"It's been so long." Her voice—familiar, yet somehow not—shook something inside me. An instant later, I held up the grief that had been buried within me all this time. At least… at least I had someone here with me, someone who had been there from the very beginning.
No… What?
I…
Who was I kidding? My hand brushed against Adam's as if touching a fragile bubble, a barrier of pure energy that resisted everything, bending time itself around it. A force so absolute that nothing could pass, as if the universe itself conspired to stop me.
We were in a forest now. The barrier had lifted, and she stood there, quiet but present. "That was something…" she murmured, almost to herself. "Thirteen years, two months, four hours, and thirty-four seconds… Made me wonder if I'll just become a memory to you."
"About how… different you are," she continued, her voice soft but deliberate. "And how specific I am. In the multiverse, there are infinite versions of me. They are me, but not me. So the single version of me who meets you… that's just a speck of all you could ever experience." Her expression was unreadable at first, but then she smiled—broadly, almost impossibly happy, eyes closed in a rare moment of genuine warmth.
Adam couldn't form words. "What are you talking about? This isn't… I—"
What the hell had I stepped into? My eyes were slowly dulling, turning lifeless. Nothing seemed to pierce me anymore. My will itself felt as though it was slipping away.
Then, in a weak, gentle voice, Yuruki spoke as she hugged me. "If there are infinite times you'll live… it's natural there will be infinite problems, infinite mistakes. Things you can't fix… not yet. But you'll learn to forgive yourself… okay?"
The forest moaned around us. Ash-covered dirt crunched beneath our feet. Snow-like ash clung to the dead, brittle trees, their leaves long gone, their limbs fragile and skeletal.
"Because, in the end… you keep going until you can," she whispered, a little distance away, perched on a rocky cliff overlooking the abyss. The unknown stretched beneath us, a void we couldn't measure. The ash swirled, caught in endless circular winds that moved around us, over us, as if the world itself were breathing.
Yuruki held me close. That embrace—so fleeting, so fragile—was all she wanted to feel again, more than being trapped in the monstrous corpse she had once inhabited. My gaze fell on the dark sword, long extinguished, blackened like charcoal, lodged in the earth.
Above us, the Knight hovered silently, watching.
A figure emerged—a massive, deer-like creature, its neck stretched unnaturally, long as a human torso. It moved on hind legs that should not have supported its weight. Adam stared at it.
"Move," he said, flatly.
The creature inched closer. Yuruki froze, putting on her poker face, betraying nothing but fear beneath it. Something felt… wrong.
It wasn't the monster.
It was Adam. For all we knew, nothing could be more terrifying than an entity of pure consequence—a living impossibility. Human in shape, yet devoid of soul or any semblance of human essence. The world obeyed him without limit.
What had shaped him into this? What force had bent reality to his being?
No eldritch horror, no ancient terror could compare. Nothing could be conceived that matched him. Yet he wore human skin. And that skin… was Adam.
The deer hesitated a hundred meters away, then bolted, fleeing some unknown force. More monsters followed—three-legged horrors, bears lurking in darkness, preying on anything in their path—but none approached him.
Yuruki whispered, almost to herself, but loud enough for me to hear:"This world… is terrifying
Adam's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "No matter what… I was still…"
Yuruki tilted her head, calm but pointed. "Is there something you can do about it?"
He said nothing.
Her composure was remarkable—emotionally adaptive, almost unnervingly so. She tried to steady the moment, glancing from side to side, taking in how much had changed around them. Finally, she spoke again, her voice lighter, a faint suggestion of hope threading through it. "How about… we go to a village?"
...As her eye's flickers.
Yuruki fired—her drone launching a beam of searing plasma straight at the figure hovering above. The Knight twisted midair, dodging effortlessly, his movements precise, almost unnatural.
Adam's voice cut through sharply, panic lacing every word. "Wait! He's a friend!"
Yuruki froze, tilting her head in confusion. "…?"
The Knight descended slowly, landing with a muted thud. Even from a distance, his presence was imposing—tall, clad in gleaming armor that caught the dying light..
Yuruki watched him for a long moment, her gaze shifting to Adam. I looked away, still ashamed at not being able to arrive fast enough.
"Nice doll," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips, as if everything were exactly as it should be—like nothing had happened at all. Her eyes caught the strap of a doll fastened to his waist.
Adam's face flushed slightly. "Oh… this. This is… embarrassing, actually…"
Yuruki arched an eyebrow, curious. "Care to explain?"
Adam shook his head. "Nah."
"Alright," she replied lightly, shrugging. "You've got a servant now… also."
The Knight let out a deep sigh. "I am not a servant," he said, his voice measured, "yet I also wonder why I was ordered to follow him." Why... He wondered...