The sky looked like a sheet of black cloth, wrung and twisted by some giant hand. Crimson light leaked from the cracks—like countless torn-open eyes staring down.The ground had long since lost its shape as a city. Nightmares and ruins tangled together: a half-smiling corpse dangled from a power pole, while billboards still looped public-service ads, chirping: "Stay positive, sleep well, everyone deserves a dream."
Ethan and Carl stood atop the wreckage of a collapsed overpass. Ash-laden wind spun between them. At that moment, the two looked less like survivors and more like walking corpses—yet they insisted on staging their fate as if it were some solemn drama.
"So… you knew all along you were the Nightmare Key?" Carl broke the silence, his voice rasping like a man bargaining with destiny.
Ethan laughed. But the laugh was like a slit cut into sheet metal—jagged, bleeding:"So what if I knew? A key either opens a door, or breaks a lock. Me? I'm more likely the latter."
"And what about us?" Carl's grip tightened on his cracked energy-gun. The barrel trembled—not at an enemy, but at the entire absurd world. "We walked all this way together. Don't tell me you'll fall alone at the end."
Ethan didn't answer. His fingers brushed the fragments of the Shadow Dossier in his pocket. The script on them had already twisted into squirming worms, but the conclusion was clear:The Nightmare Key would ignite humanity's final dawn.
"What are you going to do?" Carl pressed.
"I plan… to do nothing." Ethan lifted his head toward the widening eye in the sky. "Humans, governments, the Bureau, the rebels—they're all the same. Scrambling for God's throne, then ending up clowns. I just want to sit quietly and watch the curtain fall."
"That's cowardice!" Carl roared. The bridge beneath them cracked open, as if even concrete joined destiny in mockery.
"It's not cowardice. It's acceptance," Ethan murmured, as though to himself.
After a pause, Carl shoved the energy-gun into Ethan's hands—barrel aimed at himself."If you truly want to accept fate, start with me. You said we were one. Key or monster, you don't get to carry it alone."
Ethan froze. For a second, he saw a ring of absurd holiness glowing behind Carl's back. On the eve of the world's collapse, perhaps the last trace of humanity left was this illogical companionship.
"You're an idiot," Ethan whispered with a crooked smile.
"And you? Planning to be the last clever monster on earth?" Carl shot back.
The wind howled. The sky tore like a ragged curtain. Behind the crack came a rumble, as though a god was rolling over in its sleep.Their conversation sounded like two drunks mocking each other before the end of the world—yet it was the truest laughter.
Ethan suddenly grabbed the gun—But instead of pulling the trigger, he tossed it into the abyss below.
"…Fine," he sighed. "If fate wants a joke, then let's laugh with it to the end."
Carl managed a broken grin, eyes blazing with a desperate resolve.
The wind died. Silence spread.Beneath the bridge, a sea of nightmares lifted their heads, staring upward like an audience waiting for the show to begin.