ARCH:Finally.....let see what kind of doo-
Arch had seen the door symbol on his compass and expected a grand, majestic entrance. But when the view finally cleared, the reality was a bitter joke: there was no door. No magnificent archway. No fucking door at all.
ARCH: Whats the meaning of this ?
The door he was expecting wasn't there. What was there was a behemoth boulder. The boulder was as large as a four-story apartment building, and it was jammed into the underground wall as if covering a massive hole. The conclusion was clear: this huge boulder was blocking the exit of this underground area.
ARCH: GURARARARARA DO YOU THINK THAT THIS BOULDER WOULD EVER STOP ME...FROM MOVING FORWARD.....DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE THROW IN AN UNKNOWN WORLD ? DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO BE PLACED HERE IN THIS DARKNESS? DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO LIVE LIKE SOME KIND OF DEADWEIGHT? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I'VE DREAMED FOR FREEDOM? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS TO LIVE ALONE AND DIE THE NEXT MORNING? ..AND NOW THAT IVE GOT SECOND CHANCE TO LIBE HOW I WANT TO BE...DO YOU THINK THIS COULD STOP MEEEE...HAAAAAHHH! ANSWER MEEEEEEE!"
Arch shouted those words—words he had been carrying all this time. Every single bit of frustration and realization took over his consciousness.
Then, KABOOM! An echoing sound reverberated throughout the entire underground. A massive and overwhelming pressure descended upon the entire area, and white, lightning-like energy appeared everywhere, destroying everything in its path. At the very center of this phenomenon was Arch.He was standing unconscious, his white hair flowing with the white lightning, and his unconscious eyes were staring at the behemoth boulder in front of him.
The snake-fox behind Arch reeled under the overwhelming force. It felt like true gravity, crushing the fox's joints and compelling it to its knees—not just the fox, but anything sentient that felt this pressure had to yield. Yet, amidst this physical strain, the fox recognized that Arch's pure, desperate willpower was woven into the force. It met the gaze of Arch's unconscious back, a slow nod replacing its struggle, and a soft, gentle smile appeared on its face.
Then, the fox's snake tail twitched, and a broken language, hissing and mimicking human words, emerged: "Ha-shhh-ssho-skuhh... ssshaaki-hhss.."
Time seemed to warp, not in the simple passage of seconds and years, but in the constant, grinding repetition of effort. Below ground, the natural celestial rhythm—the sun's rotation, the moon's shifting shape—was meaningless. The only true clock was his will.
Arch ceased looking for escape routes or excuses. He poured every waking moment into his training, devoting his entire being to growing strong enough to destroy the massive boulder. Every swing, every punch, was a down payment on his freedom. His focus became absolute. No more complaints, no more expectation of outside help; he understood he was his own only hope. "Punches, slices toward the stone! I will not stop as long as I draw breath!" his eyes declared.
Years passed, visible not by lines on his face, but by the physical and mental steeling of his self. The snake-fox, his silent witness, watched this journey from a desperate man to a honed weapon, recognizing that every breath was a declaration, and every new crack in the boulder was a testament to a perfection being forged..
Living in the dim underground was a gruesome experience—a solitary confinement that shattered his mind. Psychological stress constantly invaded him. The numbing toll of fear, anxiety, sensory deprivation, and total isolation weighed down his body. The complete lack of natural light fatally disrupted his circadian rhythm,
leading to chronic sleep disturbances and cripplingly impaired cognitive function. After extended periods, this psychological siege resulted in haunting hallucinations and a severe decline in his mental health.
And yet, he remained standing, a figure as resolute as the unmovable mountain he intended to destroy. Instead of despair, steel filled his eyes. His fists, once likened to a maiden's hand, were now grotesquely beautiful—a roadmap of scars crisscrossing pulsating veins, evidence of every blow struck against the
stone. His hair, once short, now flowed in a white cascade to his waist, marking the endless passage of time.
Just like that, eight grueling years had been spent inside the dim underground.
----- to be continued------
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PROLONGED ENDS.....
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"Yes, sirrr, the prolonged section is finished (imaginary tears)... And in this extended part of the story, we saw how Arch felt when he was reincarnated into this world. His memories are not clear; his past life memories are catching up to him, and the wishes he had made are also affecting his entire life. I wanted to portray and show this to you all! comment below if you also feel the same—the sense of isolation and the struggle he has faced along his way."
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