Darkness.
Not empty.
Not quiet.
Alive.
It pressed in from every direction, thick and suffocating, like something unseen was leaning closer and closer, waiting… watching… breathing without sound.
There was no sky.
No ground.
No sense of distance.
Only him.
Arisle.
Or what remained of him.
The weight of everything that had happened didn't fade.
It didn't dull.
It looped.
Over and over—
His mother's face.
Her voice.
Her last breath.
"I love you."
The words didn't echo outward.
They echoed inside him.
Each repetition heavier than the last.
His eyes opened.
Slowly.
But nothing changed.
Still darkness.
Endless.
Unmoving.
It didn't matter how wide he forced them open.
Didn't matter how hard he tried to focus.
There was nothing to see.
"..."
He tried to breathe.
Air came—but it felt thin.
Unreal.
Like something he was only remembering instead of actually doing.
Then—
Cold.
It crept up his back first.
Then his arms.
Then his legs.
A shallow liquid surrounded him, barely covering his body as he lay flat against something smooth and unseen beneath him.
Water.
That's what his mind told him.
But something about it—
Felt wrong.
Too still.
Too heavy.
He shifted.
The movement was slow, delayed, like his body had to remember how to respond.
Ripples spread outward from him.
But they didn't travel far.
They faded too quickly.
Swallowed.
Like the darkness didn't allow anything to exist for long.
"Am I…"
His voice came out quiet.
But it didn't travel.
It didn't echo.
It just… appeared.
Inside the space around him.
Inside him.
"...dead?"
The word lingered longer than it should have.
Because it made sense.
There was no pain.
No fire.
No screaming.
No monster.
No blood.
No bodies.
Nothing.
Except—
Memory.
It slammed into him without warning.
The rubble.
The screams.
The sound of tearing flesh.
His mother.
Her eyes.
Her voice.
Her final words.
"I love you."
His chest tightened.
But not from injury.
From something deeper.
Something heavier.
Like his heart was still trying to break—
Even though it already had.
The rage followed.
Slow at first.
Then rising.
Boiling.
It spread through him like something alive, crawling through his veins, wrapping around his thoughts, squeezing tighter with every second.
That thing.
That monster.
It took everything.
And i—
Did nothing.
"...what was I supposed to do…"
His voice felt hollow.
Like it didn't belong to him.
"I had nothing…"
His fingers curled slightly beneath the surface.
"I was weak…"
The word dragged itself out slowly.
"Disgustingly weak…"
The liquid beneath him shifted.
Subtle at first.
Then—
Wrong.
The temperature dropped sharply.
The surface thickened, clinging slightly to his skin as he moved.
The ripples slowed.
Too slow.
And then—
The smell.
It came creeping in.
Faint.
Then stronger.
Metallic.
Heavy.
Unmistakable.
Arisle's body tensed.
Something deep inside him already knew.
But his mind—
Refused.
He pushed himself up suddenly.
The liquid dragged against him as he rose, resisting in a way water never would.
It stretched slightly—
Then fell back with thick, heavy drops.
His breath caught.
He looked down.
And everything inside him went still.
It wasn't water.
It was blood.
Endless.
A vast, dark ocean stretching in every direction, its surface unnaturally smooth except where he disturbed it.
It reflected nothing.
Not even him.
His hands—
They were drenched in it.
Thick layers coating his skin, seeping into the cracks of his knuckles, sliding slowly down his wrists in dark streams.
He stared at them.
Unmoving.
Then—
"...I never…"
His voice trembled.
"I never got my answer…"
His breathing quickened.
Sharp.
Uneven.
"Am I dead…?"
Silence.
"I died…"
The words felt heavier now.
More real.
"I died at fourteen…?"
"No—"
He shook his head violently.
The blood rippled unnaturally beneath him, reacting slower than it should.
"No, no—this isn't real—"
"This can't be real—!"
His voice rose—
But the darkness swallowed it instantly.
No echo.
No response.
Nothing.
Then—
Something changed.
Not around him.
Within the darkness itself.
It shifted.
Barely noticeable.
Like something had always been there—
And he was only now allowed to see it.
A figure.
Standing far away.
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
It didn't reflect in the blood.
Didn't distort the darkness.
It simply existed.
Wrong.
Arisle's breath hitched.
"Who's there…?"
His voice felt small.
Fragile.
The figure didn't move.
Didn't step forward.
Didn't turn.
It remained exactly as it was.
And yet—
It felt closer.
Like distance didn't apply to it.
Then—
It spoke.
Not through the air.
Not through sound.
It appeared.
Directly inside his mind.
Calm and Cold
"If you were granted endless power…"
Each word settled heavily, like it carried weight beyond meaning.
"Would you crown yourself as humanity's god…"
A pause.
Long.
Deliberate.
"Or would you bow beneath the weight of their expectations?"
The question didn't fade.
It lingered.
Wrapped around his thoughts.
Arisle froze.
Not because he didn't understand—
But because he did.
Too well.
Images flooded his mind.
The guards—
Broken.
Helpless.
The town—
Burning.
Dying.
His mother—
Gone.
Because no one was strong enough.
Because he wasn't strong enough.
Humanity.
What had it done?
What had it saved?
Nothing.
The answer came instantly.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Who cares about humanity?
His hands clenched slowly at his sides, blood dripping from his fingers into the endless surface below, sending out slow, heavy ripples.
"I don't care about humanity."
His voice was steadier now.
Darker.
"I don't care about being a god."
The darkness seemed to press closer.
Listening.
Watching.
"All I want…"
His voice lowered.
Something dangerous forming beneath it.
"I want to kill it."
The blood around him stirred slightly.
Not from movement.
From something else.
"If you can help me do that…"
His eyes locked onto the figure.
Burning now—
Not with fear.
But with something colder.
Something sharper.
"Then do it."
A pause.
Heavy.
Final.
"...if not…"
His voice dropped into something almost empty.
"Stop asking stupid questions."
Silence followed.
But it wasn't empty.
It watched.
Judged.
Measured.
And somewhere deep within that endless darkness—
Something shifted.
As if a decision—
Had just been made.