Page 291 of Light Leech

I turned to the floor.

“What is the cost of knowledge?” I read.

I moved onto the next sentence.

“What must one sacrifice to step above the simple minds of the world?”

I focused on the words. My feet moved in sync with my thoughts. The more I read, the farther I ran.

“One must sacrifice time.

“Other pursuits.

“Forsake unworthy endeavors for that which they desire.

“Those who fail have fallen victim to the ignorance and vain pursuits of the world.”

The platitudes were replaced by a comprehensive overview of the Republic’s history since the old China combined with what had once been the United States. Was the author of this aware of what the world truly was? Was the Correction behind this Test as we presumed? Were these tales of ancient nations the history of this world or the previous?

The questions slowed my pace to a halt.

I glanced up before continuing, seeing that I was not the only one whose introspection delayed their progress.

“None of this makes any zegging sense!” a man behind me shouted. He focused on the ground, reading and mumbling under his breath. From what I could hear, the words he spoke did not match those below.

I glanced down, reading the words while thinking about his frustration as the same emotions built up within me.

It took a moment to clear my head, but once I did, my progression continued.

Not only did I have to read but comprehend the words below me.

As my speed increased, so did my cognitive lethargy. Every sentence was a glass of poison, bringing me closer to the frustration of those who could not move in their refusal to learn.

Requisite learning for progression.

It was not a foreign concept in a world that forced you to educate yourself on its terms to integrate with society, but I was not fond of the idea that this system had requisite learning and comprehension to progress. I did not mind refreshing myself with the history of the Republic’s founding–despite the omission of the false Earth–but wondered if I would have to comprehend and believe further information that I refused to believe or follow.

Turning back again, I saw other competitors pounding on the floor in frustration, screaming like infantile pupils who refused to learn. I would have laughed at their behavior if I had not felt like doing the same.

Without the weight of the world on me, I would have joined them. Any scholarship or promise of Pure Knowledge wasn’t worth making my mind move as slow as a Jelly Fiend. I felt like a coward to think of surrendering, but I had never been so exhausted. It wasn’t as simple as being tired of studying, nor was it the desire to stare at a wall.

I did not want to think.

I did not want to live in my mind. I did not want a mind. Thinking was pain and I wanted relief.

Against this, one thought prevailed.

I can’t fail them.

Ralia. Boyband. Naoma. Every human who believed that there was more to the world than consumerism and subjugation to corporations.

That thought–though difficult to grasp–was enough inspiration for me to look up.

There was an end.

A violet veil stood ahead, no longer than one hundred meters away.

I didn’t care if it was the end of the course or a mere illusion. I could not continue through this endless course without the promise of an end. This was enough.