Uriel didn't understand. Save him? How? He was dead, but to be able to bring someone back to life?

  It should be impossible.

  He thought for a moment before saying, "Save me?! Y-you'll save me?!"

  There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again.

  "Yes, I'll save you. Do you want to be saved?"

  Even though he had no body anymore, he could feel it — hope. He could be alive again.

  "Y-yes! Please save me. W-what do I have to do?!"

  The voice replied softly, as if it had caught him perfectly.

  "That's all you have to say. Ask me to save you."

  "Save me! Please, I don't want to be here!"

  An ache started to form in his lower abdomen, like a small fire lit inside him.

  It grew more and more, unrelenting.

  He clutched his stomach as the fire grew into a raging blaze, like white fire from a dragon's mouth.

  He screamed internally, head burning and dizzy. He was losing himself again, unable to do anything at all.

  At the same time, a ringing wailed in his head, louder and louder, unending in the suffering.

  The voice chuckled, as if amused.

  "Good."

  In a flash, his body was formed. It was the physical manifestation of his soul.

  He stood in a field. The sun was retreating and made the air and sky like that of spring in Eden.

  Unable to keep balance from the aftermath of his soul being formed, he fell to the ground.

  He coughed and choked on blood as his body was engulfed in violent flames painted in violet.

  They were burning bright and fast, like they were living and had just found food to feed upon.

  'Aaaahh! What is this?! H-help, help!' he thought.

  He rolled on the ground in agony, screaming and crying like a child, though his screams implied a darker tone.

  A man — a man was crying and wailing in pain like a child. What could possibly make a man hurt so much as to force such primal-like sounds?

  A woman atop a hill was sitting at a table. It looked as though it belonged in a noble's villa.

  She sat casually while sipping tea.

  The wind blew her white hair behind her peacefully. She interrupted the screams of agony and pain with her voice.

  "Come sit, Uriel."

  After what felt like hours, days, even weeks of torture and pain, Uriel finally became conscious again.

  His body was burnt black, chest ripped open and charred like the outside of coal from the raging flames.

  He clawed at the ground. His body, mind, and soul wailed in agony.

  "G-ge-get up? How am I supposed to get up? Look at me."

  Tears ran down from both eyes, blood gushing and splattering onto the perfectly trimmed grass.

  She looked at him indifferently.

  Still, as she sipped her tea, her white casual dress flapped in the wind ethereally, her thin and flat shoes matching perfectly with it.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  She sighed and waved her hand nonchalantly, his burns and injuries disappearing instantly.

  He gasped and wheezed, inhaling deeply for air as his lungs and throat cleared. The cavity in his chest closed and stitched itself back together.

  He trembled with pain, relief, and adrenaline from the shock. He looked at her as his eyes drooped, threatening unconsciousness.

  She smiled.

  It enraged him to his core, smiling at him as if he meant nothing, like he was only entertainment.

  He clawed at the ground with both hands, gripping at the grass and dirt beneath, trying, trying, over and again to get up.

  To land a hit on her condescending face.

  To wipe that smile off was his ultimate goal in life at that minute moment, to show he wasn't a roach, that he wasn't less, that he was strong.

  He thought, his voice tight and enraged.

  'Who do you think you are? Do you think you're better than me? I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you!'

  His mind suddenly cleared, pristine, like the sky on an Autumn night.

  His brain finally stopped pounding against his skull.

  The hemorrhaging was gone too.

  Uriel got up slowly, his body and legs weak.

  He looked at her, still sitting and sipping tea like it was daily offering time.

  Who was she? Was she the voice? What was she? His posture was hunched, legs shaking violently.

  She stopped sipping tea and said to him casually, her voice obviously the same to the unknown one from before.

  "Come sit, have tea with me, Uriel." Her tone implied she was in charge.

  He walked over to her slowly, as slow as a cripple man.

  He gritted his teeth, fingers curling into a fist.

  A loud and hard thwack rang in the air longer than possible. His blow connected to her jaw.

  Her expression grew darker as she wiped the blood from the edge of her mouth, her cheek red.

  She glared at him, then smiled, her smile fake and predator-like.

  "Good, good, that's what I wanted. Someone obviously mocks you, you fight back, as you should," her tone was controlled, like she was holding something in.

  He felt a shiver down his spine at her unfaltered tone.

  He sat down and grabbed a cup of tea.

  "Who are you?" he said, gauging her reaction.

  His chest still burned, still felt like it was ripped open from the inside out.

  She smiled, her violet eyes gleaming at him.

  "My name is Ileven, the Witch of Violet." His head throbbed at the name. Ileven? The Ileven?

  He smirked, setting his teacup down.

  "Hmm, Ileven? I don't believe you. How could the witch from the war in 15D be sitting across from me?"

  His hands trembled slightly. He knew she wasn't lying, but he had to make sure.

  She scoffed lightly as she saw his hands trembling, her glowing violet eyes piercing his.

  "You don't believe me? Hahaha, that's good. But you do believe me. You know it's the truth."

  Uriel urgently thought, 'My plan backfired, well, I didn't have a real plan anyway.' Her hands went to her chin, resting it on them.

  She interrupted the moment of silence, her tone had cadence. "Tell me, do you believe in life after death?"

  Uriel looked at her. She had caught him.

  He said flatly, "Yes, I do believe in life after death. Aegis and Grammel, the Holy and Unholy realms which house the souls of the dead."

  A moment passed.

  He rubbed his temple as a small headache sprouted from the depths of his consciousness.

  He thought, 'Is she doing this? Fuck, it's annoying.'

  She smirked and chuckled lightly, her eyes showing a mental state of control.

  "This isn't either of those, and you know it."

  His muscles tensed, eyebrows furrowed.

  "This is the Void, the one place people like us go, the place you neither live nor die, exist and don't exist. You felt it earlier, didn't you?"

  His teeth gritted at her words. He knew, but he didn't want to believe it. The sensations he felt earlier were the exact same as what the Void is told to feel like.

  "So? What does it matter whether I'm here or not?" he said cautiously.

  She stood up, figure slim, dress flowing perfectly to match her body. Her pale skin like a ghost, her slender arms and legs moved like an apparition of a forgotten soul.

  She moved behind him and leaned down, arms wrapping around his chest and torso. She whispered, "Because it means I can have fun with you. You do wish to live again, don't you?"

  He watched as her arms wrapped around him like a wolf does to a lamb's throat, like she caught the perfect prey. Her words and demeanor only made it more obvious.

  That, that was the truth.

  "Bring me back?! How would that be possible?!" he uttered, desperately.

  Her smirk widened as his words escaped his mouth. "I am the violet witch, aren't I?"

  Her tone was calm, too calm.

  He nodded. "I suppose you are, so how will you bring me back?" He went to sip tea again.

  She unwrapped her arms and sat back down, crossing her legs.

  "You have to make a contract with me, easy enough, right?" A contract? Why a contract? What's her plan?

  "A contract? You want me to make a contract with you? Hmm, what'll be the contract rules?"

  She sipped her tea, obviously not caring whether he believed she was the Violet Witch or took the contract deal.

  "You have to entertain me. In return, I'll bring you back as much as you need."

  What?! What kind of contract is that? A contract like that is basically free.

  'Whether she's planning something or not, it doesn't matter anymore. I want to live.'

  "Deal."

  She clapped her hands twice in quick succession.

  "Good, now go entertain me." She flicked her hand dismissively.

  "Oh, there is one more thing I forgot to mention. You must become… a King; a Rank nine Trial three being. If you don't…? You'll die completely, ending up here with me for eternity."

  He flinched at her words. His jaw tightened. Becoming a King? How could he do that when he's not even a Rank one Trial one, the lowest Rank?!

  "W-what?! How am I supposed to do that?! You know I've never taken a trial before, so how can I?!"

  She smiled widely, but it didn't reach her eyes. His mind reeled. It felt as if he was being pulled. It was pulling and pulling, further and further back to life.

  Everything went white. There was nothing except him.