Jin kept going. Running, walking, attacking.
The air was thick, sticky like a fog of ashes. Each step sank slightly, but he didn't stop—there was no time, no direction, no reason. He just ran.
Then, a figure formed ahead of him. With a lazy smile and eyes glinting like blades, Lorn appeared.
"Those two idiots are no fun," he said, snapping his fingers. "Make sure you entertain me plenty, kid."
Before Jin could react, he felt the ground collapse beneath his feet.
A free fall.
A bottomless pit—no end in sight. But looking up, he couldn't see its beginning either.
There was no impact, no pain, no sound...
He awoke in a cave.
Everything was a deep red, like living flesh bathed in shadows. Seeing even the ground was a challenge.
Moisture and blood dripped down the walls. There were hands on them—small hands, large hands, human and demonic—all trying to grab him whenever he got close.
The ground was a kind of quicksand that sapped his strength with every step. The ceiling... the ceiling was alive. Faces formed on its pulsing surface, faces he knew, loved, or tried to forget.
Kaellia.
"Monster, you should die."
Her face, always furious.
Lira.
"You killed me, you killed all of us."
Always sad.
Saphira.
"You abandoned me... and you abandoned me again."
Disappointed.
Allan.
"You're trash. After everything I did for you, you treat me like a pawn."
Disgust.
Lyn.
"You're a monster, emotionless. No one has ever loved you, and no one ever will."
Contempt.
Eira.
"Help me, Jin... please help me..."
Fear.
Fliria.
"You let me die. You could have saved me."
Pain.
Kael.
"Weak. Weak. Weak."
Hatred.
"Shut up! ALL OF YOU!" Jin shouted, eyes wide, his breathing unsteady. His hand trembled. The faces didn't vanish. Worse—they seemed to laugh.
Bouros's voice emerged in his mind, firm, distant, like an anchor:
"Don't answer, kid. Keep moving. Ignore them."
Jin clenched his teeth and took a step. Strangely obedient.
Then another.
And another.
He walked for hours. Days, perhaps. Time lost meaning there.
The whispers never stopped. The voices repeated, shifted, laughed. The hands grabbed at him, the ground sank, the faces cursed him.
But he kept going.
"You haven't moved an inch, kid," Bouros said at last.
Jin stopped. He looked around. Nothing had changed.
Bouros began leaving small marks on the walls—grooves made of shadow.
Jin kept going.
Now monsters appeared in his path. Sometimes they were demons, grotesque creatures. Sometimes... Fliria. Lira. Saphira. Wounded, pleading, or with dead eyes.
He hesitated.
At first.
But after so many hours—or weeks—of walking, the hesitation faded.
His eyes lost their spark. His movements became mechanical. Each apparition that tried to deceive him, he destroyed.
And he always returned to the previous mark.
Bouros sighed.
"This is getting tiresome even for me."
Jin fell to his knees.
"I... I'm still here..." he said, a twisted smile forming on his face.
He touched his face, feeling fresh blood trickle down. And he laughed.
"Hahaha... I'm still here..."
"I'm in your mind..." Bouros said in a low tone.
Jin smiled again, but his eyes were dull.
"What should I do, then?"
"I don't know," Bouros replied. "But killing yourself isn't the answer."
Jin stood, his muscles weary, his feet sinking slightly into the ground.
"Maybe you're right..."
"Do everything differently," Bouros said. "If you would attack, dodge. If you would run, stop. If you would answer, stay silent. If he wants entertainment... then he'll get bored with this."
Jin closed his eyes.
He took a deep breath.
And started walking.
Slowly. Without anger. Without haste.
The faces on the ceiling began to scream louder.
The hands thrashed.
But he didn't react.
Silence.
He took the first step to break the cycle.
Jin walked through the endless corridor.
The screams continued. The walls moved, the hands snapped. But he didn't look up. He didn't respond. Each step was a defiance of madness, a silent affirmation that he still existed.
Then he saw something different.
A light.
A torch—solitary, lit, flickering in the oppressive darkness, almost like an invitation.
He hesitated... then ran.
Blood from the ground splashed with each step. The shadows tried to pull at his legs, but he pressed forward.
When he reached the torch, he saw a stone door behind it. Ancient, carved with symbols that seemed to breathe.
Jin reached out.
The stone was warm.
He turned the handle.
The light changed.
Sunlight.
Wind.
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Jin blinked.
He was... back in the village.
The stone path, the small wooden fence, the roofs covered with dry leaves. The stream up ahead. The field where he trained with his father. The tree he climbed to escape chores.
And, in front of him, his house. Small, cozy.
"No..." he whispered. "This is..."
The door was ajar. Jin walked toward it, his legs trembling.
Inside, his mother was laughing. Preparing food. His father was reading a book with a dark blue cover, lying on the small couch.
He stepped inside.
"Jin!" his mother said, smiling. "Did you wash your hands?"
He didn't answer. He just stared at her. She seemed... alive. Her hair tied back, her apron stained with flour. The same kind smile.
"Jin?" his father said, looking up. "Finally back, kid. I was starting to think you abandoned us over another fight."
Jin staggered back. His breathing quickened.
Tears began to stream down his face.
It was an illusion.
But it felt so real.
"Mom..."
Then came the sound.
BOOM.
The explosion. The door bursting open. A monstrous roar.
Bouros invading. The house burning. The shadow tearing through the floor. His mother running, his father trying to protect her.
The scream.
"JIN, RUN!"
But he didn't move.
He watched. Everything. Again.
His mother pierced by a spear of shadow. Falling into his arms. Still smiling.
"It's okay... you'll be okay..."
She died smiling. Like before.
His cries repeated as they had before.
Everything, again.
Then, darkness.
And once more, he was standing, returning to the house.
"Jin! Did you wash your hands?"
"Jin? Finally back, kid..."
The same cycle. The same death. The same faces. The same pain.
His mother in his arms again.
"I'm sorry, Mom." Each time it happened, Jin tried. Tried to redeem himself.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Years.
He tried closing his eyes. Screaming. Tearing at his own skin. Fighting. But nothing stopped the reset.
He lived. Died. Watched. Begged for forgiveness. Blood. The smell of burning. Her smile. His father's scream. The silence after. The smell of freshly baked honey bread.
And then:
Once more, the door to the house.
"Jin! Did you wash your hands?"
This time, he didn't answer. He stood still.
And when Bouros invaded... Jin didn't move.
The shadow came.
His mother ran.
His father shouted.
And Jin just... watched.
No panic.
No tears.
The shadow pierced his mother.
She fell.
He caught her.
"You'll be okay..."
But Jin just looked.
His eyes... were empty, barely seeing anything.
And a single tear fell.
Then something spoke, inside his mind:
"Such a well-crafted cycle... Are you still here?"
Jin whispered, to no one:
"I'm still here..."
It wasn't Bouros. A new voice.
Jin didn't notice.
He stood.
His feet stepped on the ashes.
He walked to the door and opened it.
For the thousandth time—or was it the thousand-and-first?—Jin crossed the threshold.
"Jin! Did you wash your hands?"
But this time, he took a deep breath.
Something was different.
Outside, he wasn't alone anymore.
Kael was there, sword in hand, leaning against the house's wall with a wide grin.
"Late as always, Jin."
Jin frowned.
"Kael...?"
The ground shook. The house's door exploded.
Bouros appeared once again, a colossus of living shadows, red eyes, teeth like spears. Jin felt fear crawl up his legs, as always. But this time...
"Not this time," he whispered.
His father burst from the house with a short spear in hand, and for a moment, Jin saw something he'd never seen before: pride in his father's eyes.
"Let's finish him, son!"
Kael spun his sword and shouted:
"See?! I always knew you were strong!"
The clash of weapons echoed.
Jin ran. Leaped. Slashed. Defended.
Bouros roared and tried to invade his mind, but Jin resisted. The shadows were defeated. Kael covered his left, his father his rear. They fought as one.
Jin screamed, a cry born of pent-up rage, pain, and buried love. And with one final strike—a clean cut through Bouros's throat—the monster fell, dissolving into mist.
Silence.
The shadow dissipated. The light returned.
Jin fell to his knees, breathing heavily.
His mother ran to him. Embraced him.
His father placed a hand on his shoulder, firm, steady.
"You surpassed even me, Jin," he said, his eyes glistening. "I'm proud of you, son."
Kael laughed, clapping him on the back.
"Now that's more like it. I knew it. Always did."
Jin smiled.
For a moment, he believed.
But then...
A crack.
Like a bone snapping.
Cold.
Something... was wrong.
The shadow fell across the ground. Like black ink.
And the voice...
Calm. Ironic. Cold as a wet dagger:
"Truly charming..." said Lorn, appearing behind Kael.
Before Jin could react, Lorn's arm pierced through Kael, side to side.
"Kael!"
Blood.
So much blood.
Kael coughed, tried to speak... but fell.
Jin's father charged with a cry of hatred.
But Lorn intercepted him.
With a simple gesture, he pierced his chest with a black spear formed from the air.
"Father!!"
His mother screamed.
Jin ran.
Lorn turned, a smirk on his face.
"Didn't that feel a bit too easy?"
His mother tried to flee.
Lorn raised his hand.
Shadows crushed her against the wall like a rag doll.
Everything went dark.
The light returned.
Jin was on the village path.
The breeze.
The smell of bread.
Jin vomited, coughed, screamed, cried.
"Jin! Did you wash your hands?"
He froze.
But something was different now.
The sky... was dark. The clouds... red.
In the distance, he heard horses. Then... screams.
Fire.
It wasn't Bouros this time.
It was Lorn.
The cycle was restarting once again.
But this time... it was worse.
Jin closed his eyes for a moment, his fists clenched.
"No... not again... Please, stop."
His mind spun, his words jumbled.
But the smoke was already rising, the voices already screaming. Lorn was already marching toward the village.
He tried to flee.
Tried to hide.
Tried to beg.
Tried to kill himself.
Tried to fight.
Each time, the cycle restarted.
Relentlessly.
But this time, Jin did something different.
He stayed.
Took a deep breath.
And ran to the house.
"Father. Kael. Now."
Something in his voice made them obey without question.
Lorn appeared on the path, as always.
His body cloaked in shadows, a cruel smile, eyes like holes in the world.
"You really don't give up. How cute," he said, raising a spear of darkness.
But this time, Jin was ready.
He struck first.
An explosion of shadow and steel.
His father on one side, Kael on the other.
Coordinated. Synchronized.
Jin fought like never before—each strike precise, each step firm. The world seemed different, as if for a moment he had control over his own nightmare.
Lorn roared.
But Jin went further.
He launched himself, sword gripped in both hands, and drove it into the demon's chest.
Kael held Lorn from behind.
His father pierced Lorn's abdomen with his short spear.
The shadow faltered.
Lorn screamed.
Light.
Explosion.
Silence.
Lorn fell.
And this time... he didn't get up.
The shadows vanished.
The sky cleared.
Kael embraced Jin.
"You did it. I knew you were strong."
His father nodded, proud.
Jin took a deep breath.
Looked at them both.
His eyes were empty.
His smile, serene.
"Finally," he said.
For the first time, he felt... free.
But then...
A crack.
The shadow on the ground trembled.
And the voice, whispered, cut through the air:
"Yes... finally," said Lorn, opening his eyes even with the sword piercing his chest.
Jin froze.
Kael's eyes widened.
He was crushed.
Ragan tried to retreat.
His chest exploded.
Lira ran from afar.
She was pierced.
But the world... was already unraveling.
The houses turned to mist.
The people, shadows.
The village, swallowed by blood.
Jin fell to his knees, looking around.
The sword in his hand evaporated like smoke.
Lorn walked again.
Unscathed.
Smiling.
"That was fun, watching you try so hard. I must admit, this version of the cycle entertained me. But... shall we go again?"
And then, everything went dark.
Light.
The path.
The smell of bread.
"Jin! Did you wash your hands?"
Jin didn't answer.
He didn't scream.
His mind had nothing left to break.
He just stood there, eyes empty, staring at the house's door.
And then he laughed, a dry, grotesque laugh. His arm, once torn off, was there again. His hands went to his eyes.
And then he scratched, hard, until he bled. While laughing. His laughter was loud, terrifying, broken. He laughed for hours while staring at the door.
Knowing exactly what came next.