Renji Arakawa's lungs burned as he drew another trembling breath.Once again, he had awakened. Once again, he stood in the forest of black trees.
But now, it was different. The decay was worse. The soil beneath him was darker, almost tar-like, and when he pulled his hand away from it, sticky strands clung to his skin. The air reeked of rot.
Above him, the crow perched on the branch just as before, its red eyes glowing faintly in the thickening fog. It said nothing this time. No caw. No mocking cry. Just silence.
Renji staggered back, his throat dry.
"Three times… I've died three times." His voice cracked. "And every time… the world gets worse."
His mind reeled with questions. Why was he here? Why this forest? Why him?
But above all—what did it mean that every time he died, the cracks in the sky grew?
He clenched his fists, trying to stop the shaking. "No… I can't die again. If I keep dying… this place will collapse."
The words felt absurd. And yet, he knew they were true. The evidence was all around him: the rotting trees, the suffocating fog, the spreading fractures above.
His body remembered the claws. His skull still ached from the tearing pain of his memories being stripped away. He tried again to recall his mother's face, and found nothing. Just a blank void where love should have been.
A sharp laugh bubbled in his throat, manic, desperate. "Great… I'm losing my family, I'm losing the world, and I'm losing myself."
The fog stirred.
Renji froze.
This time, however, it wasn't the same gray monster.
Shapes moved within the mist—smaller, quicker, less distinct. Their limbs scraped along the ground, dragging, twitching.
Renji's breath quickened. "More…? There are more of them?"
The fog thickened like smoke, swallowing the trees, curling toward him like fingers. And from its depths, glowing orbs appeared—eyes. Dozens. Hundreds.
"No…"
His instincts screamed. He ran.
The ground sucked at his shoes with every step, like the soil itself wanted to hold him back. He stumbled, nearly fell, but forced himself forward, deeper into the woods.
The eyes followed. The shapes followed. He heard scraping, clicking, the sound of many limbs dragging across the earth.
He didn't dare look back.
Branches whipped his face, cutting shallow lines into his skin. His lungs burned, his legs screamed with pain, but he kept running. He had to.
Then—
"Renji."
A whisper. A voice.
It was close. Too close. Right beside his ear.
He flinched, spinning around. But no one was there. Only fog.
The voice was female. The same voice as before—the one that had whispered Don't die.
His heart pounded louder. "Who's there?!"
No answer.
Only the fog. Only the scraping.
But the voice had distracted him. His foot caught on a root. He fell hard, smashing into the wet ground. Pain shot through his knee.
The shadows closed in. Shapes darted closer, claws clicking against the earth.
Renji screamed and crawled backward, desperate.
Then—light.
A blade of pale white light sliced through the fog.
The shadows recoiled, hissing. The light cut them apart, scattering them like smoke.
Renji raised an arm to shield his eyes. Through the glare, he saw a figure step forward.
It was a girl.
She wore a cloak of pale cloth that shimmered faintly against the darkness. Her hair was long, white as snow, her eyes a sharp silver that glowed faintly like the cracks in the sky. She held a slender blade in her hand, its edge gleaming with the same strange light.
She looked at him—expression unreadable.
Renji's voice cracked. "Who… who are you?"
The girl lowered the blade slightly, but did not sheathe it. Her gaze flicked to the crow on the branch. The bird cawed once, sharp, before flying off into the fog.
Only then did she speak.
"You're the new one."
Renji blinked, stunned. "The… new one?"
She stepped closer, her boots silent against the wet ground. The fog seemed to bend away from her, refusing to touch her.
"You've died. More than once already, haven't you?"
Renji's throat tightened. He swallowed hard. "You… you know?"
Her silver eyes narrowed slightly. "Every death leaves a scar. On you. On this world. The cracks above are your fault."
Renji froze. "My… fault?"
Her gaze sharpened, like a blade. "Do you think your respawn is a gift? A cheat? It's a curse. Every time you fall, this world dies with you."
The words slammed into him like another claw to the chest.
Renji staggered back, shaking his head violently. "No… no, I didn't ask for this! I didn't—"
The girl raised a hand, silencing him.
"Quiet. The Mist hears everything."
Renji clamped his mouth shut.
The shapes had retreated, but their glowing eyes still lingered in the fog, watching. Waiting.
The girl's silver gaze softened—barely. "If you want to live, follow me. If you want the world to survive… don't die again."
She turned, walking deeper into the forest.
Renji stared after her, his chest heaving. He didn't trust her. He didn't even understand her. But what choice did he have? Alone, he'd already died three times.
"Don't die again…" he muttered.
He forced his trembling legs to move and followed.
The girl led him through the forest in silence.
The fog parted before her and closed behind her, as though obeying her will. The ground grew firmer, the air less suffocating, though still heavy with decay.
Finally, they reached a clearing. At its center stood a ruined stone altar, cracked and moss-covered, its surface etched with symbols Renji didn't recognize. The cracks in the sky above were directly overhead, spilling faint purple light onto the stone.
The girl stopped.
Renji panted, trying to catch his breath. "Where… where are we?"
She placed her hand on the altar. "The first Respawn Point."
Renji stiffened. "Respawn…?"
She turned, meeting his eyes. "You've already realized it. Every time you die, you return here. This altar anchors you. It keeps you from vanishing completely."
Renji's mind spun. He looked at the cracked stone, then at the sky. "Then why… why does the world collapse each time I come back?"
Her expression darkened. "Because nothing returns without taking something with it. You rise again, but the world pays the price. This place is not infinite. One day, there will be nothing left to respawn into."
Renji's knees weakened. He sank onto the damp ground, clutching his head. "Then… what am I supposed to do? Just… survive forever?"
The girl's voice was quiet, but firm. "Yes."
Renji laughed bitterly. "Survive… against things like that?" He pointed toward the fog, where the faint glow of countless eyes still lingered. "I don't even have a weapon!"
The girl studied him for a long moment. Then, she extended the pale blade toward him, hilt first.
Renji stared. "You're… giving me this?"
Her silver gaze didn't waver. "No. I'm lending it. If you die, it returns to me."
Renji hesitated. His hands shook as he reached out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. The blade was lighter than it looked, but it thrummed faintly, like it was alive.
The girl turned away. "You will face the Mist. If you fall again, the cracks will spread further. This world doesn't need another weak Respawner."
Renji's breath caught. "Wait—'another'?"
She paused. For a moment, the air felt colder.
"There are others like you," she said at last. "Some respawners fight for survival. Others… for destruction."
She looked back at him, silver eyes gleaming like shattered glass.
"Pray you never meet them."
The fog stirred.
The eyes returned—closer now. Dozens, maybe hundreds, circling the clearing.
Renji gripped the pale blade tightly, his pulse racing.
The girl raised her hand, and the blade in his grip flared brighter.
"Your first trial begins," she said. "Don't die."
And the Mist descended.