Blink—blink.
Yuri's eyelids trembled before forcing themselves open, peeling apart as though glued shut for centuries. A surge of white light stabbed into his vision—sharp, merciless, punishing.
He flinched, eyes flickering like dying embers, and raised an arm to shield himself with the sleeve of his torn jacket.
His lungs drew a slow, ragged breath—the kind a drowning man takes when he finally breaks the surface. Every inhale scraped against his ribs, each movement unfamiliar.
His body didn't feel like his own.Heavy.Foreign.Detached.
Thoughts scattered in every direction, rolling across the floor of his mind like loose marbles—impossible to catch. He forced himself to breathe again, to assemble even the faintest outline of consciousness.
Then—It hit him.
His heart jolted sharply, hammering against his chest like it was trying to escape. He shot upright with a gasp, fighting to steady his breath, fighting not to fall apart again. A hand clutched desperately at his racing pulse as he tried to ground himself, inch by trembling inch.
He paused.
Finally—his senses returned.
And then he saw her.
Sitting quietly beside him.
Her messy brown hair fell over her shoulders in tangled waves. Golden caramel eyes—cut sharp enough to pierce straight through him—watched him with that same unreadable expression he remembered from the nightmare of Level 1.
She was the girl who saved him.The girl who watched him break.The girl who, by all logic, was the reason he wasn't dead.
She hugged her legs to her chest, posture guarded yet composed. A sleek black bodysuit clung to her frame, partially hidden beneath a white hooded jacket trimmed with black fur. Matching white boots, edged with the same dark fur, covered her legs; two strapped belts crossed her thigh. A bow rested across her back, arrows tucked neatly beside her—ready, disciplined, prepared.
Yuri's breath hitched.His hand lifted toward her, trembling with disbelief.
Before he could touch her—
She grabbed his wrist. Hard.
The world snapped into focus.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said.Her voice cut like a blade—clean and cold.
Yuri froze.
"I—I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I was just in shock. I didn't think I'd ever see you again—"
She clicked her tongue, the sharp tch enough to shut him up instantly.She released his wrist, though her expression stayed poised in that cool, half-amused composure that gave nothing away.
She let the silence stretch. Long enough for Yuri to second-guess every motion he'd made since waking up.
"That should be my line," she said at last. "I'm surprised you were able to come this far."
The words struck him like a blow.
Memory followed—crashing into him with vicious clarity.
The ruins.The darkness.The nightmare he'd escaped.
But this place—This place was nothing like it.
He looked around, and the sight hollowed him from the inside out.
A desert stretched beyond the horizon—an endless sea of deep, bleeding red sand. Strange curved symbols were carved across the ground, etched into cliffs and hillsides like ancient runes written by dead gods.
He staggered toward the edge of the cliff, barely keeping his balance.
Below, a golden river flowed endlessly. Its surface shimmered with impossible brilliance—as if millions of tiny stars swirled within it, drifting in a current made of liquid light.
Yuri pushed himself upright, unsteady but drawn by a terrible awe. He turned—slowly, cautiously—and his breath left him entirely.
A statue.
No—A titan.
A colossal seated figure carved from forgotten myths, its legs crossed like an ancient monk. Its massive head rested in its stone hands, elbows planted on its knees, staring forward with hollow patience that chilled him to the bone.
It was vast—world-sized—a god reduced to stillness.
Yuri's legs weakened, nearly buckling beneath him.
But when he lifted his gaze higher—
Dread crushed whatever breath he had left.
Suspended above the red desert was a familiar sight.
A broken world.A scarred horizon.A place drenched in destruction.
Level 1.
Hanging above him like a second planet, a twisted mirror of the hell he had escaped.
His jaw trembled. Tears stung his eyes.
"W-what… what is…" he whispered, unable to form anything more. Words simply could not exist for something like this.
A gentle pressure settled on his shoulder.
He turned—and saw her again.
"Welcome to Level Two," she said.Her voice had softened, unexpectedly warm. "I'm glad you made it. Call me Luna."
The shift disarmed him completely.Warmth where he expected suspicion.Sincerity where there should have been distance.
Something inside him loosened—something tight, trembling, desperate.
And privately, in the quiet of her own thoughts, she whispered to herself:
So… I was right the first time.