He thought back to his pitiful life in Gorra.
Born into that city, never once given a real chance to escape it. Without his sister, he would've been dead long ago—or worse, one of those sick men he used to despise.
If he could see her again, he'd first apologize… and then thank her.
(Not that it matters anymore…) he thought, resigned.
The entrance was wide enough now.
He heard the sharp clatter of claws scraping against stone as the creature forced its way inside.
Levin's brows knit together, his jaw grinding.
(No. It can't end like this. I won't waste the chance you gave me!)
His eyes snapped open.
The spider creature's grotesque mandibles almost looked like they were smiling. One of its legs—tipped with a silver claw—rose slowly into the air. Levin saw the motion as if time itself had slowed. But between what his mind registered and what his body could do lay an unbridgeable gap.
(Move! Jump! Do something!)
Death was hard to accept. Life was a curse.
And deep inside, Levin wished for nothing more than to lie in a dark room—warm, small, and safe. It was an instinctive, uncontrollable wish.
And suddenly, Levin was gone.
The spider's claw struck only emptiness.
Levin found himself suspended in a sea of darkness.
Unlike before, he wasn't resting on it—he was inside it.
He couldn't breathe. Couldn't see.
A suffocating weakness crept through him, as if his very life was being drained away.
He spun aimlessly through the void, carried by invisible currents.
This wasn't the comforting darkness he remembered.
He clutched his mouth and opened his eyes wide in panic. Only when his lungs burned for air did his body instinctively resurface.
He landed on all fours, coughing violently. When his lungs finally remembered how to breathe, he looked up. Something black loomed above him—the cliff.
(Wait. I'm… under the spider.)
His face twisted. Summoning the last of his strength, he threw himself forward—out of the cave.
Almost at the same moment, the spider crashed its weight down where he'd just been, missing him by inches. The impact shattered the ledge.
Rock and monster tumbled into the abyss together.
Levin was falling—hundreds of meters above the glowing red forest.
He closed his eyes and folded his hands with a faint smile.
(Guess that's it, then… Fought well, warrior.)
But he never hit the ground.
Something grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upward.
It was a woman.
(I'm saved!) Levin's eyes went wide.
The woman held him effortlessly with one hand; in the other, she gripped a long, curved blade.
Above them, the falling spider turned all six legs toward her. Levin opened his mouth to warn her—but when he saw her calm, focused face, he knew it was pointless.
In a single, fluid motion, she redirected the monster's attack, let her blade slide upward, and sliced clean through one of its mandibles.
The spider crashed into the forest below with a deafening roar.
Moments later, Levin and the woman landed lightly a few meters away.
Two chunks of falling stone hurtled toward them.
She cleaved the first one apart without even looking.
The second aimed straight for Levin's head.
Her expression didn't change. She simply let go.
Levin dropped to the ground as the boulder screamed past his face by a hair's breadth.
He swallowed hard.
(Can't even protect me properly, can you, lady?) he thought bitterly, despite her having just saved his life.
The spider was still alive, dragging its massive body from the rubble, shrieking in fury.
The woman's eyes narrowed. She bit her thumb until blood welled up and smeared it along both sides of her blade. Instantly, the blood began to hiss and boil—then burst into flame.
Steam rose from the metal.
Levin watched, transfixed.
The spider lunged again, blind to the danger.
The woman waited, motionless, until the monster was almost upon her. Then—two swift strikes. One upward diagonal, one horizontal return.
In the next heartbeat, the spider's body fell apart in four clean sections. The cut surfaces still glowed faintly red.
The flames on her sword flickered out.
The wind caught her crimson hair as her sharp, equally red eyes fixed on Levin.
She sheathed her sword and stepped closer.
Levin blinked, still stunned. This woman, her power… it was proof beyond doubt.
He wasn't on Terra anymore.
He hid his awe behind a composed expression.
"Who are you?" she asked directly.
Levin had to tread carefully. Any word could be used against him.
"My name's Levin," he said, hand over his chest. "And you, my lady?"
She studied him for a moment—then burst out laughing.
"My lady, huh? You've got a good eye, kid."
Levin exhaled quietly. She was his only lead in this world.
"This place will do," the woman said, glancing around. "I'll make camp here. You should stay with me."
Her gaze was direct. Her smile seemed genuine, but Levin wasn't fooled.
He nodded right away. "That was my plan. Can't survive out here alone.
If you'll allow it, of course."
She shrugged, fetched a gray, dirt-stained robe from a nearby cart, and tossed it to him.
"Put something on before you freeze."
"Gladly," Levin said. "Was about to turn into an icicle."
While gathering firewood, he watched her return to the spider's carcass and cut something from its body. For a brief moment, something violet flickered in her hand before she stored it in the cart.
Later, they sat by the crackling fire.
The moons bathed them in pale light, reflecting in the ember-red eyes of the woman across from him—Iris.
"How did you survive that?" she asked, looking up from the spider meat she was carving.
Levin stiffened.
"The spider probably noticed there's not much meat on me," he said weakly.
The air grew colder.
"You think I'm an idiot?" Iris said flatly.
"For both our sakes, be honest. Your life depends on me."
Levin gave a strained smile.
"I managed to escape. I'm not sure how… I just—sank into the ground."
"I see." Iris nodded slightly. "What was the last thing you remember before waking up here?"
(Does she know I'm not from this world?) Levin wondered.
He needed to let go of his old sense of reality.
"The last thing I remember," he said slowly, his blue eyes drifting toward the moons, "was how beautiful the darkness can be."
"Hmm. That makes sense," Iris said. "That's your ability."
She pricked her finger with a twig. A drop of blood fell onto her palm—and ignited into a small flame.
"That's mine."
Levin nodded. It dawned on him that these powers came at a cost.
Iris had to bleed.
He had to sink into cold, disorienting darkness.
Then he felt it again—a tingling down his neck, the hair on his arms rising.
"Well, not bad, kid," Iris said with a smirk, nodding to the side.
From the forest shadows emerged a small, pitch-black figure—barely the size of an infant.
From its right forearm jutted a blade of iron.
Levin shot to his feet. Iris tossed him the knife she'd used on the meat.
"You can handle this one. Perfect chance to show me your ability, right?"
She leaned back lazily against a log. "Oh, and good lu—"
The little creature darted forward, aiming straight for Levin's throat.
Levin swung the knife on instinct. Sparks burst as metal clashed.
(But this time it's different… Now I have power.)
Here, he wasn't prey. He was the weapon.
The creature lunged again.
This time, Levin dodged at the last instant and caught its blade barehanded. Steel pierced his palm. He hissed—but his mouth twisted into a mad grin.
The creature was stuck.
With a powerful sweep of his right arm, Levin cut through its limb—and its head.
Blue fluid splattered across his face. It smelled like crushed ladybugs.
(Better than real blood, I guess.)
The body hit the ground.
Levin stared at it, breathless.
(I want to live—so I'll kill what tries to take that from me. Simple.)
His trance broke when Iris stood and walked toward him.
"That thing never stood a chance," he gasped.
She didn't answer.
Her eyes were locked on him. Slowly, she drew her sword.
"What are you doing?" Levin asked cautiously, raising the bloodied knife.
Her gaze was firm. The hair on his neck rose again.
The danger was her now.
One mistake meant death.
(There's only one way out.)
She closed the distance—then vanished.
A breath later, she was beside him, her sword slicing toward his throat.
Levin ducked and raised the knife. The impact was lighter than expected—as if she'd hesitated. Still, the force sent the knife flying.
He fell forward—
—but instead of hitting the ground, he sank into his own shadow, cast by the fire.
Iris halted mid-swing, staring at the empty spot.
A faint smile curved her lips as she heard a soft cough echo from the dark between the trees.
She turned.
Levin's silhouette was rising out of the shadows.