I walked toward the portal, the dim crimson light of the abyss flickering across my face. But just as I was about to step through—
[You have obtained a Return Stone.]
I halted in place, my eyes narrowing.
"Another one, huh?"
I glanced up at the dark sky. For a moment, I wondered—how long had I been here? Minutes? Hours? Days?. I could feel that time move strangely in this place. The bloodshed, the endless fights, the silence between each battle... it warped my sense of reality.
Maybe it was time to return. I still had one extra Return Stone. No reason to push further. Not tonight.
I summoned the stone. A small, green crystal materialised in my palm, glowing faintly. I took one last look at the swirling portal ahead of me, then at the silent wasteland I was about to leave behind.
With a firm grip, I crushed the stone. A blinding white light consumed my vision.
[You are being teleported to your world]
And before I could even open my eyes—
I smelled it.
Blood.
Thick, metallic, suffocating.
When the light faded, I found myself back in the small house. The same house where I had shared a meal just days ago.
But everything had changed.
Crimson stained the floorboards. The scent of death was heavy in the air. In the hallway stood a man, middle-aged, gaunt, dressed in tattered clothes. A bloodstained knife dangled from his hand. In the other, a small sack.
And on the floor... the two women. Lifeless. Their eyes were wide, frozen in terror. Blood pooled beneath them like a cruel, crimson lake.
The man turned at the sound of my return. Our eyes met.
He didn't hesitate. He charged.
His knife raised high, his expression one of desperation, not hatred. Desperation… and madness.
I didn't flinch.
"People are the same," I said coldly, stepping aside just as his blade came down. "In this world or any other. The strong prey on the weak. The rich feed on the poor."
I twisted my body, catching his wrist mid-swing. With a sharp motion, I snapped it. Bones cracked audibly. The knife slipped from his fingers.
Before it could hit the ground, I caught it.
And I drove it straight into his chest.
His breath hitched. His body stiffened. Blood spilt from his lips as his eyes widened.
[You have defeated the enemy.]
I pulled the blade free, watching his body slump to the floor. A quiet sigh escaped me.
I stepped over him, my boots squelching against the blood-soaked floor. My eyes fell on the small sack he had stolen. I reached down and opened it.
Money, I thought. Maybe something useful.
But when I opened it, a dry chuckle escaped me.
Bread. That was all. Stale, crusted bread.
All this blood... for bread?
Behind me, I heard a faint, wet sound.
A gurgle.
"My… daughter…" he rasped.
I didn't turn around. "Where is she?"
He coughed, each breath weaker than the last. "Down the street… take a left… fourth house…"
I stood there for a moment, then nodded silently and walked out the door, stepping over his dying form like he was no more than rubble in my path.
--
The streets of the outskirts were quieter than usual. Night had fallen, and the darkness brought with it an eerie silence. I passed beggars asleep on the ground, drunks mumbling to themselves, and children hiding behind crumbling walls. None of them looked at me.
--
I arrived at the house.
It was barely standing. Its roof was patched with old cloth, and a single broken window let in the moonlight.
"Anybody here?"
There was a faint rustling to my left.
I turned, cautious.
A small girl peeked out from behind a broken shelf. She couldn't have been older than six.. Maybe seven. Her hair was tangled, her face smudged with dirt. But her eyes... her eyes were alive.
I dropped the sack at her feet. "Food. Your father sent it."
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Then where is Daddy?"
I hesitated. "He said he'll be late."
She smiled, hugging the sack tightly. I turned to leave, but just as I stepped toward the door, a tiny hand tugged at my pants.
I looked down. The girl was holding onto my clothes, her tiny hands trembling.
I swatted her hand away and stepped forward. But I stopped again.
A thought surfaced—quiet but persistent.
Right now, my emotions are dull. Hollow. Nearly nonexistent. But would the future me be okay with this?
With walking away?
With a sigh, I turned back around and crouched to meet her gaze.
Forcing a small smile onto my face, I spoke,
"What's your name?"
She tilted her head. "Daddy calls me Nana! What's your name?"
My name…?
I froze. My head throbbed.
What was it? What was my real name?
I couldn't remember.
The girl tilted her head and then giggled. "Shirou!"
I blinked. "What?"
"You look like my big brother."
I swallowed hard. "Where is he?"
She grinned. "Daddy said he went to work two years ago. He'll come back one day!"
…That was a lie.
I knew the truth
But I said nothing.
Instead, something stirred inside me for the first time. A faint, unfamiliar sensation.
What was this feeling?
A small finger poked my cheek, pulling me back to reality.
For the first time in this world, a genuine smile on my lips. Not out of triumph or strategy.
A real, genuine smile.
"Shirou, huh?" I said, rolling the name over my tongue. . "Alright then. Shirou, it is."
I stood and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Let's go find your father and brother," I whispered.
Even if I knew the truth.
Even if there was no one left to find.
I would walk with her. Just a little while longer.
And maybe, just maybe… I'd remember who I used to be.