An old memory surfaced in his mind—
"Remember to use your power only when it comes to life or death."
As Levant went for the finishing blow, a sudden burst of white light exploded from Shio. The force flung Levant backward, along with the corpse restraining him, snapping every string holding him in place.
"What... what is this?" Levant muttered, dazed and confused.
The light faded. Shio stood tall, silent.
A strange aura began to radiate from him. The air shifted. Heavy. Charged.
Levant stared at Shio, trembling. His left eye was glowing white, pulsing with a mysterious mark—an ancient sigil alive with power.
Elsewhere in the Labyrinth…
An adventurer paused mid-step.
"Did you feel that?" he asked another waiting adventurer.
"Yeah... something's changed."
All throughout the Labyrinth, adventurers stopped. A wave of immense energy passed over them—indescribable and primal.
"The tales... they were true," someone whispered."The boy with the mark—the one whose power could either save the world… or destroy it."
A voice echoed from the depths.
"This is only the beginning. That mark holds far more than you know."
Then—Shio's eye pulsed again.
The room went completely white.
Everything vanished.
Pure white surrounded him.
Stillness. Silence.
A faint voice called out:
"Hide... wake up, Hide."
His eyes opened slowly.
Bright lights flooded his vision—sterile, artificial. He was lying on a cold metal table, wearing a hospital gown in a clean, silent room. The light buzzed faintly overhead.
He sat up, dazed.
"Where... am I?"
"Subject has awakened, sir," came a voice from behind thick glass.
"How long was he asleep?" another voice asked.
"Three days. We've kept him under full sedation until now."
"Good. Begin preparations. The experiments will resume."
Hide stood and stepped off the table. A mechanical voice guided him:
"Hide, please proceed to the Health Department for your post-dream analysis."
A panel on the side wall hissed open, revealing a hallway. He stepped through, his bare feet touching the cold metal floor. Surveillance cameras tracked him silently as he passed.
Children peered from their cells as he walked by—each in their own small, sterile room.
He arrived at the health ward. Two guards stood outside the door. They nodded and let him in.
Inside, he found his assigned room. He laid down on another metal table.
Without warning, mechanical straps clamped around his wrists and ankles.
Moments later, a man in a white lab coat entered.
His name tag read: Director Hojo.
"Hide," Hojo said flatly, "tell me—why didn't you use your power during the last experiment? It led to your death."
Hide didn't answer.
Hojo pulled out a syringe filled with a strange, glowing liquid and injected it into Hide's arm.
He scribbled a few notes on a clipboard, eyes flicking over Hide's restrained body.
From somewhere down the hall, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence.
Hide flinched.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Torture," Hojo answered casually. "A boy in the next room killed a guard. He's being punished.
"Don't you remember? When you killed twelve guards during your last episode?"
"Twelve?" Hide whispered, trying to recall.
His mind was hazy—fragments of memory floating just out of reach.
How did he even get here? Back to facing the harsh truth and reality.