The warehouse stood still.
One hanging light.
Cold concrete.
The same walls that once heard Mark Jensen scream.
Across from each other stood two men who should have stayed dead.
Mark Jensen.
Vincent Moretti.
Both reborn.
Both carrying old ghosts.
Both given one impossible gift—
a second chance.
And both had spent it on each other.
Vincent smiled beneath the light.
"You think you're the only one who got a second chance?"
Mark's face hardened.
Every scar on his body remembered before his mind could answer.
"…Ai."
Vincent laughed softly.
"Yeah. Funny, right? She looked disappointed too."
Mark's jaw tightened.
"She should've left you in hell."
Vincent stepped closer.
"No, Mark. She gave me exactly what I wanted."
His smile widened.
"The chance to finish you properly."
Mark stared at him.
Then calmly—
he pulled out his gun.
Vincent did the same.
Steel.
Memory.
Fate.
Mark spoke first.
"You killed my mother."
Step.
"You killed Sofia."
Step.
"You made me survive hell for ghosts."
Step.
"And even after death… you chose to stay a monster."
Vincent raised his weapon.
"And you wasted your second life pretending revenge made you righteous."
Mark shook his head.
"No."
His voice was steady.
"It just made me honest."
Silence.
Rain tapped softly against broken windows.
The world held its breath.
Vincent smirked.
"Then let's be honest together."
Two men.
Two guns.
One ending.
Bang.
Bang.
The shots echoed like thunder.
Both men froze.
Both looked down.
Blood.
Mark's chest.
Vincent's throat.
Both fatal.
Both final.
Vincent stumbled first, coughing red onto the concrete.
Mark dropped to one knee, breath shallow, vision blurring.
They looked at each other across the bloodstained floor.
And somehow—
they both laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because after everything…
of course it ended like this.
Vincent collapsed against the wall.
"You know…" he coughed, "…I really did hate you."
Mark smiled weakly.
"I know."
Vincent looked at him.
"For a kid from nothing… you were annoyingly hard to kill."
Mark answered:
"For a devil… you were disappointingly human."
Vincent actually laughed at that.
A broken, dying sound.
Mark looked up at the hanging light.
Same place.
Same smell.
Same ending.
Only this time—
he wasn't afraid.
He thought of his mother.
Her hands.
Her voice.
You're still my good boy.
He thought of Sofia.
A life stolen before it began.
He thought of Lena.
Of rooftops.
Of rain.
Of a future he almost touched.
Vincent looked at the ceiling too.
Not thinking of regret.
Only irritation.
Because even now—
he had lost.
His empire.
His power.
His control.
And Mark had taken it.
That offended him more than death.
His final words came bitter and thin.
"…I should've killed you sooner."
Mark turned his head.
Blood at his lips.
And answered the only truth that mattered.
"You should've never touched my family."
Vincent Moretti died first.
No smile.
No power.
No legend.
Just a body on dirty concrete.
Mark followed seconds later.
Quietly.
Like a storm finally ending.
And then—
Darkness.
—
White.
The Middle.
Ai stood waiting.
Silent.
Still.
Two souls appeared before her.
Mark.
Vincent.
Again.
No wounds now.
No blood.
Just truth.
Vincent looked around first and sighed.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Mark stared at Ai.
He already knew.
She said nothing for a long time.
Because there was nothing left to explain.
Finally, Ai spoke.
"There is no third chance."
The white field stretched endlessly around them.
But far beyond it—
something darker waited.
No fire.
No heaven.
No punishment.
Just absence.
The Nothingness.
Where unfinished souls disappeared forever.
Mark lowered his eyes.
He understood.
He had spent his second life on revenge.
Even if justified.
Even if deserved.
It still consumed him.
Vincent smirked faintly.
"So this is it."
Ai looked at him coldly.
"Yes."
"No trial?"
"No."
"No speech?"
Ai's voice sharpened.
"You were given mercy once. Both of you were."
She looked at Mark.
"With pain, I gave you life."
She looked at Vincent.
"With truth, I gave you choice."
Then at both.
"And both of you chose death."
The darkness behind them began to move.
Slowly.
Hungry.
Infinite.
Vincent straightened his coat like pride still mattered.
"Well. I suppose oblivion is better than prison."
Mark stood still.
Not afraid.
Just tired.
He asked softly:
"My mother… Sofia…"
Ai answered gently.
"They are beyond this."
Peace.
At last.
He nodded.
That was enough.
The Nothingness opened behind them like the universe forgetting their names.
Vincent was pulled first.
Still smiling.
Still arrogant.
Even as darkness swallowed him whole.
Gone.
Like he had never existed.
Mark stood at the edge.
He looked at Ai one final time.
Not angry.
Not pleading.
Just human.
"Did I waste it?"
Ai looked at him for a long moment.
Then answered honestly.
"No.
But you could have chosen more."
Mark smiled sadly.
"Yeah…"
He already knew that.
Then he stepped backward.
Into the dark.
Into silence.
Into nothing.
Gone.
The white field became still again.
Empty.
Ai stood alone.
Watching the place where both men had vanished.
One consumed by cruelty.
One consumed by vengeance.
Both destroyed by the same truth—
if you let your past become your only future,
you never really live.
The silence stretched forever.
And in that endless white, Ai whispered to no one—
and to everyone—
"Why…"