Yuki's fingers tightened further around Lane's wrist.
In the darkness, Yuki's eyes gleamed like embers.
Lane didn't try to pull his wrist away.
Instead, he looked at Yuki's face with great innocence.
"Why are you holding me like this, Yuki-bhaiya?"
Lane's whisper was so faint that even the sound of the sleeping Luka's breathing seemed louder.
"You were going outside," Yuki said, gritting his teeth.
His voice held a mix of bitterness and fear.
"You just promised Luka that you'd sit right here."
"Not even a moment has passed, and you're already breaking your word?"
A faint, mysterious smile drifted across Lane's lips.
He turned his gaze toward the open entrance, where the grey field stretched out beyond.
"No Yuki-bhaiya, I wasn't going anywhere," Lane said softly.
Tilting his head slightly as if trying to catch a sound.
"I just... heard a voice. I was only listening to it."
A cold shiver ran down Yuki's spine.
He tried to pierce through the silence outside, but there was nothing but the rustle of the wind.
"What voice? There's no one outside."
"Someone is calling my name, Yuki-bhaiya," Lane's eyes suddenly became fixed.
As if he were in this room yet not truly there.
"Very softly... someone is saying 'Lane.'"
"That voice is coming from right there, from across that field."
Yuki abruptly let go of Lane's hand and took a step back.
He couldn't tell if this small child was lying.
Or if he truly heard something that no one else's ears could reach.
The normal light outside now began to feel terrifying to Yuki.
Lane tilted his head even further.
As if trying to squeeze that voice out of the gusts of wind.
"Bhaiya... did you really not hear anything?"
"It was very faint, but it was clear."
Yuki's throat began to go dry.
He clenched his fists so that Lane wouldn't see the trembling of his hands.
Suppressing his nervousness beneath a deep breath, he whispered.
"Maybe it's just your imagination. That happens when you're tired."
Yuki gave him a gentle nudge back.
"Go back and sit by Luka. If he wakes up and doesn't find you there, he'll be worried."
Lane didn't budge from his spot.
His eyes were still fixed on the empty field.
"No... I heard the voice. It's calling me."
A cold bead of sweat appeared on Yuki's forehead.
He didn't want to talk about that mysterious voice anymore.
He feared that if he heard more, he might lose trust in his own eyes and ears.
"Fine, whatever you heard, tell Luka when he wakes up," Yuki said quickly.
As if wanting to bury this conversation right here.
"But for now, go back to your place."
Lane took one last look at the light outside and then, without a word, turned silently.
His small steps moved back toward the wooden plank where Luka lay sleeping, unaware.
Yuki remained standing there, trying to calm his racing heart.
Staring at the empty field outside with a new sense of dread.
Yuki walked back to his corner with heavy steps.
As he sat on the wooden plank, he closed his eyes.
But the roar of questions inside his mind did not cease.
His hand instinctively touched the spot where he had crushed Lane's wound earlier.
His attention shifted to Lane.
Lane had just walked back to Luka—without any hesitation, without any groan.
Disbelief clouded Yuki's eyes.
How was that wound, which had forced Lane to scream at Luka's slightest touch, now completely ineffective?
The way Lane walked, as if there wasn't even a scratch on his foot, was beyond Yuki's comprehension.
It seemed as if Lane had entirely forgotten that his foot was bloodied.
This dual behavior of pain began to breed fear in Yuki's mind.
Was this some kind of act by Lane?
Or was Lane's body designed to 'feel' only Luka's touch?
Yuki clenched his fists.
He stared at Lane's face in the dark, which had now returned to being calm and innocent.
That strange selectivity of pain was nothing less than a terrifying riddle to Yuki.
Yuki's gaze landed on Aya, who was huddled in the corner.
She was fast asleep, oblivious to the world.
Looking at her, a pang of sympathy shot through Yuki—
After all, she was just a little girl whom this darkness had forced to grow up too soon.
His attention shifted to the other corners of the room.
In this suffocating place, besides the four of them—Yuki, Luka, Lane, and Aya—there were three other children.
They didn't seem like children, but more like stone statues.
Since the moment they were brought here, not a single word had escaped their lips.
Yuki slowly climbed down from the plank and approached them.
One of the boys was nearly the same height and build as Yuki.
Looking almost like a peer.
But the light in his eyes had long gone out.
The other two were quite small, sitting lifelessly with their heads tucked into their knees.
They moved only to eat and then vanished back into that same numbness.
Yuki knelt before the two small children, making his voice as gentle as possible.
"You two... why are you sitting so silently like this?"
The children slowly raised their heads.
The terror in their eyes pierced Yuki's heart.
One of them whispered with trembling lips.
"If we make any noise... we will be punished."
That whisper hit the walls of the room and died out.
Yuki realized that there weren't just iron chains here.
But an invisible wall of fear that had swallowed even the screams of these children.
Yuki noticed the children's trembling.
"Why are you saying that? No one is watching you here."
But the little ones offered no answer.
They tucked their heads back into their knees, as if silence were their only shield.
Giving up, Yuki turned toward the boy of his own age, who still sat as still as a stone.
"And you? You've been rooted here for so long."
"Since we arrived, you haven't taken a single step out of this corner. Why is that?"
The boy looked at Yuki with stony eyes, but his lips did not move.
"Why are these children so terrified?" Yuki questioned again.
A sense of restlessness now in his voice.
The boy took a long breath, as if peering into a dark well of memories.
"In the previous dungeon... when they were crying, the guards beat them mercilessly."
His voice was flat, devoid of any remaining emotion.
"They held the edge of their swords against their throats."
"And said if a single sound escaped their necks, they would end them right there."
The chill of that sword still lives in their souls.
Yuki's fists clenched.
Images of the guards' cruelty flickered before his eyes.
He looked closely at the boy's face, which held a strange maturity.
"What is your name?" Yuki asked.
A sudden bitterness and distance appeared in the boy's gaze.
He turned his face away.
"I am not telling my name to anyone," he replied bluntly.
"Names mean nothing here. We are all just here to perish."
His flat refusal hit Yuki like a wall.
In that dark room, between Lane's mysterious calling and the terrifying silence of these children, Yuki felt even more alone.