Never Truly Real

The sun scorched the beach like fire. The scent of the ocean mingled with the acrid stench of burning armor. Waves crashed endlessly, carrying with them white foam and dried blood from the battle before.

Ahead, three massive ships approached the shore. Reinforcement flags fluttered in the wind, and streaks of light glinted off the decks like a final promise of salvation.

The survivors emerged from the forest. Their formation broken, exhausted—just over three hundred remained. Some limped, some carried the wounded, and many wore hollow expressions, as if they had crawled up from hell itself.

At the front, Dathweet walked beside Lucky, the ancestral blade wrapped in Nifow in his right hand glowing a deep ember red. His left hand steadily gathered energy, crimson aura spiraling around his wrist like threads of an unfinished weapon.

Lyun walked beside him. She held no weapon, only a small pouch of medicine clutched to her chest. Her steps trembled slightly, and her eyes darted behind them constantly—as if any bush could unleash a new nightmare.

Dathweet glanced at her.

"Stay close. No more than two steps away from me."

Lyun nodded silently. In her eyes was worry—but not weakness.

Sun stood a few rows back, hands raised to absorb sunlight from above. A faint golden halo shimmered in her palms. Her hair stuck to her face with sweat, eyes half-shut. Behind her, a group of injured survivors stood protected under a glowing dome she conjured, like a fragile armor of hope.

Lucky turned his head and shouted:

"Ten more minutes! If nothing goes wrong—we'll be on those ships!"

And then—

Rustle.

From the forest's edge, a figure stepped out. Tall. Wielding an axe. His body riddled with scars, but his eyes were terrifyingly clear. A crooked smile played on his lips.

Coss. The real one.

Dathweet's grip on his sword tightened.

Lucky spat:

"You bastard… You're still alive?"

Coss smirked:

"You think I'd be dumb enough to show up back there?"

No one had time to react.

Screams erupted from the woods.

One hundred? Two? No one knew.

The infected burst out like a living avalanche. No moaning. No decay. They laughed, screamed, cursed, clawed at their own faces, licked blood, rolled like wild animals. Some smeared ash across their skin while shrieking, others dragged corpses on chains—kissing each bone as they marched.

Lucky roared:

"AMBUSH! Crescent formation! Fall back to the ships!"

Battle exploded.

A massive infected beast ripped a soldier apart with its bare hands, shouting:

"Break the meat! BREAK IT!!"

Sun swept her hand, unleashing a blinding beam of light.

The beam incinerated three crawlers instantly. A radiant circle flared around her, shielding the helpless behind her.

"Keep going! Fall back toward the gas bombs!"

At the rear, members of the research team rolled out a large metal container —inside, the red gas bombs. The formula Lucky had completed the night before—not to kill, but to free the infected.

"Drop it! Right into their swarm!"

A mage imbued the bomb with magic—FWOOSH!—it launched high into the sky and burst, releasing a crimson mist like diluted blood over the battlefield.

As the infected charged through the haze… some began to scream. Others clutched their heads and collapsed. A few started… crying.

"Mom… Mom…"

They fell. Silent. One dropped his knife, shivering, eyes wide in shock—like waking from a nightmare.

"It's working!" someone shouted.

But the joy lasted only three seconds.

The rest of the infected… didn't fall.

They laughed harder. Screamed louder. As if watching their kin collapse only made them hungrier.

A voice shouted:

"They're weakening! Kill the traitors first!"

Dathweet swung his sword.

The Nifow-coated blade slashed down, slicing through several infected at once. Blood sprayed like a broken pipe, splashing the face of another—before he could scream, a crimson arc of sword energy from Dathweet's left hand pierced through his throat.

Coss charged in.

His axe came crashing down like thunder. Dathweet blocked it—his blade vibrated violently, and the ground beneath them cracked wide open.

Lyun stumbled behind him.

An infected crawled toward her, eyes bloodshot, mouth dripping with blood.

Dathweet spun—hurled his sword energy.

One slash—split the creature in two. Then he turned back to face Coss.

Coss:

"You think you can protect all of them?"

Dathweet:

"Why the hell would I want to protect them?"

They clashed.

Coss swung his axe at chest level.

One sweeping blow—air whistled sharply. Dathweet dodged back, parried with his blade—the force was so great that sand exploded outward, and the earth beneath them sank like it had been struck by a meteor.

He tilted sideways, unleashing a curved blade of red energy from his left hand—it sliced a streak through the sand and grazed Coss's arm. Blood sprayed…

But Coss didn't stop.

He roared.

Both hands on the axe, he gathered his entire strength and slammed it downward—a blow that carved half a meter into the earth and sent tremors across the beach. A nearby survivor was blasted into a rock, skull split open on impact.

Lucky appeared, teleporting behind Coss, slashing in a spiral motion.

Three strikes—one on the arm, one on the back, one on the shoulder.

Coss staggered. Blood poured like a waterfall.

But he turned, swinging the blunt side of the axe—smashing Lucky in the chest. The old man flew nearly ten meters, crashing into a boulder, leaving a long trail of blood.

From afar, Sun saw it.

She hurled a ball of light, spiraling mid-air before exploding next to Coss's ear—the blast singed part of his hair and face. He screamed, burnt flesh peeling from his skin—but he still laughed.

Coss (hoarse):

"Good one. That's enough. Now… I'll show you what real pain is."

He stomped.

A quake shook the beach—dust and sand exploded around his feet.

He charged Dathweet again.

Dathweet shifted his stance—left hand gathering energy, right hand gripping the ancestral blade—spun in a flaming arc, forming an X-shaped cross slash with both blades.

Slash!

Coss's chest ripped open, exposing bone on one side. But while any other man would've collapsed, Coss kept going.

He kicked Dathweet in the stomach—a brutal hit that sent him flying, spinning through the air, crashing onto the rocks. Blood sprayed from his mouth.

Dathweet stood up—eyes bloodshot, face smeared in gore, lips cracked.

He roared, gathering every last bit of energy into his left hand—the sword energy compressed into a twin-edged dagger, and he launched forward.

Coss charged too.

Two maniacs, colliding in a storm of blood, sand, and wind.

BOOM!

Swords slashed. Axes crashed.

One blow cut diagonally across Dathweet's back.

Another stab pierced straight through Coss's gut.

Metal screamed.

Dathweet carved deep into Coss's hip, driving the ancestral blade into his pelvis. Coss howled, swinging his axe in return—slamming it into Dathweet's abdomen.

CRACK!

Blood gushed. Dathweet's belly split open, a segment of his intestine spilled out, dangling in the sand and blood.

He dropped to one knee. But his grip never loosened.

Coss panted.

"I won't kill you… I need you. You'll serve a greater purpose."

Dathweet whispered, blood bubbling at his lips:

"I feel the same… But too bad… you won't live to see it."

He ripped the blade upward.

SHHHK!

Coss screamed—the blade slashed from his hip up to his chest, severing a lung. He staggered.

Dathweet's left hand gathered sword energy—then punched directly into the open wound.

SPLAT!

Blood exploded in a crimson fountain.

Coss collapsed.

No more laughter.

No more growling.

Just a massive body twitching in the sand.

The ship's horn sounded.

Lucky, his arm broken, led the survivors in retreat. The remaining infected still charged like rabid dogs, but Sun cast two more radiant spheres, forming shields to clear a path.

Someone screamed:

"THE SHIP'S LEAVING! HURRY!"

Ropes dropped from the decks above. Survivors climbed up in chaos. Some slipped—dragged down by infected. Others lost limbs but still clung to the ladders with bloodied hands.

Dathweet, guts spilling, crawled toward the ship.

His vision blurred—but he saw a hand reaching toward him.

Lyun.

"Dathweet! Take my hand!"

He grabbed it. Her hand was cold—but firm.

She pulled him aboard.

Just then — a ship behind them exploded. The infected had crawled up from the engine hold and slaughtered everyone who hadn't made it out in time.

One ship lost. One damaged. One filled with the wounded.

In total — only a little over a hundred people remained alive.

Dathweet lay stretched out on the floor of the ship. His eyes closed, his gut wrapped hastily with a cloak. Lyun sat beside him, holding his hand.

The sea breeze blew. Blood stuck to the deck. The living sat among the dead.

But at least… they were leaving.

Nearly two hours passed. The ship continued to glide in silence. Though they were now dozens of nautical miles from shore, the island's silhouette was still visible in the distance — a faint dark smudge beneath the blazing sky.

And then — a massive beam of light struck down from the sky onto the island.

"BOOOOM!!!"

A blinding white light tore the sky apart, slamming into the center of the island. The entire landmass trembled, cracked open, then shattered into pieces like crystal under the feet of gods. A devastating shockwave rippled outward — the sea erupted, waves surging so violently the ship rocked heavily, even from kilometers away.

The island vanished. As if it had never existed.

The final wave crashed into the hull, causing the deck to shudder. Some people stumbled and fell. No one said anything. Only eyes fixed on the horizon… and tears.

The survivors began to cry. They held each other — those who had seemed broken beyond repair by that hell… now glimpsed the light. Some collapsed on the wooden floor, sobbing without a sound. Some laughed. Some tilted their faces to the sky and whispered thanks.

Names were called out — but no one answered anymore.

Dathweet stood at the ship's edge, holding his still-bleeding wound beneath the bandages. The sea breeze lashed his face, salty and cold. Beside him, Lyun stood silently, her eyes also fixed on the ocean where the island once was.

Dathweet (softly):

"What do we do now, Lyun?"

Lyun turned to him, smiling gently.

Lyun:

"If you don't mind… could you stay in Holid with me? I mean, if you want to return to your homeland, I'd be willing to go with you too."

Dathweet:

"…I'll stay. With you. I'll… try to be someone good enough to walk through life with you."

Lyun smiled, her eyes glistening.

Lyun:

"Promise me, okay? No empty promises."

They both laughed. As if everything had passed. As if they truly had a future.

But then — Sun approached.

Sun (looking directly at him):

"Who are you talking to so tenderly? Some people are still scared… they don't dare bring it up."

Dathweet frowned:

"What do you mean? I'm talking to Lyun. She's right here…"

He pointed. Right in front of him.

Sun (silent for a moment, then gently):

"…There's no one there. You can ask anyone on this ship."

Dathweet forced a smile. Like he didn't understand.

He turned to look at Lyun — she was still there, very real, very close. He reached out, gently touched her shoulder…

…there was sensation.

Dathweet (coldly):

"She's real. Don't mess with me like that. It's not funny."

Sun remained calm:

"Ask someone else."

A moment of silence. Then Dathweet turned again. But…

Lyun was gone.

His eyes scanned the ship — she wasn't there. Not anywhere. No trace.

Panic hit.

"LYUN?! LYUN?!"

He rushed from person to person, urgently asking:

"The girl who was with me? Where is she?! She was just here! Black hair, small frame, soft smile…"

People… only shook their heads. Avoided his gaze, fearful.

Some stepped back, whispering to each other. A soldier pulled his daughter closer, shielding her eyes.

Lucky stepped forward, voice deep and firm:

Lucky:

"There's no one named Lyun on this ship. You've been imagining her for a long time."

Dathweet panicked:

"No way. She was just there. She was real—"

Lucky:

"You've just been through hell. We understand. But please, don't shake the others more than they already are."

Dathweet screamed:

"LYUN!!!"

He shouted until his voice cracked, eyes bloodshot. No one answered. Only the sound of the waves and the ropes flapping in the wind.

Then he dropped to his knees. Slowly. And began… slamming his head against the deck.

Once. Twice. Blood spilled from his forehead. Old wounds burst open. His whole body trembled, but he didn't stop.

"Lyun…"

"…don't leave me…"

On the seventh strike, his head hit the deck and stayed down. Blood pooled around him.

And he… lost consciousness.

Dathweet awoke.

He found himself lying in a private medical room, quiet and clean. Soft light filtered in through a small window.

No more screaming, no more scent of blood, no more metal scraping sounds.

Perhaps… this was a form of respect — for someone who had borne a war on his back.

He was no longer frantic. No longer calling Lyun's name.

He just looked around quietly, searching for a trace of silence amidst the fading storm.

Then… he lay back, staring at the ceiling.

After a while, he murmured:

Dathweet:

"…You knew she wasn't real, didn't you, Ken?"

A pause. In his mind, Ken's voice slowly emerged, hesitant.

Ken (slowly):

(I knew. But I couldn't say it. Because… I was born to make you happy. Even if it was just false happiness.)

Dathweet said nothing.

He only sighed, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

Outside the window, sunlight quietly drifted across the wall.

The door opened.

A man entered.

He wore a white coat, composed demeanor, eyes tired but alert — clearly a doctor.

Doctor:

"You're stable now, right?"

Dathweet:

"I am. But… is there something serious about my body? For you to come personally…"

Doctor:

"Yes. And it is quite serious.

I just ran a full scan, and found microscopic organisms in your brain — slowly corroding it, like a kind of… biological cancer."

Dathweet:

"They caused my hallucination?"

Doctor:

"Possibly. But I don't think that's the whole story. I'm no brain expert, but from what I've seen, the girl you saw… she's likely a product of past trauma.

Those organisms… only made her clearer, more vivid, and appear more frequently."

Dathweet:

"…So my brain is being eaten away, and yet I still have my sanity?"

Doctor:

"You possess a rare regenerative trait. Neural cells heal rapidly. But… don't rely on it too much. It won't last forever."

Dathweet:

"But when was I infected? How long have I lived with it?"

Doctor:

"Unclear. You could've gotten it on the island. Or… a long time ago."

He gave a nod and left the room.

Dathweet stayed a while longer. Eyes still open.

He looked out the window. Waves rolled in, sunlight gleamed.

As if… nothing had ever happened.

He stepped out. Onto the deck.

The sea breeze hit his face, salty — but this time, not the taste of blood.

He stood there. Watching the waves.

Dathweet:

"Anything you want to say to me, Ken?"

Ken:

(I don't know what to say. But if I had to guess… I think it came from the knife Jinna stabbed you with.)

Dathweet:

"But that was a year ago. How could you not notice?"

Ken:

(You and I… are different.

When I'm in control, the body is pushed to its limits — healing, reflexes, everything. But you… are not.

Because… you don't fully understand Redsol. And you haven't truly touched the core of your power.)

The wind continued to blow.

Dathweet didn't reply.

But he stood longer than he meant to.

Because deep down, he felt… that after this fall, he'd never fully wake again.

The ship neared port.

In the distance, Holid's mainland emerged, faint beneath the morning sun.

The survivors were overjoyed — some laughed, some cried, finally safe.

Dathweet stood silently by the rail.

His gaze drifted far across the sea, as if hoping the wind and waves might carry away the fragments still echoing in his mind.

A stranger approached, quiet as a shadow.

Stranger (softly):

"Get ready to jump. Ras is waiting."

He vanished before anyone could notice.

Dathweet glanced around the deck. A few soldiers were watching the stern.

No hesitation — he climbed over the railing and plunged into the sea.

The cold water stabbed at his stomach wound.

He tried to swim farther from the ship, but exhaustion clawed at him.

Just as he began to sink, an invisible hand pulled him upward.

A small boat emerged from the waves — cloaked in near-perfect camouflage, only visible up close.

Inside sat Ras.

Dathweet (gasping):

"I thought… I wouldn't see you again."

Ras (offering a towel, faint smile):

"I was afraid I wouldn't make it in time."

Dathweet:

"So… they really were planning to take me in?"

Ras (nods):

"Yes. Because you carry Redsol blood."

Dathweet:

"…And someone gave them my info."

Ras:

"I know. It doesn't matter who."

Dathweet (smirking):

"Figures… I suspected it. Surprised I could still think straight."

Ras (chuckles):

"Must be my genes."

The boat veered south, away from Holid's waters — avoiding the port, heading toward the Human Kingdom, Dathweet's homeland.

The journey would take a day.

The sea was calm, the sky a pale endless blue.

The boat glided smoothly, but inside the cabin… the air was heavy like lead.

Ras sat across from his son, arms folded.

Dathweet leaned back against the wooden wall, his eyes distant.

Ras:

"So… a brain-eating infection? I'll find someone skilled enough to help."

Dathweet (softly, shaking his head):

"There's no one. If it's already deep in the brain… then it's over. In this age, brain damage means death."

Ras grew silent. Then, in a low voice:

"…There's one way. But it's reckless. You'd have to be burned alive — kill the bacteria with extreme heat. Your body would die.

But if Ken reacts fast enough, he could trigger recovery before your brain fully shuts down.

It's a gamble… either you live, or there's nothing left."

Dathweet (looking up):

"If it works… Ken dies, and I survive?"

Ras:

"That's right. But I won't recommend it. Not to anyone thinking clearly."

Dathweet (quiet laugh):

"Is there really any other way? I can't live with this thing in my head forever.

Even if it's a gamble… let me choose."

Ras said nothing.

He turned his face away. He knew his son was right. And he had no promises left to offer.

Later, Dathweet stepped onto the deck, eyes scanning the open water.

The waves shimmered, and the sun dipped slowly toward the horizon.

Dathweet:

"…Are you afraid of dying, Ken?"

Ken (his voice steady, echoing inside):

(I'm not. I'd give my life for you — even if we haven't had much time together.)

Dathweet (whispering):

"You're the one I trust most right now.

But maybe… this really is the only way."

Ken:

(It is. But don't worry about me.

I exist to support you. If this is what it takes… I accept it.)

Dathweet (nodding faintly):

"Then… before the flames, let's return. One last time. To face what we left behind."

Ken:

(Alright.)

They fell silent.

Only the wind and the slowing rhythm of the waves kept time — carrying them toward a place that could be rebirth… or the end.

— End of Chapter —