I felt myself falling fast into an endless depth.
The wind slashed against my face like invisible blades, ripping away my breath, devouring every scream I never uttered. The void wrapped me in its brutal silence, and yet, within that abyss, everything was noise: the echo of my ragged breathing, the desperate pounding of my heart, the dull roar of the earth itself, widening endlessly to swallow me whole.
I fell, and fell... there was no end to it.
My limp arms wouldn't respond, my legs were nothing but dead weight. My body, shattered, resembled more a corpse than a warrior. And as I descended through that endless tunnel, the rocky walls rushed by like swift shadows, reminding me that I was still alive—if only to suffer.
My wounds closed slowly, healing through the faint inertia of the power that lingered within me. The burning in every fiber was unbearable, as if live embers were burrowing into my flesh, scorching me from the inside. The pain was so vast I could hardly tell where it began or ended. Yet even so, the most terrifying thing wasn't the agony—it was the paralysis. I couldn't move a single finger. Not one.
No energy.
No magic.
Completely drained.
A lump of flesh stripped of will.
Then, I heard a voice inside my mind.
At first, it was only a whisper—a distant murmur carried by the unseen currents of the abyss. I went still, desperately trying to recognize it. Whose voice could it be?
Could it be that woman I heard when I fought the angel?
No... it wasn't her. The essence was different.
This voice was male—deep, firm, edged with something that froze the blood.
I asked the question silently, and then the voice answered:
—Hey... where are Mom and Dad? Tell me.
My pupils widened in the dark. That echo struck my mind like a hammer.
Mom… Dad?
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't remember anyone I could call that. The words felt hollow, alien—like names of ghosts I'd never known.
I tried digging through my memory, clawing at some forgotten corner of my being. Any image, any spark. A smile, a face, a voice... something. But nothing. The void replied with cruel silence.
Ever since I awoke in that dark place, I've had no memories of before.
No childhood. No home. No origin.
Could it be that I lost my memory? —I asked myself, desperate.
The voice spoke again, sharper this time, like a knife slicing into my skull:
—Don't you remember Mom and Dad? Why did you forget them? You swore you never would.
Have you also forgotten your promises?
Answer me—do you even know who you are anymore?
I swallowed hard. My chest heaved. Rage and fear tangled inside me.
—I'm sorry... I'm sorry... but I forgot everything! Absolutely everything!
I have no memories of my past.
I have no memories of anything...!
If only I knew who I am!
My scream echoed through the darkness, and then faded.
The voice, however, didn't waver—it replied with chilling calm:
—The answer lies within you.
You know who you are, and all that you've endured.
What happened a hundred years ago is the scar you've been trying to erase—the one you refuse to remember.
But you must remember. Only then can you keep fighting.
Your determination… it comes from the past.
My insides twisted with confusion. A hundred years? What did that mean? What the hell was he talking about?
—Tell me! —I shouted, throat torn—. Tell me who I am!
A heavy silence followed, as if the entire world held its breath.
Then the voice spoke one last time:
—It's in your mind.
Search carefully, and listen to Vitae.
She is the key.
Listen to your heart, and you'll know the truth:
how this massacre began, the secrets of the universe, and everything around you...
because you are the—
But right then, a piercing pain shot through my head like lightning.
A choked scream died in my throat, and my eyes snapped open.
I awoke.
The first thing I saw was the dimness of a damp cave, faintly lit by dying embers. The smell of iron and wet earth filled the air. The air itself was heavy, thick with the dust of the rift. And there they were—my brothers—beside me, watching in silence that spoke louder than any words.
They were all there... except Iko.
He was nowhere to be found.
The emptiness his absence left hurt more than my wounds. Something inside me crumbled as I understood.
I tried to stand, but my legs refused me.
I collapsed instantly, my body refusing every command.
My brothers rushed forward before my head hit the ground. Their trembling hands lifted me gently and leaned me against the cave wall. I felt their warmth, their strain, their fear disguised as calm.
"Rest a little longer," they said.
But I couldn't rest. Not while Iko was gone. Not while the fate of our kind hung by such a fragile thread.
Then Daichi stepped forward.
His shadow fell over me, and in his face I saw more than exhaustion—there was fear, yes… but also guilt. He sat beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. It trembled. I couldn't tell if from pain, fear... or that guilt eating him alive.
—Easy —he said softly, voice nearly breaking—. Don't get up yet. Stay sitting for a bit.
We'll go look for Iko. Maybe he's waiting for us with the king up there.
I figure it'll take us about twelve hours to climb out of this rift, so... just rest, okay?
If I have to... I'll carry you myself.
He avoided my eyes. He didn't want me to see the truth hiding behind them.
I barely managed to mumble a response:
—Alright, brother. I'll just... sleep a bit more.
I'm still out of magic. Can't move well.
My whole body hurts... haha... damn it... we got careless.
We didn't fight with everything we had. We're a bunch of damned fools...
My words fell heavy in the air, like stones cast into a dead lake.
I couldn't accept what had happened.
We had lost.
And while we were trapped down here, in this cursed rift...
the citizens of the human kingdom...
were probably all dead already.
Despair crushed my chest.
I tried to rise again—
but my body betrayed me.
I fell once more.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp blow struck my neck.
I didn't see where it came from. Didn't see who did it.
Only the impact—solid, brutal.
Everything went black.
A total silence enveloped me—different from the abyss's void.
This was the silence of forced sleep, of unconsciousness dragging me into a darkness even deeper.