Stepping Away from the Name I Once Was.

Ren said nothing. He simply stood silent in the circle, under countless gazes that pierced like a thousand silent needles.

Darkness coiled around his feet, creeping up to the hem of his cloak. The dim glow of the scattered luminous stones barely outlined his shape in the cavern, powerless to illuminate the weight piling inside him.

No excuses. No explanations. Not even a sigh. Ren simply... didn't know what to say.

And wasn't sure if he should say anything.

Where would he even begin? With the things no one knew? With the guilt he couldn't forgive himself for? Or with wounds so old, even he couldn't remember why they hurt?

A breeze stirred, fluttering his cloak. Ren tilted his head slightly, eyes shifting toward the faces surrounding him.

Lind, eyes cold and sharp like a drawn blade, as if ready at any moment to sever not just his body, but the very name "Ren." No trial needed. Just the shattering of trust.

Shivata was different. He hadn't said a word from beginning to end. But that silence weighed heavier than any accusation.

Those eyes, dark as a well, deep and unreadable, made Ren feel as though every chance at redemption had already been stripped away.

Then he saw Yuna.

Blood on her lips from biting too hard. Eyes wide open, but not a single step forward.

Torment. Fear. Hesitation. So many emotions tangled in her gaze, as if a single word might collapse her entire world.

And Nautilus.

The one who once called Ren his light, now couldn't take even one step closer. His hand trembled on the hilt of his sword.

Lips tightly shut, eyes rimmed with red. He said nothing either. Perhaps he no longer had the strength to question...or like Ren, was afraid of hearing his own disappointment aloud.

Even Diavel.

Still standing there. Not withdrawing his question, but not pressing further. In his eyes, there was more than doubt...there was a longing to still believe.

A part of Diavel was still hoping... that something, anything, could save the image of Ren before it crumbled completely.

Ren withdrew his gaze and slowly bowed his head.

He knew… he had let them down. He was disappointed in himself too.

In the dim light, surrounded by those who were once allies, Ren felt like a shadow drained of all color. No longer the Ren they knew. No longer the Ren he had tried to become.

Only a person… with nothing left to say. And no one left to listen.

In that moment, silence was no longer a choice. It was a verdict.

"...Alright..." Ren murmured, his voice low, almost melting into the ground. "I'll leave the party."

No one stopped him.

No one spoke.

Only a soft sound, the movement of his hand through the air, activating the familiar system interface. A translucent window appeared before him, reflecting eyes that no longer held the light they once did.

[Do you want to leave the party?]

Two simple options, clean as a blade.

[Yes]    [No]

Ren stared at them.

A brief pause, like a breath caught in the throat.

No one could see his expression beneath the darkness, but they all felt something break, soundless, but more brutal than any scream.

His finger moved. One touch.

[Yes]

Tick.

The party icon at the corner of the screen faded, then disappeared. A link between him and all of them, severed. Not by blood. Not by a blade. But by his own hand.

Ren lowered his arm. His hand hung limply at his side...empty.

Everything around him fell silent.

No voices. No sharp breaths.

Even the air in the cavern seemed to hold itself still.

He didn't turn back.

Didn't offer a single explanation.

Ren just stood there a moment longer, then turned.

His cloak rustled lightly as he walked away, vanishing into the darkness...as if, from the very beginning, he had always belonged there.

No farewells. No one called him back.

Only the wind's soft whistle through the cave, and the spreading emptiness among those who once called each other comrades.

And one question left unanswered:

What had Ren truly been fighting for?

Suddenly, Ren's steps halted.

A voice rang out, not loud, not angry, but heavy, as though each word carried hundreds of unresolved memories.

"Do you know something?"

"I used to think you were someone with ideals," said Diavel, his voice slow and careful, as if afraid of losing something important.

"Someone who would always stand for what's right… even in the face of danger or solitude."

The wind inside the cavern blew past, lifting Ren's cloak, but the hood still concealed his face, shrouding it in shadows.

A darkness so thick, no emotion could be read.

"But now…" Diavel's voice faltered. "I'm not so sure anymore."

He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the thin back before him...one that didn't waver under the weight of those gazes.

Unblinking, unwavering, Diavel seemed to try and pierce through that cloak, seeking something that remained, some reaction, some resistance, or at the very least... a denial.

"Why?"

He asked, yet it felt more like he was asking himself. "What reason do you have to walk away?

To stay silent while others...those who once placed their faith in you, are left behind?They need you. Not as a hero. But as a companion. A friend."

He glanced briefly at Yuna and Nautilus, neither of whom knew what to do anymore...

No one spoke. No one intervened.

The air around them turned to ice. And in that silence, Diavel's words echoed like the last remnants of a breaking trust.

"You're not invisible. Not some ghost that can vanish without leaving a trace," Diavel continued, his voice lower now, strained.

"I once believed in you, Ren.

Not just in your strength...but in your heart, in your presence, within this twisted world."

He paused. Not because he had run out of things to say, but because his heart couldn't bear another word.

Each sentence… each syllable… dropped like small arrows.

Not enough to kill.

But slowly piercing every wall Ren might have built. Not the accusations of an enemy, but the quiet disappointment of someone who once hoped.

And that… was what hurt the most.

In that moment, Diavel felt lost, standing at the crossroads of hope and despair. He didn't know whether to keep calling Ren's name, or begin learning how to forget it.

"What are you fighting for… Ren?" That question, at last, surfaced again.

No answer was needed. Because perhaps… everyone already understood that even Ren himself was no longer sure.

And everyone, even those who had never been close to Ren, could feel one thing:

Though he still stood there, in the dim light of the mine, the Ren they once knew had already started to leave a long time ago.

The corner of Ren's lips lifted slightly, as if he was about to say something… an explanation, or maybe just a sigh, but then fell again. He lifted his head, his gaze meeting Diavel's for the first time.

Eyes the color of sapphire, clear but not cold. On the contrary, within them lay a bottomless sea, where fragments of memories, pain, and unnamed things slowly sank into the depths.

Ren remained silent. He didn't justify. Didn't refute. Didn't beg for forgiveness.

Not because he didn't care. But because he had chosen to refuse to explain.

He once believed words could save, could mend what had been broken. But the longer he lived in both worlds, the clearer it became: when the seed of doubt has taken root… no matter how much you speak, it will still grow, blossom, and tighten everything with vines of mistrust and distance.

Ren's life wasn't long. No one taught him how to live right, how to earn others' trust. He only knew how to survive, worn down. Only knew how to move forward… stepping into a dark, uncertain future.

And he had learned, in the cruelest way, That not all words could save what had been lost.

So he stayed silent.

Not to run away, but to accept.

Accept that some people would never look at him the same again. Accept that he could no longer return to the path behind him.

Beneath his hood, Ren closed his eyes for a moment, as if bowing his head to something that had already died within his heart.

Then he turned away. And walked on.

Despite the stares of those who once fought by his side. Despite the wind in the hollow mine whispering words no one dared to say aloud.

Someone who was once a light... was now slowly vanishing into darkness.

"Ren..."

The name escaped, like a reflex. Nautilus rushed forward, hurried footsteps echoing in the empty space. He wanted to stop Ren, to say something, anything, to shatter the growing distance between them.

But when his eyes met the silent, solitary back moving away without a glance… all the words stuck in his throat. As if a stone had lodged itself in his chest, heavy and choking.

He couldn't call out again.

His lips parted, then closed. His hand raised, then fell. Nautilus stood there, in the void, feeling like he had just lost something irreplaceable...something he could never retrieve.

Ren… the first person who believed in him, the one who was once a light in the dark, was disappearing, not because of death, but because of the distance born from misunderstandings no one dared to mend.

He wanted to chase after him. But his legs felt nailed to the cold stone floor. He wanted to speak. But his heart was afraid to hear the answer.

And so, just like Ren, Nautilus stood still, Rooted in the torment between hope and helplessness.

One turned and walked away. One could only watch, as words left unspoken dissolved into nothingness.

Ren stopped.

His footsteps fell silent, as if someone had just caught hold of the last scrap of conscience slipping away. For a brief second, everyone held their breath. Diavel frowned slightly, Nautilus seemed ready to rush forward again, and Yuna… still stood far away, motionless, as if any movement would let her tears fall.

Without turning back, Ren quietly opened his personal menu.

His gestures were slow but decisive. A flash of light appeared as he pulled an item from his inventory, a slightly dark sword, looking crudely forged, like it was crafted by a careless blacksmith, appearing almost stone-like, sharp-edged. Clearly, it had dropped from the boss they just defeated.

But Ren knew… it was an excellent sword… its stats were close to that of a regular two-handed sword… perhaps even better in balance and speed.

Ren said nothing for a few seconds.

Then he threw the sword toward Nautilus. The clanging metal echoed harsh and cold, like the screech of a snapping wire.

"Item… dropped from the boss just now." His voice was low, hoarse, almost blending into the wind. "Ditch the old sword."

A brief pause."At the very least, you need a better weapon… to protect what you want to protect."

Nothing more. Ren glanced sideways.

Those eyes, deep blue like a chasm, swept over Yuna, the girl standing still beneath the pale light of the glowing stones.

She didn't lift her head. Her eyes red, shoulders trembling. And her gaze turned away, as if unable to face the truth she didn't want to accept.

"I…" Nautilus stammered, but couldn't finish the sentence.

His expression, and those around him, shifted slightly.

Not just from surprise, but confusion. That sword… was clearly a valuable item, dropped from a powerful boss, second only to the finisher's reward.

Yet Ren… threw it away like it meant nothing.

Why?

The silence lingered in that moment, like a scratch in the air.

Ren only slightly turned his head, not enough to show his face beneath the hood, but his voice rang out, light as a breeze, cold as the morning frost blanketing the quarry.

"Don't need it. Consider it a parting gift…"

A short pause, as if anticipating the question Nautilus was about to ask, he continued, tone flat and hollow, "The money you've earned… use it for something better."

Without a hint of emotion.

No regret, no anger, no attachment.

As if he was used to giving, used to being misunderstood, used to walking alone.

And this time… was no different.

He turned his back again, his cloak trailing past bewildered stares, eyes that hadn't yet caught up to the truth already left behind.

Ren said no more.

A small crystal appeared in his palm.

No one knew when he had taken it out, tiny, translucent, shimmering with pale blue light, like a droplet frozen in midair.

Teleportation crystal.

An extremely rare item at this floor, meant to be reserved for life-or-death situations. But Ren didn't hesitate.

He gently squeezed it in his hand, the leather glove creaking ever so slightly. The stone shattered, scattering into glowing white shards, and then soft threads of light, like fireflies, began to wrap around his body.

Everyone watched, unable to utter a word.

The glimmering light swirled around Ren, as if every emotion within him faded with it, and vanished entirely.

And when the final light disappeared…Ren was gone.

No more silhouette. No more voice. No more gaze.

Only a sword left embedded in the ground… and a gnawing emptiness in the hearts of those who remained.