Atura continued walking forward at a slow pace.
His eyes remained fixed on the ground.
He blinked once.
In an instant, another vision unfolded before him.
He saw a magnificent royal palace.
Inside one of its grand chambers, a young Atura lay on his bed with a blanket covering his face.
His shoulders trembled.
"I just want to live as a poet..."
His voice quivered.
"Is that really too much to ask?"
He tightened his grip on the blanket.
"Perhaps..."
"I made a mistake by being born into this world."
The vision slowly blurred before fading away.
Atura's footsteps never stopped.
He raised his head for a moment.
Then he blinked again.
A second vision appeared.
This time, he found himself standing inside a vast royal hall.
At the far end of the chamber, his father sat upon the royal throne.
The atmosphere was silent.
Heavy.
As though the room itself was waiting for something to happen.
Atura looked directly at his father.
"Don't I have the right to choose my own path?"
His father remained seated on the throne.
"You don't understand what this world is truly like."
Atura lowered his gaze for a moment before replying.
"I am not a sword..."
"I am a pen."
"I have no interest in the traditions this world worships."
Tears slowly rolled down his face.
His voice trembled, yet his resolve remained unshaken.
"If I don't belong in the way people think..."
"If no one can truly understand me..."
"Then perhaps..."
"It simply means that I was never meant to belong to this world."
Silence filled the royal hall.
Atura could no longer hold back his tears.
His father looked at him with an unyielding expression.
"This world has no need for the weak."
He paused briefly.
"And besides..."
"It's always easier to speak than to prove your words."
That vision began to blur as well.
The royal hall slowly faded into darkness.
Reality returned.
Atura saw the figure charging toward him at incredible speed.
It was Pasito.
Pasito leaped high into the air.
One of his fists was pulled back, ready to strike.
Behind him, the Monkey Spirit mirrored his movement, drawing back its own massive fist.
As Pasito closed the distance, his voice echoed through Atura's mind.
"You'll never amount to anything."
"Your father isn't even a king anymore."
Those words struck Atura like an old wound.
Suddenly—
Another memory flashed before his eyes.
A boy named Vaden stood before him with a mocking smile.
"So..."
"You don't even have a carriage to travel with?"
Vaden burst into laughter.
The laughter echoed relentlessly inside Atura's mind, refusing to fade.
Mara and Pasito stood silently, smiling.
Then...
They too began to fade.
The world around Atura blurred once again.
"Am I... weak?" he whispered.
Inside his mind, his voice exploded.
"Why?!"
Once again, Pasito's voice echoed through his memories.
"You're not the friend I imagined."
"You're just like a pen."
"And once a pen runs out of ink..."
"It becomes worthless."
Atura came to an abrupt stop.
He slowly lifted his head.
A calm smile appeared on his face.
"As long as my pen..."
"As long as my thoughts remain alive..."
"I will continue to write countless poems."
The moment those words left his lips—
A bolt of lightning erupted from his back.
His aura surged.
His speed increased with every step.
Gradually, pieces of "flesh fell away from his body, as though they were nothing more than dry earth breaking apart.
In the blink of an eye—
Atura appeared directly between the three of them.
Silence consumed the battlefield.
Yarika's feet touched the ground.
The moment he landed, he froze.
His eyes widened in shock.
Atura was about to bear the impact.
As Atura came to an abrupt stop, Pasito's punch struck him from behind by accident.
The force pushed Atura forward.
He stumbled directly into the path of Yarika's sword.
For a brief moment...
Time itself seemed to stop.
Yarika instinctively stepped backward, unable to believe what had just happened.
A faint smile remained on Atura's face.
A stream of blood slowly appeared at the corner of his lips, and another tear of blood traced down from one of his eyes.
The entire battlefield fell silent.
Pasito stood motionless behind Atura.
His hands trembled.
The confidence on his face had vanished.
In its place...
There was only guilt.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Only silence remained.
Neither Mara nor Vasuki had seen Atura's face until now.
Even so...
The shock left them completely speechless.
Pasito's voice trembled.
"A... Atura..."
Mara and Vasuki slowly lowered their heads, as though they had committed an unforgivable mistake.
Pasito's hand was still resting against Atura's back.
He slowly pulled it away.
At that very moment, a deep crack appeared across the Monkey Spirit's chest.
For a brief instant, it seemed to tighten from within.
Then...
The spirit disappeared.
The spirits of Mara and Vasuki had vanished as well.
Atura slowly moved his broken jaw.
Despite the pain in his voice, a faint smile remained on his face.
"Do you know..."
"...how Atura keeps his friendships?"
Pasito, Mara, and Vasuki hurried toward Atura.
"Why...?"
"Why did you step in front of us?"
Atura gave a faint smile.
"You did me a favor..."
"By ending my suffering."
"Even after Ajina threw me into the abyss..."
"I was only half alive."
The moment Ajina's name was spoken...
The expressions on everyone's faces changed.
Silence filled the battlefield once again.
Pasito lowered his head.
His voice shook.
"I... I'm sorry."
Atura gently smiled.
"I wrote a poem."
"Would you like to hear it?"
No one answered.
Atura closed his eyes for a brief moment before reciting,
"A life of only two moments became a dream..."
"I asked a single question..."
"Today, it finally became my answer."
Everyone standing there felt their eyes fill with tears.
Yarika looked at Atura and spoke quietly.
"You're the kind of friend..."
"...that only one person in thousands is fortunate enough to find."
He lowered his head.
"As for me..."
"I was betrayed by my own friend."
"His name..."
"...is Ajina."
The moment those words were spoken, everyone froze.
Everyone...
Except Atura.
Atura slowly turned toward Mara.
"Mara..."
"Will you bring me justice?"
Mara's expression was filled with sorrow.
He clenched his fists.
"I will..."
"I promise I'll bring you justice."
A faint smile appeared on Atura's face.
Then...
Without another word...
His strength gave way, and he collapsed.
The others rushed to his side.
With their heads lowered and tears falling silently, they gathered around him.
Not a single voice broke the silence.
Only grief remained.