SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 68: Haleth’s Memory Echo

Chapter 68: Haleth’s Memory Echo

"God damn deja vu!"

Mikel tossed his bag aside, clutched the lantern in one hand, and jumped into the river again. The water barely resisted him, as if it was inviting him this time.

He crossed it quickly, his shoes sloshing with every step, mist curling at his legs as he entered the forest once more.

But this time, the moment he reached the last tree line, the angry mob had already lit their torches and thrown them at the chapel.

"Shit—!"

Mikel stepped forward—

SPLASH!

His foot hit water again.

A second later, his hand slapped the riverbank, and he pulled himself up, drenched from head to toe. He emerged from the river water, cursing as he turned to find his lantern and bag, both safely lying on the surface.

"Damn it..." he hissed.

At times like this, he couldn’t help but think that having Doom’s unnecessary commentary was not all bad. However, there was no screen, no helpful sarcastic remarks.

It was just Mikel and this trial.

Just him and Haleth.

No third party. No system prompts.

"I thought this was supposed to be easy," he muttered, snatching the lantern and slinging the bag over his shoulder.

He stormed across the river again, this time not bothering to tiptoe. He moved fast, pushing through the forest mist until the chapel came into view.

The first time he’d reached this point, the mob hadn’t started the fire yet.

The second time, they were already torching the place.

If he was right, the loop was closing in. And if he didn’t figure this out soon, he wouldn’t make it back before the lantern’s flame died.

"Monsters!"

"Occult!"

"You all must burn for your blasphemous act!"

Mikel gritted his teeth and sprinted. This time, he didn’t hesitate to break through the tree line head-on.

For the first time, his foot hit solid ground.

Good — progress!

He looked up. The mob hadn’t seen him yet; they were too busy screaming at the church. He spotted a small broken window to the side, but it was blocked from the inside.

But this time, he heard a scream from inside the chapel, although he didn’t hear what was said.

"Burn them!"

"Burn those who protect the monsters!"

The crowd roared again, snapping Mikel back into motion. He stepped forward just as one of the men approached the chapel wall with a torch.

"Hey—!" he shouted, then another step with a louder, "Hey —!"

SPLASH!

Goddamit!

Water surged into his mouth, gagging him. Mikel grimaced as he clawed his way out of the river again, coughing. He pulled a stringy weed from his throat and tossed it aside.

"What the hell is this trial?" he rasped. "How can I do anything if I keep falling in this river?!"

The vein in his forehead protruded, getting more annoyed at the repetitive actions. It felt like no matter what he would do, he would end up in this river.

"Screw it," he hissed, shaking his head. "Calm down. Getting angry will not resolve it."

Mikel exhaled slowly, letting the frustration come out along with it. Once his mind cleared, Haleth’s trial instruction echoed back.

"Escort the lost spirit across the river without using force or intimidation," he repeated under his breath.

And the trial would end when the lantern’s flame went out.

Mikel turned to check the lantern.

The candle and its flame inside the lantern had shrunk just a little.

And according to Doom, it would go out in thirty minutes. Mikel’s rough estimate since he started... he maybe have twenty minutes left.

He looked back at the other side of the forest, about to cross it again because he couldn’t afford to waste even a second. But before he could, he paused.

"Huh?" His brows furrowed.

Raising the lantern, Mikel held it over the river. Water splashed with each step, but the current didn’t resist him anymore. Once he reached the other side, he scanned the misty forest, then glanced back at where he had come from.

"Holy..." he breathed out, eyes widening.

Both sides of the river... looked exactly the same. Same crooked tree. Same jagged rock lodged by the edge. Even the broken ledge crumbling into the water was identical.

It felt like the river was a mirror.

For a second, Mikel just stayed dipped, stunned.

"Now that I think about it... I was in that chapel, and the church is on that side," he murmured. "It’s weird, but maybe it’s worth trying."

Without wasting a second, he crossed back. The river parted with familiar splashes. When he reached the bank, he picked up his bag and sprinted toward the chapel.

He didn’t expect much from this theory. But if he was right... then maybe he had been going on the wrong side of the river all along.

That would explain why he could barely get past the tree line.

Taking the same path he had before, Mikel slowed when he saw light flickering ahead. Upon reaching the last tree line, he propped a hand on a tree to catch his breath.

Lifting his eye, his breath hitched.

The chapel was there.

Not burnt. Not surrounded by an angry mob. Not abandoned.

There were lights around it—lanterns, like the one in his hand. The grounds were clear of any overgrown weeds.

"It’s not burning yet," he whispered.

His eyes moved past the clearing across the chapel and saw the distant outline of the other tree line. All that was in there was nothing but silence and the fog from the forest.

He shook his head and refocused on the matter. Mikel set his attention back to the church.

Instead of approaching the main entrance, Mikel crept along the side of the building, ducking beneath a window. He carefully peeked up to check what was happening inside.

Inside, a few nuns sat in the pews, heads bowed in prayer.

"Am I supposed to save this church?" he muttered. "But that wouldn’t change the past, would it?"

As he weighed his options, something rustled behind him.

He tensed and instinctively turned. His fist clenched, ready to throw a punch since his cursed relics weren’t allowed in this trial.

But instead of a threat, he found an elderly man in a faded priest’s robe.

"What are you doing there, Haleth?" the priest asked, narrowing his eyes. "Did you sneak out again?"

Mikel froze, his face twitching. He gripped the lantern in his hand, its flame flickering as if it were disturbed.

Haleth?!

The elderly priest shook his head. "Let’s go inside, Haleth — and put that lantern back where it should."

With that, the priest turned around and walked.

Meanwhile, Mikel pointed at himself before he gazed down. His mouth fell, seeing that he was not wearing the same drenched jeans and shirt. What was wrapped around him was a brown robe like a seminarian’s.

"..."

"Haleth," the priest called again, looking back at Mikel.

Mikel gulped and scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah... sure."

And just like that, he followed the priest to the entrance. But before the priest entered, he looked back at Mikel.

Mikel cleared his throat as he reached up, putting back the lantern where the real Haleth had taken it before the trial began. However, as he placed it back, he noticed that the flame was dimming, but its wax seemed to melt faster.

Time was running out.

He didn’t say anything about it as he secured it, taking a step forward. But then he paused when he heard a whisper from behind him.

"They’re coming."

They’re coming? Does he mean the angry mob?

"Haleth," the priest called again, more firmly this time. "What are you waiting for? Go inside."

Mikel looked up at the priest, his eyes sharp. This time, he didn’t say a word as he heard another whisper from behind him.

"They’ll be here."

The door creaked behind Mikel as it shut, leaving the whisper outside for no one to hear.

"... leave."

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