Cuhlun froze at the sight before him.
The spider, however, simply smiled.
The two stared at each other for a while.
The one who broke the silence was the spider. It raised an arm and tried to stab Cuhlun straight through the heart.
Cuhlun dodged on pure instinct. Yes, he avoided a fatal hit—but he hadn't avoided being struck.The spider's arm drove straight into his right leg.
The searing pain shot through him. Cuhlun snatched his dagger back into his left hand and swung it fiercely at the spider's neck.
But the dagger wasn't strong enough to cut it. It didn't even scratch its skin—just knocked the spider back a few steps.
Cuhlun's leg was wounded and bleeding, and no matter where he ran, the spider would definitely find him.
He had to take the risk he once refused.
Cuhlun sprinted back the way he had come. The spider shot several strands of web to trip him, and even though some stuck to him, Cuhlun refused to fall—forcing his body forward with sheer will.
Finally, he reached the area where the dead flies lay scattered. He dove into one of the glowing puddles and swam downward.
This puddle, from the very beginning, had always been more than it appeared—it opened into an underwater cave leading deep toward the seabed. Cuhlun had never been proud of his breath-holding ability, because he was terrible at it. Like any normal human, he could only hold breath for about a minute.His only chance of surviving was to find a pocket of air within that one minute. A passage leading somewhere else.
Cuhlun prayed internally as his breath burned away second by second. He didn't turn back—he knew the spider was waiting behind him.
So he just swam.
But he didn't find any air.
Instead, he found the vast ocean floor. Above him, a massive region of swirling mist blotted out the sunlight and cast the deep waters into complete darkness.
Cuhlun became certain he was going to die. His breath was gone, the water offered no air, and worst of all—dozens of leviathans swam nearby, ready to devour his corpse… and fight over it.
As drowning overtook him and his consciousness faded, he drifted into sleep.
Maybe forever, maybe only for a miserable moment—but it was sleep. And while asleep, he could still use his Avenor ability.
Cuhlun entered the mind eater's consciousness.
World 774 looked the same as before. A medieval land with a towering castle.
This was where the mind eater had come from.All its memories and past were here.Itself—and all its selves—were here.
At first glance, it looked like a peaceful world. But for Cuhlun, this was his least favorite memory realm.
Because within these medieval houses, every single inhabitant was the mind eater.
Every one of them. Without exception.
It might seem illogical, but in truth, it made perfect sense.
Every time the mind eater killed someone in a memory realm, a new mind eater was added to its own memory world. Those mind eaters then entered other living beings the original could perceive—and killed them in the memory realm as well.Meaning: with every kill, the number of bodies the mind eater could simultaneously enter increased.Cuhlun's weaknesses—being unable to fight multiple people at once, and being vulnerable while asleep—did not apply to the mind eater at all.
So every mind eater here was real, carrying a shard of actual existence just like Cuhlun.Which made this memory world the closest to reality.And the hardest for Cuhlun to influence.
Not that he came here to conquer it.He just wanted to spend his last moments in a place where he could breathe—figuratively.The mind eater, despite being an "enemy," was at least someone Cuhlun could talk to.
That's why he didn't choose the spider's realm, or the strange leviathan he'd seen earlier.He chose the mind eater's world—somewhere he could die with a little peace.
Cuhlun walked for a while and entered a small house. Inside, a mind eater greeted him.
"Why are you here? You're not planning to take control, are you?"
Cuhlun yawned."No such plan, don't worry… just let me relax for a bit."
Then Cuhlun stepped into a painting.
Even though the mind eater's realm was stable, it was still part of the dreamworld.
Inside the painting, Cuhlun lay back on a wide green hill, relaxing as he ate crispy chicken wings—his favorite food from before the apocalypse. Whenever he had time in the dream realm, he'd always come back to taste them again.
The green mound, the peace of having no battle, the warmth in the air—it was the sort of place Cuhlun could stay for years. It reflected his true desire, his ultimate wish: peace.
Still, he wasn't stupid enough to fall for false peace.
He'd rather die than cling desperately to something hollow.
Cuhlun canceled his Avenor ability.
He expected to die.
But he didn't.
When he woke up, he found himself in a cave with air—dragged there by a humanoid sea creature.
It was the same creature he had encountered in the spider's memory realm—the strange, weak, human-shaped being that had approached the light and the little air bubble he'd created.Perhaps it hadn't come because of the light… but because Cuhlun was human.And now, in the real world, it had done the same—because he was humanoid and intelligent, it had saved him.
He didn't know for sure, but one thing was obvious:
Cuhlun had escaped death by a hair.
He had been saved.