Wind tears at my flesh like invisible claws, as if the sky itself is trying to skin me. It howls into my ears, a tune that no mortal must hear.

  How long have I been falling? Hours? Days? Time is but an abstract concept to me now.

  My eyes burn, pushed deep into their sockets by the velocity, and I can't close them. They're forced open, peeled wide to witness the descent.

  Tears stream back across my face, coating me in a thin, sticky membrane. It clouds my vision, but I don't care.

  I don’t want to see.

  Not this place. Not them.

  Not the shapes that leer at me from the churning darkness below.

  Shapes that do not belong to any taxonomy known to man. Things with too many limbs, or not enough. With orifices that weep, mouths that whisper sideways, and eyes that open only when unobserved. They do not move with grace nor malice, but with the right to be here. The way a storm has a right to thunder. The way gravity has a right to pull. The way fire has a right to burn.

  It is a set rule that these things may exist down here.

  I am the invader.

  They are watching me. All of them. Their attention is cold and amused. Not hateful. Amused.

  As if a curious little creature had leapt from safety into the abyss and screamed, “Look at me!”

  A fool.

  A fool.

  I’m falling, but it no longer feels like falling. It’s more like being unraveled. My sense of body is slipping away, strand by strand, like I’m being forgotten by reality.

  Like, I never fit in the first place. The longer I fall, the more the world above feels like fiction.

  I’m scared. I’m terrified.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  I don’t want to look.

  BuT i Do

  And they see that I do.

  The veil parts. A momentary, unforgivable clarity.

  This land…I can’t even call it that, not anymore; is a lattice of broken dimensions stitched together with writhing threads of concepts man was never meant to name. The air is a chasm. The sky weeps time.

  Mountains hum with the thoughts of sleeping minds so colossal that even dreaming stirs stars into madness.

  Sanity is no longer something I can hold. It’s a joke. A toy. A string cut and left to unravel.

  And I make a noise.

  It begins as a gurgle.

  Then it rises. Higher. Louder. Something between a cackle and a sob. Something raw, wet, unhinged. Not born from joy or irony or hysteria, but from the realization that everything I ever knew was a lie built to protect minds like mine from this.

  What is that rhythmic sound emanating from the recesses of my body?

  What is it?

  Ah, I’m laughing.

  For what else shall I do?

  Then—

  SPLAT.

  A sound without echo. A thud without pity. A smear across the earth. A ruined shape tangled with grass and stone and godless earth.

  Just flesh. Bone. A mind still faintly aware. A melting mosaic of muscle and thought.

  A joke.

  Their joke.

  The gods that dwell in the cracks of reality observe in silence. They do not cheer. They do not curse. They simply note.

  There is no longer ‘Kaito’.

  Only,

  "The Flying Fool."

  _________________________________________________________

  The sound of thumping.

  It’s louder this time.. Slowly inching closer.

  Hands gripping me all over.

  An upside-down castle.

  A woman sitting on a throne.

  “Dummy. That fish wasn’t good for you~.”

  _____________________________________________________

  “—Hgk!!”

  My lungs explode open like someone jammed a wire into my chest and flipped a switch.

  I hit the dirt hard. My knees slam into the grass, and I collapse onto my hands. The ground is cold and damp. It’s real. I’m awake. I’m alive.

  My stomach heaves to and fro. My arms are shaking, my chest is rattling, and it feels like my heart's trying to crawl out of my throat. Sweat pours off me in waves.

  It slicks down my spine, sticks my shirt to my skin, and makes everything feel ten times heavier.

  My eyes shake from side to side, trying to understand the environment around me. They’re most probably bloodshot, tears running down them.

  My hair clings to my face. My breathing, no wheezing, is a mess. I gasp. I wheeze. Each inhale stabs like knives into my ribs. I can't fill my lungs. I can’t stop shaking.

  Saliva drips from my mouth, hanging in thin strings before splashing to the ground. I’m trying my utmost not to hurl right then and there. My eyes won’t blink. I’m stuck like this, wide open, staring down at the dirt like it holds the answers.

  It doesn't.

  I never saw the future. I never saw the future.

  I truly died, in every sense of the word.

  It was too real to be some kind of premonition or dream. The impact of my body hitting the ground was too real.

  I do not remember what had happened in my journey into the dark, but I feel as if I should never do.

  My eyes trail down to my right, a faint white glow attracting their attention.

  That damned glowing skull stares into my soul, it’s hollow sockets almost curled in a deafening smile.

  My hands curl into fists. Nails dig into the soil. I can feel the dirt wedging under them, cutting at the skin. It stings, burns even, but it’s distant. A tiny ember in the middle of a wildfire.

  I want to cry. But I must hold it in. I must not cause a scene.

  My stomach churns again. I want to throw up. I want to stop moving.

  I can’t do this.

  I can’t look them in the eye after what I—

  “Kaito, you seem unwell.”

  The voice cuts through the haze like a blade. Raspy. Calm. Familiar.

  Kyros.

  He’s alive.

  He’s alive.

  But I killed him.

  The memory of it rips through my brain like a bullet. His face, his blood, that pearl. My body convulses before I can stop it.

  I can no longer hold it.

  A brief rattle inside my stomach seals the deal.

  “Khhka—!!”

  I gag violently, and bile pours from my mouth, splattering onto the ground. Bitter acid burns my throat as I, for a lack of better terms, shit it out my mouth.

  I cough. I choke. My whole body trembles as the wave of nausea crashes over me.

  I can’t breathe.

  They can’t see me like this.

  Kors’s body tenses at my sudden heaving of fluids, and instantly jumps to action.

  “Ms. Highergald!” Kyros calls behind him. “Something is wrong with Kaito!”

  “I-I’m fine!” I choke out, turning to whatever direction he just yelled at. It’s a lie, and I know it. Saliva and mucus run down my face, a clear contrast to my previous statement.

  Kyros grabs my arm.

  “We will treat you, please hang in there!”

  His hands are small and cold, stone-like, yet strong. Too strong. I try to pull away, but it’s like fighting a wall.

  “L-Let go! I said I’m fine!”

  “You clearly are unwell, Kaito!”

  He just lifts me up like I weigh nothing. I’m too weak to resist.

  Vomit clings to my lips. I wipe it away with my sleeve, scrubbing like that’s going to undo what I’ve done. The details of my vision are missing, like the world forgot to render.

  I’m panicking.

  I’m falling apart in front of them.

  And then, like a curse, it happens again.

  That voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  T H E?G I R L?I C H O K E D?T H E?L I F E?O U T?O F

  My eyes shoot toward her.

  Navi.

  Alive. Awake. Confused.

  Dead. Asleep. Confused.

  Walking back toward us.

  Her face is calm. Untouched. Innocent.

  But I remember her eyes going bloodshot.

  I remember her twitching.

  I remember—

  I remember crushing her throat with my own two hands.

  And now she’s here. Like it never happened.

  But it did.

  I can’t hold it together.

  “UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

  _____________________________________________________________________

  “Clang!”

  The sharp cry of metal against metal echoed through the trees. Sparks flared where the weapons met, casting fleeting light across the dark forest.

  Arivia twisted to the side, narrowly evading a downward strike from Zhenbai, who landed in front of her.

  “You’re surprisingly fast for someone carrying a weapon that size.”

  Zhenbai remarked, her tone casual, almost amused.

  Arivia said nothing. She countered with a wide horizontal swing of her longsword, aiming for her opponent’s torso.

  Zhenbai dodged easily, and the blade embedded itself into the trunk of a nearby tree with a dull thunk.

  Zhenbai hopped up onto the flat of the sword, arms folded across her chest. From atop it, she gazed down at Arivia with a smug glint in her eye.

  The expression made Arivia grit her teeth.

  It wasn’t that she lacked proficiency. Her skill with the longsword was refined. But in this densely wooded terrain, the weapon’s reach became a liability. Broad swings were impractical. Trees obstructed her path, giving Zhenbai every advantage.

  She was clearly exploiting it.

  Arivia would need to change tactics to focus on thrusts, tighter movements. Or resort to her trump card.

  Still perched on the blade, Zhenbai dropped into a crouch, then launched a swift kick toward Arivia’s head. Arivia ducked just in time, the air hissing above her hair.

  With a grunt of effort, she yanked the sword free from the tree. Zhenbai flipped backward midair and launched herself off the trunk, using the recoil to rocket toward her once more, scythes poised to strike.

  Arivia raised her blade and blocked the blow, though the sheer force pushed her several steps back.

  Rather than resist the knockback, she used it. Letting the momentum flow into her arms, Arivia turned into a full rotation, winding her body for another strike.

  Zhenbai scoffed. “Cool it. You’re not beating me head-on. Use your trump card, if you’ve got one.”

  The blade carved a vicious arc through the air—

  But Arivia’s foot suddenly braced against the earth, halting her movement.

  She caught the blade mid-hilt and edge, gripping it with her gauntlet-covered hand in a half-sword stance. With controlled force, she lunged.

  A precise thrust.

  Zhenbai’s eyes widened. She leaned back, just barely avoiding the tip of the blade.

  “A feint?! With a weapon that size?!”

  Regaining her balance, Arivia caught her bearings and raised her weapon once again.

  “Momentum works both ways.” She panted, returning her weapon to its previous position.

  The two reengaged, circling each other in the gloom. Neither blinked. Both watched, waiting for the smallest tell in the other's stance.

  Zhenbai’s posture had changed. The casual confidence was gone. In its place: caution.

  At first, she had believed Arivia to be reckless, swinging a heavy blade with brute force and little finesse.

  But now…

  Now she could see it clearly in her opponent’s eyes.

  This was someone who had mastered her weapon.

  Arivia watched her opponent just as closely. Zhenbai’s reflexes were unnatural. It was as though she anticipated the trajectory of every attack a moment before it landed.

  If it came to it…

  If it truly came to it…

  She would have to use her ability.

  She would have to use her ability.

  “Go ahead, my sweet Ari! There’s possibly no chance of you winning! So release that power!”

  The woman called out, her arms outstretched, stuck in a mocking pose.

  Arivia gritted her teeth.

  As much as she wanted to deny it, Zhenbai was right.

  There was no beating her. Not like this. Not in this terrain. It simply was impossible when every tree around them restricted her swings, when her opponent danced between trunks like they were her stage. Even the half-swording, as effective as it was in brief windows, had diminishing returns. Zhenbai would adapt. She was adapting.

  A sigh came from the other side of the clearing. Calm, almost amused.

  “I see,” Zhenbai said at last. Her voice had changed, still casual, but with a predatory lilt. “If you won’t take this seriously…”

  She reached up and tugged at the bandages covering her right eye.

  “I will.”

  The fabric fell. The moment it did, Arivia’s stomach dropped.

  A luminous, searing green glow bled out into the forest. Her opponent’s iris was no longer human. It was now elongated and sharp, a slitted reptilian eye burning with eerie brilliance. Snakelike. Serpentine.

  “DON'T MOVE.”

  Arivia’s instincts screamed at her to avert her gaze.

  But she couldn’t.

  That was the attack.

  Her body froze.

  The longsword slipped from her fingers and hit the grass with a soft thud. Her limbs locked. A crushing pressure clamped down on her chest, like invisible coils tightening. Every muscle in her body seized as if bound by iron wires.

  She couldn't even twitch her fingers.

  “What’s the matter, Ari?”

  Zhenbai strode forward leisurely, her twin scythes spinning idly in her hands with each step. The metallic hum of their movement filled the silence. Arivia could do nothing but watch as the sound drew closer. Closer. Closer.

  Sweat dripped from her brow.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Zhenbai knelt before her, the single eye still glowing. Her mouth curled in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She lifted Arivia’s chin with a single finger, her tone mocking, yet tender.

  “You’re really cute, y’know,” she whispered. “I’d hate to mess up a face like this.”

  The scythe in her left hand hovered an inch from Arivia’s neck. Any closer, and it would penetrate her skin.

  “But I’ve been paid a very generous sum.”

  Still no response.

  Was this some sort of Severant function that she had never heard of? No, she had not utilized her weapons.

  Then what exactly was it?

  Observing her movements and eye, Arivia’s mind scrambled for an answer.

  In her silence, realization bloomed.

  Gorgon.

  Zhenbai wasn’t human. She was a Gorgon, or Gorgari. One of the rarer Sapient races capable of turning the tide of battle with a single eye. They were primarily females, and their gaze alone could paralyze. When both eyes were exposed, it is said that they could petrify, even kill, with a mere look.

  The main factor that contributed to the fact that the Gorgari were rare was a simple, yet dark one. When decapitated, the head tended to crystallize into a rare material. Such materials were extremely formidable and almost indestructible, which contributed to their worth.

  This was why such a race almost always hid from common society, covering their defining features.

  It was quite the sad existence, but such was the way of the world.

  Zhenbai’s right eye pulsed again, the image within it twisting like coiling snakes eating each other in an infinite spiral. It drew Arivia’s vision like a whirlpool.

  She couldn’t see the scythe anymore. The same scythe that was raised above her head, ready to remove her head in one fell swoop.

  “I might hang your head up somewhere in my room,” Zhenbai mused. “Can’t let beauty like that go to waste!”

  The scythe glinted in the sunlight.

  BANG!

  A shot rang through the air. Birds exploded into the sky. Trees trembled.

  Zhenbai flinched towards the sound.

  Kors.

  Arivia’s mind registered it instantly. The sound of Kors’s Severant revolver: GLOOM.

  Zhenbai made a mistake.

  She looked away.

  In a blur of motion, Arivia’s body moved on reflex. Her arm dropped to her waist, and her fingers clutched the hilt of a hidden knife. With one underhanded thrust, she sliced across Zhenbai’s neck.

  The skin was instantly cut, like fabric with little to no resistance whatsoever. It was a clean job.

  Blood sprayed. A thin arc of red painted the air, spilling to the ground.

  A sharp kick followed afterwards. Arivia’s boot struck Zhenbai’s stomach with enough force to send her reeling, stumbling backward.

  While brutal, this was to create distance between her and the woman. Even when one had their throat cut open, they were still capable of attacking.

  Zhenbai staggered. Choking.

  Hands flew to her throat, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. Red gushed between her fingers. She was wobbling, limbs failing to coordinate. Her balance faltered.

  Arivia didn’t hesitate.

  She wiped the blade against the inside of her arm, slid it back into its sheath, and reached for her longsword.

  Her eyes never left the woman in front of her. Despite the frantic expression of her opponent, her expression was one of chilling calm.

  Zhenbai's eyes, once so smug, were wide now. Disbelieving.

  Still choking.

  Still choking.

  She staggered forwards, then backwards, an almost infinite supply of blood pouring down the orifices of her body.

  Still choking.

  Far too long.

  Arivia’s brows furrowed. Something was wrong.

  Why hasn’t she collapsed? That wound—

  Then, suddenly—

  “Aahaha… You got me,” Zhenbai coughed out, the blood-stained bandages covering her mouth curving upwards.. “I'll admit, I did not see that coming. Well, it was real stupid of me to turn around…”

  She stood up straight, spine cracking as she rolled her neck.

  Arivia took a step back.

  She’s not dead? No—her wound. It’s… healing?

  Arivia's eyes went into overtime, attempting to analyze what exactly was wrong with her opponent's body.

  “...”

  Her body was…

  Her body was unraveling.

  That was the only way to describe it. Like bandages peeling themselves off, her form came undone and rewove itself. The wound around her neck coiled shut, flesh weaving together like threads pulled tight.

  She was regenerating.

  Arivia's eyes widened in horror.

  Zhenbai’s arm snapped forward. The limb unraveled, stretching and twisting like a whip—

  It struck Arivia’s solar plexus with brutal force.

  “–GHK!”

  All the air in her lungs fled.

  Before she could recover, another strike caught her in the face, and she was thrown backward. The world spun as the sky and grass switched places.

  She hit the ground and rolled.

  What the hell was that?!

  She clawed at the dirt, disoriented. Her lungs burned. Her ribs throbbed. Blood smeared her lips. Her form was now shrouded in shadow, a large tree looming overhead.

  As for Zhenbai’s ability…

  No name had been called. It could not have been a Severant function.

  No incantation spoken. It could not have been a Sorcery spell.

  She braced herself, staggered to her feet, and looked up.

  Zhenbai’s body was reforming. The arm that had shot out now folded back into place, reshaping into flesh and muscle as if rewinding a spool of thread.

  The bending of the bandages around her mouth curved too far, as if her jaw were too large.

  “I really do feel bad for doing you like that,” she laughed. “But gods, that look on your face…” She moaned.

  She stepped forward again.

  Arivia calculated the distance between her and the bandaged woman. Six meters.

  Zhenbai kept talking.

  “I was really hoping you'd unleash some big flashy ability at this point. That’s how these fights usually go. But you haven’t.”

  Five meters.

  “So… I’m guessing you don’t have one. Maybe you’re just some normal girl caught up in all this.”

  Still five.

  Arivia’s hand twitched, her fingers edging closer to her mouth.

  Zhenbai waved a hand lazily.

  “Oh yeah. This? This isn’t a Severant. Or Sorcery.”

  She paused.

  “It’s a Vocation.”

  Four meters.

  Arivia stiffened.

  Vocation?

  Of course.

  It was one of the five major paths that could be found within the Pattern. A pact, not with a spirit, but a concept, a truth. An ‘Idea’. A vow that shaped one into something more, but only allowed itself to fully manifest if lived.

  You formed a contract and received power.

  But the stronger the concept, the rarer it was. And the more absolute your identity had to be to hold onto it.

  For example, an individual with a fiery temperament would be able to harness the abilities of a Heat Vocation. However, if said individual were to slowly calm down over time, so would the flames they controlled.

  Vocation users would be able to harness the abilities of other paths, yet only those who reached the pinnacle of their respective Vocation would be able to advance to the next stages in said other paths.

  It was like saying, ‘I have chosen only you as my main pursuit; all other forms of power are only secondary to me.’

  Zhenbai’s voice dropped into a murmur.

  “I’m bound to my shape. My fluidity. My ability to change form, mold to the moment. It’s who I am. And because of that, I have the Vocation of Unraveling.”

  Two meters.

  There existed Vocations that utilized mentalities or personalities as their main basis. Such vocations were much more common.

  But in this world, simply because one ability was more common than the other did not detract from its usefulness in battle. Just because one wielded the Vocation of Light did not mean they could not be beaten by one who utilized the Vocation of Sadness.

  The woman inched closer.

  Unravel.

  The gorgon who had escaped from the massacre of her people, assimilating into the society of her very enemies, embodied this concept.

  She stretched her arms again, skin shimmering, shifting.

  “I unravel. And so long as I believe in that truth, so long as I live it, I’ll never fall apart.”

  She smiled.

  “You, though? You look like you’re holding everything in.”

  Little did Zhenbai know, her time had already run out.

  The confident persona she held at this current moment would soon be snuffed out by the cold winds of reality.

  Arivia had bitten down on her finger minutes ago, drawing just enough blood for what came next.

  Her lips moved, steady and cold.

  “Noctyros-3: Seize.”

  A hand surged from the ground.

  Purple. Almost black. Its form was unnatural, a smear of shadow shaped like a claw. It wasn’t simply dark. It was void. No depth. No light. No texture. It felt wrong to look at, as if it shouldn’t exist in the real world. Like someone had taken a drawing and ripped it off the page into reality.

  The hand grabbed Zhenbai’s leg before she could react.

  “?!”

  Her head snapped down to it. A scythe appeared in her hand, slashing down in a blur. Sparks flew. She grunted with effort.

  But the hand did not budge.

  Arivia slowly rose to her feet, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her gauntlet. Her armor scratched faintly with every motion. She leveled her hand toward Zhenbai, fingers curled like a gun, palm stained red.

  “I’ve won.”

  Zhenbai’s singular eye widened. She finally realized what her opponent had been doing.

  “You..”

  “You were luring me in... this whole time...!”

  Noctyros-class spells only worked under specific conditions. Nightfall. Shadow. Darkness. They could not enter sunlight, because the contract between shadow and light was one of opposition.

  One cancels the other.

  That was why Arivia never chased Zhenbai after every exchange.

  That was why she backed off, again and again, until her opponent was standing directly in the shadow of the tree.

  While the other trees casted shadows of their own, they were not nearly powerful enough to support the weight of the spell. This specific tree alone was large enough to fulfill that requirement.

  Zhenbai continued to swing at the black hand, each one turning more and more desperate, yet it never worked.

  She struggled. Her body twisted, unraveling like cloth caught in the wind. Pieces of her came apart. Her form writhed violently, muscles tightening, blood pumping in wild surges.

  But it was pointless.

  The hand didn’t just grip her leg. It held her shadow. And in the realm of shadow, that was the same as holding her soul.

  Noctyros-3 was not a restraint. It was an executioner’s grip.

  Her scythe fell to the dirt behind her. Her hands clawed at her own leg, then the ground, then nothing. Her breathing grew ragged.

  Desperation twisted across her face.

  She looked up.

  Arivia was walking toward her, slow and precise.

  Their eyes met.

  Zhenbai froze.

  In Arivia’s gaze, she saw no emotion. No joy. No pity.

  Only the certainty of someone who had already decided to kill.

  The cold gaze of a killer.

  Zhenbai opened her mouth to speak.

  But nothing came out.

  “I don’t reveal my ability to fodder like you.”

  __________________________________________________________________________

  “You’re telling me you died… and went back in time?” Navi asks.

  Her expression is unreadable, somewhere between disbelief and disdain. Like she’s trying to figure out if I’ve gone completely insane, or if I’m just pathetic.

  If I look at her for another second, I think I really will lose it.

  The line between life and death… It’s not thin. It’s razor sharp. When something dies, it's not sleeping. It's not paused. It's gone. The soul, the spark, the presence, whatever you want to call it, vanishes. What's left is an object. A thing. A body, nothing more. A corpse doesn't smile. A corpse doesn't breathe. A corpse just stays there.

  It was supposed to be a one-way street.

  But I returned.

  And now I’m looking at the same people I killed, sitting in front of me. Breathing. Moving. Talking.

  I want to throw up. But there's nothing left inside.

  What scares me more is how easy it was. How I gave it no thought, just mulling along as if it were normal. This is what terrifies me the most.

  I saw them as a medicinal relief to alleviate the pain I was going through.

  My thoughts were nothing but static. Like my mind was underwater, bubbling with desperation. My body moved before I could stop it. My instincts screamed. My nerves lit up like fire. Everything else shut down.

  And for a while, it was better like that.

  Now? Now I have to live with it.

  I’d rather be back in that state. At least then, I wouldn’t be able to process what I did.

  Death... death isn’t just the moment it happens. It’s the feeling after.

  And it’s worse. It’s so much worse. Simply putting it into words would do it injustice.

  I didn't think it would hit this hard. I didn’t think this world would... fight back. That it would feel like punishment.

  My hands are quivering.

  But I should’ve known better.

  The journey wouldn’t be handed to me. That was naive. This isn’t a dream. There are rules. Costs.

  Still... I have something. A unique power that I can weld.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I’ve seen this kind of story before. But this time, I’ll do it right. I’ll use this power fully. I’ll control the narrative. I won’t break

  Because I’m built differently.

  I’m special.

  I’m—

  Why are my hands still shaking?

  Kyros is silent. I can’t read his face, but something about his posture tells me he’s uncertain. Cautious. Maybe scared. Maybe not of me… but for me.

  I’m leaning against the old tree. Wind brushes the grass, cool air finally calming the heat burning in my chest.

  I wipe my mouth. Breathe in. Out.

  Finally, my eyelids resume their natural positions, the adrenaline dripping out of my nerves.

  “Yes, it sounds insane. But I can prove it this time.”

  Navi doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes drift elsewhere.

  “...Is this like the last time you said that?” she says finally. Her voice is softer now. Almost quiet.

  “No, no, I’m not lying—”

  A sharp pain strikes my gut. I grip my stomach, groaning. It’s that feeling. Not as bad, but it’s still—

  BZZT

  “Khhaa….”

  Kyros turns toward the fire.

  He’s looking at the half-eaten purple fish, still cooking next to the fire.

  His body jolts.

  “Kaito. Did you eat that fish?” he snaps.

  “H-Huh? Y-Yeah…?”

  He’s already moving.

  Suddenly his hand is in my mouth, pushing so far down I can’t even gag in time. My eyes shoot wide.

  “?!”

  There’s a pull in my gut, like something is being dragged out of me by force. My back arches, and a scream rips from my throat as Kyros yanks his arm back.

  The scream itself does not come from me, but rather from within me.

  I collapse, hacking up yellow bile onto the grass.

  He drops something beside me with a loud thud.

  I look and my stomach sinks.

  It’s... a worm.

  A massive, two-meter-long parasite, writhing, snapping at the air. Its body is pure black, lined with twitching legs and a gnashing, tendril-shaped maw. A real-life nightmare, flailing and soaked in the fluids of my insides.

  “What the hell is that?!”

  Before it can slither away, a blur flashes through the air. Navi’s sabre strikes clean through it, cleaving the creature in half. A spray of green fluid sizzles against the earth.

  Navi doesn’t lower her arm.

  “A Lurker,” she says.

  I scramble backwards, nearly tripping on my own legs.

  “The fuck?!”

  “These parasites nest in hosts, usually fish from umbral valleys.” Navi begins, walking over to reclaim her sabre. “Once ingested, they begin feeding from the inside. Slowly. Organ by organ.” Her voice is cold as she picks up her sabre, assessing the damage done by throwing it.

  Kyros crouches beside the bisected body, grabbing one of the twitching legs.

  “They begin small inside their first host,” he explains, shaking the creature.. “From there, the parasite will make the host more enticing to predators by causing it to seem more fattening. It will then begin a process where the taste of the creature will be changed to an extremely pleasant one. Once they are within the second host, or the predator that had eaten the first, they begin to grow. They will consume the second host from the inside out, a slow but gradual process. When complete, it will inject a potent venom that alters the brain, to release itself and escape into the world as an adult. Once an adult, it will cause unimaginable havoc.”

  I stare at the split creature, my breath caught in my throat. Blood pools around its body slowly, a testament to the amount of time I spend staring at it.

  Something like that had been inside me.

  My stomach still throbs. My hands are stained. My mouth tastes like metal and bile.

  I just sit there. Staring at it.

  Quietly.

  Because there’s nothing else to say.

  _________________________________________________________________________

  The rest of the night passes in silence. It’s probably because everyone now understands the source of my “insanity” was that parasite. Kyros checked me for other ailments, but once he found nothing, he let me go.

  Still, I know those deaths weren’t hallucinations.

  Navi doesn’t question me further. She must have come to the same conclusion as Kyros: that I simply imagined it all.

  I asked Kyros if I’d be okay, considering there had been a two-meter long parasite living in my stomach. He said I would. ‘Just avoid eating anything with inconsistent skin, ’ he told me.

  I’m still in shock.

  I don’t even know how I’ve come to terms with everything that just happened.

  At some point during the night, I wandered toward the skull near the campfire. Well, not “some point”—just once. Right now.

  The darkness unsettles me, but the pale moonlight offers a small comfort.

  The grass sways gently. A silent, natural rhythm.

  I look down at the skull insignia. The soft glow emanating from it lights up my body ever so slightly.

  It’s staring at me.

  Just seeing it, knowing it caused me to die twice, fills me with a hot rage that pushes my nerves to the surface of my forehead.

  I clench my fists.

  Then I kick it. Dirt scatters over its form.

  But to my surprise, it doesn’t budge. It's for stays the same z with no noticeable changes present.

  Crouching down, I wave my hand around it.

  It’s like a hologram. A flickering distortion of light. A glowing, runic circle drawn in white. Untouchable. Unreal.

  I can’t just ignore this anymore.

  Every time I died, I came back to one of these.

  Placing my hand on my chin, I utilize the organ known as my brain.

  They must be checkpoints.

  It makes sense, given the circumstances. As much as I hate to say this in real life, it really is like a video game. I die, and I return here. These runes mark the start of each “run.”

  But can I create these at will? Or am I just forced to make them randomly?

  I touch the area around the circle.

  Nothing. Just the rubbery texture of grass under my palm.

  There has to be a way.

  I sit in the exact position I was in when I first awakened here. Leaning back, hand to the dirt. Perhaps I can replicate the exact same circumstances earlier that led me to summon this thing.

  A few seconds pass.

  Still nothing.

  I sigh and let myself drop fully to the ground.

  Despite everything: the two deaths, the pain, I can feel the wind. I can see the stars. I’m alive. That alone should feel like a miracle.

  And yet, I don’t know how to explain this to anyone. I doubt anyone’s ever gone through something like this.

  Maybe the best way to describe it is like a dream. You know how, in dreams, everything feels real until you wake up? No matter how chaotic or nonsensical they may seem, at that moment it feels like reality. The moment you awaken however, the world grounds you again. It separates itself from the illusion.

  That’s how those “runs” felt. Well, if you have that ‘grounded’ feeling as a running constant. And the pain never wakes you up.

  But then, am I the one resetting? Or is the whole world looping with me?

  I call them “runs” instead of loops because I don’t really know what they are. Even I haven’t settled on the right term.

  A breeze brushes across my face. It’s gentle yet resurfaces memories I do not want.

  I flinch.

  I get up quickly, heart racing.

  I need sleep.

  Right now, in this world, there is only ‘Kaito’, A single name, a single presence. It is a lonely existence. But I’ve always lived alone, so in a way… it’s like I’ve returned home.

  And yet, this quiet gnaws at me.

  I place a hand on the ground, pushing myself up.

  I make my way to the tree again.

  Tomorrow is a new day.

  The past will remain behind me.

  But I need to correct the new perceptions of me from my peers.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  The morning glow claws at my eyelids, prying them open one slow peel at a time. Each blink makes the light stronger, stabbing straight through the fog in my brain.

  My face finally twitches awake. It’s quite stiff and rigid, given that I had been sleep for quite a long while.

  Click. Click.

  A pair of gauntleted hands snaps right in front of my eyes. The sharp sound jabs into my head like nails on glass.

  Who dares awake me from my slumber?

  Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll just sleep for a couple of minutes, a couple of snaps is fine. The sound's bearable.

  My eyes slowly drift shut, ignoring the cacophony of sounds in front of me. I pride myself on being quite the heavy sleeper actually.

  “Ugh—!”

  Then comes the splash.

  Ice-cold water slaps my face like a slap from God. I flinch back, gasping, blinking wildly as water trickles down my shirt. I instantly shoot awake, my body tingling from the sharp cold entering my skin.

  Again?! I’m soaking again?!

  “Oi! Sleeping beauty! Rise and shine!”

  I spit water. “—How the hell do you even know what Sleeping Beauty is?!”

  My hands rush up to rub my face, dragging my wet shirt collar across it like a towel.

  Navi stands in front of me, hands on her hips, brows pulled down into what I think is a permanent scowl. Or maybe that’s just her default setting. She stands above me, and I can barely see her face behind her chest armor.

  She’s purposely angling her face upwards to give her a sense of superiority, or something, I don’t know.

  At this point, I’m just grateful she didn’t send two million volts of electricity up my ass to wake me up.

  Either way, being woken up by a face like this, and water to go along with it, is something I wouldn’t even wish upon my worst enemy.

  “You could’ve tapped me...” I groan, my voice barely more than a gravel-filled whisper. I rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, trying to get a grip on where I am. Sleep still clings on to various recesses of my body, stubbornly refusing to let go.

  I open my eyes wide, attempting to shake it off.

  Man, I really miss lying in bed for 20 minutes scrolling through my phone like a zombie. Now I wake up to this.

  Before I can reattach my soul to my body, Navi spins on her heel, her sabre swaying at her hip.

  Grumbling, I push myself upright, bones cracking as I stretch. My spine feels like a bent coat hanger. Most probably, given the fact that I slept against a tree for who knows how long.

  “Good morning, Kaito,” Kyros says, approaching us. The goblin somehow still looks composed, despite everything. I’ve stopped trying to read his expressions.

  Hard to do that when he doesn’t even have eyes.

  I snicker at the thought of a crude drawing of a face drawn on his head.

  “Kyros, where are we heading?” Navi asks, already facing the massive forest ahead. The trees sway gently in the breeze, and right in front of that platform…

  Oh god.

  There’s a bridge.

  A rickety, moldy-looking thing strung together with rotting rope and spit. I never actually looked at it until now.

  It looks like the kind of bridge you use once in an RPG, during a cutscene, right before it collapses dramatically.

  “Beyond the bridge. There is a path that leads to a small cave, which serves as the entrance to the seventh layer.”

  “Seventh layer? Damn, we’re already on the sixth?”

  I recall being on the third layer not even a day ago. We must have been really hauling ass to cover so much distance in such a short time.

  “Are you aware of your surroundings?” Navi asks, turning her head towards me, another irritated look on her face. Alright, I’m convinced that this is her default facial expression.

  I groan at that comment.

  Walking over to the edge of the platform, I glance at the bridge to get a better look. Double-checking never hurt anyone.

  “You sure that thing’s stable?” I ask, trying not to look down into the abyss below.

  Too late. My skin crawls, and I snap my eyes back up.

  Navi grabs the rope and tugs at it. The bridge groans in response, creaking like it just woke up from a thousand-year nap.

  “Looks structurally sound,” she says.

  “You barely moved it! I’m never hiring you for house repairs!”

  “Sheesh, quit whining.” She waves me off and steps onto the bridge without a care. “I don’t get how you talk so much without noticing how stupid you sound.”

  The plank under her shrieks in protest. I clench my jaw but stay silent.

  If I make a joke about her weight, I’m pretty sure I’ll be impaled with that sabre.

  The air is quiet, save for the occasional creaking that emanates from this hellish bridge. My eyes nervously follow Navi’s form, which is leisurely crossing the bridge as if walking down the street.

  She’s across in twenty seconds, already leaning against the support post like she’s waiting for a bus. A sly smirk crosses her sharp features, mocking me.

  She then jerks her head towards her general direction, as if to say ‘Hurry up’.

  Alright, alright. We get it, you crossed it without any difficulty, no need to rub it in.

  Kyros follows, his small stature barely even registering on the bridge weight-wise.

  “Kaito, do not overthink it. This bridge has stood for years without a single issue.”

  Which is exactly why I’m freaking out.

  “That means it’s due for a collapse!”

  They’re both on the other side now, waiting for me.

  “If you keep crying, we’re leaving you there! You’ve got twenty seconds!” Navi shouts, hands cupped around her mouth.

  “I’m not scared!”

  “Then hurry up!”

  My eyes scan the planks. Pattern recognition kicks in. Every third plank looks rotted, not strong enough to support my weight. If I skip those, I’ll be fine. Probably. I just need to follow this set pattern in my head. If I do, I’ll be free.

  I swallow a lump of dread.

  Gripping the ropes tight, I take a breath.

  Left foot.

  Right foot.

  Left.

  Right.

  CREAAAKKK.

  My knuckles turn white. I’m gripping the rope like it’s the only thing left in the world. I’m not scared. Not scared. Totally fine. I take a shaky breath.

  The abyss yawns beneath me, eager to absorb me.

  I ruffle my hair in frustration. “Shit…!!”

  I can’t let this perception of me carry on any further. I’m not some pushover. I’m not weak.

  No more thinking. I bolt forward.

  One plank snaps and plummets the moment I lift off it. My heart jumps into my throat, but I just keep running. My feet carry me in long strides, just as desperate as I am to cross this hellish bridge.

  Finally, I dive forward onto the other side, crashing face-first into grass.

  The ground feels like a blessing. If no one was around, I’d probably end up kissing it.

  I love you, stable ground, I’ll never take you for granted ever again.

  Panting, I glance back.

  Only one plank fell.

  And honestly? The gap isn’t even wide enough for a full-grown human to slip through.

  Wow. That was... anticlimactic.

  I groan and rise to a knee, brushing dirt off my hands. The sounds of various creatures, and what sounds like mostly birds, ring out from all sides.

  A torrent of green greets my eyes, a testament to the life within this forest.

  Looking up, I spot Navi and Kyros already deep in the woods, half-concealed by the foliage.

  “Wait up!” I yell, sucking in air as I start running.

  Dammit, Snow Bitch! You’re corrupting Kyros! Why’s he walking with you?!

  ____________________________________________________________________________

  The walk along is quite the journey, but more peaceful than the other layers. This forest isn’t as cluttered as the ones we passed. The path is more laid out than the rest. When we entered, we were met with these weird little berries.

  Despite how small they were, they actually filled you up a good bit. I only had about four, which was surprising. That was our breakfast.

  Just another day in this valley.

  The canopy above accentuates the path in front of us, like some kind of divine guide.

  But despite the serene and peaceful landscape, something gnaws at me. Yes, a realization that any sensible person would come to.

  This entire journey feels kind of short. I honestly expected it to be longer.

  “Kyros,” I say, hoping for some answers from my tiny guide.

  “?”

  “Are Umbral Valleys always this short? What’s up with that? It’s only been about two days, and we’ve already reached the eighth layer.”

  I step over a large rock, careful not to trip. I did say previously that the path wasn’t as cluttered, but the further deep we go, the more entropy arises.

  The goblin goes silent for a moment before speaking again. Whenever he does that, I like to assume he’s going through the vast sea of knowledge in his head, picking out the right piece of information that the situation asks for.

  “The structure of each Umbral Valley differs. But the one thing they all share is that the first ten layers are closer to each other than the rest. The distance increases greatly after that. And so does the danger.”

  “How greatly are we talking?” I ask, voice half-uncertain. I’m not exactly sure what greatly means to him, no offense. He’s got quite the small stature, and the past few layers have been taking shorter periods than expected, so…

  “Hm... I’d say about... if you were to take sleep into account—three months in between each one.”

  I feel my jaw lower a bit at the revelation. Rightly shocked. To travel across a top layer typically takes about twelve hours. So that kind of jump? You can feel it in your gut.

  The sun spills through the canopy, and I squint against the light. Small dust particles drift freely in the light.

  “...”

  I stay quiet, unsure of what to say next.

  “Is there anything we need to be aware of when we enter your village?” Navi asks from ahead. Her voice is careful. Probably thinking there might be a defense force waiting for us.

  “They are not aware of my reentry,” Kyros says. His head is angled low.

  “I have been banished from the city, and they would not expect someone of… My stature to return back.”

  He goes quiet for a beat. Like he’s choosing his next words carefully.

  “...Again, I must thank you for risking your lives to help my home from that dreadful creature.”

  “Nah, if anything, it’s two birds with one stone.” I wave my hand. “There’s human captives down there.”

  “Of course. That doesn’t take away from the fact that we’d still help you regardless,” Navi adds. She says it like she’s trying to protect our validity. As if to detract from the fact that we wouldn’t help if there were no humans down there.

  She’s a mercenary, so it’s understandable if she doesn’t look to go above her paygrade.

  But I would.

  Most people wouldn’t risk their lives eight layers deep into some dark, cursed valley. And that’s fair. That’s understandable.

  I’m not doing this for any noble reason, not really. But maybe it’s admirable in its own way. I just want to go on a typical fantasy adventure. Is that too much to ask?

  I’ve been chained to some random mansion in the middle of nowhere ever since I got dragged into this world. So is it really that bad to want to explore a little? Even if it’s dangerous, at least there’s something to look forward to. Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe I’m doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. But it still helps people.

  That has to count for something.

  My legs carry me forward, slow and steady. The ground crunches underneath my feet. The world around me feels alive.

  I’m a good person. That’s all that matters. I’m still doing good things. There’s nothing that separates me from a good samaritan.

  My eyes drift to the large sabre swinging at Navi’s waist. The scabbard is a deep black, and the blade itself has yellow accents that are both riich and sharp.

  It’s a medium-sized weapon, and from the looks of it, probably great in mid-range fights.

  Come to think of it, I’ve seen it a few times now, but I never really paid attention to the full design. Just the color. Just the shape.

  Was that weapon a Severant? I’d be inclined to say yes, but then again, I’ve never seen her do anything crazy with it

  “Yo,” I say, loud enough for her to hear.

  “Mmm?” she mutters, eyes ahead, pace unchanged. It’s as if she’s mastered the art of not giving a crap. Shoulders up, swaying side to side. She’s trying way too hard.

  Just… above it all.

  I sigh internally. Mentally, of course.

  “That sabre on your hip,” I say, voice flat. “Is it a Severant?”

  “Yeah,” she replies instantly, steering the conversation off a cliff.

  And that’s it.

  Conversation: murdered.

  My eyebrow slightly twitches at such a sudden death. I’m trying to have a conversation here, not a questionnaire.

  I wait, but she doesn’t follow up. No clarification. No teasing remark. Not even a condescending smirk. She just keeps walking.

  Sometimes I forget who I’m talking to.

  Kyros leers behind him, seemingly taken with the scenery. Any functioning human being would come to the conclusion that he’s trying to stay out of the conversation.

  And honestly, I applaud him for that.

  Silence takes over again. Our footsteps play percussion against the dirt path. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  One-two-one-two.

  Like a metronome for an awkward moment that refuses to die.

  “…What’s the ability?”

  I try again, poking the sleeping beast. Sometimes I really admire my bravery.

  “Function,”

  Great. We’re playing that game now.

  “Fine,” I say, dragging the word out, “What’s the function, Ms. Highergald?”

  There’s a pause this time, which I take as a minor victory. She’s thinking. That means she’s engaged. Kind of.

  Then: “Do I really want to waste four minutes of my life explaining this to you?” she says, monotone. “I could be spending it on something more productive, y’know.”

  “With what, walking?!” I fire.

  “Not talking to you,” she fires back. “That’s productive. It’s really good.”

  Both of us “rush over to cover”.

  She “reloads”.

  “You should try not talking either. We can both reach peak productivity together.” She fires.

  Finally done reloading, I take aim.

  “You want us to be silent monks. Or just regular people who hate each other.”

  Shit, I missed!

  “You say that, but I don’t hate you.” She pauses, aiming for my critical zone.

  “I just dislike… the sound of your voice. And your face. And your everything.”

  “GHK!” I stagger backwards. “A verbal stab! It hurts more than an actual one!”

  “That can be arranged.”

  I step away just slightly. Enough to create plausible deniability if she actually tries it.

  “So that’s a yes?” I ask. “It’s a Severant?”

  “You already asked that.”

  “You already answered.”

  “Then why are you still asking?”

  “I’m looping for emphasis.”

  “You’re looping for attention. Go look at a bird or something.”

  She’s good. I can’t even argue.

  “You're really not gonna tell me what it does?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Because it's dangerous?”

  “No.”

  “Because it's a secret?”

  “No.”

  “Because it's embarrassing?”

  “...No.”

  That hesitation. I grab it like an industrial vise machine.

  “Oh my god,” I gasp, eyes wide. “It is embarrassing!”

  “It’s not.”

  “Tell me it doesn’t make flower petals shoot out of the blade or something.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Does it sing when you swing it?”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “…Does it cry when you sheath it?”

  She exhales.

  “Your mouth starts running and never stops, huh?”

  “I pride myself on that fact.”

  “You should kill yourself because of it.”

  “Yeowch.”

  Slow, exhausted, the kind of sigh that communicates entire novels' worth of disdain. Navi stops walking.

  “It slices. It carves. It cuts things. That’s all it does. Nothing flashy. Nothing poetic. Just efficient violence.” She turns to face me, eyes slightly narrowed.

  “Is that enough detail for you, or should I draw a diagram in blood?”

  “Okay, okay,” I raise my hands. “So it’s a ‘shut up’ blade. Got it.”

  No, I don’t ‘Got it’. She’s definitely hiding something. She’s clearly attempting to give a basic description so I stop bothering her.

  She keeps walking.

  “But just so you know,” I add, “if it does ever sprout wings and start reciting haikus, I’m gonna be laughing my ass off.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you’re dead before that happens.”

  There’s a beat.

  “...Poison blade?”

  “No.”

  “Shadow slash?”

  “No.”

  “Reality ripper?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, now I’m just guessing.”

  “I figured that out when you said ‘Reality Ripper.’”

  “It sounds cool though, right?”

  “No.”

  It’s at this point that I realize the conversation’s over—and I didn’t get a single new piece of information out of her.

  “Dammit,” I mutter, clenching my hand.

  “Are you narrating out loud?”

  “Despite all that effort, I’ve still managed to learn next to nothing about Ms. Highergald’s Severant.”

  “Referring to me with honorifics isn’t going to help your case. Though, you should refer to me with them all the time.”

  Grunting a little at that last remark, I continue, “...Man, it’s probably so cool and awesome and strong.”

  “Alright, have fun speaking to yourself, Kaito the Slave.”

  She picks up her pace, boots pressing harder into the trail, leaving me behind in the dust.

  I groan.

  Once again, our little Trail of Tears begins.

  My feet drag like machine parts, legs stiff and automatic. It sucks to be back to how I was earlier, but alas, all good things must come to an end.

  Something catches my attention.

  It flickers off and on, all the way to my right. My head swivels on instinct.

  Deep within the forest, across the expanse of trees…there it is.

  A faint blue light. Flickering. Almost like a beacon.

  I stop walking.

  It’s bright enough to affect the sunlight pouring in from the canopy. It moves, swaying, rising. Like a second sun. I can't see the source, just the shimmer, blocked by the treeline.

  It seems Kyros has taken note of it as well, opting to stop in his tracks and gaze at the light.

  “What’s that?” I ask the goblin.

  “I am just as confused as you…” He says, his voice no louder than a hum.

  Navi stops, turning around. Her gaze follows the direction I’m pointing.

  The blue glow starts moving. Closer. Larger.

  She squints, her expression stiffening. A few seconds pass.

  Then her eyes widen.

  That reaction alone tells me everything I need to know.

  This thing is not okay.

  Kyros and I are still frozen, watching. Confused.

  “...Run!” she shouts, hand reaching for her sabre.

  The earth shakes.

  Heavy, crashing steps hammer from the forest ahead. Something massive is pushing through the underbrush. The heavy sounds of footsteps betray the speed at which it’s currently moving.

  The bushes split open. Trees quake.

  Then, the sound.

  Not just footsteps, but something else. A warbling, mechanical siren. Loud enough to shatter nerves.

  It erupts in waves across the forest, buzzing, screaming, vibrating the ground beneath my feet.

  I bolt in the opposite direction, turning my head forwards.

  Kyros is already ahead of me.

  “[IMPURITY— DETECTED: CLEANSING OPERATION INITIATED ERR—ERR–]”

  The voice tears across the trees. It’s metallic, static-filled, broken and cold. Followed by sharp beeps and clinks, no rhythm, no pause.

  Curiosity gets the better of me, causing me to swivel my head backwards.

  Then I see it.

  A machine.

  One singular, massive eye at the center of a mouth-like structure. The sides split open, jagged like blades. Its tendrils are long and sleek, each one waving unnaturally through the air, each lined with narrow slits. Its legs spin and twist, grinding into the dirt as it walks.

  Pure terror punches through me.

  It’s the kind of fear that crawls under your skin like a spider sprinting across your body, tapping every inch.

  The thing moves fast. Way too fast for its size. The only reason it hasn’t caught us yet is because it’s too big for the narrow trail. Not that it cares. It plows through the trees without slowing down.

  Wood splits. Trees crash. Thud after thud grows louder. My legs kick into overdrive, adrenaline flooding every nerve. I need to go faster, faster!

  Then, through the chaos….I hear something else.

  A beep.

  The sound itself is so distinct that it manages to capture my attention despite the sounds surrounding it.

  Then another.

  Then another.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The pace quickens. The tone sharpens.

  A realization quickly dawns upon as the pace of the beeps only increases violently.

  Something’s charging up.

  Heat builds at my back. I can feel it pressing in.

  Right as the final beep hits, I dive, ducking low, arms over my head. It was a split-second decision I took in a desperate measure to ensure my life was not ended.

  A red beam blasts overhead, zooming past my field of view.

  It doesn’t just hit a tree. It erases it. The entire thing vanishes in a silent blast, gone, along with everything around it. What follows is a heavy explosion and a cloud of shrapnel and fire.

  I stagger to the side, opposite of where it hit. Such destructive capabilities are truely nothing short of utter insanity.

  It’s trying to kill us.

  It’s shooting at us.

  My brain races.

  Why is there a machine here?! Why does it look like this? This isn’t some crude magical imitation, it’s an actual robot. Real tech. That can’t be coincidence.

  I thought this world wasn’t-

  Another beep.

  Then another. And more. They multiply.

  Beep.

  Beep. Beep.

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep—

  FWOOSH.

  Another beam fires.

  I barely react in time before I’m launched forward, the ground ripping out beneath me.

  My arms flail. Sky and dirt flip places. I’m airborne. My clothes ripple from the sheer amount of wind crashing against my form.

  My eyes settle on the cold, hard ground, ready to catch me. I quickly throw my arms in front of me, bracing for impact.

  I hit the ground hard but roll with it, curling my body, chin tucked to avoid a neck snap.

  The sole reason I haven’t broken anything was because of a simple fact.

  The direction was angled forward, not directly up. The momentum saves me from breaking anything too vital.

  I land ahead of Kyros and Navi.

  They catch up in a blur, Kyros sprinting, Navi with her hand on her scabbard.

  No words are exchanged. We don’t have time.

  I glance back.

  The machine isn’t slowing.

  Its limbs move like liquid. There’s no stuttering, no delay. It moves smoother than most living things, its sleek tendrils flinging it forward like a monstrous spider. Typically, a machine would have some kind of halted movement when moving from point A to point B; it’s only natural, given the nature of the machine, a ‘lifeform’ created by other lifeforms.

  “Ahead, Kaito! There’s a cave that leads into the next layer!” Kyros yells.

  I snap my eyes forward.

  There it is.

  A dark opening carved into the base of a hill. A respite from this utter chaos. The cave is a few meters away, but if I keep this pace, I’ll make it. Hopefully, the others will too.

  Just a few more steps.

  My heart races. Panic starts to fade—

  Until I glance up.

  A blue laser is trained right on the mouth of the cave. The beeping is rising again. Louder. Faster.

  It’s going to shoot the entrance.

  It’s trying to trap us.

  I grit my teeth, forcing my legs to go faster. The light pulses brighter. My eyes clench from the speed of the wind clawing into the crevices of my eyeballs.

  My legs explode with adrenaline. But unfortunately, it’s too slow.

  Desperation claws its way through my chest.

  There has to be something, some way, any way—before the shot lands—

  A spell. That’ll be the only way we can get out of this situation. My mind snaps back to when Navi used a wind spell to cut down a tree. Aero-something. That’s what she called it.

  I’ve finally reached the cave entrance, my feet skidding, forcing my body to a halt. I whip around, my whole frame angled back toward the chaos.

  I glance over my shoulder. She has enough distance between her and the machine. Enough to cast it.

  “NAVI!!! CUT DOWN THOSE TREES WITH YOUR WIND SPELL!!”

  I scream it, panting, saliva launching from my mouth with the force of each breath.

  I’m not going to tell her to use it on the robot. If she hasn’t tried, there must be a reason. Either she knows it won’t work, or she doesn’t want to find out.

  She doesn’t hesitate. Spinning on her heel, Navi cracks her index finger with her thumb. A single, confident motion. It’s akin to a gunslinger cocking the back of their weapons hammer.

  “Aeronis-2, Slice!!”

  The incantation comes out like a blade. A white arc instantly forms where her finger points, the air converging at a single, precise point. Pressure builds, slowly charging up.

  Then it fires.

  A split-second blur. A gleam through the air. It tears toward the trees in a flash too fast for the eye to follow.

  This is a gamble. Everything hinges on it. The trees need to fall in a specific angle to block or redirect the robot’s aim. Ideally, collapse on it entirely.

  Navi knows. She aims not at the trunks, but toward the upper-right, adjusting her angle to guide their fall.

  If she misses, even by a bit… it’s all over.

  A single bead of sweat runs down my hand.

  Kyros finally catches up. He skids next to me, eyes locked on the unfolding moment.

  It happens in mere seconds, yet it stretches, drawn out by the tension. Each tick of time heavier than the last. The robot barrels forward, it’s directive dead set on killing us.

  Then—

  A deep, splintering groan erupts from the forest. Five trees tremble and begin to tip.

  They’re right in front of the machine. However, the machine’s less than a few feet from passing them.

  “C’mon… c’mon…” I mutter, my fingers twitching like they’re trying to roll invisible dice.

  It’s all timing. A million-to-one shot.

  Or a gamble.

  Then—

  CRASH.

  The trees fall. Hard. Five giants collapsing all at once. A thunderous, jarring quake ripples through the air. A cloud of dust and broken branches erupts from the impact site. A plume of smoke shrouds the clearing.

  A single beam cuts through it. One last desperate blast. It tears through a nearby tree, exploding it into shards.

  My legs feel like they’re dissolving into the ground. The fatigue I’ve been pushing down finally rises to my brain.

  I’m completely exhausted.

  But I shake my head. I can’t rest. Not yet. I’m still on my feet. That’s all that matters.

  “Alright, let’s go, I’m not wasting any time here!”

  Kyros nods beside me.

  I start to turn—then stop.

  Something’s wrong.

  Something extremely important is missing.

  I look back. Navi is limping. Far from the cave. Too far.

  My eyes snap down to her foot. I see it.

  Blood.

  A thick red trail streaking from her leg to the ground, glinting wetly in the light.

  And then I spot it.

  A jagged splinter of wood, wedged between her leg guard and her foot. It’s impaled her completely. Deep. An unlucky hit in every sense of the word.

  Behind her, the sound of gears turning starts up again.

  Grinding. Whirring.

  Then an alarm blares.

  “[DAMAGE TO HULL TAKEN. INTEGRITY: 98%. RESUMING OPERATION.]”

  I grit my teeth.

  “C’mon, Navi. Hurry up.”

  But she’s trying. Limping forward, dragging herself, her steps pathetic. The wound is too much. She won’t make it.

  I glance back toward the cave.

  We could run. Escape right now. Me and Kyros. We’d make it.

  Am I really about to risk my life for the person who marked me with a slave collar?

  My hand brushes the metal ring at my neck. The one that keeps me tethered. Controlled.

  Do I owe anything to her? Someone who clipped my freedom before I even had a chance?

  Cute or not. Kind or not. She still did wrong to me.

  She collapses.

  Her face says it all. Silent pain.

  She shivers on the ground, reaching her arm forward as if that pitiful attempt at crawling is going to save her from her doom.

  Damn it.

  “Kyros, stay here,” I bark.

  He hesitates. “Please hurry, Kaito. The creature seems to be getting up.”

  I nod once. Then brace myself.

  I just need a sudden burst of energy. Please body. Pump blood like never ever before. I need to soar past this obstacle. I’m going to save someone. Don’t fail me.

  My head hurts, and my legs are shaking from fatigue. My arms cramp from the impact I took earlier.

  I breathe in deep. I can deal with the pain. It’s not going to go away, but if I inhale and exhale, it becomes barely tolerable.

  And barely is all I can get right now.

  I move.

  My back leg launches me forward like a bullet. My body surges. Arms pumping. Nerves firing. I run like everything depends on it.

  Because it does.

  The machine rises behind the smoke. It’s not down. It seems almost twice as angry now, it’s limbs flailing around like serpents desperate to murder me.

  It sees me.

  The single eye locks onto me, probably designating me as a priority target. Then, it begins it’s run.

  Navi is about eight meters from it. Four meters from me.

  The robot’s probably refraining from attacking Navi simply because it acknowledges that, at this point, she poses no threat whatsoever.

  At my best speed, I cover one meter in just under three-tenths of a second. That’s 1.12 seconds to reach her.

  But it’s faster than me.

  It can do twice the distance in the same time.

  I’m racing a machine.

  Again.

  Well, I’m too far gone to stop at this point. I can only carry on from here.

  My legs pound the earth. My lungs beg for air. The world becomes white noise. My form is breaking, my hands are desperately swinging back and forth.

  Just a few more seconds!

  The machine inches closer, only two meters away from her at this point. It’s alarms blare, as if warning me of her impending doom.

  I grit my teeth, using every bit of me to force my legs to push further.

  Finally, she’s close.

  I reach her, despite the odds, I reach her.

  It’s not over yet, however. There’s still an obstacle to be overcome.

  I now have to race back.

  The girl is collapsed, weak, and shaky gasps are erupting from her mouth. Blood pools around her leg, the red shine burning brighter than the sun.

  "Ka…"

  That’s all she manages to say.

  I scoop her up. My left arm under her knees, right arm at her back.

  She’s not heavy.

  Not enough to stop me.

  Once again, I start my run. Now or never. If I falter for even a second, we’re both dead.

  In this world of magic and wonder, I’m still reduced to a panting mess, using my sheer strength and vitality in the end.

  I guess I’m reverting back to my most basic instincts, as all humans eventually do when confronted with dire situations.

  No matter what technology we attain, or magic in this case, we still revert to these basic senses. In a way, it's kind of eye-opening, seeing that the elders of our age were right.

  When the phone stops working, how will we contact each other? When the gun gets jammed, how do we fight? Or, in this case, what do we do when magic isn’t a solution? It’s all a question that can be answered by a simple thing.

  To revert back into those stupid creatures swinging clubs.

  Its a crude but simple solution. Look at me, I’m carrying a girl who could probably cut me into thousands of pieces with magic, running away from a giant robot.

  It’s almost poetic in a way. The guy with no abilities whatsoever is the median between two worlds of fantasy.

  My breath is ragged. My clothes stick to me like glue. Sweat clings to my skin like oil. The world spins.

  But I don’t stop.

  My mind boils everything down into one line.

  Carry Navi to safety.

  Get to the cave.

  Carry Navi.

  Run.

  Run.

  Blood coats my arms now. From her leg. It slides down to my pants, hot and sticky.

  For a moment, my eyes travel downcast.

  The girl’s facial expression is that of someone who was fading away. Her eyes slowly close as she grips my shirt. Tiny gasps come from her mouth.

  Shit. I think it hit an artery.

  Utilizing my shaking hand, I attempt to stabilize the piece of wood so no further damage is done.

  The alarm behind me blares again. Louder. Sharper. Mechanical.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Target locked.

  Aiming.

  Kyros stands at the mouth of the cave. Waiting. He’s probably praying that we make it safe.

  You won’t have to wait much longer.

  I see the entrance. Just a little farther.

  But once again, reality does not follow my wishes. A final beep rings out. The piercing scream of the laser cuts through the air, striking the top of the cave.

  “Shit!”

  The cave trembles. The top begins to crack. Small rocks tumble. A cave-in is coming.

  There is no time left. If I run any longer, I won’t make it. Damn it, damn it.

  There’s only one choice left; if this fails, I will die.

  I take one last breath.

  Then leap.

  My legs push off like springs, the last of my energy drained in a single jump. I curl in midair, holding Navi tight.

  The cave erupts behind us like it had been holding its breath this whole time.

  Stone collapses in a brutal wave, dust rushing in like a flood. The outside world disappears behind it, sealed off in one violent motion.

  We hit the ground hard.

  I skid across the rock floor, skin tearing open on my arms and elbows, but I keep holding onto Navi, keeping her from slamming into the ground with me.

  Kyros is already at my side before I can even look up. Without a word, he pulls Navi gently from my arms and lays her down against a nearby rock. My arms slump at my sides, twitching from the strain.

  He turns back to me, pointing at me.

  “Kaito… your arms…”

  That’s when it hits.

  A spike of pain stabs directly through my brain, white-hot and merciless. I don’t even scream — it’s like my body’s in too much shock to react.

  I look down.

  The skin on my forearms is flayed in patches, loose and torn, hanging off like wet paper. Beneath it, raw flesh pulses, dark and pink, twisted into spirals from the friction. In places, I can see fat bubbling up from the muscle. There’s even one spot where the white of bone flashes out like a cruel punchline.

  It’s… horrifying.

  All of that from just one impact, trying to shield her from hitting the stone.

  It hurts like hell. I feel like vomiting.

  I slap myself lightly. No time for that. I don’t get to feel sorry right now.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I gasp, barely able to get the words out. My chest heaves. My body’s screaming to shut down, but I’m not giving it permission. I’m running on pure instinct right now.

  Another rumble rolls through the rubble behind us, soft and rhythmic. Almost… hypnotic.

  I glance back.

  The robot. It’s trying to dig through. But with how much collapsed, it’s not getting in here anytime soon.

  “It’ll hold,” I mutter, turning back toward Navi. “I’m sure of it.”

  The cracks in the ceiling above let in enough light to see by. Not great, but enough.

  Kyros is crouched by her leg, already peeling away the leg guard and tearing off a strip of his own cloak with his claws. His movements are careful, precise. Practiced.

  “Is she good?” I ask, but the answer’s already written on his movements.

  He shakes his head, still working. He’s focused like never before, a fact that I take note of.

  Navi lets out a grunt of pain as he inspects the wound. She’s trying not to make any noise, but her face betrays her. Her whole body’s tensed like a coiled spring.

  I finally look at the wound properly.

  A splinter — no, more like a whole damn stake, is embedded in her leg. The skin around it’s gone dark, swollen purple and red. Blood trails down her calf, soaking into the stone beneath her.

  “Kyros…” I start slowly, watching the way his claws hover. “Is it safe to pull it out?”

  “If it were, I would’ve done it already,” he replies without looking at me. “But my hands—” he lifts them slightly.

  “—I cannot grip it without slipping.”

  Right. His claws are too sharp, too inflexible. He can bend them, but not to the same degree a human can.

  The wood’s angled awkwardly too — any wrong move and it could tear more muscle on the way out.

  I hesitate. I know what I’m about to ask. And I know what it means if I mess it up.

  He has the knowledge. I have the hands. If we can work in tandem, this whole situation’s going to be a thing of the past.

  Still…

  “Do you think I can?”

  Kyros is quiet for a moment. Then, with a slow nod, he finally says, “You may. But please be careful. Make sure to stabilize it. One wrong move and the bleeding could worsen. It seems that that it has hit an artery.”

  I nod and scoot forward, sitting on my knees next to Navi’s side.

  The closer I get, the worse it looks. The swelling’s intense. The skin is hot. I can already feel her body trembling, a fever might come soon.

  I glance at her face, and immediately look away, gagging.

  Even now, it’s hard to face her. I hate that fact. I’m traumatized by looking at her face whenever she’s in pain.

  “Sorry, Navi,” I murmur, my gaze travelling to the wound.“This is gonna hurt.”

  No response, just the twitch in her brow, the clenched jaw.

  I rip the edge of my sleeve, twist it up, and press it against her mouth.

  “Bite down.”

  She barely opens her mouth. Weak. Shaking. I gently force it in.

  I take a breath.

  My hand wraps around the splinter, and I immediately regret it, a dozen tiny shards stab into my palm, but I don't let go. I lock my grip, stabilizing the wood. If anything, this helps my grip.

  The resistance is awful.

  The sound it makes when I pull, it’s wet. Thick. A slow, grinding suction, like breaking crackers inside mud.

  She grunts, her eyes watering. She quickly turns her head away.

  I keep pulling.

  My other hand’s bracing her leg to keep it still. I can feel every tremor through her muscles. She grips my shoulder. Weakly, but it's enough to let me know she’s still here. Still feeling it.

  “Almost…” I mutter.

  The splinter’s longer than I thought. It’s not coming out easy. It must’ve scraped past bone, sunk deep into the muscle.

  Blood's running down my arm now. Her blood mixing with mine.

  “Come on,” I growl through my teeth.

  One last pull.

  A sudden gush of blood spills out as the wood finally tears free. The noise she makes is raw, full of pain, almost primal.

  Kyros is ready, pressing the cloth down hard, wrapping and sealing, applying pressure with surprising gentleness.

  I look down at the thing in my hand.

  The splinter is nearly a foot long.

  I stare at it in disbelief.

  “Goddamn,” I whisper.

  It should’ve gone clean through her leg. It's a miracle it didn't.

  Tossing it aside, I groan in pain. My arms are starting really to take a toll on me. The world begins dancing, and becomes numb.

  My head’s swaying from right to left, attempting to stablizie.

  I’m dizzy, I’m out of breathe. Mother of all headaches.

  Shit, everythings catching up to me.

  I sit backwards, attempting to fix my pain, yet it only gets worse. I clench my head, gazing at the scene in front of me. Kyros, tightening the wrap around navi’s leg, stopping the blood presure.

  A gust of wind hits my face. It eels like im soaring.

  Oh that’s right, my head’s falling down.

  The world goes dark.

  __________________________________________________