The mountains stretched endlessly beneath the bruised purple sky, a place where the clouds brushed the jagged peaks and the cold air sang like glass. Every step along the rocky trail echoed softly, carrying through the silence of the Realm.
Riku led the way, his Soulbound Blade strapped to his back, the Relic of Wrath pulsing faintly beneath his coat. The faint crimson glow along the seams of his gloves made him uneasy — a reminder that even power came at a price.
Behind him, Mina trudged carefully, her staff glowing with soft, silver light to guide their way. Ren followed, his heavy boots crunching gravel, and Arin brought up the rear, eyes scanning the shadows like a hawk.
No one spoke for a long while. The only sound was wind — and somewhere far below, the low, hollow moan of something ancient shifting in the deep valleys.
It was Arin who broke the silence first.
"You know," she said quietly, "I forgot what it felt like to be cold. When I first came here, everything burned — even the air. Now, it's just… empty."
Riku slowed his pace. "How long have you been here, Arin?"
Arin hesitated, her eyes distant. "A long time. Maybe years. Maybe centuries. It's hard to tell in a place where the sun never rises the same way twice."
Mina glanced at her. "You said before you used to protect people — at a shrine?"
A small smile tugged at Arin's lips. "Yeah. My village believed the gods spoke through the wind. I was chosen to protect the shrine from intruders. But when soldiers came… I failed them."
Her voice cracked for the first time. "They burned everything. I tried to fight back. I thought if I could protect even one soul, the gods would forgive me. But when I woke up here…"
She trailed off. The wind filled the pause.
Ren scratched the back of his head. "Well," he said softly, "you did better than most. I was supposed to be some kind of martial arts instructor. Always told my students to stay calm, stay focused. Then a fire broke out during practice one day. I tried to get everyone out, but… I couldn't save them all."
He looked at his calloused hands. "When I woke up here, I thought this was hell. Maybe it is."
Mina's steps slowed. "You tried to save them, Ren. That has to mean something."
"Maybe," he said, forcing a grin. "Or maybe I'm just a ghost who talks too much."
Riku smiled faintly, but the conversation left a weight in the air. Everyone here carried regrets — scars from another life.
"What about you, Mina?" Arin asked.
Mina stopped. The light from her staff flickered, like her memories themselves wavered. "I… remember a boy. My little brother. We lived near the coast — my parents were fishermen. One day, a storm hit, and he fell into the water. I jumped in after him. The current was too strong."
Her voice trembled. "The last thing I remember was seeing him smile before the waves swallowed me."
The group fell silent again. Even Ren didn't have a joke this time.
Riku clenched his fists. "You all tried to save someone. That's… different from me. I just ran."
They looked at him — waiting.
He exhaled. "I used to get bullied a lot. Daichi Moro — you all saw him back there. He made my life miserable. My parents pushed me to fight, to defend myself. But the day I finally got the courage to fight back…" He stared into the mist ahead. "I hesitated. I froze. I got hit by a bus before I ever got to prove myself. I didn't die saving anyone. I just died being scared."
Mina reached out, gently touching his arm. "You're not that boy anymore, Riku."
He smiled, small and sincere. "I'm trying not to be."
They continued walking, the trail narrowing into a cliffside ledge. The view was vast — the valley below shimmered with pale blue lights, like rivers of souls winding between the mountains.
"Beautiful," Mina whispered.
Ren nodded. "Almost makes you forget this place is crawling with death."
Then, suddenly, Arin stopped. Her eyes darted to the side of the path, narrowing at something etched into the stone wall.
"Wait," she said. "Look here."
They gathered around. The carvings were faint but familiar — runes similar to the ones in the dragon's temple.
"It's another mural," Riku said.
Mina brushed off the dust, revealing faded inscriptions of figures kneeling before a glowing fountain.
"The Fountain of Return," she breathed. "It's real."
Ren whistled. "Guess the old legends weren't lying after all."
But beneath the mural, the text continued — darker, written in a language older than even Arin recognized. The stone glowed faintly as Riku's hand brushed it.
The words shifted in his mind:
"Beware the Despair that guards the Gate. For in wrath, even the purest soul may drown."
His chest tightened. The Relic of Wrath pulsed once, almost like it had heard the warning.
Ren noticed. "Your relic acting up again?"
"Yeah," Riku muttered. "Feels like it's… listening."
"Good," Ren said. "Maybe it can tell us where not to go next."
They laughed — briefly, softly. The sound was fragile against the vast emptiness.
Then Arin looked up at the sky, her voice low. "You know what scares me the most?" she said. "Not dying again. But forgetting. Forgetting the people I once loved. Their faces, their names."
Mina smiled sadly. "Maybe when we find the Fountain… we'll remember everything again."
Ren chuckled. "If I remember everything, I'll probably just start drinking again."
They all laughed — even Arin this time. It wasn't joy, but it was human.
Then, the laughter faded as the wind shifted — colder now, carrying a sound like distant metal scraping stone.
Riku froze. "Did anyone else hear that?"
From somewhere in the valley below, a faint, rhythmic thud echoed — like footsteps. Each one heavier than the last. The ground trembled.
Mina's staff flickered uneasily. "Something's coming."
Ren's hand went to his sword. "Please tell me it's just another dragon. I liked dragons."
Arin's eyes narrowed. "No. This feels different."
Riku turned toward the horizon, where the mist began to part. A distant glow pulsed red, spreading like a heartbeat across the mountainside.
He swallowed hard.
"That's not a dragon," he said quietly. "That's him."
"The General of Despair…" Arin whispered.
The air turned heavy. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Riku glanced back at his friends — his family now, in all the ways that mattered. The same ache filled his chest that always came before something irreversible.
Ren caught his eye and grinned. "Well, kid. Guess storytime's over."
Mina raised her staff. "Then let's make this one count."
As they stepped forward, the crimson light ahead swelled — a monstrous shadow rising within it, wings unfurling like night itself.
And somewhere deep in Riku's mind, that voice returned.
"You've climbed far enough, little souls. Now drown in despair."
The mountain shook, the world screamed — and the light consumed them all.