Luka's eyes snapped open as if an invisible force had plucked him from the depths of his soul and slammed him onto the stony ground of reality.
His heart was hammering against his ribs like a caged bird, desperate to break free.
Behind his closed eyelids, the scene still flickered—the velvet meadows, the mixture of tender love and maternal wrath on the Mother's face.
The graceful way she lifted her gown to move forward, and then that sudden, crumbling sky, charring at the edges like burning paper.
He was drenched in sweat.
As he turned, a barrage of questions trembled on his lips, ready to pour out.
But as his gaze landed on what stood before him, the part of his mind that had just been a vibrant world turned as blank as a white sheet.
The dampness and darkness of the air were now his only reality.
There was no sign of that terrifying void, nor any echo of that haunting voice.
That name—the one that had made his very soul shudder moments ago—had vanished like lines drawn on water.
Luka narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of his memory.
But the word slipped further into the dark well of oblivion the harder he tried to grasp it.
Then, piercing the heavy silence, a voice as sweet as honey echoed—
"Luka... are you awake?"
Lane sat before him.
His face was as clear and serene as a mirror.
As the dim light of the dungeon fell upon his eyes, the same old, naive spark glinted like a drop of dew.
Lane leaned forward slightly and asked with great tenderness:
"Did you get enough sleep? Your eyelids and eyes still look quite heavy... were you able to rest well?"
Luka stared at him, frozen like a stone statue.
There was a bitterness in his throat because he knew he had just felt a glimpse of the apocalypse, hidden right behind this innocent face.
Lane took a long, cold breath and lowered his gaze, appearing genuinely remorseful.
"I apologize to you, Luka. I shouldn't have exhausted you so much. You are in this state because of me."
Suddenly, the voice of the older boy rang out from the other corner of the cell.
He shifted forward slightly, but his usual arrogance was gone.
His face was pale, and he was repeatedly rubbing his fingers, which were still recovering from that 'ice of death' chill.
He stammered, "Hey... you... who were you talking to? You were screaming something in your sleep."
"And this... this kid..."
He cast a terrified glance at Lane, "He seemed like something else entirely just a moment ago."
Lane slowly raised his head.
A simple smile played on his lips, but that smile seemed to drop the temperature of the cell even further.
"Perhaps you are exhausted too," Lane said in a very low voice.
Luka clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.
He realized that the greatest secret was sitting right in front of him, draped in innocence.
He understood now that this child was no helpless companion.
But a hunter who had donned the most exquisite mask of innocence to deceive the world.
The spark of suspicion smoldering in Luka's mind was fanned into a flame by the older boy's words.
Luka's neck turned slowly, his deep, piercing eyes locking onto the boy's face.
His voice held a strange heaviness, as if he were peeling back the layers of a hidden truth.
"What... what are you saying?" Luka asked in a low voice.
Yet his words echoed sharply through the cramped dungeon.
"What happened to Lane while I... while I was asleep?"
"Tell me everything. Clearly."
The older boy took a long breath and leaned his back against the cold stone wall.
The horror of that moment was still etched in his eyes.
He cast a sideways glance at Lane—who sat there in unsettling silence—and then turned back to Luka.
"While you were in a deep slumber, this child... he was at the brink of death," the boy began to explain, detail by agonizing detail.
"His entire body turned cold as stone."
"The agony on his face was enough to melt a heart of granite."
"It felt as though some invisible force was ripping the very life out of him."
"I tried to hold him, but the moment I touched him, my fingers went numb—as if I had reached into the frost of a literal grave."
"And then... suddenly, a silence fell."
"A silence so terrifying that my own heartbeat felt like a deafening noise."
Luka listened, his fists tightening further.
Every word the boy spoke aligned perfectly with those blurred memories he hadn't been able to grasp.
He realized that while he was in that meadow within his dream, here in reality, 'Chaos' was playing its own sinister game.
Luka closed his eyes for a moment, then looked into the boy's eyes and asked:
"What is your name?"
The boy wiped his face with his dusty sleeve and replied calmly:
My name is Yuri."
Luka repeated the name in his mind.
In Yuri's eyes, he saw a glimmer of honesty—the kind of honesty he needed most at this moment.
He noticed that Yuri wasn't looking at Lane as a helpless child, but as a mysterious, unsolvable puzzle.
Luka absorbed Yuri's words into his soul.
He was now certain that Lane's innocent face was nothing more than a protective shield.
He slowly fixed his gaze back on Lane, who remained as silent as a still ocean.
Luka realized that two sides had now formed in this dungeon.
On one side stood he and Yuri, and on the other stood the 'Mask' they called Lane.
After hearing Yuri's truth, a remarkable stillness settled over Luka's face.
For a few moments, he remained absolutely motionless, as if weighing Yuri's words against Lane's mysterious silence on a scale.
The sound of his own heavy breathing, echoing off the dungeon walls, made the silence even deeper.
Luka fixed his gaze on Yuri—a gaze that no longer held doubt, but a new kind of acceptance.
Luka extended his palm toward Yuri.
His words carried a weight, filled with gratitude and trust.
"Yuri," Luka said, looking him straight in the eye, "you helped my friend when he was at death's door."
"You took care of him, even though you didn't know me or him."
"Would you like to be my friend?"
"In this dark and uncertain journey, I want to make a friend I can truly rely on."
Luka's proposal had barely hung in the air when a sudden commotion broke out.
Lane, who had been sitting like a stone statue until now, suddenly sprang from his place.
He moved with the speed of lightning and stood right in front of Luka.
His golden eyes no longer held that calm spark.
Instead, a sharp sting of jealousy and agony was clearly visible.
"Luka!"
There was a tremor in Lane's voice, as if he were losing control over his emotions.
"You... you haven't asked me for friendship even once until now!"
"We came all this way together, we spent so much time together, but you never considered me your friend?"
"And today, this new boy, who has just spoken a few words—you are extending a hand of friendship to him?"
Lane's voice echoed through the dungeon walls.
His face was caught somewhere between anger and sorrow.
"This is wrong, Luka. This is utterly wrong!"
"You are choosing a stranger and ignoring me?"
Luka observed this reaction of Lane very closely.
This side of Lane—his possessive manner of asserting authority—deepened Luka's suspicion that a massive game was being played behind Lane's innocence.
There was a practiced silence in Luka's eyes.
He wanted to see just how much further Lane would go in this 'jealousy.'
Luka did not move from his spot.
He simply began to gaze at Lane with his deep and steady eyes.
He was reading every flicker on Lane's face, every glint in his eyes, as if studying an ancient, unsolved book.
The silence of the dungeon grew even heavier with the weight of Luka's profound thoughts.
Suddenly, Luka raised his hand and, with great ease, gave Lane a gentle, playful pat on the head.
A smile played on his lips—one that was both mysterious and comforting.
"We are already friends, Lane," Luka said in a calm voice.
"Do you want me to break our old friendship just to start anew?"
"We have been together in this journey since the very first day, so why even ask this question?"
Luka's words worked like magic.
The jealousy and agony that had clouded Lane's face vanished in an instant.
In its place appeared a very sweet and gentle smile.
A sparkle ignited in his eyes that could melt anyone's heart.
With sheer innocence, Lane extended his hand toward Luka and chirped:
"Then... formalize the friendship with me first, Luka!"
Luka sat there, looking at Lane's glowing face.
Lane's innocence was so perfect that Luka's hand moved toward him of its own accord.
He took Lane's hand and said, "Would you like to be my friend?"
But at that moment, a massive war broke out within Luka.
Every heartbeat rising in his chest was racing down two different paths.
His mind was screaming at him, shouting warnings.
It reminded him of the ice-like chill of the dungeon, Yuri's statement, and that vanished word—'Chaos'.
His logic insisted that Lane was dangerous, a hunter who had woven a web of innocence.
Yet, at the same time, Luka's heart was feeling something entirely different.
Lane's honey-sweet voice and that lovely smile had birthed a strange kind of trust within Luka.
His heart told him that no matter what happened to the world, Lane would never hurt him.
Lane's existence might be mysterious, but for Luka, he was a shield, not a threat.
Luka held Lane's hand firmly, but the confusion remained lingering in his eyes.
He stood at a crossroads where on one side lay a clearly visible lie.
And on the other, a truth that he could feel but could not see.