The night rain fell in a steady drizzle, splashing against the cobblestones with a dense rhythm.Ethan walked alone down the street, the shadow in his heart heavier than the rain.
Countless times, he replayed the whispers from the dossier, the black mist in the shrine, and the serene faces of the villagers.All of it struck him like a hammer, smashing against the resolve he once held.
"Nightmares… are not purely enemies.Then what about us? What am I… all these years?"
He muttered under his breath, his palms growing cold.
—
At that moment, a figure emerged silently from the misty rain.A familiar silhouette, a familiar back.
Ethan's pupils constricted sharply."…You."
It was his friend—the one who had died in reality, yet repeatedly confronted him in the nightmare world.Rain slid down his friend's hair, his eyes a mix of cold unfamiliarity and suppressed anguish.
"Ethan… you've come this far."His friend spoke softly, as if recounting a conclusion already decided.
—
Ethan's throat tightened, his voice hoarse:"Why? Are you human… or a nightmare? When I saw you in the dream, were you real… or just an illusion?"
His friend stared quietly, a flicker of struggle in his eyes.Then, he slowly drew a jet-black short blade, its edge seeming to devour the surrounding light.
"Don't you understand? The assassination back then… I did it myself."
Ethan's whole body shuddered; the rain suddenly felt icy and piercing."What… what did you just say?"
—
His friend's voice carried through the rain, each word heavy as iron:"That night, I appeared by your side not to protect you, but to… push you into the Realm of Death with my own hands."
"Why!"Ethan roared, bloodshot eyes wide. "Why betray me?!"
His friend's hands trembled, the blade almost slipping from his grip, yet his gaze was full of anguish:"Because only that way… could you survive."
Ethan froze; for a moment, even the sound of the rain seemed to vanish.
—
His friend drew a deep breath, words coming in broken gasps:"The bureau had long placed you on the 'replacement list'… like livestock, who was suitable for experiments, who could be sent for trials, it was all predetermined.If I hadn't assassinated you myself, you would have been sent in a far crueler manner, possibly losing yourself forever.I had no choice… I could only let you enter the Realm of Death in another way."
Ethan's heart contracted violently.So that night's betrayal… was not cold-blooded, but salvation born from despair.
Yet he could not accept it.The scar on his chest burned, as if reminding him of that blade's reality.
"So… you made me bleed, made me hate you, all to… 'save me'?"Ethan's throat tightened, voice hoarse to the brink of collapse.
His friend lowered his head, rain masking the traces of his tears."Yes."
—
Silence.They stared at each other through the curtain of rain, time seeming frozen.
Ethan finally let out a bitter laugh:"Save me? You destroyed my entire life and now talk about salvation?"
He suddenly drew his short blade, its edge glinting cold in the rainy night."Then tell me—should I thank you now?"
His friend did not flinch. He slowly opened his arms, as if letting fate deliver its judgment.
"If you must kill me to find peace, then do it.But remember, everything I've done… was to give you a chance to see the bureau's truth."
—
The rain fell harder, soaking their clothes.Ethan's hands trembled violently; the blade hovered just a step away from his friend's throat, yet he could no longer bring himself to strike.
He looked at this betrayer—this friend—and his chest ached as if torn apart.Tears mingled with rain, blurring his vision.
"You bastard… why didn't you tell me sooner?"Ethan shouted, his voice piercing the night, starkly alone.
His friend closed his eyes, finally seeming to release the chains around his heart."Because the bureau would never allow the truth to exist.But now… you've already crossed to the other side of the fracture."
—
The wind howled, the dark night sky itself seemingly torn by this secret.Ethan's hand holding the short blade slowly fell, leaving only one thought echoing in his mind:
—That blade… was not killing, but a passage guided by fate.
He stood in the wind and rain, truly confronting his life for the first time.
And his friend's figure, blurred in the rain and mist, seemed ready to vanish at any moment.