Time passed in measured silence.
The cave was still, save for the occasional sound of shifting stone outside—a distant reminder of the ever-changing landscape of the Soulrealm.
Hope sat near the entrance, eyes watching the darkness beyond.
Massa had fallen asleep sometime ago, her breaths steady and deep.
Nefer, however…
Her breathing was too measured.
Too controlled.
She was awake.
And watching him.
Hope didn't comment on it.
If she didn't trust him yet, that was her problem.
He simply shook his head, pulled out his makeshift dagger, and cut another piece of meat.
The bitter taste barely registered anymore.
—
"You know we'd be needing it tomorrow, right?"
The voice cut through the quiet, smooth but firm.
Nefer.
Hope didn't stop chewing.
"The meat, you mean?"
"Yeah."
Hope sighed.
"I know."
—
A pause.
Then:
"Do you think we'd survive the Soulrealm?"
Hope's chewing slowed.
For a moment, he didn't answer.
Not because he was hesitating—but because he was actually thinking.
Survival was never guaranteed.
Not here. Not in the Veil's domain.
Even now, more awaited them.
More horrors. More trials.
Hope exhaled.
"I believe if we try our best to survive, we might have a fighting chance."
He meant that.
Even if it wasn't enough, he had to believe it.
—
Nefer hummed.
A thoughtful, considering sound.
Then, her voice came again.
"If you only rely on survival, you won't make it, Hopeless."
Hope stopped chewing.
Swallowed.
The name lingered in the air.
Hopeless.
—
Hope sighed.
"Back in the Outskirts, that's what mattered," he said.
"Survive or die."
It was that simple.
That brutal.
That unforgiving.
"I'm not even sure if I'll survive this place."
"I was lucky to survive the first trial."
"But this…?"
He let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it.
"I just want to try my best to survive. And even if I die…"
He hesitated.
Then continued.
"At least I'll know I tried."
"At least that's worth trying for."
—
Nefer listened.
For once, she didn't immediately respond.
She just took in his words, let them settle.
Then, after a long pause, she finally spoke.
"If you survive, who will be waiting for you back in the waking world?"
—
Hope smiled.
Wry.
Bitter.
He already knew the answer.
"Maybe the government."
"But apart from that… no one."
A breath.
A quieter voice.
"I don't even know my parents."
—
A flicker of something passed through Nefer's expression.
She didn't say anything immediately.
But Hope could see the understanding in her eyes.
Still, he wasn't looking for pity.
And he definitely didn't want it.
—
"You know…" he said quietly, voice unreadable.
"It's a strange thing—when you have no one waiting for you."
"There's no home to return to."
"No face to look forward to seeing."
"It means death isn't the worst thing."
"It means sometimes, living feels just as empty."
—
The words hung between them.
Soft.
Heavy.
And for the first time since the conversation started, Nefer had no response.