Chapter 1: The Betrayal
The night was quiet, but inside me, everything screamed.
I had always believed betrayal came with warning signs—a cold distance, a late reply, an empty smile. But nothing prepared me for the message that flashed on my phone, dragging me into a darkness I never imagined.
A video.
Her voice.
Her body.
But not with me.
My wife—the woman I trusted more than my own shadow—was in another man's arms, their moans carved into my ears like knives. My chest tightened as if someone had reached inside and torn out my beating heart.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to smash the phone. Instead, I just stood there, trembling, the glow of the screen staining my face as tears blurred the image. It wasn't only the sex, it wasn't only the betrayal of flesh—it was the message beneath it. She wanted me to see. She wanted me broken.
The debts in my name, the loans I never took, but she signed… I thought that was the worst of it. She bled me dry, left me hunted by creditors, and stripped me of dignity. But this? This was worse than death.
The woman I loved had destroyed me, not by leaving—but by staying long enough to burn my life to ashes.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the phone until my knuckles turned white. A part of me begged to wake up, to realize this was a nightmare. But the cold silence of the room, the pounding in my chest, and the sting in my eyes made it clear: this was real.
And in that moment, something inside me cracked.
I wasn't just betrayed.
I was finished.
Chapter 2: The Video
I watched it again.
Not because I wanted to, but because my mind refused to believe what my eyes had already seen. Every time I pressed play, I prayed the faces would blur, that the sounds would distort into something meaningless. But no—every frame cut me open all over again.
Her laughter—God, her laughter—was the same one she used to give me in bed, when she still whispered that I was her world. Now it belonged to someone else. A stranger. An enemy. And she wanted me to see it.
My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the phone. The walls around me felt too tight, pressing in until I couldn't breathe. I wanted to run, to escape the image, but it followed me, crawling under my skin, digging into my veins.
I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall with a dull crack, sliding to the floor, screen still glowing. Still playing. Still mocking me.
My legs gave out, and I sank onto the cold tiles. I pressed my palms against my ears, but the sound seeped through—the gasps, the sighs, the betrayal that played louder in my head than the actual recording.
Tears came then, hot and merciless. Not just for her. Not just for the man she chose over me. But for the years I spent believing in a love that turned to poison. For the sacrifices I made while she carved out my future with a blade hidden behind her smile.
This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't a weakness.
This was a message.
She sent the video to kill me without lifting a hand.
And in that moment, it worked.
Not my body. Not yet.
But my soul? My soul was already gone.
Chapter 3: The Debt
If the video was a dagger, the debts were the chains.
I thought betrayal of the heart was the worst pain a man could suffer. I was wrong. Money—numbers on paper, contracts I never signed—tightened around my throat like a noose.
Letters kept coming. Phone calls, too. Men I had never met demanded repayment for loans I never took. Black money, white money—it didn't matter. All of it was in my name. All of it was tied to me.
She hadn't just cheated on me. She had buried me alive.
I stared at the bills, the notices stamped in red, the threats scrawled by hand. My name was written on every one of them. My name. Not hers. Mine. It was as if she had peeled my skin off and left it hanging for the vultures to feast on.
The phone buzzed again. Another creditor. Another voice spitting venom, promising to find me, promising to break me if I didn't pay. I didn't even have the strength to answer anymore.
I tried to think—how had she done this without me noticing? But the truth was crueler: I trusted her too much to even check. While I worked, while I bled to build a future for us, she signed my life away.
And now, that future was gone.
I pushed the papers off the table, sending them scattering like fallen leaves. They filled the room, reminders of everything I had lost. I pressed my palms into my eyes until stars burst behind my lids, but nothing could block out the truth: there was no coming back from this.
Love had betrayed me.
Debt had destroyed me.
And I was already standing at the edge.
Chapter 4: The Collapse
I stopped eating.
I stopped sleeping.
The days blurred into each other, endless gray smears across the walls of my apartment. I didn't even recognize the man staring back at me from the mirror—sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, a face that carried the weight of ten lifetimes of regret.
Everywhere I looked, reminders of her lingered. The bed where she once whispered love into my ear now stank of betrayal. The kitchen where we laughed over burnt dinners was cold and silent. Even the smell of her perfume, faint in the air, felt like poison choking me.
The creditors didn't stop. Their voices filled the phone, filled my dreams, filled my every waking hour until silence itself became unbearable. Sometimes I thought I heard them even when the phone wasn't ringing—shadows at the door, whispers in the walls.
I started drinking. At first, just to numb it. Then to forget. Then, because sobriety was a worse kind of hell. The bottles piled up around me, glass graves marking the death of my will.
My body trembled. My thoughts twisted. And the truth carved itself deeper every day: I had nothing left. No money. No love. No dignity. Not even myself.
There comes a point when pain stops being pain and becomes something else. Something heavier. Something that drags you to the floor and dares you to stand again. I couldn't. I didn't want to.
So I decided.
The building.
The rooftop.
The end.
For the first time in weeks, my heart felt calm.
Chapter 5: The Building
The city lights shimmered below, but I barely noticed them.
My shoes scraped against the concrete as I climbed the final steps to the rooftop. The door groaned open, and the night air hit me like a cold slap.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the drop. Wind tugged at my shirt, urging me forward. Cars moved like tiny insects far beneath me, their horns faint, meaningless.
I felt weightless.
Not free—just empty.
All the debts, all the betrayal, all the pain… down there, somewhere. But up here, it was silent. For the first time in weeks, no calls, no voices, no laughter that wasn't mine.
The ledge called to me.
One step, and it would all end.
Chapter 6: The Jump
My toes curled against the edge. My arms trembled.
One breath. That's all it would take.
I closed my eyes and saw her face. Not the woman she was—but the woman I believed in. Her smile. Her warmth. Lies. All lies.
The wind roared louder, as if urging me on. My chest rose and fell, and then… I leaned forward.
Gravity seized me like a greedy hand. The ground rushed upward, a blur of neon and shadows. Time stretched, each heartbeat an eternity.
And in those final moments, as the air tore at my skin, I thought: At last. It's over.
Chapter 7: Not Dead
Pain should have greeted me. Bone-shattering, blood-splattering pain.
But instead… silence.
I opened my eyes.
No broken body. No city street. No flashing lights.
I was lying on something soft—fog, maybe, or nothing at all. A vast gray emptiness stretched in every direction. My heart hammered in confusion. Had I survived? Was this heaven?
Then I heard it.
A voice. Low, mocking, everywhere and nowhere.
"No."
The word echoed, and every hair on my body rose.
Chapter 8: The Voice
The voice came again, colder, closer.
"You are not in heaven."
My breath caught in my throat. My eyes darted around, but there was no one. Just endless gray, shifting like smoke.
"Who's there?" My voice cracked, fragile.
Laughter answered me. A sound too deep, too cruel, vibrating inside my skull.
"You jumped, and you think heaven would take you?" the voice hissed. "Fool. You've fallen farther than you know."
My knees buckled. If this wasn't heaven… then where was I?
Chapter 9: The Screams
The world tore open.
Suddenly, the gray dissolved into fire, into darkness, into sound.
Screams. Endless, unbearable screams. Millions of voices shrieking in agony, clawing at the air. I clamped my hands over my ears, but it was useless—the pain cut straight through me.
Shapes writhed in the shadows. Human, but broken. Souls, twisted by torment, writhing in pits of flame and ice. Their mouths stretched wide, but no relief came from their cries.
I stumbled back, choking on the stench of suffering. My stomach lurched as I realized what I was seeing.
These were the suicides.
And this was their punishment.
Chapter 10: The Warning
A shadow loomed over the screaming pit, its presence heavier than stone.
The voice returned, cold and merciless:
"These are suicides. Their fate is eternal torment. They chose to escape their suffering by ending their lives. Now they suffer without end."
I staggered back, shaking my head. "No—no, this can't be real."
But the screams pierced deeper, wrapping around my ribs, tearing into my soul. Their despair clung to me like oil, thick and suffocating.
And then the voice whispered, almost tender:
"This is where you belong."
Chapter 11: The Bargain
I collapsed to my knees. "Please… no. Not here. Anything but this."
The laughter echoed again, sharp and cruel.
"Anything?"
The ground split beneath me, and a thousand hands clawed upward, skeletal fingers scraping my skin. I fought them off, terror ripping through me.
"Then hear my offer," the voice thundered. "Escape this fate. Not by mercy—but by redemption."
The claws froze. The air thickened.
My heart pounded. An offer? In this place?
"What… what do you want from me?" I whispered.
Chapter 12: The Threat
The laughter grew louder, vibrating through the bones of the damned.
"Fail me," the voice said, "and you will not return here. No—your soul will be torn apart, piece by piece, for all eternity. A torment even these cannot imagine."
Images flooded my mind—my body ripped to fragments, each fragment burned, drowned, crushed forever without end. My stomach twisted, bile rising.
The voice lingered, savoring my fear.
"Do you understand, mortal? There is no greater punishment than failure. Choose carefully."
Chapter 13: The Laughter
The pit erupted with grotesque laughter—thousands of souls mocking me, their hollow eyes locked onto mine. Their jeers twisted into words I couldn't escape:
Failure. Failure. Failure.
The voice joined them, a chorus of malice.
"Do you think you are stronger than them? Every soul here was given the same chance. All failed. What makes you different?"
I pressed my hands over my ears, but the sound carved straight into my skull. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed back into the void:
"Because I have nothing left to lose!"
The laughter stopped.
Silence.
Chapter 14: The Terms
The silence broke with a whisper colder than death.
"Seven lives."
The world around me shifted, the fire fading to black.
"Seven broken souls, each moment from suicide. Save them. Redeem them. Change their fate."
The darkness pressed closer, suffocating.
"And if you fail," the voice breathed, "your soul will be carved into fragments and scattered into the void. Forever."
My chest tightened, but there was no choice. Not really.
I clenched my fists and whispered back:
"I'll do it."
Chapter 15: The Decision
The void trembled with my answer.
"Yes. I'll do it."
The words left my mouth like shards of glass, tearing me as they escaped. But the moment they hung in the air, the claws retreated, the screams dulled, and for the first time since my fall, silence returned.
I had chosen.
Not out of courage. Not out of hope.
But because the alternative was worse than hell.
"Good," the voice whispered, its satisfaction dripping like venom. "We shall see if you are worthy."
Chapter 16: The Blackout
Darkness consumed me. A crushing weight pressed down, heavier than death itself. My breath vanished, my body dissolved, and all that remained was thought—raw, terrified thought.
I screamed, but no sound came. The world twisted, folding in on itself, dragging me deeper into an endless pit.
And then—
Nothing.
A void.
A silence so complete, it felt like I had ceased to exist.
Until—
Chapter 17: First Breath
Air rushed into my lungs.
Hot. Heavy. Real.
I gasped and opened my eyes. The stench of sweat, dirt, and blood hit me at once. My body felt heavier, stronger, not mine. My hands were calloused, scarred, gripping a rifle streaked with mud.
I wasn't me anymore.
I was someone else.
Gunfire thundered around me. Explosions lit the sky. Men screamed. I stumbled forward, heart pounding, as a single thought ripped through me:
Where the hell am I?
Chapter 18: The Soldier's War
The battlefield stretched for miles, a nightmare of smoke and fire. Soldiers—brothers, enemies, indistinguishable in the chaos—rushed past me, their boots pounding against the torn earth.
A mortar shell exploded nearby, throwing me to the ground. My ears rang, my body aching. But when I looked up, I saw faces. Young, broken, terrified.
Memories—his memories—poured into me. Orders barked. Death counts. Blood on his hands. War crimes that burned his soul like acid.
The soldier I had become was drowning in despair.
And I was sinking with him.
Chapter 19: The Broken Man
Night fell, but the war didn't stop.
In the silence between gunfire, his thoughts bled into mine. His guilt. His grief. His desperate need to escape the nightmare of his own making.
He wasn't just tired.
He was broken.
I felt it—the rope hidden in his pack, the gun he kept a bullet reserved for. His mind circled the same thought again and again: end it, end it, end it.
And for the first time, I understood my mission.
This man wasn't just fighting a war outside. He was fighting a war inside.
And he was losing.
Chapter 20: The Choice Ahead
The voice returned, low and mocking, carried on the smoke of the battlefield.
"This is your first trial. Save him, or join the others in eternal suffering."
I looked down at the soldier's scarred hands—my hands now. The despair clawing at his soul was the same that had dragged me off the rooftop. His war was mine, his pain my own.
And the truth struck me cold:
If I couldn't save him from suicide…
I would never save myself.
Chapter 21: The Soldier's Nightmare
The first night in this new body was worse than any hell I had already seen.
The battlefield didn't sleep. Even in the silence between shells, war lingered. Smoke drifted in thick, choking clouds, carrying the stench of burnt flesh and damp earth. The trenches stretched like open wounds, filled with mud, blood, and the groans of the dying.
And inside my head—the soldier's memories.
His name burned into me as if branded: Captain Elias Ward.
Images flickered: villages in flames, children crying in the rubble, orders barked and followed without question. Faces of men—friends, enemies, all blurred—collapsed under gunfire. Elias's hands pulled the trigger, over and over, until the screams stopped.
I felt every memory as if I had lived it.
Every shot.
Every death.
Every sin.
And the worst part—his guilt was endless. He carried the weight of each life like stones in his chest. It dragged me down with him, deeper into despair.
That night, lying in the trench with the cold mud soaking into my bones, I realized something terrifying:
Elias Ward didn't want redemption.
He wanted to escape.
And if I failed him, we would both burn.
Chapter 22: The Razor's Edge
The morning came with no sunrise, only fire and smoke. Mortars thundered in the distance, their echoes rolling across the scarred land. Soldiers stumbled past me, eyes hollow, uniforms stained with blood that wasn't always their own.
I gripped Elias's rifle, feeling its weight like a curse. Around me, men muttered prayers they no longer believed, passing cigarettes between trembling fingers. Hope was gone here—buried beneath the mud along with the bodies.
Then I felt it.
The thought.
Elias's thought.
Cold, sharp, insistent: End it.
My heart stuttered as his mind surged through me. I saw his pack. Inside, a length of rope, coiled like a waiting snake. I felt the pistol at his side, heavy, loaded, whispering promises of silence.
I staggered back, clutching at my head.
"No—no, not yet. Not here."
But Elias's despair pressed harder, demanding release. His pain was raw, unfiltered—every scream, every face, every sin clawing at his mind until he couldn't bear it.
And I knew:
If I didn't act soon, he would do it.
He would end it.
And drag me with him.
Chapter 23: The Possession
I tried to fight him. Tried to take control.
It was like wrestling with a shadow that knew all my weaknesses.
Elias's mind was a storm, and I was drowning in it. Every order he followed, every innocent life crushed by his hand, every comrade's scream as they bled out—it all tore through me at once.
My thoughts tangled with his. My betrayal. My debts. My rooftop fall. His war crimes. His despair.
I wasn't sure where he ended and I began.
The rifle shook in my grip. My hands—his hands—moved toward the pistol holster, unthinking. His voice whispered in my skull: One bullet. That's all. Peace.
I slammed the gun back into its holster, my chest heaving.
"No. Not peace. Not like this."
But the battlefield gave no answers. Only smoke. Only screams.
And somewhere in the distance, the mocking voice returned, faint but cruel:
"Save him… or suffer with him."
Chapter 24: The Voice Returns
The battlefield quieted at dusk, but inside me, the war never stopped.
The trench smelled of rot—damp earth soaked with blood that would never wash away. Flies gathered on the corpses left half-buried in mud, their droning louder than the faint moans of the wounded. Men whispered to each other in the shadows, some praying, some cursing, all waiting for the next shell to fall.
And then, beneath it all, I heard it again.
That voice.
The same one that mocked me in the pit of screams.
"You feel him slipping, don't you?"
I froze, clutching my rifle. The voice wasn't outside—it was in my head, curling around my thoughts like smoke.
"Elias is already gone. He has seen too much, done too much. Do you think you can pull him back?"
My jaw clenched. "I don't have a choice."
The voice laughed softly, as if humoring a child.
"No one ever does."
Chapter 25: The Trigger
That night, a letter arrived.
A courier, mud-streaked and trembling, shoved a folded paper into my hand before stumbling away. My heart pounded as Elias's memories surged, knowing before I even opened it what it might say.
It was short.
Brutal.
Final.
His brother. Dead in combat. His unit was wiped out. No survivors.
Elias's chest heaved. My chest. His grief poured through me like acid, searing every nerve. The guilt deepened, sharper than any bullet. He hadn't just lost his brother—he blamed himself for not being there, for not saving him.
I felt the decision harden inside him like iron.
The rope. The gun. The end.
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying.
He didn't fear death.
He wanted it.
Chapter 26: The Intervention
I fought for control with everything I had.
Elias's hands shook as they reached for the pistol, his breath ragged, eyes wild with the promise of release. I seized his arms, forcing them still, whispering through gritted teeth:
"Not like this. Not tonight. Not ever."
He resisted, thrashing inside my skull, his voice breaking: "You don't understand! I can't live with what I've done. I can't—"
"I understand too well!" I snapped. "I jumped once. I fell once. And I ended up in hell for it."
Silence.
For a heartbeat, his struggle faltered. His despair pressed against mine, like two broken souls recognizing each other's scars.
But the pistol was still in his hand. And the choice was still there.
Chapter 27: The Resistance
Elias's rage flared. His will slammed into mine like a hammer.
"You can't stop me! It's my life—my death!"
My skull burned as he clawed at control, dragging us both closer to the edge. My vision blurred, the trench walls twisting around me.
I gritted my teeth, forcing back the wave of despair that wasn't entirely his anymore. It was mine too. His war, my betrayal, our pain—it all fused, a storm that threatened to drown us both.
But somewhere deep inside, beneath the anger, I felt it.
The smallest flicker.
A hesitation.
He didn't want to die.
He just couldn't see another way to live.
Chapter 28: The Flashbacks
The first shell landed just after midnight.
The explosion rattled the trench walls, spraying dirt and stone across my face. But worse than the blast was what it triggered inside Elias.
The memories came like knives—merciless, unstoppable.
A village, burning.
A woman, clutching her child, screaming as soldiers stormed her home.
Orders barked. His voice among them.
The sound of his rifle.
The silence afterward.
I fell to my knees, clutching my skull as the flood of images ripped through me. They weren't just pictures—they were feelings. The stench of smoke, the warmth of blood on his hands, the weight of a trigger pulled too many times.
Elias's voice broke inside me. "I deserve it. Every scream, every face—I deserve the rope."
I wanted to argue, to fight back. But the truth twisted in my chest.
Hadn't I once thought the same?
Chapter 29: The Bargaining Soldier
At dawn, the trench was quiet again. Too quiet.
Elias sat slumped against the dirt wall, his rifle across his knees, his eyes staring at nothing. I felt the pull—the rope, the pistol, the end—but his lips moved, whispering something I almost missed.
"Peace. I just want peace."
It wasn't a plea. It was a bargain. His mind had built its courtroom, where the sentence was death and the only mercy was silence.
I crouched, gripping his hands, speaking aloud though no one else could hear me.
"Peace doesn't come this way. You'll just trade one torment for another."
His eyes flicked toward mine, hollow but questioning.
"And what do you know of torment?" he spat.
The rooftop flashed in my mind. The fall. The pit of screams.
"Enough to know death won't free you."
For the first time, Elias didn't fight me. But his despair didn't fade either. It lingered, heavy, waiting.
Chapter 30: The Battle of Wills
By evening, the storm broke.
He grabbed the pistol, his hands steady this time. His mind surged like a tidal wave, dragging me down. I clawed for control, shouting inside his skull:
"Stop! You don't want this!"
"You don't understand!" he roared back. "Every breath I take is stolen from the dead! I see their faces every night. I hear their cries. And you want me to keep living with that?"
The barrel pressed against our temple. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
"Yes!" I screamed. "Because living with it means you still have a chance to make it right!"
The world tilted, the struggle tearing me apart. My vision split—half battlefield, half memory of my rooftop. Two suicides, locked in one body, one decision.
And then, at the breaking point—hesitation. His finger froze on the trigger.
The smallest breath. The smallest pause.
The crack widened.
Chapter 31: First Victory?
The pistol clattered to the dirt. Elias gasped, collapsing against the trench wall. My chest heaved, sweat pouring down his—our—face.
For the first time, he didn't fight me. His hands trembled, his lips whispering words too fragile for a soldier's mouth.
"I… don't know how to live anymore."
I gripped his shoulder, staring hard into the mud-stained eyes staring back.
"Then let me show you. One day at a time. One breath at a time."
The silence stretched.
He didn't agree. But he didn't reach for the gun again.
And in this place, that was as close to victory as I had ever known.
But deep down, a cold whisper reminded me:
This was only the first battle.
And the war was far from over.
That was the crack. The opening.
If I could force light through it, maybe—just maybe—I could pull him back.
Chapter 28: The Flashbacks
The first shell landed just after midnight.
The explosion rattled the trench walls, spraying dirt and stone across my face. But worse than the blast was what it triggered inside Elias.
The memories came like knives—merciless, unstoppable.
A village, burning.
A woman, clutching her child, screaming as soldiers stormed her home.
Orders barked. His voice among them.
The sound of his rifle.
The silence afterward.
I fell to my knees, clutching my skull as the flood of images ripped through me. They weren't just pictures—they were feelings. The stench of smoke, the warmth of blood on his hands, the weight of a trigger pulled too many times.
Elias's voice broke inside me. "I deserve it. Every scream, every face—I deserve the rope."
I wanted to argue, to fight back. But the truth twisted in my chest.
Hadn't I once thought the same?
Chapter 29: The Bargaining Soldier
At dawn, the trench was quiet again. Too quiet.
Elias sat slumped against the dirt wall, his rifle across his knees, his eyes staring at nothing. I felt the pull—the rope, the pistol, the end—but his lips moved, whispering something I almost missed.
"Peace. I just want peace."
It wasn't a plea. It was a bargain. His mind had built its courtroom, where the sentence was death and the only mercy was silence.
I crouched, gripping his hands, speaking aloud though no one else could hear me.
"Peace doesn't come this way. You'll just trade one torment for another."
His eyes flicked toward mine, hollow but questioning.
"And what do you know of torment?" he spat.
The rooftop flashed in my mind. The fall. The pit of screams.
"Enough to know death won't free you."
For the first time, Elias didn't fight me. But his despair didn't fade either. It lingered, heavy, waiting.
Chapter 30: The Battle of Wills
By evening, the storm broke.
He grabbed the pistol, his hands steady this time. His mind surged like a tidal wave, dragging me down. I clawed for control, shouting inside his skull:
"Stop! You don't want this!"
"You don't understand!" he roared back. "Every breath I take is stolen from the dead! I see their faces every night. I hear their cries. And you want me to keep living with that?"
The barrel pressed against our temple. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
"Yes!" I screamed. "Because living with it means you still have a chance to make it right!"
The world tilted, the struggle tearing me apart. My vision split—half battlefield, half memory of my rooftop. Two suicides, locked in one body, one decision.
And then, at the breaking point—hesitation. His finger froze on the trigger.
The smallest breath. The smallest pause.
The crack widened.
Chapter 31: First Victory?
The pistol clattered to the dirt. Elias gasped, collapsing against the trench wall. My chest heaved, sweat pouring down his—our—face.
For the first time, he didn't fight me. His hands trembled, his lips whispering words too fragile for a soldier's mouth.
"I… don't know how to live anymore."
I gripped his shoulder, staring hard into the mud-stained eyes staring back.
"Then let me show you. One day at a time. One breath at a time."
The silence stretched.
He didn't agree. But he didn't reach for the gun again.
And in this place, that was as close to victory as I had ever known.
But deep down, a cold whisper reminded me:
This was only the first battle.
And the war was far from over.
Chapter 32: The Price
Victory tasted like ash.
For days, Elias carried on—eating when ordered, moving when commanded, staring into the middle distance when no one was watching. He didn't reach for the pistol again, but the thought lingered. Always lingering.
And I felt it.
Every shred of his torment had seeped into me, fusing with my own. When he saw the faces of the dead, so did I. When he dreamt of fire and screams, so did I. His nightmares became mine.
At night, I shook awake in the trench, gasping for air, clutching my chest. The other soldiers thought Elias was breaking down. They were right. But it wasn't only him—it was me too.
Redemption wasn't free.
And the price was on my mind.
Chapter 33: The Shattered Mirror
On the fifth night, a dream came.
Not Elias's dream. Mine.
I saw her again—my wife.
Her face glowing in candlelight, her smile soft, her hand slipping into mine. For a moment, the memory almost felt safe. But then the scene twisted. Her laughter became the one from the video, cruel, mocking. Her body tangled with another man's.
The dream shattered like glass, shards slicing into my chest. I woke with a scream, clawing at the mud, while Elias's comrades cursed at me to shut up.
But the truth carved itself deeper into me:
I wasn't just carrying Elias's pain.
My own was still alive, festering, unhealed.
And it was waiting for me in every reflection.
Chapter 34: The Test Continues
The voice returned at dawn, curling around the gunfire like smoke.
"You've stopped him—for now."
I stiffened, clutching the rifle tighter.
"What do you want?"
The voice chuckled. "To remind you. This was only the first test. Six more await. Each harder. Each darker."
Elias stirred inside me, groaning, unaware of the torment circling his soul. The men around us marched forward, but I stood still, my blood running cold.
Seven lives.
Seven redemptions.
And I had barely survived the first.
"Do you still think you can win?" the voice whispered.
I clenched my fists, whispering back:
"I have to."
Chapter 35: Second Blackout
The world cracked open.
One moment, I was in the trench, Elias's mud-soaked boots sinking into the earth. Next, the ground vanished beneath me. The sky folded in on itself, collapsing into black.
I fell—not with the speed of my rooftop jump, but slowly, endlessly, as if drowning in tar. Elias's body dissolved around me, his voice echoing faintly in the void:
"Peace… please… peace…"
I reached for him, but my hand grasped nothing. His soul slipped away, leaving me alone in the abyss.
And then the darkness swallowed me whole.
Chapter 36: The Child's Cry
I woke to the sound of weeping.
My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I thought I was still falling through the void. But instead of darkness, I saw cracked plaster above me, stained with damp patches. The air reeked of mildew, sweat, and something sour.
Small bodies shifted in the shadows. Rows of iron-framed beds lined the walls, each filled with children no older than ten. Thin, pale, hollow-eyed. Their breathing rasped in the silence, broken only by the occasional sob muffled into a pillow.
And then I realized—I was one of them.
My arms were shorter. My skin is smooth. My voice, when I gasped, was high and fragile.
The memory of Elias Ward, the soldier, was already fading into the fog. But a new truth settled in my bones. I wasn't a captain anymore. I wasn't a man at war.
I was a boy.
Alone.
Unwanted.
And the crying I heard was my own.
Chapter 37: The Beatings
The orphanage was not a home. It was a prison wrapped in the disguise of care.
The caretaker, Mr. Griggs, stalked the halls with a cane in hand. His belly sagged over his belt, his breath stank of liquor, and his eyes gleamed with cruelty whenever they fell on the children.
"Up! Up, you little rats!" he barked at dawn, striking the beds with the cane. The weak stirred, some too slow, earning sharp lashes across their backs. I flinched as his shadow fell over me, my small body curling instinctively.
The day was endless work—scrubbing floors until knuckles bled, hauling buckets of water too heavy for our small frames, scrubbing clothes that weren't ours. Any mistake, any hesitation, was met with the cane.
By night, we returned to our beds bruised and starving. Some children whispered stories of parents who might come back for them, of fairy-tale rescues. But most knew better.
I knew better.
This wasn't a place of saving.
It was a place of breaking.
Chapter 38: The Lonely Bed
That night, I lay on the thin mattress, staring into the dark. The sobbing around me blended into a lullaby of despair.
My mind twisted. For a moment, I was myself again—the man betrayed, the man who jumped. But then the boy's pain surged through me, raw and unbearable. His memories weren't sharp like Elias's—they were emptiness, absence, silence.
No mother.
No father.
No arms to hold him when he cried.
The loneliness crawled under my skin until I couldn't tell whose tears wet the pillow—his or mine.
And in the hollow silence of that dormitory, a thought crept in.
The same one that had followed me from the rooftop.
The same one Elias had clung to in the trench.
Maybe I shouldn't wake up tomorrow.
Chapter 39: The Escape Attempt
By the third week, I couldn't bear it.
The beatings, the hunger, the endless ache of being unloved—it gnawed at me until escape became the only thought left.
That night, I waited until the caretaker's snores shook the walls. Then I slipped out of bed, bare feet silent on the stone floor. My heart pounded as I crept past rows of sleeping children, their thin frames curled into themselves.
The back door was locked, but a window stood half-open, its wood frame rotting. I shoved at it, the hinges squealing. I froze, breath held, listening for footsteps. None came.
The cold night air kissed my face as I climbed onto the sill. For one fragile moment, hope flickered—freedom, a world beyond the iron bars and cane strikes.
But before I could drop down, a hand seized the back of my neck.
Chapter 40: The Dark Corner
Mr. Griggs's grip was iron. He dragged me down from the window, his cane clattering against the floor. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight—rage and pleasure entwined.
"You filthy little rat," he hissed. "Think you can run? Think anyone wants you out there?"
He flung me into the corner, the shadows swallowing me. The first strike landed across my back, fire searing through my small body. I cried out, curling tighter, but the blows rained down again and again.
By the time he left, my skin burned, my body trembled, and my hope bled out onto the cold stone floor.
Lying there in the dark, I felt the thought return, heavier than ever.
The boy wanted to end it.
And for the first time… so did I.
Chapter 41: The Intervention Again
I couldn't let it happen.
The boy's despair pressed into me, stronger than anything I had felt since the rooftop. His thoughts were simple but brutal: If no one wants me, then why stay?
I seized control, just as I had with Elias. My small hands trembled as I pulled the thin blanket tighter around us, whispering words into the dark. Words that weren't his but mine:
"You are not nothing. You are not trash. Someone wants you—someone has to."
The boy resisted. His pain fought me, curling back into the thought of escape through silence. But I held on, forcing my breath to steady, refusing to let the darkness win.
And for the first time, he hesitated.
Chapter 42: The Caretaker's Wrath
The next morning, Griggs noticed.
I was slower at chores, my small body still aching from the beating. He saw the hesitation in my step, the faint defiance in my eyes, and it infuriated him.
The cane came down hard. Once. Twice. Again.
"Don't look at me like that, boy!" he spat, his face red with rage. "You're nothing. Less than nothing!"
Each strike cut deep, but I refused to cry. The boy inside me wanted to wail, to collapse, but I held him upright, my teeth clenched.
It wasn't courage. It was defiance. A refusal to give Griggs the satisfaction of seeing me broken.
But later, when the pain settled into my bones, I wondered if I could keep standing tomorrow.
Chapter 43: The Voice's Reminder
That night, as the dormitory fell silent, the voice returned.
"Do you feel it? His despair clings to you. His pain becomes yours. This is what redemption costs."
I sat up in bed, fists clenched, teeth grinding. "I know the cost."
The voice chuckled, low and cruel. "But do you know the risk? If he falls, you fall. If he takes his life, you will join him—shattered, screaming, forever."
The weight of it crushed me. This wasn't just about saving the boy. It was about saving myself.
And in that truth, I heard the voice's mocking final whisper:
"Do not fail him. Or you will pray for a torment like Griggs's cane."
Chapter 44: The Breakthrough
The next day, something shifted.
Griggs sent us into the yard to scrub laundry by the pump. The water was icy, the soap harsh, but the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in weeks. The boy inside me stared at the sky, wide-eyed, and whispered something I hadn't expected.
"It's… beautiful."
I seized the moment.
"Yes. And there's more out there. More than this place. More than him."
The boy blinked, confused.
"But I'll never see it."
"Yes, you will." I gripped the wooden bucket with trembling hands. "You'll see it if you stay. If you fight. If you dream of something beyond these walls."
For the first time, his despair loosened. Just a little. Just enough for light to slip in.
Chapter 45: The Flicker of Hope
That night, he didn't cry himself to sleep.
He still curled into the blanket, still trembled from the bruises, but when his eyes closed, the thought of ending it wasn't the last thing in his mind.
Instead, there was a flicker—a fragile spark of possibility.
A future.
A dream.
Something better, even if he couldn't name it yet.
I felt it burn faintly inside him, inside me.
Not a victory. Not yet.
But a beginning.
And as I drifted into uneasy sleep, I realized the truth:
Hope, no matter how small, was more powerful than despair.
And it was my only weapon.
Chapter 46: The Shadow of Failure
The flicker of hope burned fragile, but it was enough to hold the boy through the week. He no longer reached for the thought of ending it every night. He watched the sky more, whispering questions about the world beyond the walls.
But shadows always returned.
One evening, Griggs beat another child so brutally that the sound of the cane on flesh echoed long after. The boy inside me flinched, the hope crumbling like sand. "If it happens to me again, I won't survive," he whispered.
Fear wrapped around us both. What if I wasn't strong enough this time? What if I lost him, like so many had been lost before?
The truth was heavy, undeniable.
If he fell, I fell.
And all of this would be for nothing.
Chapter 47: The Glimpse Beyond
That night, I dreamed.
But it wasn't Elias's memories or the boy's loneliness. It was something else—something larger.
I saw seven doors, each shrouded in shadows. Behind them, lives flickered like candles in a storm. A soldier. A child. A slave in chains. A woman in despair. Faces blurred, stories untold, but each carried the same weight of hopelessness.
Seven chances.
Seven trials.
Seven souls balanced on the edge of despair.
And behind them, I saw myself—fractured, splintered, my soul breaking apart piece by piece.
The voice whispered through the dream, soft as silk, sharp as a knife:
"Fail even one… and you will beg for the pit."
Chapter 48: The Chains Ahead
The vision shifted.
A man knelt in the dirt, his wrists bound in iron cuffs, his back scarred from countless lashes. His breath came in ragged gasps as overseers barked orders, whips cracking above him. The weight of slavery bent his spine, but it was the hopelessness in his eyes that crushed me.
I felt it—his despair, his hunger for release. The thought of ending it whispered to him, just as it had to Elias, just as it had to the boy.
And I knew with terrible certainty:
This was the next life.
And his noose was already waiting.
Chapter 49: The Cliffhanger
The dream dissolved into choking blackness. I couldn't breathe. My body wasn't mine anymore—it was heavier, older, scarred. A rope tightened around my neck, pulling harder, harder, until spots danced before my eyes.
I clawed at it, gasping, but the pressure only grew. Somewhere, voices shouted. Somewhere, laughter rang.
And then I realized—I wasn't dreaming.
I was there.
In him.
And his death had already begun.
Chapter 50: End of the Opening
The world exploded into darkness. My body convulsed, air tearing at my throat as the rope pulled tighter.
And through it all, the voice returned—low, mocking, satisfied.
"You've saved two… barely. But this next one?"
A pause. A chuckle like knives scraping bone.
"This next one will break you."
The rope tightened again. My vision narrowed.
And I knew—this journey was darker than hell itself.