Chapter 29
One by one, creatures began to peel themselves out of the walls.
Dax eyes had pride in them. It showed no emotion.
He walked calmly through the yellow hallways, his steps unhurried. The entities reacted instantly—parting before him, forming a path as though guided by instinct.
As he observed the skin-stealers and the many denizens of the Backrooms, they responded in their own grotesque ways. Some smiled back, their faces stretching unnaturally. Others clutched their heads, screaming, sobbing, convulsing in agony as if his presence alone was unbearable.
Eerie.
Yet familiar.
"It seems nothing has changed," Dax murmured.
"This place still carries that unsettling aura… but it still feels like home."
He stopped and spoke aloud, his voice calm yet absolute.
"That human."
The entities hesitated.
His gaze sharpened.
"This is a warning, skin-stealers do not take his flesh."
They stiffened.
"Murder him if you like, but do not control or steal his flesh."
"This place will revive him regardless."
His tone cooled.
"He must stay in level 0."
With that, he continued walking, exploring the endless corridors, observing the subtle changes that had occurred during his absence.
"Time doesn't apply here," he said quietly.
"So while my lab was in a state of suspension … activity must have continued."
It was only logical.
Behind him, Ceron floated silently.
Dax glanced back.
"Ceron," he said, "you never liked this place before. Why do you follow me now?"
Ceron beeped softly, her voice mechanical yet sincere.
"Because, Master… my vow has changed. I will never leave your side again. That is my new directive."
Dax smiled at that.
"Then it's settled," he replied.
"How would you like to see this new world?"
Ceron's mechanical eyes widened.
She screamed.
Dax paused, startled for a fraction of a second—but then ignored it, watching her with something akin to fondness.
It felt like a father watching his child grow.
"I must prepare!" Ceron exclaimed excitedly.
"I have to prepare—immediately!"
In the next instant, she dissolved into countless digital particles and vanished.
Dax chuckled softly.
"Control."
With a whisper, space shifted.
He appeared inside a white chamber—vast and sterile. Massive screens lined the walls, each displaying live recordings of different floors of the Backrooms.
Every level. Every corridor.
Quietly, Dax took his seat—the only chair in the room.
His gaze moved methodically across the monitors.
Then it stopped.
Kakarai.
Dax's smile deepened.
On the main screen, the subject stirred. Vos. Kakarai's eyes snapped open.
Vos.
The first thing he saw was yellow.
Endless yellow walls. A buzzing ceiling light. Damp carpet beneath his palms.
"Vos—!"
He screamed, scrambling upright. His breath came fast and uneven. This place was wrong. There was nothing like this in his world—no structure, no mana flow, no familiar sky or earth.
"Vos… this—"
His voice trembled.
Then he heard it.
Laughter.
A child's laughter, echoing faintly through the vast lobby.
A deep chill crawled down his spine.
What a way to wake up.
His breathing steadied as instinct took over. Kakarai equipped his gauntlet and began reciting a strange mantra, ancient syllables meant to anchor the mind and awaken power.
"Vos… this… Vos… Vos… Vos… Vos… Vos… this…"
Blood began to seep from his pores.
It crept across his skin like living rain, etching itself into his flesh, embedding like tattoos. His clothes disintegrated, peeling away as the ominous hand revealed itself—its surface writhing, Mike's face faintly visible within.
And just like that…
The fear vanished.
He straightened.
He was a Rank 3 Aura Master.
But after devouring Mike, he broke-through.
Confidence surged through him, and with it came madness disguised as calm. He began walking through the lobby leisurely, as if this strange place were nothing more than an unfamiliar street.
Time passed.
Hours—maybe more.
He didn't notice.
The yellow halls stretched endlessly until four paths presented themselves ahead of him. Two veered left, one right, one straight—but every direction screamed danger.
Kakarai sat down abruptly.
He beat his head with his fists.
Then he laughed.
Loudly.
Isolation had never bothered him before—but this place didn't merely isolate. It deepened loneliness, twisted it, sharpened it into something unbearable.
He stood and continued walking.
Soon, sounds began to seep from the walls.
Sometimes mechanical.
Sometimes like objects thrashing violently.
The noises came and went—often near turns, often near lonely corridors.
Warnings.
When the sounds grew louder, retreat felt instinctive.
Then the laughter returned.
This time closer.
Kakarai spun around just in time to see the foot of a black figure vanish around a corner.
Gone.
His body shivered.
But he kept moving.
Then—
Laughter again.
This time, Kakarai ran toward it.
Laughing.
In the control room, Dax stared at the screen, momentarily stunned.
Madness was never linear.
You could never predict the next step.
Still… Kakarai was moving exactly as planned.
Kakarai burst into an open space—and stopped.
Before him stood a plastic figure.
Not the thing he expected.
It looked like a toy—smooth, artificial, grotesquely large. A mannequin-like entity with oversized eyes and a stretched, unnatural smile. It moved slowly, bending and shaking, leaning toward him like a curious child.
Kakarai felt no danger.
Only curiosity.
Then—
A screech.
From the left.
The real pursuer revealed itself.
A dark, malformed figure stepped forward—ears drooping like a goat's, four eyes blinking asynchronously. Its face was almost human… but not quite. Its bloated body rested on impossibly thin legs.
It screeched again.
Its spine twisted.
Then it burst forward.
"VOS—!"
Kakarai roared, throwing his fist.
Impact.
The creature flew meters back, smashing into the wall—and vanished.
Before Kakarai could react, it reappeared at his side, reaching for him, trying to drag him into the wall.
He jumped back.
His hand reshaped instinctively—fingers aligning like a pistol.
Blast.
His palm tore open.
A blood bullet ripped free, his fingers peeling down to his bone before regenerating instantly.
The projectile struck the creature.
It died.
Instantly.
Kakarai clapped his hands and laughed, hopping in place.
"So that's what you are."
He approached the corpse without hesitation.
It was nothing human.
He didn't care.
He plunged his hand into its chest, crushed its heart, smeared the remains across his face, rubbing it in like paint.
The acidic substance began melting his flesh.
His face regenerated.
He laughed harder.
Then, using the same hand—the one that devoured Mike—he dug deeper into the hole he had created…