Those Who Fall from Great Heights Often Die of Heart Attacks First
I returned to where I'd started, carrying a pair of enormous scissor blades that looked rather impressive.
And waiting for me was a fact so shocking I could scarcely believe my own eyes.
"W-wait... huh? Where did the path go?"
The styrofoam boards that had clearly been the path I'd come by had vanished without a trace.
The moment I registered it, terror crawled up my spine.
What on earth was going on? Was there someone else here besides me?
That anxious thought froze me solid for a moment, but a certain mark on the floor quickly restored my composure.
"This is..."
I crouched down and shone my flashlight on the mark. It was something pitch-black, like tar.
When I lightly brushed it with a finger, it clung thickly to my skin like some kind of sap.
The sensation wasn't unfamiliar at all. If anything, in this dump of a place, it was all too familiar.
...I've seen traces like this all over this scrapyard. Mostly on things that had become completely unusable.
How to define the nature of this sap?
If I were to form a hypothesis: I believed some force was at work in this dark space, gnawing away at objects.
In other words, this pitch-black sap was the final form of objects that had been eaten away and melted by the space itself.
That would also explain why most of the materials in the scrapyard had been ruined beyond recognition.
So how long could a styrofoam board that would crumble under a single footstep possibly last? Its collapse was only natural.
"Should I have spent more CP...? But even styrofoam costs a fair amount when you're building a whole path..."
It was a real predicament. If only it had collapsed after I'd gotten home. What a bolt from the blue.
Still, this was far better than some unknown third party secretly cutting off my path.
...Just thinking there might be someone of unknown identity around was scary, right? I didn't exactly need sleep, but I wouldn't be able to rest properly either.
So having the path simply break like this was actually more comforting — I just needed to create the path again the same way as before and climb back up.
"Alright then... time to remake the path."
Styrofoam boards!
I planted my hands on the floor, vividly picturing the image in my mind, and called it out.
I'd grown fairly used to the Creation ability by now, but for an accurate result I still needed to concentrate a little more carefully.
"...Huh?"
But then... something unexpected happened.
I clearly felt the Creation ability flowing smoothly as it consumed the CP inside me — and yet nothing happened.
Why? I stared at my palm with a thoroughly serious expression.
About three weeks since becoming Nia's body. I'd used Creation dozens of times by now, but this was a first.
I'd had results come out completely misshapen before, sure — but never a complete absence of any result at all.
"...Teddy bear, rubber duck, aspartame. ...Why? Why isn't it working?"
Even more baffling was that I still felt the CP — the cost of Creation — disappearing as usual.
Every condition and sensation was identical, yet no result appeared. A bizarre situation.
With a somewhat anxious look, I lifted my head toward the faint light of home and bit my lip.
Don't tell me... can Creation only be used inside the house? Not outside?
Come to think of it, this was the first time I'd used Creation after stepping outside the door.
When preparing gear for outings, or even when making the path, I'd always done it sitting at the entrance.
If that was the case, this was no laughing matter. If I truly couldn't use Creation outside...
"Th-then I can't get home...!"
Ten meters in height alone, sixteen meters horizontally.
I had no way to reach that distant place.
The front door stood wide open, light still spilling through the gap — and yet all I could do was stare.
"Th-this is bad... I'm completely..."
Screwed! I clutched my head and couldn't help but scream.
Twenty minutes into being stranded.
I sat cross-legged with my arms folded, wearing an expression of deep concentration.
"Hmm... piling up trash to climb up is pretty unrealistic, isn't it."
I was trying to figure out a way out of this situation.
As far as I knew, this was a strange space with no trace of human presence whatsoever.
Meaning nobody was coming to save me. I had to find my own way home.
But that raised a problem. A rather serious one.
"Ugh... one wrong move and I could fall into that bottomless pit below. Even assuming it's only dozens of meters deep, that's instant death. Instant death."
The main issue was... that beneath the studio apartment I was trying to return to lay a deep pit of unknown depth.
If shining a flashlight from here still couldn't reveal the bottom, it had to be at least dozens of meters deep.
So the plan of stacking scrapyard junk to climb up was basically a non-starter.
That also ruled out simply running and jumping. The risk was far too high.
"Haa. If I'd known I couldn't use Creation out here, I would've prepared more carefully before leaving... I still have over a hundred thousand CP left!"
I was the one who'd been a bit careless and caused this, but somehow I still felt wronged.
If I'd known in advance, I would have spent more than half those points on preparations.
Why was I such an idiot? All I'd needed to do was take one step outside the door and try Creating something!
The cold sense of defeat filling my chest made my body tip forward of its own accord.
I ended up bracing myself on my knees and hands in a defeated pose just to keep from collapsing, and a gloomy voice slipped from my lips.
"Uuu... I want to cry."
I was completely done for. At this rate I'd end up buried among this dark, useless scrapyard, rotting away with the rest of it.
I'm sorry, viewers of this world. You came all this way for my debut, and I might have to graduate as of today.
Whimper. A prickling sensation at the corners of my eyes, and moisture began to well up.
Had becoming Nia's body heightened my sensitivity too? Holding back these rising tears was incredibly hard. Damn it.
Is there really no way? Is giving up the right thing to do?
Then, suddenly, a serious question rose quietly in my mind.
And the answer to that question was... no. Absolutely not. Because I still hadn't reclaimed Nia's stream!
So this was no time to wallow in tears. I had to find a way — any way at all.
"Nia is an idol who never gives up... so let's try to follow even a quarter of a quarter of that...!"
I clenched my molars, forced my arms and legs that felt heavy as waterlogged wood to move, rose to my feet, and steeled myself with a deep breath.
And the first thing I did after steeling myself was... take another look at the belongings I had on me.
"What I've got right now is a bag with stuff in it, a flashlight, a stick, a short three-meter rope, and that big scissor blade I picked up earlier..."
I roughly dumped my gear on the floor and checked each item carefully.
But those disconnected objects only raised a new question of what help they could possibly be.
Wait a second. Speaking of rope...
"...I definitely made a long rope earlier when I came down, for the climb back up. Maybe it fell somewhere nearby...?"
I took my flashlight and leaned out over the pit where the styrofoam path had been.
A twenty-two-meter rope I'd secured in advance for the ascent. If that was still there, it would be more helpful than anything else right now.
"There it is! The rope! It's caught on a scrap metal pile!"
And luckily enough, I could confirm something that looked like the rope snagged down below.
Knowing it was there, recovering it wasn't hard.
I just needed to carefully climb down like scaling a rock face and fish it out with a stick.
"Aside from the ends being a bit corroded, it's still usable. Durability... looks fine."
Truly hopeful news. It seemed mainly the fixed ends had corroded, while the middle portion was fairly intact.
If it was intact enough to use without issue, I could make it work somehow.
For instance, tying this rope to a stick and hurling it upward with all my might to bridge the path to the studio.
...Is that the right way to use it? Is there a more efficient way to use this rope?
But thinking again, the idea of tying a rope to a stick and throwing it up had some flaws.
First I had to consider where to throw it for a proper hold.
And even if it caught, would this rope safely bear my weight?
What if the rope snapped mid-climb? Eek! I didn't even want to imagine it.
"Another way... another waaay... nothing."
Unfortunately, nothing else came to mind. Maybe my brain just wasn't that sharp.
Ten meters was roughly the height of a three-story building. So I was essentially proposing to climb onto a three-story rooftop with a stick and a rope.
And I'd have to hang and climb the line, making it even harder.
"...Still, with my physical abilities, it's not completely unrealistic. The problem is how to connect the rope up there, though."
I glanced down at my self-defense stick.
Just an unimpressive ordinary stick. Rope aside, this thin thing didn't look like it would safely hold my weight.
So something else? Going that route, there was one item that seemed somewhat promising.
"How about this? Looks a bit sturdier."
It was the giant scissor blade I'd happened to pick up on the way.
Unlike the self-defense stick, it had a handle that made tying a rope easy, and it held firm even when I gripped it hard — durability seemed decent.
I was a bit uneasy that it was something I'd found rather than made myself, but trying with this still looked more promising.
"...Let's go with this. Tie the rope to the end and throw it nearby. Hooo... I can do this."
Further fretting wouldn't change anything. So I steeled myself and decided to push through.
Preparations were complete. Securely tie the rope to the scissor blade tip and throw with all my might.
Even if it didn't reach nearby... I could snatch the line and recover it quickly.
As long as the rope didn't snap mid-throw, the risk wasn't that high.
This has a blade, so aim for the ceiling. Target is roughly... that spot not far from the entrance!
So I gripped the scissor blade reverse-handed like throwing a spear and hurled it toward the ceiling with all my strength.
"Hyaaaah!"
With a mighty shout, the scissor blade cut through the air and shot upward.
Then, with a hard impact sound of something striking... the blade sank smoothly into the ceiling.
The rope whistled as it shot up with that rapid motion, but I didn't let my guard down and quickly grabbed the line.
"D-did it work...?"
I carefully pulled the rope with just enough force not to snap it.
But it seemed properly fixed — neither the rope nor the scissor blade showed any sign of coming down.
A clean first-try success.
"The real part starts now... Deep breath... Let's go!"
But this was only solving one step. The real trial... was from here on.
With a trembling feeling, I gripped the rope tightly, shouldered the bag with all my gear, and hopped up from where I stood.
The rope instantly swung me to the position of the embedded scissor blade.
In a flash the world below became pitch-black darkness, and my eyes spun while my heart shrank to the size of a bean.
U-uuugh...! I feel like I'm gonna wet myself...! I'm scared...!
Then don't look down. Looking wouldn't change anything.
I squeezed my eyes shut, looked up, and somehow endured until the rope's motion stabilized.
When the pendulum swing fully stopped and I hung vertically beneath the scissor blade...
I swallowed hard, put strength into my arms, and began slowly climbing the rope.
My arms naturally trembled and my palms grew slick with sweat, making force control difficult...
But apparently my arm strength had no trouble at all lifting a body of mere dozens of kilos.
"Just a little... just a little more...!"
Heave, heave.
Climbing slowly toward my goal like a spider ascending its web, I finally came within reach of my destination.
Just a few more meters and it would be over — I could safely enter home.
Tension naturally eased, and I could hold hope that this nightmare was ending — and in that moment.
Suddenly, snap. The rope broke.
"Uh."
The instant I registered it, goosebumps erupted across my whole body, and overwhelming terror seized my heart.
They say people who fall sometimes die of heart attacks from the sudden terror.
I could fully understand that saying. Because with a feeling like this, of course your heart would stop.
"...Uwaaaaah!!"
But that terror in turn ignited my survival instinct, driving one hand to my waist.
Hanging at my waist was the three-meter rope. I grabbed one end and swung it upward with all my strength, as if hurling it.
The rope snaked through the air and wound tightly around the wide-open front door...
"Augh!"
With considerable strain on my arm, I somehow managed to stop in place.
"Huff, huff... uuuugh... I-I thought I was gonna die..."
Good thing this body had no physiological functions. Even without any actual urine, I felt like I'd wet my pants.
Perhaps from the sudden exertion, I climbed the rope in a half-haggard state and barely made it home.
"I'm done..."
Completely drained, I collapsed in a heap at the entrance and spent dozens of minutes just calming my heart.
Along with the thought: yeah... outside is dangerous.