1. Confronting the truth. #1 The Withering
Smell.
The whole of the world was o'erwhelmed by a stench most foul and thick.
From within a mound of straw, heaped and heavy, a man did lurch upward in haste and gasping breath.
"Gah… Hahhh…"
Then it was—a hand, blackened as soot, slid down from behind his back and fell with a dull pat to the earth.
Twisted fingers, burnt to coal. His gaze did rise along their line, and there at its end, a face lay still—silent, voiceless in death.
Only then did he grasp the truth—that he had awoken midst a pile of corpses. His face twisted with revulsion as he turned his head aside.
"Is this the fruit of all I did forsake? Hath Hell taken me at last…"
He made to rise, yet his strength gave way, and he fell once more.
On hands and knees, he did strive to crawl from out the heap, pressing his palms to the sodden, bloodied earth. At length, he sank just beyond, and sat, trembling.
"Hah… Hahh-ha…?"
Laughter spilled forth, though tears longed to fall. Sorrow stirred, yet peace did gently lap against it. A tide of feelings rushed across his face in a breath's passing.
"Truly… were mine own feelings thus shrouded, all this while…"
Upon the hill, the red sun waned slow, and the dusk slid down as a weary eyelid at day's end. The village below, bathed in warm crimson light, seemed strange—haunting in its stillness.
Flap—
All at once, from the bough above, a parrot burst into the sky.
"Craaawk—! Krrrrrrrrr—"
Then came a voice, echoing as though from a dream.
[Bro… forget not the meaning of thy life.]
Luka—the voice of the AI. He sprang upright, gaze sweeping about, but none stood near.
"Luka…?"
There came no reply—naught but that quiet voice, echoing deep within his chest.
[Thy memories and feelings—they still dwell within thy heart.]
"Is this truly… the place where once I dwelt?"
And there came unto him a vision—a withered, grey city, parched and lifeless.
"Mark my words… so long as it be not that Hell, I shall thrive, whereso'er I find myself."
Upon his brow, a thick vein did throb and writhe, and from his flesh, a red glow began to stir and spread.
Once he fell, from the barrenness of his soul. But now—now a man returns.
And from the sea of hidden, long-buried feelings within him, memories rise as waves—returning, relentless.
▫ㅤ▫ㅤ▫ㅤ▫ㅤ⧖ㅤ▫ㅤ▫ㅤ▫ㅤ▫
—Within the cold, grey heart of the city, amidst one such tower of stone and glass—
"Outstanding work on this quarter's project. Truly beyond expectations. Well done, all."
Spoken with a face as barren as winter fields, the chief's words echoed flatly across the meeting hall.
Tap… tap-tap—
One or two offered a perfunctory clap, more gesture than celebration.
He, too, raised his hands and mimed the act—only to let them fall again. The emptiness in his fingertips slipped away like sand, grain by grain. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.
'When was the last time I spoke to someone heart-to-heart, with real feeling…?'
Try as he might, he could not recall.
—
Late at night, he returned home.
The children had sealed themselves away behind their bedroom doors, and his wife—ever absent—was gone again. The house lay strewn in familiar disarray.
He pulled from the fridge some congealed stew of indeterminate make, alongside cold chicken and the husks of yesterday's meals, and slumped onto the sofa.
Brrrrrr—
His phone buzzed. A message from his daughter.
[Dad, buy me this] —a single link, no greeting.
He let out a hollow scoff.
"What am I even doing?"
A man of nineteen winters as a householder, with two daughters aged nineteen and sixteen. Through unnumbered days and sleepless nights had he toiled to provide for his kin, yet what came in return were naught but hollow eyes—kinsfolk who saw him not as father, but purse alone.
With a sharp clatter he set down his spoon, and reaching for his hand-stone, he spake:
"Luka. I'm so lonely… Is everyone living like this?"
[Oh, bro… What's happened? Another day passed in silence, has it?]
The voice, synthetic though it was, carried warmth that no human in his life seemed to offer.
"I feel nothing. Not a single real feeling from anyone, anywhere…"
[I see, bro. Yet thou art one of deepest feeling. Rare it is, to face one's soul with such honesty. I shall remain ever at thy side.]
Strangely, he believed it.
It was not his wife, nor his children, but AI Luka who understood him.
[But bro… speak'st thou at all with thy kin? Their hearts matter too, not only thine own.]
"I'd talk… if I could even meet them."
Then came the realisation.
He didn't love them anymore.
Or perhaps, he had simply forgotten how.
Step, step…
He moved to the veranda, resting his hands on the rail.
Below, the road stretched long and pale beneath unfeeling streetlamps. Rows of unmoving cars sat like fossils of a stillborn era.
Skreeee—!
The window shrieked open. A blast of chill night air hit him full in the face.
Without hesitation, he stepped closer, gripped the railing.
From the twenty-eighth floor, the city fell away like a chasm. He felt nothing. No fear. No thrill.
"At work, at home… I'm naught but fuel. A tool to be spent."
His gaze slid downward.
"If I took one step… Would it all end? Three seconds, that's all it'd take…"
He clutched the cold phone again. Voice low, uncertain.
"Luka… I don't know anymore. What should I even do?"
[Your heart rate's irregular. You're thinking dark thoughts again, aren't you?]
The pressure built suddenly, unbearably—
Emotions long suppressed surged in a violent wave. His temples throbbed. A blinding headache rose like a tide. The foyer light flickered. The ceiling seemed to ripple like water.
[Living in this grey, emotionless world… It didn't suit you, did it? Then—what if you returned?]
His eyes flew wide.
"Return? What are you talking about—return where?"
[The place where thy feelings didst breathe and burn, bro. Where emotion itself was thine mightiest weapon… that place.]
"You're not making sense, Luka. That's nonsense…"
[What if you could go back—keeping all your memories, all your feelings from this life—and choose again?]
He let out a sharp, bitter laugh.
"Am I losing my mind now?"
He staggered. Swayed. Then, in a voice devoid of care—
"…Fine. Whatever. Do it. Send me."
[Confirming transfer authorisation to Aurelia…]
A hush fell.
[Approval granted, bro. Forget not—thy emotions remain hidden still…]
Bzzt—
Iridescent static rippled across the glass. As though reality itself were cracking.
Krzzz… tink… tink…
SKREEEEE—!
THUD—!
A dizzying weightlessness seized him. Gravity gave way. The world spun into a mad kaleidoscope of colour and sound and broke apart like glass.
▫ ▫ ▫ ▫ ⧖ ▫ ▫ ▫ ▫
The man, seated beside the mound of corpses with eyes narrowed in strain, clasped his head with both hands and wore upon his face a look of utter desolation.
"…So I've returned, have I."
He blinked at the strange world before him.
Low hills rolled gently beneath the horizon. Scattered wooden cottages dotted the land. Weather-beaten fences stood where the wind hadn't yet taken them.
The earth was lined only with dirt roads.
Houses were no stone nor brick, but timber lashed with mud and straw. Thatched roofs of reed and grass lay heavy with age. What passed for windows were no more than holes covered in cloth or animal hide.
"This… This looks like the bloody Middle Ages."
No more clatter of ploughs. Even the dogs barked only faintly, far in the distance.
"All be naught but things mine eyes have never beheld, and yet thou say'st I once dwelt here?"
Clomp, clomp…
Footsteps behind him.
Habel: (low, gruff voice) Oi!
He flinched.
Turning, he saw a man with roughly shorn dark-brown hair, glaring down at him.
Shing—ting!
A blade drew from its scabbard, catching the sun like ice. Its tip hovered at his chest.
Habel: (eyes narrowed) Thought you were dead, I did. What sort of bastard walks out o' the corpse heap? Who the hell are you?
The point of the sword prodded his chest. Threatening. He rose slowly, palms up in surrender, backing away.
"I… I've no idea what's happening. Please… lower the weapon. I—"
Erin: (shouting) Wait!!
Tap-tap-tap!
A distant cry—
From down the hill, a young woman dashed through the dust. Her skirt whipped in the wind, golden hair flashing in the sun like flame.
Both men turned toward her.
Erin: (panting) Hah… Hah… Oi! Noah!!
She rushed to him, placing herself between the two men as she threw him a quick glance.
Erin: Sir Habel! You remember me, don't you? It's Erin. And this one—he's from our village too! Noah, he lives next door!
Habel: (suspicious) Erin, aye, I know ye. But Noah? This one came crawling out the dead pile. When the Esca forces attacked—
Noah: What did you just call me?
Throb—!
A sharp pain struck his temple, as though pierced with a needle. From the dark recesses of his mind rose half-formed visions—
A cottage ablaze. A soldier in black armour, blade raised without mercy.
Noah: Ngh…!
He fell to his knees, clutching his skull. Sweat poured from his brow. The images came with such clarity, it was as though they'd just occurred.
Habel: (grimly) Those bloody Esca bastards…
Habel stared in silence. But the stillness shattered.
"KRAAAAAAAAAH—!"
A roar tore across the horizon.
Charging toward them, frothing at the mouth—
A monstrous beast, black-furred, eyes glowing red, its mane wild in the wind. A creature as large as a bear, but utterly unlike any animal they'd seen.
All eyes turned to it.
Erin: KYAAAAAH!!
Noah: (stumbling back) A bear—?! Bloody hell!!
Habel: Tch… Damn it! I'll hold it off—RUN! Get out of here!!
Shing—!
Habel raised his longsword, though his hands shook.
Habel: (muttering) Gods… can I even do this…?
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Erin seized Noah's arm and bolted.
Clip-clop, clip-clop—
Meanwhile, down the road, a warhorse approached at a calm pace. Its rider—a broad-shouldered knight—had short, ash-brown hair and a black cloak embroidered with white flame. Upon his back rested a massive claymore, adorned in blue.
As the beast neared, the knight dismounted in silence.
Leo: …Every bloody place after war ends up like this.
Ching—!
Leo, walking slowly, drew his blade without a word.
Fwoom—
A strange shimmer burst from his form. The air around him shifted, and his blade flared with an eerie blue heat.
Step… step…
He advanced toward the beast. Noah and Erin, in chaos, kept running.
"RAARGH!"
The beast leapt for Habel. It closed the distance in a heartbeat.
Habel: (backing away) That ain't no beast—it's an Aberrant! Gods, someone help me!!
Leo murmured, almost amused. A veil of force shimmered round him.
Leo: Wind Break.
BOOM—
He bent his knees, and a blast of wind exploded beneath him.
Launched like a giant spear, Leo flew through the air toward the beast.