the glass cover cracked, the hands struggled to move but always showed the exact time.

With a nod, she stared at Tron like a predator, leading its prey into a trap.

"Tron, I have a question for you. Do you even realize who you are? Although... no, now you're not who, you're what."

Tron raised an eyebrow, pointing to his chest.

"Agh? You called me a what?"

In a deep sigh, she glanced to the side - through the window of her shelter, a view of the snow-covered bridge, Tron was prepared to end his life there earlier.

"Unlike me, you're not a human. Your kind we call the Blanks. You and the other Blanks, are as insignificant as nothing, that's why the Ghost didn't pay attention to you, you were nothing for it."

True, because of his nature Tron didn't understand what emotions, sensations and feelings were, but his intelligence was not affected in any way. He realized that Morbia was serious and her words matched reality.

"In fact, you shouldn't be able to see me, or that creature, or the man, or even the snow. Surely things are a little different in your world where you were just a couple of hours ago, right?"

Tron gulped.

"But, for some reason, you ended up here, in the Inner Loop. The place where you previously lived, or rather existed, is called the Outer Loop."

Dropping her gaze, Morbia narrowed her eyes, studying Tron's reaction. She acted confident, but this was the first time she'd worked with the Black One. 

She was nervous, even more than Tron was because it was a feeling he was not yet aware of.

Deep down, she doubted it was real. 

To meet the Black One? It was the most dangerous trump card fate could give her. She knew they existed, though even she didn't fully believe it.

'The Black One...' Morbia muttered to herself, 'A creature that appeared beyond the sight of fate itself, and not of its own will.... It's dangerous to tell him more than that.'

"Inner Loop...? Outer Loop...? Are you talking about my world?"

"Hah, your world?"

Morbia chuckled with an obvious sneer in her voice.

"This place is called the Kyrexo Loop. It contains a fake world for the Blanks and a prison for real people like me."

After a few seconds, Morbia glimpsed at her watch, her face turned grim.

An immense emptiness was growing inside Tron, his hands lowered and his gaze directed upward.

"My world? Oh... So all this time... What a nonsense..."

Taking a short sip of the overly sweet coffee for the average person, Morbia put the cup back.

"All the Harbingers know about it, and I'm no exception."

That was a lie.

After a few seconds, Morbia continued:

"Your life was gray, faded, static, and monotonous. No emotion or feeling, the same thing day in and day out. You had no desires, ambitions, or interests, after all, the Blanks just empty spaces."

Morbia listed all aspects of Tron's life in a low tone, to his horror, she was right.

The realization came to Tron that something was wrong only when he got into the Inner Loop, did he feel something.

Tron glared at her.

"Harbingers...? You're a Harbinger?"

A proud smile showed on her face.

"That man who wanted to kill you was a Harbinger too. Now we have more important things to deal with. In short, Harbingers are capable of changing reality, to some extent."

The desire to learn more about these people grew in Tron, but he was stopped by Morbia's stare that was once again directed at the watch.

"Why...? Why do you keep looking at your watch…?"

Taking her time to answer, Morbia leaned her head on the wooden chair, reaching her hand forward and clasping a sugar cube between her fingers before popping it into her mouth.

"Because... Once you've experienced the four emotions beyond the Outer Loop, an irreversible process has begun within you, it's called the Incarnation."

Morbia sighed, her voice was calm, but it was only a mask she put on for Tron. Now, right in front of her was a ticking bomb.

A stream of genuine joy rushed over Tron, causing his eyes to shine.

"I'll become human? Just like you? A real one? Yes?!"

Hope filled his voice, but... soon shattered at Morbia's cold stare.

"No. You'll turn into a creature similar to the Ghost you met on the bridge, but much scarier... Then, you'll lose your mind and tear me apart because I won't be able to resist."

With a cold stare, she pointed to her watch.

"Eight minutes. That's all you have left. That is your fate."

A chill ran down Tron's back, his face went pale, and his knees dropped to the ground.

"Hah... Just eight minutes..."

Then, Morbia lifted her chin, a dangerous gleam ran across her eyes.

"You don't want to die? Then why did you come to that bridge?"

Tron stared at her with a trembling gaze.

"Die? Hah, who would want to die after knowing emotions? Even if I had to drink that disgusting brown liquid for the rest of my life, bitter and unpleasant, it's much better than being nothing!"

An ironic sigh followed from Morbia, she understood him.

Then, a sorrowful smile slowly formed on Tron's face.

"Hey... Morbia, tell me. Of all the emotions, what is the strongest, most important, and desirable one? Eight minutes is not enough time to learn everything, but I want to know what I'm missing."

Morbia raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest.

"Hmm? What a curious question... Well, there's power, love, lust, freedom, pride, and a lot more. But... I think that in the end both the king and the poor, the merchant and the murderer, all want to reach the peak, to find - the happiness."

Tron smiled bitterly, his look growing darker.

"Happiness it means... right? I see..."

Despite the limited time, Morbia continued to keep an eye on Tron, taking occasional sips of her coffee.

By deciding to protect Tron, the Black One, she accepted the rules of this game - she had no margin for mistake. If it was necessary to waste a few minutes for the right moment, Morbia was ready for it.

And... soon she sensed that Tron was at his most vulnerable point.

"Well, since you don't want to die, I can help keep you alive. I know how to stop the Incarnation, how to let you keep your emotions."

Hope, another new feeling filled Tron to the brim.

"Is that true? You're not lying? What do I have to do?"

Morbia nodded before pointing to her bare wrist.

"As you can see I don't have the Spark like that man, nor do I have a similar flaming cross, because my powers are sealed. However, I can offer you a contract with me. It will be impossible to break the terms of the contract because we will conclude under the supervision of one of the Eyes."

"Spark? A contract? The Eyes?"

Many questions filled Tron's mind, he wanted to figure out what was going on here, but... as soon as Morbia tapped her watch he gulped and nodded. 

He only had three minutes left to transform, he felt something raging inside him.

Without hesitation, Morbia confidently extended her hand forward.

"I am Morbia La Doux, calling upon the Eye of the Kyrexo Loop to make a fair contract with the Blank."

Her voice was full of fiery determination, her strict gaze impatient.

Tremble. Tremble. Tremble.

Space shuddered, distorting and literally riving apart above the table.

Tron jerked back sharply, not from fright but from shock. Never in his faded life had he ever seen anything like this.

The dark cracks widened, leaving a stain that led only to oblivion, an amber eye with swollen veins, and a crazed stare. 

The eye glared at Tron, then at Morbia.

A long black hand slowly emerged from the darkness, thin and dried up like a burned-out branch due to a severe fire, slowly making its way towards Morbia, extending its longest finger of the four.

The fingertip touched Morbia's forehead, sending a pulse of shivers spreading across her pale skin.

A set of dense, heavy chains unfolded, crossing in the center of her chest. 

After that, they hid again, a reminder of their presence as ghostly guards possessing one purpose - to restrain Morbia's powers. It was her seal and her punishment, the reason she ended up here, in the Kyrexo Loop.

Her seal was temporarily released.

Suddenly, rich green energy burst forth, burning brightly around Morbia, the flames of an angry demon enjoying its long-awaited freedom. It was only a brief enlightenment given by the Eye to sign the contract.

Morbia took a sigh of relief.

"Oh... It's so good to feel strong again, if only for a moment."

Try to escape from the Eye and keep her strength? 

She didn't even consider that option since the only outcome was death.

"Hey... We have a little over two minutes left. What's your name?"

"Hmm? Tron... You know that."

Not wasting a second, Morbia shook her head with a bitter smile.

"Last name, we need your last name. Agh..." 

Her words were indeed inappropriate, not in front of such an individual.

"Right... You don't have a last name you're the Blank."

The Eye waited for Morbia to begin the formal part, occasionally glancing with his pupil at the two dark souls.

"I am, Morbia La Doux, offering Tron to become my servant and bind us to prevent his Incarnation. The contract will remain in effect until I get rid of the seal and until Tron becomes human."

Outrage descended on Tron, his eyes went wide.

"What? You want me to become your servant?"

Indignation filled Tron's voice, he didn't like what Morbia was offering.

Morbia shrugged nonchalantly as if it was nothing to worry about.

"It's only a formality, I assure you. I simply need a guarantee of safety. By linking our energy, I will prevent your Incarnation."

Despite her words, there was no more confidence in Tron's eyes. Realizing this Morbia pointed to her watch, where only 90 seconds remained.

'Come on. Hurry up. Accept my terms, fuck!' Morbia inwardly exclaimed, trying to keep a calm confident face, but if not she would've bit her lip to the blood by now.

Crackle.

Tron flipped the table over with a sharp sweep of his hand, the cold coffee flying before their eyes, the cups breaking into tiny shards, and the sugar cubes rolling apart.

"What...?"

Before Morbia could realize what was happening, Tron pounced on her and flung her to the ground.

Their gazes faced.

"Become your servant? That means I'll do what you say, you'll have complete control over both me and my emotions! How is that different from living a gray life in my fake world? No, it's even worse, because at least here I have the will to end my life!"

Clutch.

Tron's hands clutched Morbia's neck, he choked her with cruel determination in his eyes. The veins in his arms surged, turning blue lines beneath his pale skin.

"I don't want to be your servant. I don't want to disappear, but... unlike you, I have nothing to lose."

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Morbia's fists slammed into Tron's stomach, he grimaced in pain, but it didn't have the desired effect.

Disbelief covered Morbia's face.

'What...? How can that bastard be so tough?' Morbia frowned heavily, muscles of her face quivering, 'No... The whole point is that he's still the Blank! Fuck, he's only getting a fraction of my impact, I screwed up.'

The clock arrow moved, showing that only 30 seconds remained, and...

Black clots emerged from Tron's body, growing thicker and more active with each passing second.

The Eye only smirked, showing a scarlet grin from the darkness, enjoying the first-class show.

A furious scream ripped from Morbia's throat.

"FUCK YOU! You're going to kill us both!" 

Her gaze darted to the watch once more.

"Fine! You don't want to be a servant? Don't want to die? Don't want to go back to the gray world? So what do you want then?!"

Tron gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot, his black eye filled with desire from the abyss within him, when a call of his heart blasted:

"I WANT TO REACH HAPPINESS!!!"