Barry kept switching his consciousness between his main body and his benevolent avatar.
He was getting used to flipping between different perspectives.
He tirelessly explored the invisible connection between the two, preparing as much as possible for his journey outward.
Barry believed that this benevolent avatar, created at such a high cost, must have something extraordinary about it—something hidden deep within.
The strawman, only the size of a palm, had a tiny body but held immense potential.
Of course, he wasn't planning to tap into that potential just yet. At least, not now.
Occasionally, he'd return to the hospital room to check on Alessa. Observing closely, Barry noticed subtle changes in her skin. Her body, once kept alive by dark forces after being burned, was now slowly regaining vitality, bit by bit.
Barry sighed to himself, Jason, you've done every bad thing in the book, but now you're indirectly doing something good. Guess that's earning you some karma points.
He figured if Jason knew, their next meeting would be a heated one—probably with an axe swung his way.
No big deal, though. Barry was sure they'd cross paths eventually.
When that time came, it'd be a fiery exchange—rip off the mask and give him a good smack in the face.
During the day, in the surface world of Silent Hill.
Barry tossed the little strawman across the bridge. With a shift in space, the strawman arrived in the real-world Silent Hill.
He prepared to transfer his consciousness.
Zzt! Zzt!
A sound like electric static buzzed in his mind, and the connection abruptly cut off.
His vision snapped back to the surface world of Silent Hill.
After a while, Barry channeled the dark energy within him, sharpening his senses. Slowly, the invisible connection reestablished, though the signal was weak and lagged.
Still, it was a success.
The little strawman stood motionless, frozen in place.
Barry understood why: the benevolent avatar was too weak. When separated across different dimensions, switching consciousness became sluggish.
The solution was simple—make the strawman stronger. Once it could resonate with his main body, the connection would flow smoothly.
"World, your boy Barry is back!"
Raising his chibi-sized head, Barry lifted his tiny arms, basking in the blood-red glow of the sunset.
In that moment, he felt genuine warmth—unlike the cold, lifeless light of Silent Hill.
Right now, Barry felt truly alive.
"Time to hit the road."
He glanced back at the real-world Silent Hill, still shrouded in coal smoke, embers smoldering.
All alone, Barry set off on his new journey.
In the surface world, his main body entered a standby mode.
Silent Hill finally entered a period of calm.
…
Night fell.
Stars dotted the sky, surrounding a bright, pristine moon, together painting the world below.
Step by step, Barry trudged along the highway, heading away from Silent Hill.
On the desolate road, the little strawman waddled with his short legs, bound for where he was meant to go.
Sure, he already had his promised land in Silent Hill—a place where he had a house, a ride, and even some lackeys. Not bad for a guy like him.
But he was young, in his prime, ready to take on the big, wide world and carve out his own territory.
Even without his trusty dark powers and stuck in this toy-sized body, Barry had no regrets. He knew everything he'd lost would come back to him in time.
This benevolent avatar had a solid foundation. Everything his main body had, this one had too—it was just dormant, like a seed waiting to sprout.
For now, this early stage of growth was just a bit of rough weather.
After walking a long stretch, Barry felt like his tiny feet were worn down to stubs. Finally, he reached a fork in the road.
He scurried to the other path, stood in the middle of the highway, and waited.
Relying on his little legs alone, it'd take forever to reach a bustling city.
So, Barry decided to hitch a ride to a crowded place, then figure out how to boost his strength from there.
Who'd be the lucky driver to give him a lift?
Come on!
Barry eagerly awaited the glow of headlights.
The cold mountain breeze rustled the trees, and the only sound was the occasional caw of a night bird.
Bored and exhausted from waiting, Barry lay down on the asphalt, staring up at the night sky.
Before long, he drifted into a hazy sleep.
Rumble, rumble, rumble!
The sound of an engine roared from the mountain road.
Blinding headlights snapped Barry awake.
His eyes shot open, met by dazzling white light and the heavy shadow of a vehicle barreling toward him.
"Holy crap! It's a freaking semi-truck!"
Too late to react, the truck rolled right over him.
For the first time, Barry was flattened.
Stuck to the wheel, he spun along, heading toward an unknown destination.
The truck jostled and swayed.
Barry's head spun like a blender, his vision a blurry whirl of motion.
Crushed flat as a pancake, he was practically a paper cutout.
But luck was on his side. His efforts weren't in vain. He heard the truck's horn blaring and the chatter of people in the distance.
By now, it was nearing evening the next day.
The truck reached its destination.
The wheels finally stopped.
Stuck to the exposed tire was a flattened straw pancake—Barry.
Despite the rough ride, he'd held on.
With every ounce of strength, Barry peeled himself off the tire, bit by bit.
About half an hour later, night had fully settled over the city.
Neon lights flashed in vibrant colors.
At last, Barry detached completely, sliding to the ground and standing upright.
He grimaced, catching his reflection in the truck's mirror. His face fell—tire tracks were etched deep into his body from head to toe.
What the hell!
Dragging his tattered body, Barry shuffled forward, step by step.
He needed some pure negative energy or dark emotions to catch his breath.
It was winter in the outside world.
Snowflakes drifted down, piling up on the ground.
Barry, dusted white with snow, stuck to the shadows as he moved.
Passing a landscaped strip, he heard rustling from the bushes. He paused, creeping closer quietly.
A squeak and a whimper later, a rat met its end in the winter night.
Hidden by the foliage, Barry's arm plunged into the rat's heart. Its blood was absorbed by his roots, and his flattened straw body slowly puffed back up.
Thanks for the delivery, little rat. Thank you, Mother Nature. Amen.
After taking out the rat, Barry regained some of his strength.
Instead of moving on, he stayed in the bushes, lurking in the shadows, watching passersby.
His body blocked a small burrow, waiting for the next rat to poke its head out.
If nothing showed up, he'd move again when the night grew quiet.
"Squeak, squeak!"
Oh, another rat popped up.
Tonight was turning out pretty lucky.
Barry's mood lifted, ready to show the next daring rat who's boss.
Man, that smells good.
A whiff of something potent drifted by.
Barry whipped around, peering through the gaps in the leaves. His gaze locked onto two women passing by, his eyes glinting with a strange intensity.