Ren looked down at Eva. Blackened tears had dried along her cheeks. Her clothes were torn, her skin scraped raw from the fall, and her body trembled as she struggled to stay upright.
"You came back…" Ren said in a soft voice.
"Of course I did." Eva exhaled, her breath hitching at the edges.
"I didn't expect you to." He gave a faint, exhausted smile. "You must have run fast."
But she didn't return the smile.
Ren's expression settled into something gentle. "You did the right thing…"
Eva's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "No. No, I didn't."
"Eva—"
"I shouldn't have left," She interrupted, her voice cracking from guilt. "I left you here alone."
Ren's posture softened.
"It's alright," He said. "I was the one who asked you to go."
"No…" Her voice sharpened, like she needed to hear herself more than him. "That doesn't change anything…I felt it, Ren. The moment I turned my back, it hit me—like stepping into freezing water…You were terrified…You were screaming in your head, weren't you?"
He looked elsewhere, not denying her claim.
"You thought you were going to die," She continued. "And I just…ran."
"It's alright. Really." His voice was steady. "You came back. That's all that matters."
He took a slow breath and stepped closer, just enough to close the distance between them.
"…Can you really feel what I feel?"
Eva froze at the question.
"I mean it," Ren said, softer now. "You said you felt my fear. But can you feel what I'm feeling now? Do you feel any resentment?"
Her hand fell limp at her side. Her lip trembled, but she bit it back.
'Why isn't he angry?' Eva thought. 'Why doesn't he hate me. Why doesn't he blame me?'
The questions hammered through her mind.
'He's…comforting me? If our roles were reversed…would I forgive him? Would I smile the way he does after clawing my way back from death, after hearing my own bones shatter inside me?'
Her head drifted downward to his left arm.
"What about that…" She whispered. "Does it hurt?"
Ren followed her eyes. The bone was no longer exposed. Raw muscle had already begun knitting itself over the skeletal frame.
"Only when I think about it."
"Then…don't think about it too much."
He laughed at it. "Yeah. I'll try not to."
But then—
The floor rumbled. A deep, grinding tremor rolled beneath their feet. Behind them, the massive pale tree quaked. Once towering and mystical, was now cracked and buckled, long fractures crawling up its trunk like shattered glass. Its bark split open, revealing veins of absolute darkness beneath. Thick, black sap seeped from the wounds like coagulated blood.
"Get down!" Ren shouted.
He held Eva and pulled her to the floor as a massive root tore free and slammed into the stone next to them, shards flying off in every direction. The tree collapsed inward.
At the center of the chamber, the floor gave way.
A vast black void yawned open—bottomless, swallowing light itself. Stone curled inward and crumbled away as roots and debris were dragged down, vanishing into the abyss.
Everything near the edge was pulled toward it.
Eva stumbled, bracing herself against Ren while staring at the gaping hole.
Neither noticed the figure in the air.
Floating high above, cloaked and unmoving, was The Mother.
Not slow, nor deliberate.
She descended in a violent blur, her form stretching into a column of black smoke.
In an instant, she snapped into focus inches from Ren.
There was no time to react.
A single hand reached out—solid and real.
Panic flared as it clamped over his mouth like a mask. She lifted him so effortlessly, his heels scraping lines into the stone. His sword slipped free. Ren tried to shout—anything—but her grip smothered all sound. He lashed out, swiping at her wrist. His hand passed straight through it.
She hauled him upward as his limbs flailed.
Then, without slowing—
She fell , straight into the center abyss.
Dragging Ren with her.
His stomach lurched as the world inverted, stone and light folding away above him. He clawed at her arm, her face—anything—but his hands phased through her form.
The last thing Eva saw was his eyes, wide and burning with fear.
Then, the dark swallowed him whole.
In the abyss, Ren kept falling.
Or maybe he didn't.
Everything was weightless, wrong—like sinking through a dream.
'How long have I been falling?'
There was no temperature. No pressure. No sound—not even his own heartbeat.
'Am I still falling? Or is this it?'
He wanted to scream, to rage, to demand an end—
But there was no voice left.
Then memories cracked through the darkness.
First as whispers, then as color.
He was six years old, staring into a mirror with tired eyes.
"If I disappear," The boy whispered to his reflection, "will anyone even notice?"
'No. Don't think like that. Mom would be upset. Dad would get angry again…'
The memory shifted.
A bed.
A woman kneeling beside it.
His mother's hand, warm against his cheek.
"Sleep now," She whispered. "The monsters won't get you tonight."
"You always say that," The boy murmured. "They come when you're not here."
Her other hand cupped his face.
"Then I'll stay longer," She responded with motherly love. "Until they get tired of waiting."
Ren watched her in the dim light—the strands of black hair falling loose, the exhaustion she tried to hide.
"Will you still be here when I wake up?" The boy asked.
Her fingers tensed when she whispered. "I will."
The candle crackled.
Before sleep claimed him, the boy whispered, "If they come…I'll protect you."
Her breath hitched. "My brave little boy," She said, kissing his forehead.
Then—
Cold. White. Beeping. Ren sat upright in a hospital bed, seventeen and painfully thin. Tubes lined his arms. A heart monitor kept time with his shallow breaths. The room was blank.
Dinner sat untouched on the table.
He stared at the wires.
At the plug.
"I just want it to stop."
His fingers hovered.
Then—
BEEP
A flatline screamed.