"I'm so tired... Can you imagine that, tin? Of course not, metal can't get tired. Lucky you..."
His voice, like his body, was very weak. It was hoarse and barely louder than the rustling of swaying leaves.
"How long has it been since I fought that creature... еight hours? Maybe ten... I haven't had anything to eat. Or drink… I'm hurt, Paymax. I want to sleep, and I'm very, very tired... But that creature isn't. It's not even tired. It can't get tired, just like you..."
"Wow, Mr. Nobody! It must be really hard for you right now."
"Yes... You're absolutely right about that."
"If you feel like you can't handle it alone, you can always ask me for help!"
"No, Paymax, I can't... Because you're not there."
"No?! So you're talking to yourself right now? That sounds really pathetic!"
"Haa... Go to hell."
He mimicked Paymax's voice, raising the inactive bracelet.
The wound on his back not only caused pain at the moment, but also made it difficult to stop the bleeding.
He burned with fever, drifting in and out of delirium.
Sudden hallucinations and rolling waves of pain kept him from sleeping.
Ryskar's lunge completely tore his backpack. Food gone. Pistol gone.
In addition, the claw had pierced a hole in his water flask. Most of the water had simply leaked out.
Two sips of liquid at the bottom of the torn backpack were all he could get. In such conditions, washing the wound was out of the question.
"Looks like it's the end, Paymax... I hate to say it, but it seems you're not destined to bring prosperity to the whole world."
"No, Mr. Nobody! Don't give up! You have to hold on!"
"Have to?"
His own words stumped him.
"But Paymax, why should I do that? Do I have to... Answer me, Paymax, why do I have to hold on?"
"..."
His raised hand, like himself, remained silent.
Unable to find an answer within himself, he closed his eyes and leaned carefully against the white tree trunk, which was already smeared with his blood. Red leaves tickled his face, and surely he could hear the familiar whispers and calls...
"You know, Paymax, she said... My mom told me... Don't be afraid..."
"Wow! What else did she say to you?"
He coughed weakly, then wiped the blood from his mouth wearily.
"Then... She asked me to play her favorite song. Can you imagine, she had a cassette player? I used to laughed at that... But at that moment, I wasn't laughing. I think I was crying then, Paymax."
"Oh... What song was it, Mr. Nobody?"
He rubbed his eyes wearily and tried to connect his thoughts and sounds into words.
"I think it went..."
He cleared his throat and began to speak quietly. His voice was terribly painful, but his pale face seemed to brighten a little for the first time.
"See me die on Bleecker Street."
"I'm bored with being god."
"See me sneering in my car."
"I'm driving to my star…"
For just a moment... his face was graced with a subtle, barely noticeable smile, completely unimaginable in such a situation.
"I'm not afraid, Mom..." he whispered barely audibly, then continued humming.
"I'm listening to the music with no fear."
"And if you are sincere... You can hear it too."
His humming broke off along with the expression on his face, which appeared only for a moment. He couldn't hear the music anymore.
"And how did it go on? What happened next?" croaked the imaginary Paymax.
"Next..." His eyes widened. He was looking ahead, but at the same time, he wasn't looking there. He was looking through everything, at something only he could see. "Then she told me... She said it, and I... I did…"
A sudden flood of memories was replaced by a paralyzing sound. An explosion rang out in his head, erasing everything that could be erased.
He didn't go on with the song. Nor with his mother's last words.
"So answer me, Paymax. Why do I have to hold on? Why do I have to fight and continue suf…"
"Because villains have to suffer. They have to be punished."
"...That's right. Because that's exactly what I deserve."
...
And although the branches often intertwined, climbing in this position was pure hell.
However, when the feverish haze and shivering eased a little, his mind was tormented by one mystery. It concerned the whispering trees and this forest as a whole.
During the chase, he decided that black spots pointed to a specific tree that was slightly different from the others in thickness. However, after making a desperate attempt to get to that very tree, he realized he was wrong.
The spots on the periphery of his consciousness continued to point the way forward, even after the thick tree, so there was something else ahead.
'But it seems like my next chase will end in the first five seconds.'
Someone is whispering:
"It will tear you to pieces."
Someone is calling:
"Run..."
"I know, I know..." he replied wearily.
He still had his binoculars with him, and every half hour he frantically checked Ryskar's position. However, he had not yet spotted it; the predator had simply vanished.
Of course, he did not believe it. The recurring whispers made it instinctively clear that Ryskar was close. Very close.
"..." He touched the red foliage and ran his hand over the dark spot on the trunk.
Of course, the reaction to his touch wasn't completely unexpected. Dark red smudges remained on his palm from the leaves, and when he touched the spots, his fingertips felt strange vibrations.
"What if... the trees held the souls of the devoured?"
That was the first and most obsessive idea that came to his mind.
This version seemed close to reality to him because he had seen proof of the existence of souls with his own eyes.
After all, he had seen his own soul—black, layered like an endless void.
He saw his dark soul, just as he saw that unforgettable being opposite him…
"Haah..." He sighed hoarsely and heavily.
The thought of thousands of souls who had never found peace, but were instead locked away in the bloody forest, evoked something heavy and gloomy within him.
"I wish I could promise to kill that creature... but I'm afraid I can't."
The trees did not respond to his words, and he did not intend to explain anything to them.
There was no need for any preliminaries or preparations. Changing location or trying to trick the predator also seemed pointless, and besides, he clearly didn't have the strength for such a thing.
He didn't even need intuition for this — the predator would find him anywhere. All that remained was to go down, and the Red Lamb Ryskar would certainly prove it.
He checked the improvised bandage on his back one last time, consisting of torn pieces of fabric held together, and wondered how it had managed not to fall apart.
Then he patted the tree trunk lightly with his hand and spoke to it one last time.
"I will not be afraid... That is what I can promise."
He took the dagger in his teeth and wrapped his hands around the metal cable. His palms were covered in calluses, bruises, and some kind of dark bloodstains, but he had nothing left to use as bandages.
He began his descent.
...
The piercing pain in his back made his jaw clench, and his legs tremble. Several times, he thought the wound had reopened, but it seemed that everything was fine for now.
When his feet cautiously touched the surface, no one suddenly attacked him. No one pounced, knocked him down, tore him apart, or devoured him.
And for a couple of seconds, it seemed to him the predator had really missed him...
But it was there. Just as it had promised.
"..." Heavy paws causing the ground behind it to tremble — that was clear proof.
Ryskar was no longer hiding. As in their first encounter, it slowly approached its prey, but...
The mechanical beast kept licking the claw on its paw.
It was the very claw with which it had wounded its victim.
"..." The lamb's face did not change to anger at the provocation.
He watched Ryskar approach without any expression.
Despite the pain, the hands holding the cable and the dagger did not tremble.
As if fear really no longer existed.
"...Try to take what you want, kitten," he muttered hoarsely.
The predator needed no further encouragement. Ryskar let out a piercing growl and rushed after his prey.