Help.
It echoed in the silence—
A desperate cry I never meant to speak aloud.
Yet it was there, trembling in the dark.
Then… he touched me.
The moment his hand reached mine—everything shattered.
Not in pain.
Not in fear.
But like chains breaking after a lifetime of weight.
Everything opened.
And I saw him.
He stepped into the darkness where I hid.
The space I made for myself—the void where I curled tight.
Alone. Cold. Silent.
He walked through it like it didn't scare him.
And stopped in front of me.
I looked up at him, heart racing, voice shaking.
"Who are you?"
But deep down… I already knew.
He was warm, even in the dark.
The light followed him—not blinding, just… there.
He knelt.
And when he looked at me, I saw it.
The sorrow in his eyes.
It was my sorrow.
It was me.
Scarred.
Forgotten.
Buried beneath years of fear.
He reached out a hand.
I flinched.
The fear came rushing back—I didn't want to be hurt again.
So I backed away, deeper into the dark.
But he didn't stop.
His voice was low, quiet. Kind.
"Hi, Ren."
I didn't understand him.
So I asked again.
"Who are you?"
He answered, softer than before—
"I'm you."
I froze.
"We're the same," he said.
I wanted to believe him.
But could I?
He kept talking, and each word hit like a memory I never allowed myself to feel.
"Maybe I should've done this long ago. I ignored you… the part of me that hurt. But you're not alone anymore."
His voice cracked. I heard it.
"I hated the fear. The sorrow. I thought pretending it wasn't real would make it disappear…"
He paused.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't understand why… but hearing that broke something in me.
Then came the words I never thought I'd hear:
"You can make a different choice."
He reached out again.
His hand trembled.
But it was steady.
"Take it," he whispered. "Choose the light… or the dark. Either way, I'll be there. I just want to give you what I lost—the light I once had."
And in that moment, something stirred in me.
Hope.
I didn't move at first.
I stared at him, hand outstretched.
This boy—this version of me—believed in something I never thought existed.
Freedom.
I raised my hand… slowly.
Then I touched his.
He pulled me close—into a hug so warm, so real—I didn't know how to react.
I broke.
Everything I had kept locked inside spilled out like tears I'd forgotten how to cry.
And I whispered, barely audible—
"Thank you."
---
The world shifted.
A strange voice—like a divine echo—resounded within him yet i heard it clearly.
I felt it before I understood it.
The light.
Not the kind that burns.
Not the kind that blinds.
But the kind that heals.
It touched every part of me I thought was dead.
Every part I abandoned.
It filled me.
For the first time… I felt whole.
Then the final message echoed—
[ Conditions for user to return have been fulfilled ]
[ Due to the user's state, return will commence]
---
Even after waiting,his eyes were still closed.
For a long time, he didn't move. I just sat there, watching, waiting… hoping.
I didn't know what to do.
The moment he collapsed, I caught him. He didn't respond. His pulse, his breathing—they were faint, too faint. The Scape had taken him back, but something about him felt different now.
I never left his side.
I laid a blanket over him. My hand hovered over his chest sometimes, checking to make sure he was still breathing.
I couldn't stop hoping, i knew what it meant to lose to things. The connection i felt with him was strange yet it felt like it was something i had been waiting for.
When his eyes finally opened, I almost didn't believe it.
He blinked slowly, like the light itself hurt. I moved closer.
"Master…"
That word felt heavier than usual. My voice cracked around it. It wasn't just respect—it was everything I never said out loud.
He looked at me. Confused, tired… but alive.
I handed him the Everbloom . He reached for it weakly. I guided it to his lips. The way he drank—it was like he hadn't felt something real in forever.
Then he asked, "How long was I out?"
"Two days," I answered.
He blinked. But something shifted in his eyes—not panic. Just… realization. He didn't tell me what he saw. He didn't need to.
He went quiet. I felt it too—something had changed inside him. Something deep. And somehow… I knew. This was the turning point.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For the stress. For everything."
I didn't know how to respond to that. So I just nodded.
"I know you want to find the truth," I said. "We will."
But then she came.
Her presence rippled through the Scape before she even spoke.
"You've changed again, Night," Sylvia said.
Her gaze wasn't hostile. Just… searching. Like she saw something I didn't understand.
She stepped closer, eyes narrowed—but not in suspicion. More like sorrow.
"The more I think about it… your power—no, you—you're something far more than I can describe. I have no reason to question you, but…"
She hesitated.
"Have you made your choice? Do you wish to dominate? Or to sacrifice? Why... why do you want power?"
I held my breath. I didn't know what he would say.
But he didn't even blink.
"I'm broken," he said.
My chest tightened.
He looked down slightly. His voice didn't shake—but I knew he was unraveling inside.
"I don't have a real reason to live… not one that feels enough. But I still want to live. I keep moving forward because I'm scared—scared to die, scared to lose. And I know that if I stop now, everything I've carried… all of it will be for nothing."
He looked her in the eyes.
"But I won't stop. I have to get stronger—not just for me, but for everyone who's felt the same way. Everyone who's ever broken and couldn't stand back up. I'll carry their pain too. I'll fight so no one else has to feel like I did."
There was silence. Not the quiet kind—one filled with weight. Grief. Memory.
Then he added, even softer:
"I will destroy what needs to fall… but I'll protect what must be saved. I've buried this part of me, hidden it behind strength and silence. But not anymore."
He didn't hide the tears this time.
Neither did I.
"I want to live," he said. "Not just survive. Live."
Sylvia stood quietly. I saw her expression shift—just a little. The warrior faded. Something softer stood in her place.
"I didn't know," she said. "Actually… I couldn't tell. It seems I chose the right person. I want to see the change you'll bring. Maybe… you really will become the strongest."
I stepped forward, and without thinking, I hugged him.
He stiffened for a second.
But then, he melted into it.
It was strange—hugging someone who was me. But he wasn't me anymore. And I wasn't him. I was Ren.
And for the first time, I didn't feel hollow.
I felt real.
---
Three days passed.
His body had healed, mostly. But I could still sense it—there was pain inside him. The kind that doesn't bleed.
We trained.
Sylvia didn't hold back. She never did.
A wooden sword flew toward him. I watched him catch it like it weighed nothing. A spark had returned to his movements.
"You ready, Night?" she asked, eyes fierce but strangely... sad.
He nodded.
We moved together.
Every step, every swing, it felt like something deeper was guiding us. His blade didn't just cut—it spoke. It cried. It mourned.
Sorrow Style.
I matched his steps without needing words. I knew what he needed. Where to move. Where to fall back. Where to strike.
He landed a hit—barely. A small one. But his smirk made it feel like a victory.
Then she hit him.
He crashed to the ground.
"Never drop your guard," Sylvia muttered.
He smiled. A real one.
But then, something shifted again.
A movement in the trees. A shadow.
Sylvia's blade tore through air and flesh before the thing even fully appeared. Trees cracked behind her. I didn't even see what it was.
She was terrifying.
"Rematch," he said.
Of course he said that.
---
By the third rematch, we were both on the ground, panting. I could barely move.
Sylvia still stood tall. Her expression hadn't changed. She wasn't tired.
"Is that all you can do?" she asked. Her voice was cold—but not cruel.
"If that's your limit, your dream might as well stay a dream."
He stood again.
So did I.
No words. Just motion.
He turned intangible. I'd only seen him do that a few times. Sylvia's eyes narrowed.
Then, he reformed.
A pulse of shadow spilled over me. I understood the plan instantly.
We moved.
Bloodlust rolled off him.
She felt it too.
"Night… you think tricks will save you?"
She swung.
Mist cracked.
I ran forward. She moved to stop me, but Night shadowed me just in time—I slipped through.
My hand touched her shoulder.
The veil bloomed forward. Draining my aen.
It wrapped her in full.
We won.
He dropped to the ground, breathing hard.
I smiled.
But then—
I felt it.
Something was wrong.
The veil split.
Her voice came like thunder.
"Night."
She stepped forward.
Her pressure could crush stars.
I froze.
He didn't.
He dismissed me without a word and ran like his life depended on it.
As i vanished i couldn't help but laugh.
Sylvia's voice roared through the trees behind him—
"COME BACK HERE, NIGHT!"