The darkness was cold. Not the kind that numbs your skin—but the kind that seeps into your bones and hollows out your soul.
Rey couldn't move. His body felt distant, like it didn't belong to him anymore.
Then—light.
Faint, flickering.
A small kitchen.
The smell of fried onions. The sound of soft laughter.
Home…?
He stood in the middle of it all—his family's home. His real one. The wooden cabinets his mother always scolded him for slamming. The old, creaky fan above the dining table. His sister giggling as she tried to sneak an extra spoon of curry before dinner.
His mother turned toward him, apron stained with sauce, eyes full of warmth.
"There you are, Rey," she said gently. "Hungry?"
His father's voice echoed from the other room. "Hey, champ. How was school?"
Rey couldn't speak. His throat tightened. Something inside him trembled.
This wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
But it felt so real.
Then the world shook.
The lights flickered. The laughter stopped.
And outside the window—smoke.
Not again…
He ran to the front door and swung it open.
Flames devoured the horizon. Buildings collapsed in a rain of sparks. And above it all—a red sky, bleeding with fire. A massive gate loomed in the distance, twisted and cracked, pulsing with ominous energy. From its core, creatures spilled out—winged, horned, clawed. The same monsters that had dragged him into the Abyss.
Rey turned back—
But his house was gone.
His family was gone.
Only ashes remained.
The wind howled through the ruins, carrying whispers.
"You couldn't save them."
"You ran."
"You're still running."
He dropped to his knees, fists clenched, breathing ragged.
Tears fell freely now. Hot. Helpless.
Why?
Why did this happen?
Why me?
Then—
Footsteps.
He turned his head slowly.
The green-skinned girl from before stood in the ash, her bare feet untouched by fire. Her eyes no longer held curiosity. They were… mournful. Quiet.
"You saw too much," she said softly.
Rey blinked. "What… are you?"
She didn't answer. She only stepped closer.
Then, she raised a hand—and touched his forehead with her clawed fingers.
Suddenly, the flames around him were gone.
The ash faded.
He was surrounded by silence again.
His breath steadied.
His tears dried.
And then—he opened his eyes.
---
A dim stone ceiling stretched above him.
The smell of herbs and smoke filled his nose. The floor was soft—covered in moss. A weak glow pulsed from a strange, flower-like root in the corner.
He tried to sit up, groaning. Pain lanced through his ribs, but he was alive.
Someone had saved him.
Rey looked around.
A small underground chamber. Simple. Crude.
But safe.
In the corner, curled on a folded hide, sat the girl.
Still silent.
Still watching.
She didn't speak, but she didn't need to.
Rey knew the truth now.
He couldn't keep running from the past.
His family was gone… and he was alone in a world that wanted him dead.
But he wasn't the same weak boy who fell through that gate.
He was still standing.
Still breathing.
And for now—that was enough.
---