The air grew colder with every step Kento took down the stone stairway. The faint light of the forest above slowly faded behind him, swallowed by an oppressive darkness that thickened like a living thing. Each footfall echoed against the ancient stone walls, as if the underground itself was whispering back at him.
He didn't know how long he'd been walking, only that the air felt heavier every second—like memories long buried were pressing against his skin.
The man in black didn't speak. He simply led the way, never turning back, his cloak brushing against the stone floor with a soft, steady sound. The further they descended, the more Kento began to notice faint carvings on the walls—spirals, broken circles, and symbols that looked disturbingly similar to eyes.
One of them, larger than the rest, seemed to follow him with its gaze.
Kento swallowed. "What is this place…?"
For a moment, it seemed the man wouldn't respond. But then, without slowing his pace, he answered in a low, almost reverent tone.
"This is the Path of the Forgotten. A place that only opens to those who still carry a living promise within their heart."
Kento glanced down at the wooden emblem hanging on his chest. The moment his fingers touched its surface, a faint warmth stirred beneath his skin.
"Was your promise… the reason you came through this path too?"
The man's steps faltered—only for a heartbeat, but Kento noticed.
"…Yes," he said, without turning around. "Though I was not alone when I first came here."
Kento opened his mouth to ask more, but a sudden sound cut him off.
Tap… tap…
A small stone rolled down the stairs behind him.
He turned sharply. No one was there. Only empty darkness stretched behind them.
"Did you hear that?" Kento whispered.
The man in black didn't answer, but his hand slid to the inside of his cloak, ready for whatever might emerge.
The staircase finally opened into a vast underground hall.
Great pillars of stone rose into the darkness above, supporting a ceiling so high it disappeared from sight. A dried riverbed cut through the center of the hall, winding like a dead serpent. On the far side stood an ancient gate made of black iron, locked by chains that pulsed faintly with a dim crimson light.
Kento stepped forward, eyes wide. "What… is this place?"
"This," the man said, "is where this world first began to forget itself."
He walked toward the dried riverbed and knelt down, brushing his fingers over the cracked earth. A faint shimmering glow sparked beneath his touch—memories long gone, striving to rise back to the surface.
"This river," he continued, "once carried the memories of the world. Every hope, every sorrow, every promise… it flowed here. But when the sky was sealed, the river dried—and the memories vanished with it."
Kento's chest tightened.
"The sky… Why was it sealed?"
The man in black stood up, his gaze fixed on the chained gate.
"To protect the world from something that should never have been allowed to wake."
Kento took a step closer to the gate, unable to pull his eyes away from it. The chains throbbed, as if reacting to his presence. Somewhere in the darkness beyond the gate, something stirred—a soft, distant sound, like breathing.
He didn't realize he was shaking until the man placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Do not go any closer," he warned. "Not yet."
Kento turned to him. "Is… Furi behind that gate?"
The man's eyes narrowed.
"You still do not understand. Your friend is not behind that gate. Your friend is the reason the gate is waking."
The words struck Kento harder than any blade.
He took a step back, his mind reeling. "What do you mean?! Furi wouldn't— He was—"
"A child who made a promise," the man interrupted quietly. "Just like you. But sometimes… a promise can be too strong. Strong enough to bend the world around it. Strong enough… to break it."
Kento's breath caught in his throat.
For a moment, he remembered Furi's smile—bright and fearless. The kind of smile that could make even the darkest sky feel warm again.
"But… he was waiting for me."
Silence followed.
The man in black slowly withdrew his hand from Kento's shoulder and turned back toward the gate. "Yes. And perhaps… he still is. But the one waiting for you now… is no longer the same."
The chains on the gate rattled.
A single cracking sound echoed through the hall, like ancient bones awakening.
Kento's heart pounded.
He stepped back again, clutching the wooden emblem so tightly it hurt. "Then what do I do…? If Furi—if that thing—wakes up… will the world fall apart?"
The man in black didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes, as though listening to a faraway voice.
"There is a way," he said at last. "But it will cost you."
"Cost me…?"
The man nodded. "To stop a promise that has become a curse… you must offer another promise in its place. A stronger one. A promise you are willing to stake your very soul on."
Kento's mind spun with fear and confusion—but somewhere in the midst of it, he felt something else rise within him.
A quiet flame.
He looked down at the emblem again. The surface of the wood now glowed faintly, as if responding to his beating heart.
"…Then I'll do it," Kento said, voice steady. "I'll make that promise. No matter what it costs."
The man in black's eyes widened slightly—just for a moment—but there was something like relief in his expression.
"Very well, boy… Then listen carefully."
He raised his hand, and the ancient symbols carved into the pillars began to glow with ghostly light. The dried riverbed trembled, and a faint trickle of silver began to flow through its cracked channels.
"To forge a new promise, you must return to the place where your first promise was made."
Kento's eyes widened.
"The cliff… where I said I'd find him."
The man nodded. "There, and only there, can you reshape the fate that was broken. But know this—once you take that step… the gate will fully awaken. And whatever waits behind it will come for you."
Kento's pulse beat like a drum in his ears.
"I understand."
He lifted his blade. The blue light flickered to life once more—but this time, it burned brighter than before.
The man in black watched him silently… and then, for the first time, bowed his head.
"Then may the sky remember your name."
And with those words, the dried river flared with silver light, illuminating a hidden passage at the far end of the hall—a path leading back toward the surface.
Kento turned toward it, heart pounding with fear… and hope.
He took one step forward.
Toward the light.
Toward the cliff.
Toward a new promise stronger than fate itself.