Read Clone Seeker :: Shattered Soul

The experience of traveling through the river of time was, in a word, exotic. It felt unnatural and unwelcoming as if the very audacity to attempt such a feat sparked the world’s fury into a frenzy. It always allowed for its natures to be shattered before, yet today Ciel discovered that there are a few laws which the world seemed to guard more fiercely from disruption.

His soul traversed through an expanse of information, all of it assaulting it with tenacious vehemence, as if alive. It was overwhelming. Ciel felt as if he had come to know everything, he understood the smallest details of which governed the world’s most ancient laws. He understood its grand machinations just the same.

And yet he was unable to retain any of it, how could he? He lacked a mind to process it, and even if it was present, the sheer quantity of knowledge would be too vast for such an organic machine, even one as magnificent as the human brain, to bear.

His soul was no exception either. Ciel could feel it being pulled into all directions, stretched almost infinitely. Yet like a stubborn rubber band it did not tear, holding together through great strife of will. Ciel’s own consciousness was weak, but he could feel enough to understand that he was afraid, terrified even.

He wanted to scream, but couldn’t for he lacked the organ to do so. He failed to cry for that very same reason as well. All that held him together was a strange connection, that of his Concept Accommodation. At first it glowed weakly within his soul, like a dying ember. Then slowly, as he traveled further into the river of time, fighting against its furious current.

His connection grew stronger, then stronger still. Soon his soul shone with a white radiance as the number of humans alive increased the further back he went.

IT… WILL… HOLD?!

That was the only thought Ciel managed to form through his weak fading consciousness. He felt hope, even if his current self lacked the clarity to realize it. He needed this to work after all, for failure meant the end to everything.

For a moment his soul held, but only for a moment. Not long after it began to fail.

His soul, stretched out as it was and supported only by the single concept, suffered yet another terrible pull. This pull finally caused even the shine within its center to be mangled.

The radiant orb, his world anchor, his Concept Accommodation, began to split itself. First into two, then three, then eventually twenty two orbs of bright lights shone distinctively within his soul. His Concept Accommodation had failed to resist the unimaginable force for long enough.

Shortly after, the single soul shattered, and twenty two pieces fell onto the river of time.

At that moment, Ciel felt himself lose something so indescribable that it paralyzed his very existence, engulfing him with only a single domineering sensation.

Cold… Profound coldness.

That sensation bathed him for an eternity until finally even that came to an end.

The surging stream of information raddled him one final time before he felt his broken self, whatever was left, suddenly fall and soon his consciousness dissipated, entering an empty black void.

*****

Darkness, all that was is darkness. All that could be was not, leaving only black emptiness.

Is this death?

The sensation of feeling nothing was not unfamiliar to Ciel. He had died a few times before after all. What he felt now was different, the very fact that he felt anything at all pushed against his initial desire to declare himself dead.

Then as his mind began to churn properly once more, he commanded his muscles to move and his eyes to blink. They obeyed and soon his arms and legs met a hard surface.

THUNK

Is that wood?

He questioned as his eyes blinked five more times at a rapid speed. Still they failed to adjust to the light. That was only natural however, since light did not reach the place which he found himself in.

I can’t see… No light huh.

He waited for a moment more and finally his sensations returned to him. Immediately his body was assaulted by a deep cold. His very skin was freezing.

Somewhat perplexed, Ciel first touched his body. Beyond his cold flesh, he found that he wore ragged clothing. Torn short pants and a simple shirt with many holes on them. He could not discern what color they were, not that such a detail held any importance.

Hmm. Perhaps it did work. Have I returned to my younger self? If so then why?

Back then, Ciel had aimed for a very specific time. One which he felt he could best accomplish his goal. That was to the year 183 AJ, when he was at the age of 15, roughly 13 years into the past. By now his parents would have already passed away and he would be living in the slums, perhaps even already having his first encounters with the Red Tiger Gang which ruled the outskirts of district 11’s western edge.

His home back then was a run down hole under an apartment plaza in the same sorry state. It was a simple home which lacked many necessities of a comfortable life, however he did have candle lights and it was far more spacious than this wretched space he found himself in.

The more he thought it through, the more confusion piled in on itself. Eventually Ciel simply gave up. He would reach no conclusions without further action, and so that was what he did.

Reaching out to the surface of the wooden structure he found himself in, his cold fingers caressed its ragged body, taking note of its details.

Weak… Of very poor material? No, perhaps simply old.

He touched it for a few more seconds until finally his moving fingers halted. They then pressed into a fist and…

THUNK!

Three swift punches was all it took for the wooden surface of the structure to collapse and just as it did, a stream of sand began to pour inside. Feeling that sensation touch his skin, Ciel’s green eyes showed a spark of understanding.

So that’s it huh…

He was inside a wooden coffin, somehow buried alive.

That revelation did not ignite any emotion within him. Neither fear or joy, but merely understanding. Satisfied with his new enlightenment in regards to his previously unknown situation. Ciel immediately began to take action.

His body wiggled, pushing the influx of soil to his back. At the same time, he unleashed more concentrated punches to the surface of the wooden coffin, tearing the hole wider and increasing the current of dirt.

He did this until his hands bled, then continued long past that. When he finally managed to damage the structure of the coffin enough so that the weight of the soil above collapsed it, he would spend the next hour struggling to move and slowly dig himself out.

He sunk his hands deep into the soil, used every muscle at his disposal, until finally two fingers pierced the surface of the ground. They jerked vigorously until more popped out to the surface. Soon the entire hand was out, then a dirt filled face, then an abdomen, until finally the last to part with the soil, a pair of legs.

Ciel dragged himself forward a few meters before stopping. Only after this moment of rest did he realize something, this entire time, his lungs had yet to grasp for a single piece of air. His heart was no different, refusing to start its diligent work even now.

Perhaps I am dead after all. Or at least I was…