At the edge of the circle, Yuna stood still, detached like a ghost unnoticed in the surging tide of conflict. She didn't speak, didn't breathe heavily, didn't move, only let her eyes follow Ren's every motion.
Each accusation from Lind was like a claw tearing through....not only wounding Ren, but cutting deep into her as well.
Not through sound, but through weight. Every word, every invisible cut made her chest tighten, made it hard to breathe.
Wind swept through the cracks in the stone, cold and damp, tangling strands of her long hair matted with sweat, blood, and ash, as if trying to strip away even the memories buried deep in silence.
With each gust of wind, Yuna felt smaller, more exposed before truths no one dared to say aloud.
She bit her lip. Hard. Until blood welled up, salty on her tongue, to stay grounded, to keep herself from blurting out something she'd regret.
Memories returned like a trap...tight, merciless.
She remembered the first time they met. Ren didn't say much, but his eyes...those eyes were the only thing that kept her from collapsing.
She and Nautilus, weak and lost, had been pulled up by his outstretched hand. He taught her how to keep balance with a sword, how to take a hit without fear.
He had stood in front of them when monsters came, taking the blows instead of retreating.
Those moments, however brief, were her mental anchor to keep moving forward.
But then…
She couldn't erase that moment in the mines. When Ren walked away. Didn't look back. Didn't explain. No gaze, no words of reassurance. Just the screams and panic of those left behind.
Ren's eyes back then… hauntingly beautiful, but void of feeling, still etched into her mind like a scar that never healed.
She had seen everything. And she had stayed silent.
From that day on, she never dared to ask. She didn't want to uncover anything that could destroy the image of the person who had once been her pillar.
She chose to believe. But now, Lind, with that cold voice, with arguments hard to refute...had spoken aloud every doubt she had tried so hard to deny.
Yuna wanted to step forward, to say something, to be the one standing in front of Ren for once, just like he had done for her.
But her legs wouldn't listen. They felt as though they were nailed to the cold ground, stiff like a tree root that couldn't be moved.
The fear… had no name, no form, only a thick fog inside her chest that made her clutch the edge of her cloak, desperately holding onto something familiar.
She wasn't afraid of Lind. Nor of being cast out or isolated.
She was afraid of one thing only… that what Lind said… might be true.
That Ren really could be cruel. That the lifeless eyes in the mines weren't just a moment of confusion, but a part of who he was.
If that were true…
Then the person she once trusted, once followed, once looked up to so she could be stronger… no longer existed. Or perhaps… never did in the first place.
That thought made it impossible for Yuna to breathe.
And so, she remained frozen, as if by not moving, not speaking, time could rewind. Or at the very least, the truth wouldn't become so painfully clear.
Just a few steps away, Nautilus gripped his trembling sword.
His hand was scraped from battle, but it didn't hurt as much as the fracture spreading across his chest.
Ren had once been his support. The one who never mocked him. The first to call him with trust instead of pity.
He had believed… that Ren would never leave anyone behind.
But he had seen it. With his own eyes.
Ren turning his back in the mines, ignoring the screams, letting them be swallowed by darkness.
And Yuna… was silent, just like now.
Nautilus glanced sideways. Yuna was biting her lip, eyes glistening. He knew she was struggling. He could feel the conflict. And that very conflict was what kept him from stepping forward.
If Yuna, who was closer to Ren than anyone else, was hesitating, then did he even have the right to speak?
Nautilus's throat tightened. His sword pointed downward, the tip buried in a pile of red pixels.
He didn't move forward. Nor did he retreat.
He just stood there, watching the friend who had once been his light… slowly swallowed by darkness, under the judgmental eyes of the living.
Just a few steps away, Nautilus stood as if pinned to the ground. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white, the steel quivering ever so slightly with each uneven breath.
Scratches on his hand bled, stinging....but not as much as the fissure spreading through his chest, where his heart once believed it had grown stronger.
Ren… to Nautilus, was more than just a friend. He was a support, a figure to follow in lightless nights.
The first to look at him without pity or scorn. No condescension, no pressure. Just a hand extended, saying: "Come with me."
In that moment, Nautilus believed… he could trust someone again.
He believed Ren was the kind of person who would never turn his back on anyone.
But then in the mines…
He had seen with his own eyes Ren walking away. No hesitation. No struggle. No regret. The desperate screams, the outstretched hands, all left behind, swallowed by the suffocating darkness.
Ren didn't explain.
And Yuna… didn't ask.
The two people Nautilus once believed would never abandon him… were both silent.
He tilted his head slightly, glancing toward Yuna. Her eyes were wet. Her lips cracked and dry. Yet she stood there, unmoving like a statue, as if the world around her would collapse the moment she dared to say anything.
He understood.
He could feel the struggle tearing her apart. And that very hesitation only made it harder for him to step forward.
If Yuna, the one who had always been closest to Ren, was still trapped between belief and doubt, then who was he to break this silence? What right did he have to question or defend?
A sob caught in his throat, unable to escape. Nautilus lowered his sword, letting the tip rest against the blurred red pixels at his feet, remnants of a battle, or perhaps the fragments of a friendship beginning to break apart.
No advance.No retreat.
Just standing there, caught between the judgmental eyes of the living and the terrifying silence of the one who had once been his guiding light.
And the darkness, slow but unyielding, crept closer, ready to swallow that figure whole, turning him into something unrecognizable that Nautilus didn't want to admit.
Nautilus didn't know what scared him more… that Ren had truly changed,or that he himself no longer had the courage to believe again.
Within the circle of players surrounding them, Diavel said nothing.
He stood behind Lind, just a few steps away, but his thoughts had drifted far from this place, entangled in a storm of conflicting emotions.
Ren… That name had never been at the center of his attention. Never someone he had paid much mind to, except that the boy always completed missions, quietly, efficiently, like a sharp blade hidden in its sheath.
He didn't speak much. Didn't cause trouble. Didn't form deep bonds with anyone.To a leader like Diavel, Ren was the kind of player easily overlooked, easily misjudged.
But when Lind pointed his finger, when his voice, sharp as a sword, accused Ren without hesitation… Diavel couldn't just dismiss it.
His gaze dropped to Ren, standing amidst a storm of accusations and the crushing silence.
Ren didn't deny anything.
Didn't shout.
Didn't defend himself.
That calm expression only deepened the unease.
In that moment, dozens of memories flashed through Diavel's mind like lightning—disconnected and incomplete.
Ren's gaze the first time they met in the mines, those eyes… deep, but distant.
The way he charged into battle without needing orders. The way he withdrew without waiting for anyone. None of it was wrong, tactically speaking, but…
Why did it feel like Ren was fighting somewhere else entirely, for something no one here could understand?
Diavel had once believed that someone who dared to rush the front lines like Ren must have a noble reason… something like his own ideals.
But if Lind was right, if every action was merely for survival, for calculation...then… what value was left in everything Diavel believed in?
No one truly knew who Ren was. Not even Diavel… though he should have.
And that very uncertainty was what made him hesitate.
"Ren…" he murmured, too softly for anyone else to hear. Just a whisper to himself.
His eyes drifted over the others.
Yuna, biting her lip. Nautilus, gripping his sword without moving.
These were the people who once walked beside Ren. And yet now… not a single one spoke up.
A part of Diavel wanted to intervene, to stop Lind before things went too far.But another part, cautious, cold, whispered that he had to hear it all, weigh it carefully.Because the cost of a mistake in this world… was a life.
Cold wind brushed his sweat-drenched face. Diavel's expression grew more complicated than ever, holding empathy, suspicion, and fear.
Not fear of Ren.
But fear that he himself… might be losing his way, somewhere between the path of a hero and the shadow of a suspect.
"What are you really fighting for, Ren?"
The question echoed in Diavel's mind like a bell ringing through a frozen silence.Not loud, but each syllable cut deeper, making it harder to breathe with every beat.
He took another step forward, as if forcing Ren to meet his gaze.
His eyes fell on the black cloak covering Ren's form, the hood casting deep shadows across most of his face, revealing only a sliver of his chin and those hollow eyes behind it.
A darkness clung to him, as if deliberately hiding any expression that might betray his thoughts. Or perhaps… Ren was hiding something even from himself, some truth he didn't dare to face.
The flickering light from the glowing ore scattered around them fell upon the hem of Ren's cloak, casting long, eerie shadows like invisible threads tightening around his body.