After forming their pact, Ron followed Rocky through the mist-thick forest.
The deeper they went, the quieter the world became — not even the insects dared to sing. Finally, they stopped before an ancient stone well covered in moss and strange markings that pulsed faintly in the dark.
"Here we are," Rocky said.
Ron frowned. "What? Don't tell me you want me to jump into that thing."
The well yawned like a black mouth. Ron leaned forward, trying to see the bottom, but the darkness swallowed his reflection whole. He bent a little farther—too far. The brick beneath his hand cracked. For a split second, he saw his face mirrored in the abyss — older, hollow-eyed, and unknown. Then the world tilted, and the cold swallowed him.
SPLASH.
The water bit into his skin like claws of ice. His lungs forgot what air was. He kicked and twisted, but something cold and rough gripped his leg, dragging him downward into a darkness that felt ancient. Just when panic threatened to drown him, light flickered — and he was pulled upward.
He surfaced in an underground chamber. His breaths came in short bursts, fogging in the air. The torches on the stone walls burned with purple-blue flames.
"This is my base," Rocky's voice echoed.
Ron coughed, blinking through the mist. In front of Rocky sat a man with his back turned. Even from behind, Ron recognized him instantly.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Ron muttered. "What is he doing here?"
The figure rose, stretching lazily before turning around. A grin split across his face.
"Long time no see, Ron."
"DA?" Ron blinked, almost smiling despite himself. "You're here?"
DA's grin turned roguish. "How've you been? Me? Still handsome, still dangerous."
Ron walked up without a word and slammed his forehead against DA's.
DA staggered back, laughing through the pain. "You used my move. That's cheating!"
Ron chuckled under his breath. Even chaos couldn't kill old habits.
Rocky stood silent, thoughts twisting in disbelief. Ron knows DA…? Who exactly is this guy?
"He's with me," Rocky finally said. "We've been working together on the cure."
"Good," DA replied, his tone darkening. "Then let's pick it up and head for Akira's base."
"We don't know where that is," Rocky said.
DA leaned closer to him, lowering his voice. "Ron does. He dreams through Akira's eyes."
Rocky's eyes flicked toward Ron. "Is that true?"
Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah. Every night. I see what he sees — the tunnels, the infected. They're all gathering beneath the world's largest prison."
They formed a plan.
"No killing," Ron said. "Just knock them out. They're still people."
---
When they reached the outskirts of the prison, the air hung thick with smog. The ground trembled faintly, as if the earth itself was afraid.
"The guards," Ron whispered, "they're infected too."
Rocky's gaze hardened. "Eighty percent of the world is gone. The rest hide, praying someone else survives the night. But…" He hesitated. "I think we're missing something."
Ron turned. "Something wrong?"
"Ron," Rocky said quietly, "go back to the graveyard. The shadow we met there mentioned a larger plan. I can feel it moving."
DA nodded. "We're running out of time. Go, Ron. We'll handle this side. One of us should've stayed for Carter and Locki."
Without a word, Ron vanished into the fog.
---
DA and Rocky moved closer to the prison. The torches along the outer wall flickered green.
"Through the eyes of the infected," DA said, "faces vanish. They only see what's inside — lungs, hearts, bones. And when infection takes root, a leaf covers the heart. That's how they know their own."
A ripple moved through the shadows. The infected guards surrounded them — hollow eyes glowing like dying stars.
DA sighed. "Showtime."
BOOOOOOM!
The explosion split the night apart. The main gate shattered, metal screaming as the wall caved. Smoke poured out like a storm.
"Go, Rocky!" DA shouted. "I'll hold them off!"
Rocky nodded and vanished, his speed slicing through the chaos like lightning.
---
Ron reached the graveyard soon after. The air was still. The portal pulsed faintly — like a living heart. He took a step forward but hit something unseen. An invisible force pressed against his chest, keeping him out.
"What the hell…?" he muttered. The portal shimmered, as if mocking him. His heartbeat began to sync with its rhythm.
Something inside me doesn't belong here.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Ron turned — an old man stood among the graves, leaning on a silver cane. The mist curled around him like he'd been standing there forever.
"So," the man said, voice calm and slow. "You can't enter. That's a first. The Plant of Miracles… fears you."
"Who are you?" Ron asked, cautious.
The old man smiled, shadow stretching unnaturally long across the gravestones. "Who am I? Just a relic left behind by time. Or maybe the last sin this world remembers."
"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded.
"This plant you speak of," the old man said softly, "it's only a branch of something older. There are other ways to reach the Dimension of Wirelia."
Ron scoffed. "Do I look like I'd trust some cryptic old man? I might look young, but I've seen centuries."
The man laughed, and the graves around him trembled. "You remind me of him. Reckless. Fearless. The last man who spoke to me like that started The Great Massacre."
He struck his cane against the ground. The world cracked open. Reality bent and tore like shattered glass.
Ron was pulled through dimensions — flashes of bleeding skies, burning oceans, and shadowed cities. When the distortion stopped, he stood in a dim tunnel, light flickering weakly overhead.
The air smelled of rust and rot. As he walked, he noticed a torn poster stuck to the wall:
> THE "FOSTER" ORGANIZATION
By K. George
Ron frowned. "Some kind of organization?"
He took another step forward — and froze.
A faint voice echoed from behind.
"It's all my fault… forgive me…"
It wasn't a sound. It was a presence inside his skull. Ron pressed a hand to his temple, breathing slow. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he was walking forward — or if the tunnel itself was walking him deeper in.
He finally reached a stone wall.
"You've got to be kidding me. A dead end?"
He stepped back, eyes narrowing. "Old man, if this is your joke…"
BOOOM!
The wall exploded outward in a burst of purple flame — and through the smoke, a familiar voice shouted.
"Ron?! What are you doing here?" Rocky emerged from the haze, coughing.
Ron smirked. "Guess the old man didn't lie. I was aiming for Carter and Locki, but ended up here."
Then the rumble began. The tunnel walls shook. Dozens—no, hundreds—of infected figures crawled from the dark, their eyes glowing green.
Ron drew his blade, a thin smile curving across his face.
"I've seen worse dreams," he muttered. "Let's wake this one up."
As soon as Akira was cured, every infected person collapsed to the ground at once—like puppets whose strings had been cut.
A thick blue and purplish fog began to seep from their bodies, rising slowly before dissolving into the air. The giants that Ron had been fighting screamed as their forms vaporized into mist, vanishing completely.
Far away, DA's spell reached the heart of the Plant. Its core shattered, and the monstrous roots began to decay, turning gray and brittle. The entire structure started to rot from within.
Rocky dashed to DA in a blur of light.
"Hey! How do we get out of here?!" he shouted.
DA opened his mouth to reply—
but the ground rumbled violently beneath them.
Cracks split open across the floor, and from within those fissures, a blinding white light poured out, flooding the entire dimension.
"Damn it!" DA yelled, shielding his eyes. "The dimension's collapsing!"
The light surged upward, swallowing everything in sight—the sky, the prison, the dying Plant, even the mountains of unconscious people.
And then—
The Dimension of Wirelia exploded.
A soundless flash filled existence.
The world shattered into fragments of light and shadow…
and all that remained was silence.