Chapter 508: Death of Schiller (2)
"Drip—drip—drip—"
A sharp and ear-piercing alarm sounded in Marc's ears. "Formerly" known as Marc sat up from the sickbed, taking deep breaths and looking around in confusion. Where was he?
He glanced at the machine emitting sounds and saw a heart rate monitor. Marc instinctively reached out and touched his chest. His heart was still beating, and it beat steadily.
Surveying his surroundings from the bed, Marc lifted the sheets and got off the sickbed. He noticed some papers on the wall by the door, displaying schedules for medication and other related information.
Just as Marc was trying to decipher information from those texts, his room door was suddenly knocked. He cautiously stood up as the door opened, turning his head to see a person who looked exactly like him standing outside.
The person had a cold expression and impatiently said, "Why are you still lingering here? Come with me!"
Without understanding what was happening, Marc was suddenly rushed as the person entered the room. The person grabbed Marc's arm, pulling him out. After being pulled outside, Marc finally reacted. He forcefully pushed the person away and assumed a defensive posture, asking, "Who are you?"
The person turned around, glancing up and down at Marc, and still coldly stated, "I'm Jack, your alter ego. When you were unconscious or lacked awareness, it was me controlling the body."
The answer was so clear that it left Marc stunned. He looked at himself, then at Jack, and said, "So, do I really have dissociative identity disorder?"
"But where is this? How did we end up here? What happened before this?"
"Come with me." Jack didn't even glance back, walking to the other side of the corridor while explaining, "Just recently, I died."
His first sentence shocked Marc immensely. Marc caught up with him, asking while walking, "Died? Are you saying this is hell?"
"Close enough, they call this the Underworld."
"This can't be real, are you joking?!"
However, at that moment, they reached the end of the corridor. Jack pushed open the door at the end, revealing a massive creature with the head of a hippopotamus and the body of a human.
Before the hippo-like being could speak, Jack interrupted, "I know, I'm already dead now. This is Duat, the Underworld. You are Taweret, the guardian deity of women and children. Please step aside."
The hippo being's greeting hand froze in mid-air. But then, she suddenly exclaimed, and in a moment, the scene shattered. Marc realized they were now on a boat, and there was another person on the boat — Schiller.
Schiller was leaning over the side of the boat, attempting to retrieve something from below. The hippo hurried over, grabbing his collar and pulling him up. Angrily, she scolded, "What are you doing? I told you not to reach out!"
Marc, standing behind Jack, puzzledly asked, "Schiller? Wait a second, are you Schiller? Why do you look so young?"
The Schiller before Marc was excessively youthful, appearing to be less than 20 years old, a far cry from the Schiller he had seen in reality. Their auras were also vastly different.
At least for now, the Schiller being held by the collar by the hippo looked like an unruly bear cub who wasn't adhering to boat safety regulations...
"A plan? What plan?"
"It's a bit complex. Let him explain it to you." Jack stepped aside, and standing behind him was Schiller in a white coat.
"Hello, Marc. It's been a while. I know you have many questions now, but we can take our time. Because this boat is going to the destination I want to reach, it might take a while."
As Schiller's words fell, Marc saw that under the control of numerous Schillers, the boat started deviating from its original course. It even made a 180-degree turn in place, beginning to move backward.
The hippopotamus sat on the ground, devastated, crying loudly. One Schiller held some grass and fed it to her. The hippo cried while munching, leaving a mixture of grass and tears around her big mouth.
"As the respected High Priest of the Moon God Khonshu, I have listened carefully to his teachings. He once said that as followers of the Egyptian pantheon, we have a chance of resurrection."
"After death, Egyptian followers will board a boat. On the boat, a ferryman will take out the believer's heart and place it on a scale, like this..."
Schiller took a scale from another Schiller's hand. On one side of the scale was a feather. Schiller pointed at the feather and said, "If the believer's heart is placed on the other side of the scale and it's heavier than the feather, it means the believer is a criminal. They will be thrown under the boat, where endless skeletons will devour them."
"But if the heart is lighter than the feather, the opposite is true. They can go to the reed fields and have a chance at rebirth."
"Through a certain way, I know that Death in this world isn't as simple as it seems. There's a more advanced rule restraining all beings in Space after death, directing them towards a singular destination. Therefore, I was curious about this Egyptian rule, what enables the Egyptian pantheon to break this rule and allow the dead to resurrect?"
"I believe you've noticed, there are many intriguing aspects in this process."
"I have a hypothesis. If the Egyptian pantheon can truly break the rule of Death, resurrecting the dead directly, why set up processes like boarding the boat, sailing, and judgment? Why not just let people resurrect directly?"
"So, I think that the process of rowing and judgment must be the key."
"So you've taken control of this boat?" Marc asked in disbelief, raising his voice, "Are you insane?! How could you... how could you..."
Marc couldn't fathom such behavior. Schiller, however, remained indifferent to his attitude and continued:
"But what interests me even more is, just like you've experienced, before boarding the boat, you enter a spiritual world. In other words, you have a dream."
"So..." Schiller looked around at the surroundings, gazing at the enigmatic and ever-changing sky, then said, "Is this place truly the Underworld existing in reality? Or could it be..."
Marc was horrified to see that when Schiller uttered these words, all the Schillers turned their heads to look at this direction.
"Is this still a dream, and can this boat carry our Souls from the dream... into reality?"
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