A sound.
Distant.
Faint.
Like an echo from somewhere far away.
Something without shape.
Without origin.
And yet—
It lingered.
Then—
Light.
Soft.
Too soft.
It didn't blind him.
It embraced him.
Like a memory.
Like something that was never meant to last.
Ryuji slowly opened his eyes.
His vision wavered.
Blurred at the edges.
As if reality itself hadn't fully decided to exist yet.
His breathing was uneven.
Shallow.
Unstable.
But he could see.
In front of him—
Wooden pillars.
Standing in rows.
Worn down.
Marked by countless strikes.
Each dent told a story.
Each crack held a memory.
The smell of sand reached him.
Dry.
Familiar.
A gentle breeze brushed against his skin.
Light.
Almost comforting.
"…huh…"
The sound that escaped him barely qualified as a word.
More like a fragment of awareness.
He looked down at his hands.
Whole.
Uninjured.
No blood.
No trembling.
His body felt—
Light.
Too light.
As if something essential had been stripped away.
"R…"
A voice.
Faint.
"Ryu…"
Closer.
"Ryuji!"
A jolt.
Sharp.
"Hey! Ryuji! Can you hear me?!"
His vision snapped into focus.
The world settled.
And he saw him.
Soren.
Standing right in front of him.
Arms crossed.
A mocking grin on his face.
A grin he knew all too well.
"You've been spacing out a lot lately."
Another voice joined in.
Relaxed.
"Not wrong."
A girl lay nearby, arms behind her head.
"He's been acting weird. I bet he's not even sleeping."
A third voice.
Calmer.
Detached.
"Maybe. He did get beaten by Soren last week."
A small laugh.
Light.
Not cruel.
But real.
"Guess it's still bothering him."
Ryuji said nothing.
Did nothing.
His eyes moved from one face to another.
Every expression.
Every detail.
Everything felt too real.
Too precise.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Steady.
A man approached.
Tall.
Older.
His gaze was gentle.
His presence—
Reassuring.
A rare kind of stability.
"Enough."
His voice settled the air instantly.
"Don't stand apart."
A faint smile.
"Training is about to begin."
Everything was normal.
Too normal.
Something inside Ryuji cracked.
His eyes trembled.
"…no…"
A whisper.
"…this…"
He looked around again.
And again.
As if searching for something.
Anything that didn't belong.
But there was nothing.
"…I know this…"
A memory.
Not broken.
Not distorted.
Pure.
Intact.
Before everything.
Before the betrayal.
Before the blood.
Before the world that crushed him.
His lips trembled.
A tear slowly rolled down his cheek.
"…my friends…"
His voice broke.
And with it—
Everything.
The world cracked.
Shattered.
Collapsed.
The sound returned.
Violent.
Heavy.
Overwhelming.
The light vanished.
Replaced by dust.
The smell of blood.
Pain.
Unavoidable.
Ryuji opened his eyes again.
This time—
For real.
His vision was blurred.
But steady.
Real.
He inhaled.
Barely.
Each breath was a struggle.
He looked around.
The room—
Destroyed.
Walls cracked.
Floor shattered.
Debris everywhere.
Then—
He turned his head slightly.
And understood.
His arm.
Was gone.
Torn off.
Clean.
As if it had been erased.
Blood still poured out.
Hot.
Too hot.
Relentless.
"…ah…"
A hollow breath.
No emotion.
No reaction.
Just… recognition.
He tried to move.
His legs—
Nothing.
No response.
No sensation.
As if they didn't exist anymore.
His body gave in slightly.
He dropped to his knees.
Broken.
Incomplete.
In front of him—
Marcellus.
Standing still.
Calm.
His sword already sheathed.
As if the fight was over.
His gaze fixed on him.
Observing.
Cold.
But attentive.
Like someone analyzing.
Not quite an enemy.
Not yet.
Just… watching.
Silence pressed down on the space.
Then—
A sound.
Faint.
A cough.
Ryuji.
Still alive.
Marcellus narrowed his eyes.
The dust slowly settled.
Very slowly.
As if time itself hesitated.
And what he saw—
Stopped him.
Ryuji.
Standing.
Or rather—
Still standing.
His body in ruins.
Left arm gone.
Blood everywhere.
His clothes soaked.
His lips dry.
Cracked.
But—
He remained.
Still.
And his right eye—
Locked onto him.
Burning.
Alive.
"…what is he, immortal or something…"
A murmur.
Almost impressed.
Then—
A smile.
Slow.
Genuine.
Marcellus tilted his head slightly.
"…interesting…"
Years.
In this position.
Countless fights.
Countless deaths.
He had seen them all.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Broken men.
Rebels.
Warriors.
Stronger.
Faster.
More talented.
All of them—
Fell.
Every single one.
But this—
This was different.
Across from him—
Ryuji opened his mouth.
With difficulty.
Every word cost him.
"…it's funny…"
A cough.
Blood again.
"…to think…"
His breath faltered.
"…that you might be…"
He lifted his head slightly.
His eyes shaking—
But not from fear.
"…the most honest person I've met here…"
Silence.
Marcellus didn't respond.
"…thanks."
A simple word.
Strangely sincere.
Then—
"…but…"
His voice cracked.
"…I've been losing…"
His fingers trembled.
Weakly.
"…my whole life…"
His teeth clenched.
"…and this time…"
Something changed.
His gaze.
It burned.
Truly.
"…that's not happening."
Marcellus watched.
Then—
His eyes widened.
Just for a moment.
Short.
But real.
The core.
In Ryuji's hand.
Red.
Unstable.
Pulsing.
Like a foreign heart.
"…wait—"
His body moved instantly.
No hesitation.
"SHIT."
He lunged forward.
Fast.
Brutal.
Instinctive.
Across from him—
Ryuji smiled.
Tired.
Almost peaceful.
Like someone who had already crossed the line.
"…too late…"
His hand trembled.
But didn't let go.
Not this time.
Not anymore.
Then—
Without hesitation—
He swallowed it.
Time froze.
For a moment.
Silent.
Then—
Something changed.
Radically.
His body tensed.
Muscles convulsed violently.
His breath stopped.
His eyes widened.
Heat.
No—
Burning.
It spread.
Through his veins.
Through his bones.
Through what remained of him.
A scream rose—
But never escaped.
Trapped.
Broken.
His body trembled.
Then shook.
Then—
Reached its limit.
Something refused to die.
And that something—
Was him