He felt nothing.
No pain, no sadness, no happiness, no fear he was numb to it all. It was as if he had lost every single emotion he had.
He just stood there while his mother dragged him along. He didn't argue or put up any fight. He just left with her.
When the demons killed his mother, he didn't even shed a tear or make a sound. And then… he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he was back. Right there. At the time the demons first entered the settlement.
Just like before… it had restarted.
While everyone was running, he just sat, waiting for his mother to come and drag him away…only to be killed again.
But this time, during the chaos, he saw something.
A shadowy figure in the midst of the demons.
It wasn't there the last time.
He quickly got up and tried to follow it. In the time he'd spent in this place, he already knew the paths the demons always took, so he knew where to avoid.
He continued moving, getting closer to the figure.
He could hear the cries of the people, children, parents begging for their childrens lives, only to be struck down.
His heart sank. It felt as if it was his fault. Even though he had done nothing… he still felt at fault.
He couldn't do anything but cry.
Then, from behind his ear, he heard his mother calling for him. He started sobbing even harder because he knew he couldn't save her.
He looked back, seeing nothing but flames and smoke…buildings burning, screams echoing. Then he looked forward again.
The heat licked his skin as ash floated around him like black snow. His legs trembled with each step, but he forced himself to keep moving. This wasn't real… was it?
He wiped his eyes and kept moving.
But no matter how many times he wiped them… he couldn't stop the tears.
His hands were shaking. His chest tightened with each breath. The scent of blood and charred wood was thick in the air, making him want to vomit. But he didn't. He couldn't afford to stop.
Then he heard it. His mother's voice….crying.
But he just kept moving.
"Mum! Mum!! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I couldn't save any of you! Please forgive me!!"
He fell to his knees. He couldn't run anymore. The grief was too much.
The stones beneath him were still warm from the fire. Smoke burned his lungs as he sobbed into the darkness. He gripped the ground like it could somehow bring them back.
"Mum… please… wherever you are… forgive me! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!"
His tears flowed uncontrollably. He had nothing left. He couldn't hold it in.
And then… he heard her voice again.
And the voices of demons.
Or more like… the sounds of beasts without hearts.
Their guttural howls scraped against his ears, each one sending a shiver through his soul. The ground vibrated with their footsteps. The air turned cold… unnaturally cold.
And in one fell swoop….his mother's voice stopped.
He knew what had happened.
He waited for the cycle to restart.
But it didn't.
The screams of the villagers continued. One byone, they were killed. Children. Mothers. Fathers. Families… all torn apart for no reason.
The sky above twisted with swirling black clouds as if the world itself mourned with him. He was alone….truly alone…in a nightmare with no end.
Then… from behind him… a voice.
"Can you feel it?
The pain… the suffering… the regret you tried to bury deep within?"
Alarion looked up, trying to see who was talking… but no one was there.
His vision darted from left to right, but all he could see were burning houses, structures reduced to skeletal remains, smoldering wood collapsing in on itself. The orange blaze licked the sky like starving tongues, and thick black smoke painted the air with suffocating darkness. Flames hissed, and the sickening scent of burning flesh clung to his nostrils like rot.
Yet suddenly… everything went silent.
The screaming. The cries. The roar of collapsing buildings. It all vanished in a heartbeat
All that remained was the voice.
"It was your fault."
The words echoed directly in his ear, but no one was near. Alarion spun around again, but the street remained eerily still…frozen in fire, yet lifeless.
"They all died because of you."
"You caused it."
"No… no, it isn't true!" he shouted, trembling, "I didn't do anything!"
But even as he said it, his voice cracked.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he fell to his knees, clutching his head. The memories he tried so hard to bury now resurfaced, raw and vivid. His mother's cries. The way she screamed his name… just before the shadow swallowed her whole.
"You let her die."
The voice stabbed into his chest with invisible claws. Alarion's breath hitched. He clenched his fists tighter until blood pricked from his palms.
"I wish I was strong enough to save her…" he whispered.
The world around him started to crack.
Like thin glass under pressure, the ground beneath him fractured with long jagged lines. The sky split open like a shattered mirror, revealing nothing but endless darkness beyond it.
Alarion staggered to his feet, looking around in confusion. The burning village was collapsing like a dream fading. The memory was crumbling… and so was he.
He looked down at his arms,his skin had begun to break apart. First in tiny hairline fractures… then wider, deeper. Chunks of his form began falling like shattered porcelain, revealing more darkness underneath.
But he didn't scream.
He didn't run.
He simply… closed his eyes.
"Mum… everyone… I'm sorry," he muttered.
"I was the only one that survived. I should've died too."
The final crack shot across his chest and up through his throat. The image of his village….his life before everything ended…splintered completely.
"But I promise… if I escape this place… I'll avenge you all."
He said it through sobs, as the last pieces of him gave way to the void.
His eyes snapped open.
Alarion gasped, sitting up like he'd just been yanked out of drowning waters. His body was covered in cold sweat, his breaths shallow and sharp.
The dungeon around him was dead silent far too silent. The oppressive air pressed against his lungs like a weight, and the ancient carvings on the stone walls seemed to shimmer faintly, almost watching him.
He touched his chest.
Still whole.
Still breathing.
Was that just… a dream? he thought. No. It felt too real,he could still feel the pain in his heart. That guilt. That voice his past was never truly gone…it was buried, waiting to be unearthed.
"Damn it," he whispered, leaning against the wall and curling his fingers into his hair. "Why am I so weak…?"
The silence offered no answer.
But something had changed.
There was a pressure in his chest. A fire..not of destruction, but of resolve. The memory hadn't broken him. It had reminded him. He couldn't let their deaths be in vain. He had a purpose now, no matter how painful.
He stood up slowly, wiping his face.
"I will keep my promise," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Even if it kills me."
His journey wasn't over.
And for the first time… he was no longer running from the past