"And that's it," Moza said.
"That's a goddamn long story," Erthel said with a bland expression.
"So that's how the pillars were made?" Erthel asked.
"Yep. Wanna hear another one?"
"Absolutely not! I don't want to hear another damn long story. I just want to get out of here"
Moza slowly tilted her head down.
"So... you want to leave this place," she said, smirking beneath her mask.
"Ye—"
"Well, you can't," Moza interrupted.
"What?"
Moza lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
"I said you can't leave. I should've told you that earlier"
What should I do then? Erthel thought. I can't just stay stuck here with her. She's probably going to keep telling stories.
His face grew more and more nervous.
"Hmm..." Moza murmured. "I think I know a way"
"You can try to challenge the pillar. After all, you already tried it once."
She paused.
"You just have to find a way out during the trial"
Then she added,
"But you have to challenge the last one"
They walked through the last pillar.
"This one is called Order," Moza said. "And it's the hardest of them all."
Erthel didn't hesitate. He just wanted to leave.
He reached for the Order stone—but suddenly, a mysterious voice drifted from a garden beside the pillar. He turned and saw a woman walking away. He look the surrounding and Moza can't be seen.
A surge of hope filled him. Finally, another person! He ran toward her. But just as he reached out to touch her shoulder, the ground beneath him gave way.
He fell into softness, like landing on clouds, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a blue moon suspended in perfect silence.
Drowning in an endless ocean, he wondered: Is this my end?
As the water dragged him deeper, his strength fading, his body flipped upside down. A flicker of light caught his eye. Summoning the last of his energy, he swam toward it. Time was running out.
It was the pillar—broken, yet glowing. He clutched the stone, struggling against exhaustion. His arms felt like lead, his lungs screaming for air. But in the last instant, he grasped it.
A blinding light erupted. Hands suddenly appeared in the river, pulling him up. He gasped, lungs filling with sweet air.
"Cough… cough…"
For a moment, he lay still, trembling. The stone fell off in his hands. Moza suddenly blockes he's view. "What happened to you?, why did you fall in the river? " she asked.
Erthel slowly got up and looked at the river in front of him.
"I thought I was in a garden"
"Garden?" Moza asked, confused" But there is no garden here"
Before they could process what had happened, they both looked toward the gate. White dust swirled as the gate slowly opened, bathed in radiant light.
"The gate is open!" Erthel said, excitement in his voice.
'How did it open?' Moza wondered. Erthel picked up the stone and rushed toward the stairs. "I can finally get out" He glanced back.
"I can finally leave, right?" he asked Moza.
"Yes," she said.
Behind the mask, she was smiling—but her voice carried a quiet sadness. She knew she would be alone again.
Before climbing the stairs, Erthel stopped and spoke one last time.
"I'll come back. Don't you worry"
He smiled as he walked up the steps.
Moza felt relieved and smiled beneath her mask.
Erthel finally reached the gate. He turned back one last time—but Moza was gone.
"Where did she go? Did she leave?" Then suddenly, he noticed a little girl standing in front of him.
The girl walked toward Erthel. She lifted her arm, her palm open, and looked at him with a bright smile, silently offering her hand so they could walk through the gate together.
Erthel didn't question it. He simply took her hand and stepped through the gate.
From afar, Moza watched. Her eyes widened in shock—then slowly turned into amusement.
"Vanessa…" she whispered.
For the first time, she removed her mask. Her smile widened.
"Who exactly are you, Erthel?" she said softly. "Even that god opened his heart to you"
She giggled quietly.
"Finally… a walking catastrophe will be born to destroy"
Her eyes gleamed with excitement.
"I hope you come back soon… so I can witness you bring everything down"
An ant was crushed beneath a shoe. The other ants scattered in panic, rushing in every direction.
A young boy stood there, wearing a neat suit, short pants, long socks, and black shoes. Three stripes were sewn along the side of his shorts.
"Erthel! I've called you a hundred times already! What are you doing?"
A woman's voice sounded behind him. Erthel turned around. A sweet, candy-like smile appeared on his face—a smile that had been lost for a long time.
"I… was just playing"
He looked at her.
"Mom"
Erthel got up and held his mother's hand.
Suddenly, the back door burst open with a loud bang. It was his aunt. She rushed toward Erthel and picked him up.
"Happy birthday, sweetie!" she said, poking his cheeks playfully.
The house wasn't a typical rich house, but it was comfortable enough for a small family to live in.
They walked inside and saw many people—his uncles, cousins, and relatives. Almost the entire family had gathered to celebrate his ninth birthday.
The living room was full of laughter. Balloons hung from the ceiling while relatives filled every corner of the house.
Govanna, Erthel's aunt, was holding him. She gently set him down, still smiling at him. Then she reached into her bag, pulled out a small box, and handed it to him.
"Thank you, Aunt," Erthel said.
Erthel opened the gift. Inside was a necklace.
His mother, Hanna, knelt beside him and took the necklace from the box.
"Let me put it on you," she said gently as she placed it around his neck.
"How is it?"
"It's beautiful, Mom," Erthel replied with a bright smile.
Suddenly, his father, Lawrence, walked over and lifted him onto his shoulders.
"Happy birthday, bud," he said proudly. "Let me introduce you to everyone"
Erthel had always been very close to his father. Lawrence introduced him to each relative one by one.
After a while, Lawrence set him down again.
"Alright, here you go," he said, pointing to a table filled with presents. "These are all the gifts for you"
There were so many.
Erthel soon wandered outside, greeting the guests who had come to celebrate. He noticed several kids playing nearby, and without thinking, he ran toward them to join the game.
But after a while, a fight broke out between him and another boy. The adults quickly rushed over to separate them. From a distance, someone had been watching. His uncle, Sam.
Later, while Erthel sat alone on a bench, Sam walked over and sat beside him.
"I forgot to bring a gift today," Sam said calmly.
Then he smiled faintly.
"But don't worry. Tomorrow, I'll give you something far better than these gifts."
For some reason, Erthel suddenly felt uneasy.
The air around him felt strange. Like a bad omen was coming.
Lawrence noticed this and instantly grabbed Erthel's hand. His expression was tense, filled with worry. It was clear that the two brothers did not have a good relationship.
"You must stay away from him," his father said, his voice uneasy.
Erthel nodded.
Later that night, while everyone was asleep, Erthel's left eye began to emit a faint white light.
He opened his eyes.
He was standing in front of the entrance to a factory. The building was abandoned, its walls ruined by fire. He remembered seeing it once on the television news.
Slowly, he pushed the door open. The metal hinges groaned loudly in the silence.
Inside, the place was filthy and covered in ash. The air smelled burnt.
He looked around nervously, trying to calm himself. After a while, his fear faded, and he even began wandering around the factory, playing with whatever he could find.
But as he moved deeper inside, something caught his attention.
A door.
Behind it, a faint red light was glowing.
Erthel slowly opened the door. His eyes widened in shock, his heart pounding as a cold shiver ran down his spine.
On the floor lay his father. His body was partially devoured by bugs and rats. Yet, somehow, he was still breathing.
His eyes were gouged out. Bones were shattered and splintered. One leg was gone.
The corpse moved. A wet, struggling breath echoed through the room.
Its eyes met Erthel's, filled with a devastating, deathly stare.
Panic surged through him. He couldn't move. He was frozen with fear.
It crawled slowly toward Erthel. He turned his head—and a voice rang out "Run! Save yourself!"
Erthel stood frozen, unable to move.
Then, a whisper brushed against his ear "Wake up."
The voice spoke again… and again…
Erthel woke up and sat upright, sweating and still shivering. His hands trembled.
"Erthel, get up! It's time for breakfast before school," his mother called from downstairs. He forced himself out of bed and took a quick shower, but even under the hot water, his mind was still trapped in the dream.
He dressed, went downstairs, and sat at the table, staring blankly ahead. Noticing the change, his parents exchanged worried glances.
"Is everything okay, Erthel?" they asked.
He didn't answer.
His mother sat beside him and gently patted his shoulder. Erthel jumped, startled, and let out a frightened shout.
"Are you okay?" his mother asked.
"Yeah… I'm fine," he said, trying to sound calm.
Inside the car, on the way to school, Erthel kept thinking about the dream. He wondered if he should tell his father.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the car came to a stop.
"We're here," his father said.
Erthel zipped his mouth shut and got out of the car. He walked toward the school, still feeling uneasy about not telling him the dream he had.
Throughout the morning, the teachers kept asking if he was all right. Erthel felt unfocused, his mind blank and distant.
At lunch, after finishing his meal and washing his hands, he walked through the cafeteria when a whisper came again and spoke "Dodge to your right!"
He followed the voice without thinking, slipping just in time. A kid who had been about to pat his back stumbled and fell.
Erthel blinked in surprise.
"Do you have eyes on your back or something?!"
It was his best friend, Liam.
He helped him up. They greeted each other like always—friends since kindergarten.
As they walked toward their classroom, they talked.
Whenever they spoke, Erthel felt the weight in his mind lift, if only for a little while.
He was leaving the school when he saw his uncle Sam waiting by his car.
Sam waved as Erthel approached.
"Let's go," Sam said. "Your father can't pick you up today, so I'll do it. Besides, I have a gift for you—today, remember?"
A chill ran down Erthel's spine. Whenever his uncle was near, unease crept over him. He opened the car door—but then, the voice whispered behind in his ears "Don't"
Erthel froze. Sweat ran down his back, and his hands trembled. That voice again but this time it was different voice.
Before he could process what was happening, his uncle interrupted "What are you doing?"
Erthel snapped back to reality and sat down in the car, fear knotting in his stomach. He had gone along with his uncle out of suspicion… and now he wished he hadn't.
As the car drove on, he realized the road was heading nowhere familiar—no houses, no malls, no shops. The road became rougher, bumping beneath the tires.
Then his eyes widened in shock.
The factory from his dream loomed ahead.
The car stopped in front of the building. Sam got out first, then opened the door for Erthel.
Before they stepped inside, Sam's voice cut through the silence "My gift is inside"
His eyes glimmered with a smirk, and his teeth were visible in a menacing smile.
At the entrance, guards stood silently. As they passed through, Erthel noticed several people in suits—employees, seemingly working for Sam.
They walked down the hall when, suddenly, a door from his dream slammed shut in front of them.
"Let's go inside for your gift," Sam murmured.
As they stepped further inside, Sam locked the door behind them. Erthel froze, anxiety coiling tight in his chest. He turned his head—and gasped.
Tied to chairs, a family of three sat helplessly, their faces pale with fear.
Erthel remembered—the kid he had fought with on his birthface "Look closely," Sam's voice hissed, dripping with menace.
He grabbed a knife from the table and slowly approached the father. The blade pressed against his neck.
"You dared to hurt my niece," Sam whispered behind him.
The father sobbed, shaking with terror. "F-Forgive me… please!"
Erthel's hands trembled, and the knife cut into the father's neck, crimson spreading.
"L-Let them go. I'll forgive them," Erthel stammered.
Sam withdrew the knife slowly. "You're no fun, Erthel," he said, a cruel smile twisting his face. "Here's the thing—you have authority. Something must be done. Those who oppose you… they must be grounded. That's life. They won't help you. And once they leave your sight… they'll come back to bite you."
Without warning, Sam slit the father's throat. The mother screamed. The children cried.
Erthel stood frozen, unmoving.
Then Sam pulled out a gun and shot the mother. He grabbed one of the children and advanced toward Erthel, the gun in one hand, a sinister grin on his face.
Erthel rushed to the door, desperately trying to unlock it. But Sam grabbed him from behind. Sam forced the knife into Erthel's trembling hands and slowly guided it forward—driving the blade into the child's chest.
Erthel dropped the knife instantly, his body shaking violently.
Sam burst into loud laughter. Then, suddenly, sirens wailed in the distance.
Erthel slowly regained his senses. His breathing steadied. He grabbed the knife from the floor and stabbed it into Sam's leg.
Sam screamed in pain and shoved Erthel away.
In fury, Sam pulled out his gun and pointed it at Erthel's head. Just as he was about to pull the trigger—The door burst open.
Someone charged in, knocking Sam's arm aside and sending the shot wildly off target before landing a heavy punch across Sam's face. Erthel looked up and it was his father.
Lawrence knocked Sam to the ground and rushed toward Erthel "Are you okay?" he asked, helping him up.
But then Lawrence froze. Sam was standing at the doorway. His body trembled as he struggled to raise the gun. His eyes were dark—empty—like a puppet being controlled. Slowly, Sam lifted the gun and pointed it at Lawrence's head.
Bang.
The shot echoed through the room.
Lawrence collapsed to the floor. Erthel's mind shattered. His eyes trembled as he fell to the ground, struggling to breathe.
His vision spun. One eye pressed against the cold floor while the other blurred, barely able to see. Through the haze, he saw Sam raising the gun toward him. Then another gunshot rang out.
Sam's head snapped back as the bullet struck him. Police officers rushed through the doorway. They saw Erthel lying on the floor. Moments later, his mother burst into the room.
"Erthel!" she cried.
Hanna rushed toward him, but the police held her back while the medical team pushed forward. Paramedics surrounded Erthel, their voices distant and muffled. His vision slowly faded.
Darkness crept in—until his eyes finally closed.
A woman's voice softly sang a lullaby.
Slowly, a pair of eyes began to open, their vision blurred.
"Ah… she finally opened her eyes," the woman whispered.
Tiny hands reached out as the baby began to cry.
"Look how beautiful she is," the woman said gently.
The baby turned her head slightly and saw a man standing in the kitchen. He quickly ran toward them.
She couldn't see their faces clearly, but their voices were warm and clear.
"What should we name her?" the woman asked. The man looked down at the child in her arms.
"She was born into the Aevaryn family," he said softly. "She should have a beautiful name."
The woman smiled faintly.
"Born into the breath of life… and the endless cycle of rebirth," she whispered.
"Like the sound of the wind across the sky… light as a feather."
She looked down at the baby with loving eyes.
"My little one… Erthel"