Setting foot once again on the land of his birth, Dathweet stepped off the boat, eyes flicking around.
The scenery hadn't changed much from his memories. The same old streets, weathered wooden rooftops, the scent of earth after rain, and the forest wind drifting down from the north.
He unstrapped the Blackrise sword from his back and handed it to Ras.
Dathweet:
"Hold onto this for me. I don't want to carry it right now."
Ras (taking it, nodding):
"Alright. So what are you planning… before it's time?"
Dathweet (detached):
"Take a walk. Look at everything. One last time."
He wandered through the city.
A different face. A changed figure.
No one recognized him.
And no one had a reason to.
This city was too vast. His old memories… now nothing more than an echo in a nameless crowd.
He stopped at the central square.
Looked around. No familiar faces.
And yet it was this unfamiliarity… that made him feel like he had truly died — once already.
He stood in the middle of the square, the heart of his past.
He stood there for a long while, as if waiting for something… then quietly moved on.
He stopped at a roadside flower shop. Bought a simple bouquet of white flowers.
Then left the city. Headed north — into the ancient forest.
Past the deep woods, a small wooden cabin emerged beneath the canopy.
Gray-tiled roof, aged timber walls, lying silent amid the dense green.
He didn't go in.
Just stood a few steps away.
Beside the house was a small plot, bordered with stones. A simple headstone sat there.
The name carved on it: Hakan.
He didn't know who had built the grave. He didn't ask.
He simply laid the bouquet down quietly, then turned to leave.
At that moment — the cabin door creaked open.
He turned back.
A girl stood in the doorway. Eyes wide. Stunned.
But not afraid.
Furina.
Furina:
"Edie…?
Is it really you?"
Dathweet (tilting his head slightly):
"How did you recognize me?"
Furina (eyes still locked on him):
"I have my father's eyes. I see things others don't.
You were said to be dead… a year ago.
And now you return from the dead."
Dathweet (with a faint smile):
"You don't seem that shocked. You living here now?"
Furina:
"Yes. After he passed… I wanted to know the life he lived.
What kind of good man he had become.
What about you? Why come back here?"
Dathweet (looking her straight in the eyes):
"To die… one more time."
Furina (brows furrowing slightly):
"What do you mean by that? Your face… it looks like it could kill anyone who comes too close.
What happened to you?"
Dathweet (turning away, not answering):
"I've gone mad.
And I want to know… how far gone I really am."
He walked away.
Never looked back.
His silhouette faded into the forest,
as if the conversation had never happened at all.
The mansion appeared ahead — the place he'd grown up in.
Once a "home." Now, just a tall, silent structure, cold as the face of the past.
But he was no longer Edie.
He had no right to walk through the front door.
No one would welcome him.
There was no place left for him there.
So he climbed over the gate in silence,
avoiding all eyes, slipping through shadows to stay unseen.
A second-story window was slightly ajar.
He leapt up, grabbed the edge of the wall, and slid himself inside.
It was the study.
Just as it had always been.
Books neatly arranged. Thick stacks of documents.
The smell of old wood and ink mixed in the air.
And in the middle of the room…
Was a man.
Sitting silently at the desk.
Roock. The father — not by blood.
Roock (looking up, frowning):
"Who are you?"
Dathweet (smiling faintly):
"Oh come on. Don't play dumb.
You know exactly who I am."
Roock (chuckling softly):
"It's been a while…
You look much more grown up. And just as grim — like someone ready to kill at any moment."
Dathweet:
"I'm not even sure why I came here.
Maybe just… if today was the day I died,
I wanted to see this place one last time."
Roock:
"I just heard from Ras.
You may not be my blood… but not once did I ever see you as anything less than a son.
You might not have known, but out of all my kids — I always had a soft spot for you.
Even when you were a damn unmanageable brat."
Dathweet (smirking lightly):
"Back then I only ever talked to you… when I needed money. Or a favor."
Roock (nodding):
"True. You were a chronic headache.
I was honestly ashamed of you.
But… I still couldn't give up on you."
He stood up. Walked toward him.
No warning — just a quiet, firm hug.
Roock (softly):
"Every parent just wants their child to live well.
So… if you can still live,
please — live."
No more words were spoken.
Dathweet left the room without looking back.
Only Roock remained, standing still, eyes tinged with sorrow, gazing at the open window.
He wasn't the biological father.
Not the perfect one either.
But he was the only father who dared to admit fault,
dared to show affection,
and dared to say the one thing most fathers spend a lifetime too afraid to say.
Dathweet left the mansion.
The sun was already dipping low. He walked slowly through the streets, then stopped at a small teahouse by the roadside.
No one paid him any attention — just a stranger with a face no one remembered.
He chose a quiet corner by the window and ordered a cup of tea.
Outside, sunlight spilled across the old rooftops. The wind nudged a few leaves off the trees, sending them drifting onto the sidewalk.
He sat in silence. Then spoke — in his mind.
Dathweet:
"Hey, Ken. Is there something else you've been hiding from me?"
Ken (hesitant):
(There is. I was going to tell you later. But… I don't think we have that kind of time anymore.)
Dathweet:
"Let's hear it."
Ken:
(Anyone with Redsol blood… carries a primordial entity within them.
It has a form — unique to each host. And at a certain point… it awakens.
If you defeat it, you gain its full power.
If you lose… you become it. Literally.)
Dathweet (sipping his tea, eyes unreadable):
"Sounds like another trial waiting for me.
If I live long enough to reach it."
Ken:
(That's not all. There's something else I've kept from you.)
Dathweet:
"What is it?"
Ken (slowly, almost reluctant):
(There's… another personality inside you.)
Dathweet:
"…Who?"
Ken:
(He was born during your captivity under Coss.
When you were forced to witness a society stripped of morality, your mind cracked under the trauma.
He is a fractured reflection of you — warped, unhinged… yet terrifyingly lucid.)
Dathweet:
"I've never seen him."
Ken:
(Because I never let him surface. I've locked him away, always.
He's brilliant — but dangerous.
If set free, he would do anything, anything at all, as long as it achieves the goal.)
Dathweet (exhaling slowly):
"Another equation to solve…
If I survive the Burning, I'll have to face him next."
Ken:
(Yes. But at least…
He's like me in one regard — he wants to help you find the light.
The difference is… he no longer believes in moral lines.)
Dathweet didn't reply.
He just kept looking out the window.
The tea was still warm.
But the air was growing colder.
The teahouse remained quiet.
Evening sunlight slanted through the glass, casting streaks across the worn tile floor.
Dathweet sat there, tea slowly cooling.
Then — a stranger approached the table.
Palic:
"Hello, Edie.
You remember me, don't you?
I'm tired. Tired of hiding behind curtains.
Now… it's time to step into the light."
Dathweet (eyes fixed on the man):
"Who are you?"
Palic (softly, with a faint smile):
"I'm Palic Redsol.
Your uncle.
And the one who once wanted you dead."
Dathweet:
"Then why are you here now?"
Palic:
"Not to kill. That's grown tiresome.
Killing a broken man isn't fun. I've tried everything — turned you into a menace, threw you in the dirt, gave you a dream family just to crush it…
And yet you're still alive. Still sitting here, that same damn face.
That's enough.
I came here to say: I'm done trying to kill you."
Ken (quick and sharp in Dathweet's head):
(That's not Palic.
Might just be a pawn sent to observe your reaction.
Don't show any emotion, Dathweet.
The real Palic… might be very close.)
Dathweet let out a soft laugh. His voice breezy as wind.
Dathweet:
"Don't try to provoke me.
There will come a time when I find you.
Somehow.
And when I do… you won't be ready, Two-X."
Palic (raising an eyebrow):
"Who do you think you are?
Even the police don't know what Two-X is. The government's blind to it.
And you — a dead man — think you'll find me?"
Dathweet (eyes cold as ice):
"By any means."
Before the man could react —
Dathweet stood.
His left hand locked around the man's neck.
Right hand tore his jaw sideways — a sickening crack echoed.
The body crumpled to the floor.
Screams. Panic.
Customers fled the teahouse in terror.
Dathweet remained still.
He picked up his cooled tea and drank it all.
Then raised his gaze to the sky.
Dathweet (shouting, voice echoing like a war cry):
"Keep hiding in the dark, Palic.
The day will come — I will kill you."
A message in blood — repaid in blood.
The man on the floor was just a body.
But Dathweet's words… struck straight into the mind of the one behind it all.
A message in blood — repaid in blood.
The corpse was a shell.
But the fury had found its mark.
Dathweet lingered a while longer in that tattered little teahouse, flickering lamplight casting shadows across cracked wooden walls.
When he heard the sound of footsteps in the distance — metal clinking on dirt — he quietly slipped away before the guards could arrive.
He walked toward the outskirts, where the river lay quiet.
Only dry grass shivered in the night wind.
There, Ras was waiting.
Beside him stood four men in dark robes, each holding a black stone orb etched with runes — the Pyre Mages.
Ras (glancing over):
"Kill a man, and still take your sweet time."
Dathweet (not even denying it):
"You're quick with updates, huh."
Ras:
"I don't like leaving you wandering loose.
As for the murder… don't worry, I'll find someone to take the fall.
You — focus on the bigger task."
Dathweet (gazing at the river):
"Then do you know who I just killed?"
Ras (calmly):
"Two-X, right?
Ignore him.
He just wanted to test the waters — to see how you'd react."
Dathweet:
"So… you know everything about him?"
Ras (shaking his head lightly):
"Not everything. I've seen his face.
But knowing his face doesn't mean you can kill him.
To expose him… would drag all of my crimes into the light.
We're both holding each other in a fragile balance."
Dathweet (looking straight at Ras):
"One day… I'll break that balance.
I've found a way — so you don't need to worry anymore."
Ras (studying him, then nodding slowly):
"Then… are you ready?"
Dathweet:
"I'm ready."
Ras stepped back. The four mages moved forward, surrounding him in a square. One of them raised the orb — a flash of crimson light burst into the night sky.
A pillar of fire shot up from the ground — engulfing his body.
Dathweet collapsed in the very first second.
The flames burned through layers of skin, muscle, even his breath.
He screamed — but no sound came out.
Only the boiling of blood, the crackling of flesh, and absolute loneliness in the fire.
The pain was no longer a sensation — it became his entire existence.
Then… slowly… it stopped hurting.
The nerves had died.
Only emptiness remained.
Ras stood outside, expressionless, but his fists clenched tight — as if holding back a deep, gnawing fear.
In the heart of the flames, Dathweet opened his eyes — then closed them again.
One final moment.
He felt himself suspended in endless darkness.
No body. No sound.
Only him — and the bottomless void.
Then… he sank.
As if drifting into somewhere beyond death.
All his memories began rewinding like a tape on fast reverse.
Places, people, pain, laughter — everything flickered through Dathweet's mind like a film returning to its very first frame.
Suddenly — it stopped.
A scene appeared.
He was in a hospital… at age seventeen.
The faces, the hallways, the light — but he couldn't recall ever being there.
Before he could even process it, a twitch in his chest jolted him upright.
But the hill where he was burned… was gone.
This was somewhere else entirely.
A space filled with grey mist, a strange light that had no visible source.
In front of him stood a rotting wooden sign, its letters faded but still legible:
Hollow Echo
(→ this way)
The sign gently swayed in the wind.
No one was there, and yet… something felt like it was waiting.
Dathweet was still unsteady on his feet when a familiar voice called out.
Lyun:
"Hello, Dathweet. Remember me?"
He spun around.
She stood there — soft eyes, a gentle smile that never seemed to have vanished.
Dathweet:
"Lyun…? Why are you here? Don't tell me… I've fallen into the mind world (Noesis)?"
Lyun:
"Well… just because I'm here doesn't mean it's Noesis, right? But yeah. You guessed it."
Dathweet stepped back slightly, scanning the area.
The mist thickened. Wind began to whisper past his ears.
He bent to pick up a stone at his feet — but it made no sound. No sensation.
Dathweet:
"So how do I leave this place? Kill myself?"
Lyun:
"If you want to drop straight into Deepvoll, go ahead."
She pointed toward the "Hollow Echo" sign.
Beyond the mist, the path curved out of sight — as if a dead town were calling him inward.
Lyun:
"If you want to live… you'll have to go in there. Find your own way out."
Dathweet:
"What's in there for me?"
Lyun:
"Who knows. But I'm sure of one thing — it won't be anything pleasant."
Dathweet froze.
An unease rose up inside him.
He looked around, as if suddenly realizing something important.
Dathweet:
"…Where's Ken?"
Lyun:
"He's not here. This is your Noesis. And you… are alone on this layer."
She took a few steps, drawing a circle in the mist with her hand.
Lyun:
"This place is locked in. You're in deep unconsciousness. Want to wake up? You'll have to go in. Do something. Then find your way out."
Dathweet:
"Do you really… not know what this place is?"
Lyun:
"It's your mind. How would I know? I was only created… to follow you."
Dathweet:
"But I don't want to go with you."
She wasn't upset.
Just smiled — softly, a bit sadly, and with a hint of danger.
Lyun:
"Really? Or… are you just afraid that if you go with me a little longer, you'll fall in love with me again?"
Dathweet didn't answer.
He simply turned away — and stepped into the mist.
She quietly followed.
Beyond the mist was a dark forest, branches dry like bones, fog crawling over the ground.
Lyun shivered slightly, then suddenly grabbed his hand.
A real touch — like begging him to believe she was real.
After a while, a grand mansion appeared amidst the fog.
The wooden door stood ajar, as if inviting them in.
Dathweet:
"So I have to go in there… right?"
Lyun:
"Right. And a little spoiler — there are four more places you'll need to visit."
No more words were exchanged.
Only two silhouettes, barely visible in the mist — quietly walking toward the door.
And from this moment on, nothing would ever be the same again.
— end of chapter —