Time started moving again without warning.
Luis barely had time to realize it before his body reacted in the worst possible way.
He fell to his knees on a cold, dust-covered floor, seized by a violent retch that ran through his stomach from top to bottom. A bitter, thick liquid escaped his mouth, staining the blackened stone in front of him. He vomited once. Then again. And once more, even though there was nothing left inside.
The world spun.
His vision fractured into edges that did not quite fit, as if reality itself had been poorly assembled. The walls seemed to tilt at impossible angles when he did not look at them directly, and when he blinked, he could have sworn he saw silhouettes that were not there.
"Shit…" he muttered, his voice broken.
Cold sweat soaked his back. Every breath felt heavy, forced, as if the air were too dense for his lungs. He braced one hand against the ground to avoid collapsing completely.
The stone was freezing, rough.
It was real.
Too real.
'That bastard…'
The memory came back like a sharp blow. Sorore's voice. Its empty words. The way it mocked him.
Luis clenched his teeth.
It had not been just a conversation or a vision. Something had entered his mind. Fragments of something vast, terrifying, impossible to understand… and yet burned into his memory.
The Devourer.
Sorore.
He had not seen their true forms. Only shadows, outlines, suggestions. And even so, his body was paying the price.
Another dry heave forced him to bend forward again, this time without vomiting anything. Just a sharp, humiliating spasm.
"You sent me here to die…" he whispered, his voice heavy with hatred. "You threw me away like trash."
There was no answer.
Of course there wasn't.
Luis laughed through his teeth, a brief, bitter laugh that scraped his throat.
"Coward."
The dizziness did not fade, but staying still made it worse. Every time he closed his eyes, impossible shapes layered themselves over the darkness of his eyelids. So he forced himself to stand, swaying, leaning against a nearby metal structure.
Only then did he really look at where he was.
The place was enormous.
He stood in what looked like a long hall, with a high ceiling that had partially collapsed. Around him lay rusted remains of what seemed to have been colossal machinery: gear wheels taller than him, twisted beams, metal plates perforated by time.
Siege engines.
Luis frowned.
Thick chains hung from the ceiling, some broken, others swaying slightly with a breeze whose source he could not identify. The air smelled of dampness, rust, and ancient dust.
'Great…' he thought, rubbing his face. 'A war junkyard.'
He moved forward carefully, each step echoing too loudly in the sepulchral silence. There were no bodies. No human remains. Only ruins. As if everything had been removed… or had disappeared so long ago that no trace remained.
The place did not feel abandoned.
It felt forgotten—like him.
As he advanced, a new chill crawled up the back of his neck. Not the feeling of being watched, but something worse: the certainty that this place had seen too much violence to preserve anything but echoes.
"I don't want to save this world," he murmured. "They should fix their own problems…"
An opening at the far end of the hall caught his attention. A crumbling stone arch that led to an inner courtyard.
And there, the contrast hit him full force.
A small garden stretched out in the middle of the ruin.
Flowers.
Alive.
They grew between cracked stone, surrounding a dry fountain covered in moss. They were not especially beautiful, but they were impossible, and unsettling.
Luis stopped cold.
His stomach twisted again, though this time not from physical nausea, but pure instinct.
"No…" he muttered. "This doesn't fit."
Among the flowers, a single bud stood out. Closed, with a color distinct from the others.
The air vibrated.
The bud slowly opened, and from within emerged a small, faint sphere of violet light. A dim, deep glow that seemed to absorb more than it illuminated.
"Stay back," Luis growled immediately, stepping away.
The sphere floated at chest height.
"You have no reason to fear," said a soft, almost kind voice. "I can help you."
The mere sound of that voice triggered a dry retch. His body reacted before his mind.
'Not another thing like that.'
"Help me?" he spat with contempt. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"I can grant you a wish," the light replied, its voice sweet and seemingly innocent.
Luis let out a short laugh, filled with venom.
"Sure. You're not the first talking ethereal being I've met," he said, turning his back on it. "Find a fool who cares."
Without waiting for an answer, he walked away from the garden and kept moving until he found an exit.
The outside greeted him with an icy wind.
He walked a few meters and realized he was at the top of a mountain.
In the distance, a dense forest stretched as far as the eye could see. The sky was gray, heavy. There were no clear roads, only a narrow path that descended, winding between the trees.
And then he saw it.
Torches.
Several of them.
Moving in a line along the path, climbing upward.
Luis barely had time to react before an arrow slammed violently into the trunk of a tree, just inches from his face.
His heart lurched.
"Shit!"
The lights on the path seemed to speed up, while another arrow struck the ground a few meters from him.
'Perfect…' he thought, moving away as fast as he could.
He ran back inside the castle.
The garden was still there, as was the violet light.
In the same place.
Waiting for him.
"You will not leave alive if they find you," the voice said calmly. "And the forest will not be merciful to you either."
Luis stopped, panting, his fists clenched.
"Shut up," he growled. "What do you know?"
"I know you do not want to run," it replied.
Luis lifted his gaze, furious.
"What the hell are you?" he asked cautiously.
The sphere vibrated slightly.
"A fairy."
A brief silence took over the place.
"I can feel them. They are getting closer and closer," it added with ironic concern. "If you want to live, accept my help."
Luis closed his eyes for a second, feeling anger, desperation, and disgust mix in his chest.
He didn't want this.
Everything was too suspicious. And yet, he did not want to die either.
He opened his eyes.
And took a step toward the light, extending his hand.