Re:Beginning
After the effortless escape from the bed of rocks, I shake myself to rid my body of the lingering dust. It's a reflex—an automatic rejection of anything trying to weigh me down, though the heavier burdens always linger unseen.
It seems I've slumbered for over eight centuries.
How do I know?
With the endless stretch of ti?m??e? behind me, I've perfected an arsenal of countless abilities—most of them raw, primal, and brutal.
But beyond than that, I've also cultivated my mind, sharpening it into a tool of meticulous observation—allowing me to catch the faintest ripple in the fabric of reality—details unnoticed by others, but not by me.
And, of course, I used this keen awareness to analyze... rocks.
A hammer over a scalpel, I suppose.
Yeah...
Also, Ryna told me bluntly that we're in year 771.
Anyway, back to the awe-inspiring ruins surrounding me.
Let me begin with the most basic of observations: IT EXISTS!
"Duh, no shit Sherlock!" - you, right now, probably—but listen!
I deserve to bathe above the solid ground of gravel, at least one minute, man! I've been through a lot, so let me have this moment!
So, as I was saying: A solid, real place that holds my weight and bathes my eyes in light and colors.
In other words: IT EXISTS!
And existence, in its simplest form, means one undeniable truth—the Theory of the Universe's Creation.
After nothingness persists for an unimaginable span of time, a new reality births itself, a reflexive act born from the flaws inherent in existence itself.
Of course, there's also a faint, absurd, laughable, bizarre, ridiculous, silly possibility that, in regaining control of my body, I somehow regurgitated the reality my monstrous self had devoured.
But given my state of motionless slumber, the odds of that are laughably low.
Heh... Not zero, but close enough...
Them thoughts made me shiver, the sheer freakishness demands distraction, so I returned to Ryna, seeking conversation.
"Hey, Ryna, what is this place? Where are we exactly?" I ask while staring at the clouds above us.
But—
Something wasn't right.
I was...
Staring straight into the heart of the cosmos—cosmic stars scattered across the endless skies!
The clouds... they were still there, soft white masses drifting lazily as they always did, shifting with the wind.
Still framed by the familiar blue sky, yes!
But, these clouds were moving against the vast, oppressive backdrop of the galaxy itself.
We still had light, yes, but I couldn't quite place where it was coming from.
Was it from a distant Sun, or was it the aftermath of those stars?
No surprise if it was the former—the entire sky was drowning in them, after all, as if the very fabric of space had cracked open, spilling the light upon these ruins.
This isn't normal, is it?
"You don't know, Lucy? You've been here yesterday when I visited, and the day before as well!"
That caught me off-guard. I ignored that fleeting moment of brilliance she had, hoping she'd continue her idea, which she did. "These ruins are called the Wicked Well," she answers, her voice brightening. "People come here looking for treasures!"
"Treasures, you say? Like that gleaming stone over there?" I ask, my finger tracing the air towards an object perched high above us.
It sparkled like a cosmic star, nestled deep within the gnarled branches of a towering tree.
The tree was definitely a colossal monument! It was exaggeratedly tall, exuding a defiant grace, and reaching the heavens with an air of quiet power. Its bark was rough and weathered, its roots winding through the earth like ancient serpents.
The stone I pointed to, was well-guarded, deeply ensnared within the grasp of a single outstretched limb—twenty-five meters above us!
A bridge to another world.
It seemed slender and weak when measured against the colossus itself, but still thicker than my entire arm!
Ryna's ears perk up, her tail flicking excitedly as her gaze locks onto my target. "Oooh! You've got good eyes, Lucy! But the problem is… Ryna can't reach it!" To prove her point, she hopped a few times, flailing her hands dramatically. The effort was comical, yet somehow endearing, as she emphasized just how far beyond her reach that stone truly is.
And, well... she wasn't wrong.
The stone was already beyond my reach, which means to someone of Ryna's stature, it must feel like it's dangling in another dimension. The only way up is to climb—but that poses its own problem.
The ancient tree is... oddly pristine.
Its bark lacks the usual scars of time, smooth and polished, as if some obsessive artist had spent centuries sanding it down to perfection for some... artistic reason?
But, you already know what I am.
Once upon a time, a human gardener got himself caught in some sick, illogical battlefield. Yeah...
Hey! Don't skip, I'm not doing a flashback!
Relax, I'm not about to throw myself a pity party!
I was just saying...
Anyway, the obstacle; okay?
That towering, insurmountable distance? It barely phased me.
With a mostly-casual ease, I stretched my arm, elongating it over those impossibly long meters, until, at last, I plucked the gleaming jewel from its perch.
I'm glad I chose to elongate my arm instead of flaunting those... ugly wings.
Those grotesque, accursed appendages.
Why?
Well, first off—tactical choice.
I really didn't want to send the small nekojin running for the hills, screeching like I was some abomination.
But beyond that—the moment my fingers brushed against the gem, a truth unfurled within me...
That boundless power I waved within the void?
Was no more!
It was as if something deep within me—my insides, to be exact—vanished.
A strange emptiness took hold, hollowing out my torso.
It was simple, really.
If I wanted my arm to stretch, to reach beyond the limits of my form, it wouldn't be through unseen magical forces.
Nope!
That was gone!
No longer do I command the nothingness!
Now, if I wanted to elongate my limb, I would have to shift—to steal from one part of my body, carrying its mass to fuel another.
The classic trope:
THE FINAL BOSS WHEN YOU FIGHT IT: DESTROYS THE VERY REALITY ITSELF!
THE FINAL BOSS WHEN YOU UNLOCK IT AS A PLAYABLE CHARACTER: HALP, SUMMONER! I CAN'T STRETCH MUH BODY! (╥﹏╥)
Ah, uh... A fair trade? I suppose...
After the realization settles, I bring the gleaming object back and offer it to Ryna with a nonchalant gesture.
"Here you go."
Her eyes instantly widen to the size of saucers, her mouth hanging open in pure disbelief.
"EH-WHAT!?"
I pause, a hint of unease creeping in.
Did I reveal myself too soon?
My mind races.
Do people in this world not have powers?
I raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge her reaction.
Then she sputters again, her voice tinged with panic.
"You're giving it to Ryna?! Lucy, this rock—this gem—is expensive!"
Ah, so that's how it is.
I've just handed her something with worth beyond my understanding.
That complicates things, but clears up my stress, at least.
Clearly, I needed to establish some sort of trade.
"It's not free, Ryna," I say, letting a faint smile play on my lips. "I have one request in return."
She tilts her head in confusion, her ears twitching curiously. "A quest? For Ryna!?"
"Yes. I need a guide." I pause deliberately, stopping myself before using the word 'world.' "I need someone to show me around town. If you agree to help, the stone is yours."
Her face lights up, her tail wagging furiously behind her. "Deal! Ryna will show you all of town, Lucy! You'll love it!"
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I can't help but smile.
The truth is, I don't need the stone.
Water?
Unnecessary.
Sustenance?
A forgotten luxury.
Sleep?
I've already indulged in over 700 years of it, plus the time before.
But a companion?
A guide?
That's something I can't conjure or replace.
For now, her company and this fresh world are more than enough.
And who knows?
Perhaps this girl, with her boundless energy and sparkling eyes, will lead me to something I've long since lost...
After handing her the glistening rock, we set off together, our footsteps echoing softly through the crumbling remains of the ancient ruins. We walked side by side, the quiet hum of the world around us mingling with the faint chime of the rock in her hand, catching the light with a slow, deliberate brilliance.
"Hey, Ryna, where are we headed next?" I asked as I raised my arms in a lazy, deliberate stretch. The motion wasn't just for the release of tension—it was a slow, exploratory check-up of my own body.
"Ryna's heading toward the exit!" she chirped, her voice bubbling with an infectious energy that seemed to spark in the air around us.
I wasn't in a rush.
We had the entire day before us, vast and unhurried.
I could afford to lose myself in the rhythm of the moment, letting my gaze wander over the fractured landscape around us.
We could also try to hunt more of those gemstones.
They'd certainly be useful—for her people she mentioned before—for me too, blending in, without drawing undue suspicion.
Until I could fully understand this world; and my body which had changed—I needed to tread carefully.
One accident could mean...
Anyway!
Let's shift the focus to the journey's goal: the door!
Ryna, ever the chatterbox, filled our quiet walk with a steady stream of observations about our surroundings, her voice light and unbothered.
She spoke of everything from the flutter of distant leaves to our goal—a door framed by moss-covered stone pillars, which, to my surprise, was our exit.
Yeah, you heard that right!
A door. Framed by moss-covered stone pillars. Just standing there all by itself, smack dab in the middle of nowhere!
I'm just as baffled as you are, believe me!
I couldn't make sense of it, and frankly, I wouldn't have believed it, if my body wasn't capable of growing wings and shaping up blades.
With the every-now-and-then chats, we continued our expedition.
Talking about every-now-and-thens, I sensed something… a flicker, a stirring.
It was subtle, like a whisper at the edge of my awareness.
At first, I brushed it off, convincing myself it was nothing more than the lingering stiffness in my body—no doubt from the eons I spent asleep, locked away in the rubble.
But deep down, I knew I should've trusted that fleeting instinct.
Why?
Because it slowly grew stronger and stronger, and before I could voice the nagging thought, the ground beneath us betrayed any semblance of peace.
It wasn't just a tremor.
It was a sharp, unsettling shake, something that made the air itself hum with a sense of impending disaster.
I was about to ask Ryna if this was a natural occurrence, however, the answer itself showed up instead!
She froze, her playful energy drained rapidly, replaced by confused fear.
Her tail stilled, the vibrant flicks of excitement from before now absent, as her wide eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the distance.
At first, it was barely a shape in the horizon, a hulking silhouette far beyond us.
A Golem?
But then, in the span of a heartbeat it disappeared.
No steps.
No sound.
Not even shadows against the light...
It was as if it fucking teleported—as if the thing had slipped into its own pocket of reality, only to be spat out somewhere else in the blink of an eye!
And that somewhere else?
Right before Ryna.
Towering at least nine meters tall and spanning four meters across, the monster's presence was nothing short of horrifying! Its massive form seemed to defy the very laws of nature, casting a long shadow that stretched across the ground.
The rough, jagged contours of its stony body gleamed under the searing, almost blinding light, reflecting the intensity of the world around it.
The creature loomed over the tiny nekojin, and with a motion that was almost too fast to follow, it raised a colossal hand, poised for what could only be a devastating blow.
I realized, too late, that we were separated. She probably scampered off chasing a glimmering reflection on the ground. Perhaps she had hoped to find another gem or some treasure for her needs. And now she stood alone, paralyzed with fear.
The golem's hand came crashing down with terrifying speed.
She let out a sharp, panicked "Eeeek!", her eyes glistening with the sheen of impending tears, the weight of fear pressing down on her.
She whispered in a voice so faint I almost missed it, "Goodbye, Lucy."
But it wasn't goodbye.
The world slowed to a crawl, each second stretching into an eternity.
Remember the 'hammer over a scalpel'?
I wasn't kidding!
This event, that started not long ago, was one of my abilities.
Eh, uhm...
More like a sensory sensitivity I've developed over t?im??e?.
It was as if the universe itself bowed to my will, dilating time to grant me the space to act.
While such an ability would terrify an ordinary person, to me, it was second nature.
An eternity or a fleeting moment?
What's the difference again?
I strolled casually through the frozen tableau, reaching Ryna and the golem just as the massive hand began its descent. With my right palm, I intercepted the blow, halting the attack effortlessly. My left hand rested gently on Ryna's back. "Don't worry," I said softly. "This mister over here is strong, remember?"
The golem recoiled, stumbling back as if shocked.
Time resumed its flow, and Ryna gasped, her wide eyes flickering between me and the creature.
The golem's gray body flushed an angry red, signaling its shift into a more dangerous state.
It dashed again, faster than before—this beast would put Zeus' bolts to shame!
But to me, it was still crawling.
I shifted my weight slightly, slamming my foot into the earth with a calculated precision. Dust and shards of stone leapt into the air, the earth itself trembling as though alive. The shockwave barreled toward the golem like a tidal wave, striking it with unrelenting force.
The creature staggered, its heavy, lumbering body failing to adapt to the sudden disruption.
Its momentum betrayed it, hurling the golem uncontrollably into the distance.
It crashed against a towering tree—an ancient monolith of nature, its bark blackened as it grew around an obsidian tower.
The impact...
Was not nice...
Sparks flew from the collision, a violent cascade of light and heat, but the tree held firm, its jagged, sharp surface impaling the golem's once-imposing frame—like a warrior who had fallen to a sword driven deep into his heart...
I feel like I've seen this tableau somewhere before!
A déjà vu so strong, I spent s?ev?e??n ho?ur?s? trying to remember it...
Oh, but don't worry, for them it was just under a second!
Anyway, I eventually gave up trying to figure it out.
It felt too complicated...
"┐( ˘_˘)┌"
The beast's crimson glow flickered erratically, a failing heartbeat as it slumped to the ground, motionless.
But not dead...
It was my turn to test out that blitzing speed, and thus stepped forward, placing a single finger against its chest.
I had sensed something unusual in that place, a strange energy source that pulsed faintly amidst its otherwise lifeless bodypieces.
With a gentle tap, I cracked the core stone embedded in its chest.
There was a sharp, sickening crack, and the golem froze.
Its red glow returned to its original blue, then faded as the creature crumbled into rubble.
Whatever life force had animated it, was now gone.
I won, yes, but...
My mind was demanding answers: if a creature like this was merely a passerby in these ruins' terms, what dangers awaited beyond these walls?
Peace, it seemed, would not come easily in this new world.
But for now, I turned my attention back to Ryna, who was already poking at the golem's remains curiously with a stick.
"Lucy is amazing..." she said softly.
Unsure what to say next I simply instructed toward our next location, hoping for a moment of respite.
"Let's get out of here. There's a whole world waiting for us." I said ruffling her hair.
Before long, we stumbled upon a serene clearing, a break from the oppressive ruins around us. In the center stood an ancient tree whose sprawling branches cast a cooling shade. Beneath it flowed a crystalline stream, its waters glinting like liquid silver.
Tiny fairies, each glowing softly in shades of blue, green, and gold, flitted around the tree. Their delicate wings shimmered as they hovered above the stream, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.
I led Ryna to the water's edge, where we crouched to drink. The liquid was cold and refreshing, quenching not just our thirst but some deeper weariness I hadn't realized I carried. It felt like a luxury rather than a necessity, a moment of indulgence after the unwanted challenge.
This place had a strange allure. I couldn't help but think it would make an excellent home. The thought lingered, tempting me with visions of peace. But it was fleeting. The image of the golem blitzing toward Ryna replayed in my mind, a sharp reminder of the dangers lurking here.
If my mind was even slightly unsynced, even for a second, she would've…
No!
The golem wasn't important anymore.
What mattered was getting out of this dungeon.
Staying here wasn't an option.
Resting in this haven, however, was a welcome reprieve.
Ryna, now more composed, broke the silence. "Those creatures... Up until now, they were sleepy. They ignored Ryna. Ryna could sneak past them. But today…" She hesitated, her tail drooping slightly. "Today, they moved…"
Wait, those creatures?
Plural?
I mulled over her words. There are many of them?
As for the golem's supposedly unusual reaction—was because of a certain angel's awakening?
A being whose very existence might've been enough to provoke it.
Perhaps it was a guardian...
Or perhaps it was just bad luck.
"Do they ever wonder outside, into the real world?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Ryna fidgeted, her ears flattening slightly. "They shouldn't be able to use the doors or fit through them…" Her voice trailed off, uncertainty weighing heavily on her small frame.
Seeing her distress, I smiled and ruffled her hair again. "Don't worry. As long as we stick together, I'll protect you. It's an easy job, trust me!"
She looked up at me, her wide eyes searching for reassurance. My words must have worked, because her face slowly brightened. Her smile returned, tentative at first, then blossoming into its usual exuberance.
With our spirits lifted, we left the peaceful clearing behind. As we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that this dungeon still held more surprises—and not the pleasant kind. But for now, we moved with purpose, one step closer to the exit, one step closer to whatever lay beyond these walls.
As long as Ryna was near me, I'd easily guarantee her safety.
The monotonous scenery unfolded again, the world blurring into a dull canvas of stone as the sun lazily began its descent. The creatures we came across were hardly noteworthy—small goblins, their features sharp but unthreatening, yet still with a courage that kept them standing tall in the face of danger. They were dressed in the usual medieval-fantasy garb: rough leather tunics clinging to their wiry frames, short pants that barely reached their knees, belts and makeshift tools, and weapons that looked like crude hammer-like stone daggers—rough, jagged, and clearly forged in haste.
They were locked in battle with a wolf, its massive form easily twice the size of the goblins.
Their clash didn't pique my curiosity, but if I had to bet, my money would be on the wolf.
It wasn't just a beast—it seemed forged, not born.
Steel-clad muscles rippled beneath its nightly-dark hide, each movement exuding the precision of a finely tuned weapon.
Against flesh and bone, there was no contest.
The outcome was inevitable—ruthless, mechanical victory.
As we pressed forward, a quaint, miniature-village emerged in the corner of my eye, nestled like a forgotten gem amid the rolling landscape. Tiny, pointy-hatted figures scurried through the streets, their movements brisk and purposeful. Beside them, amorphous blobs of varying sizes and iridescent hues shimmered under the lights, their gelatinous bodies catching the light like living gemstones.
"Gnomes and slimes," Ryna murmured, her eyes tracing the bustling scene. The gnomes worked with meticulous efficiency, hammering together homes of twisted wood and carved stone while their gelatinous companions assisted in their own peculiar ways—absorbing heavy loads, stretching into scaffolding, or simply bouncing merrily beside their industrious partners. Their harmonious existence stood in stark contrast to the chaos we had endured, a serene world untouched by the weight of war and struggle.
And then, just before we reached the main landmark, another settlement came into view—a stark contrast to the gnomes' thriving village. This one barely clung to existence, its crude structures leaning as if exhausted by the mere effort of standing. The air carried the scent of damp earth and something stale, a far cry from the industrious charm of the previous village.
The inhabitants? Not even half as impressive as the goblins we had passed earlier, who were locked in a duel of honor against a superior beast.
No, this was something else entirely. To call it a village would be an insult to the gnomes. This was a gathering of kobolds—huddled, scrappy, and clinging to the remnants of whatever dignity their crumbling settlement allowed.
But all of that—the villages, the strange sights—was now behind us. From the crest of the hill, I saw it, standing there like a beacon in the distance.
There it was.
THE TICKET TO THE OUTSIDE WORLD!
A door—one of those doors, y'know?
Standing in the middle of absolute nowhere, as if it had been waiting for me all this time, patiently enduring the barren stretch of land around it.
The journey was finally nearing its end. All the struggles, the detours, the unknowns—they had led to this moment.
And now, standing on the precipice, I could almost hear the door beckoning, calling me to the world beyond!
Our steps echoed faintly against the mossy gravel, swallowed by the oppressive stillness around us. The air, once merely stale, grew heavier with each passing step, pressing down on us like a suffocating shroud.
A shy miasma of charcoal—due to my increased sensitivity—was actually sharp and intrusive, clawing at my nostrils.
The atmosphere shifted, thick with an intangible weight, a quiet yet potent menace.
The silence was no longer just silence—it felt alive, as though the shadows themselves were watching, waiting.
There was something disturbingly familiar about it.
Still, we pressed on.
What else could we do?
The sky above finally gave in—was now a muted canvas of dusk, the horizon tinged with hues of orange and purple.
We had walked long enough for the sun to set, and the landscape was hauntingly creepy.
Ryna stood close as we navigated this space.
Her initial surprise at my heightened caution gave way to quiet understanding as she let me lead.
The stillness was unsettling, so we moved with deliberate care against the feeling that we were being watched.
The distance seemed insatiable, and I began to wonder if this place was designed to test patience as much as resolve.
Then...
SCREEECH!!!
The peace shattered.
A sharp, unearthly scream sliced through the stillness, dark and piercing—like a predator's cry echoing across a silent night.
Ryna's body spasmed, a sharp, involuntary twitch.
She followed up with an inhumanly fast dash behind me—her small, trembling frame pressing into my back, seeking refuge.
Seems like the Golem's attack left emotional scars...
I reached out, resting a steadying hand on her shoulder, grounding her as I scanned the surroundings for the source of the dreadful noise.
Nothing...
Just ruins, ruins, and more ruins—still and foreboding as ever.
The sound—it felt as though the very air itself was screaming, a disembodied cry that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere.
I frowned.
Could the dungeon itself be alive, its voice a warning or a threat?
A thought that lingered uncomfortably in my mind.
And then it came again.
SCREEECH!!!
Louder, sharper, more grating this time.
It clawed at my senses, refusing to be ignored.
Ryna flinched again, her ears flattening against her head, but I kept her close, my gaze darting around with heightened focus.
Still, no sign of a threat.
No shadow, no movement—nothing to explain the awful noise.
But it didn't matter.
The door was nearing.
Just a little more!
Relief surged through me as I quickened our pace, eager to escape this cursed floor once and for all.
And then....
A thing blazed through the sky as it plummeted, a streak of molten light that set the very air on fire, the heavens themselves screaming in a furious inferno of flame and choking smoke.
The ground beneath us quaked violently, as though the earth itself recoiled from the impending destruction, and then came the roar—a deafening, guttural sound that tore through the air as the beast slammed into the door, shattering the stillness like glass.
The impact was a thunderous crash, sending a shockwave spiraling outward with terrifying force, flattening the grass in its wake and hurling jagged fragments of ancient stone from nearby ruins like missiles.
I stood before Ryna, shielding the tiny nekojin from the storm of debris that rained down on us.
She was clutching at my back, her eyes closed, as if leaving her life in fate's hands...
The impact was the result of a creature's fall—directly onto the door's frame.
What struck me immediately that not a single scratch marred the surface of the door, nor any trace of damage. Instead, the monster had been cleaved in two, as though it had met a blade so sharp it didn't even leave a wound.
The two halves of its body crashed to the sides of the door, sickeningly.
However, it wasn't over yet...
The two bodies twitched violently, dark tendrils, slick and sinuous, slithered from both halves, curling and writhing with a life of their own.
They reached, strained, then connected—the flesh of the beast weaving itself back together in a grotesque, unnatural union.
Yeah, you heard that right...
Apparently, a comet-like fall wasn't quite enough to put an end to this—whatever the fuck it was.
The dark strands of its essence fused, pulsing with raw energy—returning to what it had been, or what I could only assume was its original form.
The creature began to stir again, rising from the ruins of its fractured body, mocking the violence of its fall as if it had never been harmed at all.
It rose slowly, each movement deliberate and chilling, unfurling like a nightmare made flesh.
Its form twisted and reshaped before my eyes, a gro?tes?qu??e mo?ck?ery of l??if?e, its presence suffocating the air around us.
I gazed straight through the abomination—no, I dissected it with my eyes; orbs honed by the endless eternity of training, constantly drowning them in the sea of nothingness. With this sight, I saw it all—every grotesque inch of its twisted form, every crevice, every pore, every writhing organ—or lack of organs—even down to the microscopic dance of its cells and the minuscule vibrations of its atoms.
Despite the infernal descent it had endured, there was no fire to its essence. No trace of pyromania burned within it. Unless—perhaps—it used magic, something even I with my experience haven't yet confirmed its existence, let alone its properties or functionality.
The flames were nothing more than a violent byproduct, born from the sheer, unrelenting velocity of its fall—a fiery aftermath of an unstoppable force crashing through the sky, not an intrinsic part of the creature itself.
It resembled a bird in shape alone, its massive body covered in sinewy flesh and grotesque, writhing tendrils that mimicked a skeletal frame.
Its wings were jagged, the only words that could describe them were 'beyond overused yet unable to fail or fall'.
Despite its grand entrance, ts unnatural form bore no burns or scars.
It was as though the laws of nature simply didn't apply to this monstrosity.
"What in the world?"
My gaze locked onto its face—a grotesque, featureless mask of emptiness.
It had no eyes, no expression to read, just the void of its form.
The only defining features were the cruel, jagged horns and wicked spikes that jutted from its skull, but even these were no part of it, not truly.
They seemed to puncture its flesh, stabbing into its own head, as if its very existence was some twisted mockery of suffering.
The horns twisted and dug deeper into its skull with each movement, as though the creature was bound by agony itself.
Despite all that, it still turned toward me with an unsettling precision, as though it could see—or sense—me perfectly.
The stood still, its tendrils twitching faintly.
The only sound it made was the same screech, now more guttural, more deliberate.
It wasn't just noise.
It was studying me with predatory intent.
"Fine," I said, breaking the tense silence. "Have it your way. I'll make the first move."
I took a step forward, closing the distance.
To my surprise, the creature recoiled, its grotesque form shifting backward.
It was a subtle motion, but it was there—a retreat.
I narrowed my eyes.
Was it… afraid?
I tested the theory, stepping forward again with deliberate intent.
The creature flinched, its tendrils curling inward defensively.
Its screeching grew softer, more frantic.
It wasn't just reacting—it was hesitating... Calculating?
For all its monstrous appearance, it possessed a spark of intelligence, enough to recognize the danger I posed.
"Interesting," I murmured. But I had no time for a drawn-out confrontation.
The door was my priority!
Without breaking eye contact, I reached for Ryna's hand, guiding her toward the door.
My movements were slow, deliberate, non-threatening.
The creature remained rooted in place, its tendrils quivering as it watched us pass.
And just like that, we were through.
The door closed behind us, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Ryna looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and confusion. "Lucy… it let us go?"
"Seems like it," I replied, though the words felt hollow.
My thoughts were racing.
Why had it backed down?
Could it truly have been afraid of me?
Or was it simply biding its time, a predator watching its prey escape for now?
A faint flicker of energy caught my attention.
The sensory ability was still in effect.
I glanced back through the now-closed door, focusing on the creature's presence.
Its emotions washed over me in an instant: fear, uncertainty, and something deeper… respect?
It had recognized me as a superior force, one it had no desire to challenge.
I let out a quiet laugh, more out of disbelief than humor. "So, even monsters like that can feel fear."
But the thought gave rise to more questions.
Why had the golem fought without hesitation?
Was it mindless, bound to its purpose?
What was its purpose?
Was it a guardian?
Or did it simply lack intelligence?
Unable to feel anything, not just fear, entirely?
...
Was it created to guard my tomb?
...
I pushed the thoughts aside.
They were questions for another time.
What mattered now was that we had breached out—the true beginning of freedom!
The stale air of the ruins was behind us, and ahead lay the promise of a new world, fresh and untainted, waiting to be explored.
Alongside with whatever dangers it prepared for yours truly!