My gaze flickers, it’s a struggle just to keep my eyes open, drowsiness is taking over. I strained all my energy and even then, I’m unable to kill the horde. I can’t pass out now, not when she is here. My hazy mind fails me, is she a friend or foe? Targets, what does she mean by that? My ck of understanding of the situation seems to displease her further.

  She clicks her tongue. “What are you even doing here?” Her eyes narrow, so does the eyes dotting her wing.

  “Maybe I’m in the process to finding the meaning of life, maybe camping, or maybe I’m just looking for the thrill of killing things, who knows.” I force out a chuckle, this is the best I can do for an answer.

  If she shes out at me the way the horde did when I mentioned the maiden, I’m done for. I don’t stand a chance against her—not in this state.

  “So, unwilling to give an answer. What are you hiding?” she asks, each word ced with disdain and annoyance. Her wing shifts, hovering above my neck, the jagged edge shimmering like fractured gss. Simply put, it’s a silent threat of: “Depending on your answer, I’ll decapitate you.”

  ‘Wow, talk about karma biting my ass back.’ This scene is familiar, isn’t it? Although I might be going out quick if she decides to execute me. Her wing is sharp, the slightest end of it pricks my skin, and blood trickles down my neck—joining the crimson sand.

  I heave out a sigh, trying to release some tension building up in my body. It works, albeit barely. “I am here to entertain,” I manage to croak out, although shaking.

  Her eyes widen ever so slightly, I’m surprised I made her so. And I can’t exactly bme her if she thinks I’m a crazed person with no sanity left. “Expin,” she says, her gaze unwavering, as though daring the world to make sense.

  At least she’s willing to reason. “Well,” I begin cautiously, “I would, but could you… remove your wing first? It’s a little hard to talk with a bde at my throat. Look, I’ll even throw my weapon away.”

  The glimmering sheen exits my vision, and I toss out my dagger I’ve been clutching desperately onto. “Thank you,” I say, forcing myself upright despite the protests of my battered body. Stretching stiff joints, I try to gather what little composure I have left.

  I catch a glimpse of her reaction—her eyes soften, just barely, a flicker of… sympathy. Her wing retracts, the jagged edges folding inward. The eyes scattered across it close in unison, a gesture that feels almost like an offering of peace.

  My mouth parts, but words fail to leave me. Is it my tiredness? Weariness? Drowsiness? Or… have I simply been charmed by her? I never sound this fancy, but I feel like it’d be an insult if I did not thought like so.

  She sees my silence as me trying to reason, though. “No need,” she says softly, though her voice still holds the hollow and cold when she first spoke. “I’ve seen enough. You’re free to do as you wish.” With a graceful motion, she kicks the dagger back to me.

  All the tension has left my body. “Huh…?” I lean forward to get it back, twirling it around absentmindedly before looking at her with what I could describe best as a dumbfounded expression. I mean, she was completely hostile moments ago, and now… this?

  “A newcomer,” she says, more to herself than to me as she nods at her own statement. Has my obliviousness shown her something? She turns away from me, her voice cuts through the numbing cold. “I’ll be returning now. I wish you good luck.”

  Something is missing. I can ask her something—I need something from her. But why can’t I remember? What is it I’ve forgotten?

  In this empty space, the rhythmic sound of her footsteps, the soft brushing of her dress against the sand—are the only things I can focus on, the only things anchoring me. Have I gone mad? What is this feeling? Did the ck of human touch had a part in this? As she drifts further away, each step leaving trails, my eyes began to droop—so does my body. It almost falls in to the temptation, until it all comes back to me.

  “Our—”

  “—??????P?????r?????o??????m??????i??????s??????e???????.?????”

  A smirk tugs at my lips. ‘You’re here too. Thank you for reminding me.’ Pain radiates through every inch of me as I stand up, but I manage to push past it. “You! Wait up, please! I need—” A well timed tumble into the sand interrupted my plea, as I trip onto thin air, like those horror movies. The coarse grains stick to my skin, clinging to the cold sweat.

  I push myself up, coughing and spitting sand, and shout again, though my voice cracks. “Answers! I need them…” Another coughing fit rips through me, but I see her stop in the distance. She doesn’t turn, but her stillness tells me she’s willing to listen. “Do… you know who the God of this realm is?” That’s the first clue I have, the horde mentions her as a God. Did she hear my words? I hope she did. I can’t strain out any more energy.

  My promise—to her, to myself—I can’t waste this chance, the one she created for me.

  My vision blurs and darkens as my legs finally give out. I crumble to the ground once more, my strength utterly spent. “Take… this…” I rasp, my voice barely audible. Knowing it’s futile to crawl in this state, I reach into my pocket with trembling fingers, pulling out the pendant. With the st of my energy, I y it in front of me.

  This is my second clue, the only other lead I have. It’s also my st chance to stir a response from her. ‘Please, let it be enough.’

  My consciousness slips away, the final image burned into my mind is her turning to gaze at me. I can’t see her expression though. Will she come back to help me? Or will she just watch me fade away? Who knows. I’m tired. I need rest.

  ***

  ‘I’m back here again…’ I stare into the nothingness above, back to where I belong, the Void. It has become some sort of a save haven for me, I wonder if time works differently here. If I stay, does the world outside of here keeps going? I hope that’s the case. I pn to stay here and… sort my feelings.

  “Why do you have to do this now, of all times?” My voice trembles as I clutch—no, cw—at my chest. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed, crushed by an unseen force. The sensation isn’t new, but this time… something is different.

  Ivory liquid trickles from between my fingers, slipping down my arm before falling through the imaginary ptform I’m sitting on. It vanishes into the Void below, leaving no trace. Only I can exist and stand on this imaginary ptform, it seems.

  “Huh…?” My voice wavers as I watch the trickle become a torrent. Gallons of blood pour from my chest, as if a gaping hole has been torn through me. My mind falters, the suffocating sensation overwhelming me. I try to crawl away, but the blood follows.

  I look down and freeze.

  My ribcage is gone. A part of my chest vanished. There’s nothing holding me together, nothing protecting the floating organs that somehow still function. How am I standing? Why aren’t I colpsing? Why am I still alive?!

  “Stop!!! Please!!!” I shout, but to what? Nothing will help me. The Void? Hah, it’s enjoying my suffering. I can’t think straight—not for long. My thoughts spiral, drowning in terror, until they’re nothing but static.

  Then, something shifts.

  A foreign sensation blooms within me, alien and wrong. Something is growing.

  I retch, bile spilling onto the ptform and falling through. The nausea twists into pure horror as I feel movement inside my stomach. My skin stretches, tears, as something begins to rise.

  I throw up onto the ptform, and it pierces through yet again. Something is rising from my stomach, a hand—slick with liquid from my body, holds on to the edge of my teared chest.

  A hand—slick with blood and body fluid—emerges from the ragged cavity of my chest. Its fingers curl, gripping the jagged edges of my torn body, pulling itself upward.

  “Kill me! Just kill me please! Make it stop!” As if hearing my wishes, the hand slithers out of my cavity and gets a good grasp on my head, its bloody palm sitting on my face. It rattles me, smming my head from side to side with complete ease. At least death should come soon.

  The fingers tighten, and thumb is the first to crack my skull. That’s the st thing I could feel in the Void. All the fingers breaking my face apart.

  ***

  “Aah!!” I wake up with a scream enough to deter death itself. My chest heaves as beads of sweat trickle down from my forehead, dripping onto—stone?

  My hand brushes against the cool, solid surface beneath me. Stone… floor? This shouldn’t exist in the realm I was in. Did something change during my bckout? My gaze darts around frantically, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. I’m in a new pce—a modernized cave, if such a thing exists. The walls are polished stone, and carved stones make up various pieces of furniture scattered throughout. The one I’m sitting on is… a couch? Polished, cold, and unsettlingly pristine.

  “Where the hell is this…?” The question hangs heavy in the air, unanswered.

  As the initial shock subsides, it’s quickly repced by an overwhelming rush of anxiety. The dam breaks, and the floodwaters come crashing in. “Not now…” I feel around my chest and stomach. Good, they’re still intact. No holes, my ribcage is in pce and… I supress a gag at the thought. ‘Don’t remember that. Forget it, mind forget…’

  A voice more chilling than the stone breaks my train of thought. “Bad dream?”

  I snap my head toward the sound and see her—the angel. Now that no fatigue is wearing down my eyesight, I can truly take in her presence. She’s… divine. The broken wing doesn’t detract from her beauty—it enhances it, an elegance that pulls at something deep inside me. I feel my cheeks grow warm, a faint heat rising as my tangled emotions slows its pace and begins to fade off.

  “Y-Yes… sorry, I was pretty loud,” I stammer, lowering my head instinctively. I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes. A part of me whispers that I’m not worthy to look upon her, not worthy to be in her presence. It’s a cliché thought, I know, but I suppose it’s the truth. Unworthy. That’s exactly how I feel.

  “Where am I exactly?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly as a small knot tightens in my chest.

  “My realm. I brought you here,” she replies, her tone steady, almost indifferent.

  The knot in my chest twists into a choking loop, constricting around my heart. My hand grips the fabric of my leather robe so tightly my knuckles turn white. Ragged gasps escape my lips as panic starts to overwhelm me.

  “Calm down… I won’t hurt you. You asked for my help,” she says softly, her voice dipping into a soothing cadence.

  The words break through the fog of fear, her tone grounding me. Slowly, I feel myself stabilizing, my breathing evening out as the knot loosens its grip on my chest. How pathetic I am. I asked for her help, only to let my paranoia twist it into accusations that she’d hurt me. Fuck, am I cruel. I swallow hard, forcing down the lump of shame that rises in my throat, along with my pride.

  I hear her moving around the room, the soft shuffle of her steps against the stone. I don’t look up. My head stays bowed, my eyes locked on the floor. “You look terrible. Eat,” she says, her tone sharp and commanding as she sets down a pte—meant for me.

  I gnce up, uncertain if this gesture is real. She notices my hesitation immediately, and it clearly doesn’t sit well with her. Her eyes narrow. “Eat. Else I’ll drag you there myself,” she snaps, her words cold, carrying enough weight to send shivers down my spine.

  My body moves before my mind can catch up, autopiloting toward the carved table as though compelled by instinct. ‘Why can’t I just follow simple orders like that?’ I wonder bitterly, settling into the seat without further protest. It’s a piece of bread with some… something on the side. The texture looks unappealing, and I don’t want to question it further. Tearing off a piece of the bread, I scoop some of the slurry with it and take a bite. “Mhh…” It’s good—far better than it looks. The taste is comforting, simple. I’ve had far worse in my past life—mostly my cooking though.

  “It’s nothing much, but I hope it’s better than the stuff you had to eat down there,” she says. Her tone is as bnk as her expression, devoid of warmth but also without malice.

  “It tastes goo—” The words catch in my throat, cutting me off as I choke on my sentence. Something crashes over me, sudden and unrelenting. I forgot about her. Her words. Her promise. My promise. Our promise.

  She’s probably out there—still suffering, still waiting for me. And here I am, sitting in comfort, enjoying a warm meal. The bread in my hand feels heavy, leaden, and the once pleasant taste now feels cloying, sickening.

  The feelings I thought I’d buried resurface with a vengeance, cwing their way up from the pit of my stomach. The weight unbearable as guilt and shame coil around my heart like barbed wire. My breathing quickens, each inhale feeling shallow and wrong.

  My thoughts splinter, fragments of promises and failures swirling chaotically. The meal turns into an act of betrayal, a moment of indulgence while she endures something far worse. How fucking cruel I am. The walls of my sanity feel thin, fragile, cracking under the weight of self-loathing and helplessness.

  I put the bread down, the simple act feeling like I’m settling a crushing weight onto the table. My hand tremble as I struggle to hold myself steady. “I’m sorry, but… do you have a room where I can stay alone? Please, I beg you.” My voice cracks, barely audible, heavy with desperation. I must look utterly pathetic—pleading, teetering on the edge of breaking completely.

  “…There is one down the hallway. It’s a guest room, so feel free to use it however you wish,” she says after a pause. Her tone remains neutral, but I can’t see her face. Everything feels blurry, as though my mind refuses to let me focus. My heart clenches at the thought—she must be disappointed, must think I’m ungrateful.

  I choke on the lingering taste of her food, hurriedly setting it aside as I stumble to my feet. She probably thinks I hated it so much I couldn’t bear to finish. How cruel must I seem to her? Someone who offered me kindness, only to be met with rejection and shame.

  “I’m sorry… thank you…” I whisper, my voice nearly inaudible as I turn to leave. The guilt cws at my throat, tightening its grip until it feels like I’m suffocating. My feet move of their own accord, carrying me down the hallway. Each step feels heavier than the st, like trudging through quicksand.

  My breaths become shallow, uneven, until they finally erupt into choked sobs

  The walls seem to close in, pressing down on me with every step. My vision swims, and the sound of my footsteps echoes in my ears, louder and louder, blending with the relentless loop of self-loathing in my mind. ‘Why am I this much of a failure? Why can’t I fix this?’

  I break into a run, each stride a burst of anguish as if I can escape the feelings cwing at my chest. But the guilt follows, relentless and suffocating, until I can barely breathe. My sobs deepen, ragged and uncontrolble, as I stumble into the door at the end of the hallway, desperate for the isotion I hope will swallow me whole.

  I sm the door behind me with a resounding thud that echoes through the room. Was that too loud? Too much force? The thought cws at me immediately. Will she think I’m angry now, furious with her for some imagined slight? Did I just make things worse?

  “Of course I did. Of course…” I choke out, the words strangled as tears begin streaming freely down my face. My body trembles as the emotions hit all at once, relentless and suffocating. I try to make it to the bed in the corner, but my legs fail halfway. I colpse to the cold floor, curling in on myself, small and broken.

  Fail. Failure. The word pounds against my skull, a hammer driving home the same truth I’ve heard a thousand times. It always follows me, clinging to every step, every breath. “Why am I this much of a failure…” I cry out, the sound ragged, desperate. But there’s no one to answer me. There’s no one left.

  Of course not. I’ve pushed them all away. Everyone who wanted to help, everyone who needed my help—I’ve driven them away, left them behind. I’ve failed them all.

  Her voice echoes in my mind, haunting. “You’ll save me, won’t you?”

  I cw at my chest, nails digging into the fabric of my robe, into my skin. The pain is sharp, grounding, but not enough to drown out her words. “Hehe, I know you will.” Her confidence was radiant, unwavering, she truly believed I could save her.

  And yet here I am. Wallowing in another realm, feasting on a warm meal, forgetting her.

  Forgetting her.

  The thought breaks something deep inside me. A scream rips from my throat, tearing through the quiet room. My tears come harder, faster, blurring my vision as I curl in tighter, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to shield myself from the crushing weight of guilt.

  My body shakes violently, wracked by sobs, my breath catching and hitching as though the very act of existing is too much to bear.

  Her voice lingers in my mind, her trust, her hope, now a jagged knife twisting in my chest. I’ve failed her. I’ve failed myself. I’ve failed them all.

  Everything is unraveling. The floor beneath me, the walls around me—they dissolve into nothingness. I feel weightless, untethered, as if I’ve been pulled back into the Void. It’s everywhere, consuming, infinite. “I’m sorry… forgive me, please…” The words spill from my lips, over and over, broken and desperate, like a damaged cassette stuck in a loop.

  “You must be hurting.”

  The voice cuts through the darkness, calm and steady, shattering the Void. It’s her—the angel’s voice. Why is she here? Why would she come for someone like me?

  “Wait, what are you—” My protest is silenced as she kneels beside me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close to her chest. The warmth of her touch seeps through the cold numbness that grips me, a sensation so foreign it feels almost unreal.

  My emotions csh violently, crashing into one another. A part of me wants to give in, to colpse into her embrace and cry out everything I’ve been holding in. The other half screams to push her away, to tell her I don’t deserve this, to remind her that I’m unworthy of comfort. ‘Why is she doing this? Why? Why?’

  “Shh… Don’t think. You’re safe,” she murmurs, her voice soft and unyielding.

  Her wing folds around me, jagged and broken yet somehow still whole, enclosing me in a cocoon of warmth. It’s almost suffocating, but in the best way. I feel small, fragile, but protected, like a child being held close for the first time in an eternity. Her hand brushes through my hair, slow and deliberate, each stroke unraveling the knots of tension in my body. The gentleness of her touch is almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the world I’ve known. Even her broken wing—so sharp, so deadly—is transformed into something beautiful.

  ‘I… could never.’

  “Remember what I said. I’m here. Now shush,” she whispers, her voice weaving through my spiraling thoughts like a balm.

  Her words, her embrace, her warmth—they pull me to the edge of something vast and unnameable. I teeter there, unsure, and then… I jump. I let go.

  My body gives in completely, sinking into her arms as sobs wrack through me, unfiltered and raw.

  For the first time in this hell, I allow myself to feel safe.

  ***

  Notes: I'm back! Sorry for the absence, these st two weeks has been rough, especially exams but I held on~. Anyhow, I wanted to make this chapter a special one too, and I think I managed to do so? Lowkey cried while writing this lol. Anyhow, please lemme know what're your guys' thoughts~ still have lotsa exams, but I'll try for another chappie this week, hopefully! As always, enjoy!