Rey stepped onto the factory grounds.
Empty.
Silent.
The target counter floated in his vision:
<7 / 34>
No new messages. No map. Only that cruel number counting down his victims.
Suppressing his unease, Rey slipped inside the building.
That's when he saw them.
Jacob's thugs. Dozens of them.
They were dragging people into a locked storage room—people from Rey's memories. Faces he recognized. Friends. Strangers. Even Evan was among them.
A harsh realization struck him.
This dream world… is built from my memories.
But then… why couldn't he remember the assassins he killed earlier? Where had he seen them before?
He shook the question away. No time.
I can't let Evan see me like this.
Even in a dream, the thought terrified him. If he lost control again… if that "other" side emerged… would Evan recognize him? Could he even forgive him?
Rey tore strips from his bloodstained T-shirt and fashioned a makeshift mask, concealing his face.
Daggers in hand—the ones he took from Agent 7—he felt oddly… calm.
They fit him.
Like they belonged in his hands.
Even though he didn't understand why.
He crouched low, scanning the area. Charging in would be suicide. If they used hostages as shields, he'd never save them.
He needed a plan.
And then, as if hearing Aiden whisper in his mind, the idea came.
"Sorry, Aiden… guess you really were a genius."
Eyes narrowing, Rey gathered a handful of small pebbles.
The hunt began.
He spotted a lone thug stationed near the perimeter.
Perfect.
Rey lobbed a pebble. It struck the man's shoulder.
"Huh?"
The thug turned—just in time to see a figure sprinting away, appearing like a frightened hostage attempting to flee.
The bait worked.
Grumbling curses, the thug gave chase.
Rey led him deeper into the shadows… then vanished.
The thug smirked, creeping forward towards what he thought was an easy kill.
But all he found was a piece of cloth tied to a box.
Confused, he turned—too late.
A blade slid effortlessly between his ribs.
Rey covered his mouth, silencing the scream as the life drained from his body.
The status screen flickered:
<8 / 34>
Rey exhaled silently.
He was on the right path.
He dragged the corpse behind the boxes, covering it as best as he could.
Then he waited.
Footsteps.
Two more.
They were calling for their missing friend.
Before they could notice the blood trail, Rey struck from behind.
Swift. Silent. Efficient.
<10 / 34>
Their bodies vanished into the growing graveyard Rey was building in the shadows.
The pattern continued.
Hour after hour.
Bodies piled up, hidden among crates and machinery. Not one scream escaped. Not a single shot fired.
A silent massacre.
When Rey finally paused to check his count, the screen flashed coldly:
<29 / 34>
Only five remained.
Somewhere near the hostage room, two remaining guards stood watch.
One of them, finally realizing no one had returned, grew nervous.
"Check on the others," he ordered his partner.
After a moment's hesitation, the thug obeyed.
Poor choice.
The lone thug moved through the dark, heart pounding.
Blood drops on the floor.
He followed them.
Each step felt heavier.
A chill crept down his spine—the eerie sensation of being hunted.
He tried to shake it off.
Then… he saw it.
A hand.
Limp. Motionless.
Peeking out from behind rusted machinery.
Gun raised, he crept forward, every nerve screaming to run.
He found the body.
Dead.
Eyes frozen in terror.
Suddenly, he felt it.
Not just fear.
Not just danger.
Death itself.
Standing there, at the edge of the makeshift junkyard, was a boy.
No… not a boy.
A shadow wearing human skin.
A youth, his face masked, eyes hollow, clutching a dagger slick with fresh blood.
Behind him… a mound.
Not of dirt.
But of corpses.
The thug's phone fell from his trembling hands. His partner's voice crackled faintly from the other end, but he no longer heard it.
His body refused to move.
His mind refused to understand.
Before him stood death.
And death had a name.
Rey.
In Rey's mind, red warnings flickered.
But he didn't notice.
The system screamed at him.
Above the factory, unseen by Rey, a figure shimmered into view.
Aiden.
The relic spirit.
Hovering silently in the night sky, he watched the slaughter below.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
"Oh boy… looks like our little Rey's carrying something far more dangerous than I thought. Even the laws themselves can't control him."
His gaze darkened.
"I'll need to intervene soon… or there won't be a Rey left to save."
--> To be Continued
What happens next?
Will Rey break free from this nightmare?
Or will he die yet again, trapped in an endless loop of death?
Only destiny—or perhaps the author—knows.
Stay tuned.