"How are you feeling, Arthur?"
Abigail slowly peeled off and removed the wrapped bandages. Perhaps due to his status as a ranger, Arthur, though older, still had a physique far stronger than most. The once gruesome wounds had now mostly healed, leaving a faint white scar beneath his aged skin.
"Pretty good..." Arthur said, recalling all he had been through, unable to suppress a sigh. "Being alive feels pretty good."
Arthur rarely had nightmares anymore, but since regaining consciousness, he always dreamt of that final journey.
That unbearably long journey.
In corridors filled with rust and blood, whether moving forward or backward, there was only a darkness impossible to see through. He ran madly, but never reached the end, only eroding his will in this long despair.
Stepping over dense blood puddles, inhaling the suffocating stench, witnessing one familiar corpse after another...
