The forest was quiet. Peaceful, almost. Except for the sound of sobbing echoing through the silence.
Ravin was curled up in a ball, knees held tightly against his chest. He had been in this position for a long time. At first, he had been crying, shouting, and scratching at his own face.
He thought he had gotten used to pain. After all he went through in his previous world, and now dying again and again by exploding, he believed nothing could truly break him anymore.
He was wrong.
Nothing could compare to his last death.
He didn't remember the creature's face. Only its pitch-black eyes. Looking at him without any sympathy, as if he were just… food.
His eyes were clenched shut, almost painfully. Yet whenever he opened them, even for a moment, he imagined seeing those eyes again, staring back at him.
"It's fine," he whispered.
"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine…"
He repeated the words like a mantra, his voice breaking between sobs. Again and again. As if saying it enough times would make it true. As if everything would be fine if he just kept repeating it.
The sky was darkening by the time Ravin finally forced himself to stand.
He looked down at his arms and legs, then reached up to touch his head. As if confirming everything was still there. As if confirming he was fine.
"Yes," he muttered quietly, remembering something from the past . "I should smile. Just like she told me to."
He pulled his lips into a smile which didn't reach his eyes.
Tears slid down his cheeks anyway, but he kept smiling, his expression stiff and unnatural.
"I need to avoid that creature," he said. "No matter what. I never… ever want to see it again."
With that fragile resolve, he turned toward the tower, naively thinking it would save him.
The sky had darkened further, yet Ravin was still standing before the massive gates, trying to figure out how to open them.
Then he heard it.
A low sound.
Growl was the closest word he could think of to describe it.
He would have missed it if the forest weren't completely silent, but before he could even turn, monstrous pain bloomed in his head—
---
"It's fine. Maybe I should go into the forest this time."
He headed deeper between the trees, his smile still fixed in place, dried tears clinging to his face.
He walked on, steps unsteady but determined. Yet, no matter how far he went, the scenery never changed.
Endless trees.
Endless fruits.
Endless silence.
The sky had darkened again and he still couldn't find anything. Remembering what had happened the last time, his breathing quickened. Suddenly, he broke into a run.
He tried to climb the nearest tree, fingers scraping desperately against the bark, but before he could pull himself up—
Something pierced through his back.
---
This time, he hid behind the white marble slate, as if it would protect him.
It didn't.
The last thing he saw was his blood dripping onto the smooth surface of the slate, accompanied by a distant sound—probably the creature.
---
This time, he climbed a tree and stayed there.
He clung to the branches, waiting. Waiting for the night to pass.
Yet—
---
"Why?" Ravin shouted, his voice hoarse. "Why can't I do anything?"
His knees hit the ground.
"Please," he begged. "Someone… anyone… please help me."
For the first time in his life, he begged.
Hot tears streamed down his face. His eyes burned, swollen and red.
He had tried.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He had lost count of how many times he had died. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, it always ended the same way.
By now, he knew what the creature looked like. An uneven form, barely deserving to be called a face. A massive body supported by thin, twisted legs. Two giant sickles where arms should have been.
And those eyes.
Those pitch-black eyes that still made his body shiver just thinking about them.
Ravin slid down until his back rested against the tower's gates. The strange temperature of the doors—cold and hot at the same time—reminded him that he was still alive.
He had stopped begging at some point. He didn't remember when, he just sat there, staring blankly at the ground, breathing shallowly.
Why don't you drop your blood on the slate.
Ravin let out a hollow laugh.
"Why?" he asked quietly. "What's the point?"
His voice was tired. Truly tired.
"It's pointless," he continued. "Just like everything else."
Another moment passed.
Just try it
"…What's the point of this meaningless action?" He sighed, still, he stood up. Picking up a jagged rock from the ground and stabbed his palm with it.
He didn't flinch, he just saw his blood drop onto the slate with slight hope in his eyes.