If he hadn’t realized it by now, he might as well have started questioning his own intelligence.
This wasn’t so random conclusion pulled from intuition—it was the result of deliberate, rigorous thinking. At first, Damien had assud it was so kind of strength-oriented dinsion, but that notion had quickly crumbled under scrutiny. The deeper he analyzed, the more the pieces failed to align with that theory.
Just as he was contemplating these things in silence, Yu finished preparing to leave. With practiced ease, he heaved a massive slab of stone and rolled it into place, sealing off the cave entrance. The grinding of rock against rock echoed for a brief mont before giving way to a still quiet. His task done, Yu disappeared into the dense wilderness, leaving behind a flicker of warmth in the otherwise cold cave.
Little i didn’t flinch. She was already used to this routine.
In a matter of monts, the silence was filled with the sound of soft giggles and childlike mumbles. Sitting cross-legged on a patch of woven hide, she beca wholly imrsed in her imaginary world—cradling her threadbare doll like a living child, whispering little words into its frayed ears. Her delicate fingers stroked the doll’s tangled yarn hair, as if grooming it for a day at school.
Like every child her age, she had assigned the doll a personality, a life, and a set of responsibilities—naly, howork.
Floating just a few feet away, Damien—untethered from the physical world like a drifting wisp—watched her with mild amusent. One eyebrow rose, ever so slightly.
"Little doll, why are you so stupid?" i huffed, wagging a tiny finger at the expressionless toy. "You don’t pronounce the magical word ’ark’ like this. You need to twist your tongue just a little—like this!" She exaggerated the pronunciation, her lips puffing in concentration. "Now show your howork that I gave you yesterday."
Her serious tone would’ve been comical if not for the eerie stillness that followed.
Suddenly, the cave seed to exhale a long, silent breath.
Without warning, the playful air turned stagnant. The warmth that had filled the space just a mont ago began to leech away. Color drained from the rocky walls—vibrant earth tones fading into dull greys, as if the cave had been dipped in ash. Even the little torchlight crystal embedded in the corner flickered, dimming as though it too had grown afraid.
A dense, suffocating pressure seeped into the atmosphere.
It didn’t crash down like a wave—it crept, sliding its tendrils into every nook and cranny of the cave, thickening the air, making it hard to breathe. Even the cracks between stones seed to tremble in anticipation of sothing unseen.
Damien narrowed his eyes. The lightness in his spiritual body wavered, his intangible form montarily weighed down by the sudden gravity of the situation.
"What... is this?" he murmured, mostly to himself. His gaze flicked to i, who had gone still, her innocent face frozen mid-scolding. The doll lay limp in her lap. A tremble passed through her small shoulders—not fear yet, but confusion.
And then—absolute silence.
No sound. No breath. Not even the faint heartbeat of the mountain. Only the slow, crawling dread that sothing had shifted... sothing was watching.
Damien floated there, staring into the unnatural gloom, his senses straining beyond the physical realm. What he felt wasn’t just power—it was a presence, ancient and cold, peering through the cracks of reality.
His eyes narrowed further.
Sothing—or soone—had entered this space.
And it wasn’t supposed to be here.
Before Damien could even react, the pressure in the cave multiplied tenfold. The spiritual space around him twisted unnaturally, and his smoky, ethereal form—usually light and fluid—began to tremble violently, like fragile glass quivering under a hamr’s blow.
A haunting murmur echoed in his mind, low and incomprehensible at first—then swelling into layered, overlapping whispers that clawed at the edges of sanity. It was as though a chorus of demons were chanting in unison, burrowing into his soul.
His head throbbed, the pain escalating with every heartbeat, threatening to split his consciousness apart. Crimson light bled into the world, slowly staining everything red. The earthy brown of the cave walls turned slick and dark as grotesque eyes—hundreds of them—began to erge from the stone like boils.
Each eye blinked unnaturally, lids rolling sideways, and with every blink, fresh fountains of thick, coagulated blood sprayed across the cave walls, ceiling, and floor. The scent of iron filled the air—overpowering and nauseating.
Damien, barely holding himself together, clenched his translucent fists and looked around with desperation. The oppressive force suffocating the air made it hard to think straight, but his instincts scread that staying here would an death—or sothing far worse.
As his gaze darted through the blood-soaked cave, his heart clenched with a sharp pang.
Little i.
In the month he had spent watching over her, she’d beco more than just a child he observed—she reminded him painfully of soone from his past. His little sister. The one he had failed to protect. The one he couldn’t save.
No matter what was happening now... he couldn’t fail again.
A surge of protectiveness shot through him as he searched for her amidst the chaos.
Then he saw her.
Far across the distorted chamber, Little i stood completely still, her small form illuminated by an eerie crimson glow. Her previously playful and innocent face had beco stiff, porcelain-like—emotionless and empty.
Her eyes, once bright and curious, were now glowing blood-red, glimring like twin rubies in the gloom. And they were locked directly onto his.
Damien’s breath caught.
Sothing was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Before he could process the growing horror, Little i’s lips parted slowly—too slowly—and a voice that did not match the child’s soft tone echoed through the cavern. It was her voice, but twisted. Echoing. Cold and accusatory.
"Brother... why didn’t you save ? Why did you leave Little i alone?"
Her head tilted slightly to the side, almost chanically.
"Did you want to get rid of ? Is that why you made live alone in the forest? You never loved , brother..."
Her words, though softly spoken, struck like hamrs against Damien’s soul. The cave seed to contract and tremble with every syllable, amplifying her pain into the very stone.
Damien stared at her, unable to look away. The illusion—or nightmare—blurred the lines between mory, guilt, and reality.
He didn’t know if this was truly i or sothing wearing her skin, but whatever it was... it knew him.
And it wanted to break him.
Just as her words reached that final, twisted note, little i was practically screeching—her voice jagged and sharp, like shards of glass grinding against each other in a pitiless storm.
Damien, who was already struggling to bear the crushing pressure blanketing the cave, almost collapsed when a surge of unbearable guilt struck him like a tidal wave. His ghostly figure trembled. The weight pressing down on his shoulders wasn’t just physical—it clawed at his very soul.
Before he even realized it, the corners of his eyes turned wet. His vision blurred for a heartbeat. Startled, Damien lifted his hand and gently wiped at his cheek.
A tear.
His hand froze.
He was crying.
A man who had slaughtered countless without remorse... a killer who once walked through carnage without batting an eye... was shedding tears.
For the first ti in years—he felt human.
anwhile, little i’s voice grew louder, more deranged. Her words no longer sounded like a child’s cries—they had beco guttural, inhuman growls, more beast than girl. Her roars echoed across the cave, a crescendo of agony and accusation that scraped at the walls and tore into Damien’s sanity.
The pressure multiplied yet again, crashing down on him with suffocating force. The world bled red—walls, ground, sky—all drenched in an unnatural crimson. The very air seed to coagulate into sothing thick and heavy. Damien’s head spun, and his form flickered violently.
He was losing control.
Without realizing it, the tears he shed had multiplied—beco a flood. A shimring sea now filled the cave, rising until it swallowed the walls and pooled beneath his feet, forming a reflection of sorrow.
It was then—
BOOM!
Damien’s smoky form shattered into countless wisps of light and vanished.
---
"...Where am I?"
When Damien next opened his eyes, he was no longer in the crimson-drenched nightmare. The oppressive pressure was gone.
He was back.
The familiar coolness of the inheritance space welcod him, but it brought no comfort. The surroundings glowed faintly with celestial runes hovering midair, pulsing slowly like a calm heartbeat.
Not far from him stood the guardian spirit, her expression unreadable.
For a brief mont, her eyes held sothing Damien could only interpret as... disappointnt. Quiet, restrained, but undeniably there. Then, just as quickly, her face brightened into its usual sunny, gentle smile.
But Damien had been through too much to miss that flicker.
Still... he couldn’t focus.
Because at that very mont, a searing pain tore through his skull like molten iron being poured into his brain.
His knees nearly buckled. Damien wanted nothing more than to scream, to clutch his head and collapse to the floor—but he didn’t. He clenched his jaw, gritted his teeth, and endured.
Pain like this...
It was almost comforting.
He was used to it.
But what he had just seen—what he had just felt?
That was sothing far more dangerous than pain.
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