The climb up the spiral stairs of doom turned out to be surprisingly easy now that he was fully rejuvenated.
Like before, the voice stayed quiet the entire way. It only spoke once they reached the top.
'Go through the door.' It said softly.
He didn't need instructions for that. He was more than happy to leave that nightmare behind, and for the first time in his life, crawling back into his favorite hole actually sounded comforting.
As he moved closer, he could feel something was wrong. Not in the sense that he might get killed or anything. It was more of a feeling he couldn't explain, especially with the shift in the voice's tone and behavior.
But he did as he was told. He stepped through, and somehow, he wasn't in the well anymore.
He was standing in pure white.
It was an empty space, like someone forgot to draw the rest of the world.
"What is this?" he asked nervously.
'You did well.'
He turned and saw a figure. Tall, but its face was blurry. Still, he knew it was the voice in his head. He squinted, trying to make out his face, but he couldn't. Yet he felt like he knew the man.
"Where are we?" he asked quietly.
'This is where we part. You did well. Now it's time for you to leave this place.'
A broken laugh escaped his lips. "What are you talking about?"
'Your trial is over. It's time for you to return to your body,' the voice said softly.
"That's the plan," he said. "So let's go. Where's the door?"
'Not us, Shiro. It's just you.'
He laughed again—short, shaky, the kind that didn't reach his chest. "Yeah. Sure. Quit messing around."
'I am sorry, Shiro,' the man muttered. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked anyway, betraying him.
That was when Shiro realized he wasn't joking. He was serious.
Something inside him dropped.
Tears blurred his vision until he couldn't tell if the man was disappearing… or if his own eyes were failing him. He reached out anyway, grasping blindly, terrified that letting go would make the man vanish.
"Please don't leave me," he begged, his worst nightmare coming to life—his deepest fear finally coming true.
Just then, something shot up from below and wrapped around his arms and body. It clung to him like fabric, but wrong. Stretchy. Rubbery. Cold. Dark.
Right before it pulled him down, the voice pressed a shard into his chest, holding it there like it mattered.
'This was given to me by someone I admired,' the man said, his voice unsteady. 'Now I pass it down to you. Please… take good care of it.'
His breath hitched.
'I'm sorry. That's all I can offer you.'
Then the shadows closed in and dragged him under.
He thrashed wildly, panic surging past the numbness.
"No—wait!" He turned toward the shadows, his voice breaking. "Let go of me!"
But they didn't listen. The shadows dragged him down anyway.
The voice watched as he was pulled farther away, the figure growing smaller. He fought back harder. With everything he had, he ripped one hand free, then tore away the rest of the shadowy fabric, freeing himself.
He shot upward, the shadows following, trying to pull him back down. When the man saw him, he shouted,
"No—what are you doing?"
There was concern in his tone, almost like seeing him again made the goodbye more difficult.
He reached the man and wrapped his arms around him. The shadows wrapped around his legs, trying to drag him away.
"Please," he whispered. "Don't leave me."
Tears rained down as his grip tightened. "Without you… I'll be alone again. I promise I won't call you parasite or any more names."
The shadows pulled harder, but the man held him.
'Please, give me a moment,' the man shouted at the emptiness, and the shadows loosened their grip on his foot.
The man's gaze met his. He still couldn't make out his face.
'Please, listen to me,' the man said, his voice low. 'I don't belong here. I'm only here because you reached into the void and pulled me out of the dark. The only reason we met is because I was the last thing you saw as you crossed the line between life and death. In that moment—without realizing it—you chose me to guide you.'
His voice wavered.
'And now… it's time for me to return to where you pulled me from.'
He froze, confusion locking him in place. None of it made sense.
He opened his mouth to ask what the man meant. Just then, he felt the man's tears hitting his shoulder.
'You will meet many people. You will be okay.'
"No… no," he muttered, shaking his head as he pressed his face against the man's chest. He didn't move. He couldn't.
'Shiro,' the man said softly. 'I promise. Once you leave this cursed island, you will meet many people. Have many friends.'
His grip tightened, desperate, like he was clinging to a single thread. "No."
The man gently took his hands and slowly unwrapped them.
'I'm sorry, Shiro.'
He froze as the man placed a hand on his shoulder. Tears streamed down until they stopped. The man sounded happy, almost joyful.
'I don't have any regrets. I'm glad I was given the opportunity to watch you grow. Even if I am stuck here for the rest of my life, I have no regrets.'
Before he could understand what the man meant, the man lightly flicked his forehead.
'Goodbye… my precious—'
"Huh?"
The man only waved.
Shiro reached out as the world blurred. Shadows wrapped around him, dragging him down faster and faster. The man's figure shrank, fading into the dark until he was gone.
"I swear I'll find a way. I'll free you," he said, his voice breaking.