Huff... huff... huff.
My breath came shallow and sharp, and every inhale burned in my lungs. I hadn't expected this. Just setting everything up and carrying out this experiment had drained far more from me than I had anticipated.
I leaned forward and gripped my knees for balance before looking down into the hole again.
They were still down there.
Dozens of Vowalkers were buried in the water like corpses refusing to rot. Some possessed only ears. Others had nothing but a pair of sunken eyes. One had nothing but a mouth. Another had no face at all.
They weren't defective.
They had been constructed that way. Someone had deliberately designed them like this.
Each one was a sacrifice.
Each sacrifice represented the loss of a single sense.
I took another breath and tried to steady myself, but my balance shifted and I nearly fell. The organs I was holding slid slightly in my grip, and blood spilled down my arms in slow, sticky trails before dripping onto the soil below.
It was in that moment that I knew with certainty.
This isn't my body.
The first sign had been subtle and almost easy to dismiss.
I had felt irritated over a minor delay and a simple disruption. Normally I remain calm even when things fail. I study what happened, adjust my approach, and then calculate the next step.
But that time something had boiled up inside me.
It wasn't simple frustration.
It was raw and unfiltered irritation.
And that reaction wasn't like me.
Could the Nightmare have affected my mental state and twisted my thoughts?
That possibility existed, but it still wasn't enough to explain everything that had happened.
The second sign appeared when I tried recalling the first system message, the one that welcomed me into this nightmare.
The moment I reached for it, pain surged through my head. It was sharp, raw, and completely unnatural. My skull felt as though it were splitting apart. Despite that, none of my muscles spasmed and none of my nerves reacted in the way they normally should.
Even stranger, my arms moved on their own. They rose and clutched my temples without any command from me.
It was a reflex.
But it wasn't my reflex.
That was the second clue, and it was far clearer than the first.
The third sign was the delay in the muscles. There was a noticeable lag between intention and execution. I would think about moving first, and only after a short moment would the body respond.
By that point I had gathered enough data.
This wasn't simply a change of clothing.
This body wasn't mine at all.
***
I set the realization aside and forced myself to return to the task.
My theory continued to prove consistent. Vowalkers become denser and slower the more water they absorb. The change happens instantly rather than gradually. Moisture flows through the ground and binds with their structure the moment they are triggered.
But a new inconsistency had appeared.
If the hearing based Vowalkers were capable of detecting something as soft as a falling pebble, then why had they not reacted when I walked nearby earlier after the rain?
The logic didn't hold.
So I decided to investigate further.
After locating my next route, I retreated and returned to the large hole. It resembled a massive human made well, large enough to supply water to an entire city.
From there I moved deeper into the landscape. The ground was uneven and carved into irregular patterns. No two steps were the same, which meant every movement had to be measured, judged carefully, and executed with caution.
Eventually I found the driest patch of earth that I could locate without crossing the river.
Perfect.
My first encounter had shown the Vowalker launching with a reach of about four meters. Using that information, I stepped carefully onto what I suspected was its territory and then immediately retreated three meters.
The result appeared instantly.
The Vowalker burst from the ground. Its body looked skeletal and fractured, as if it were barely holding together. The skin covering it was dry and cracked like scorched clay.
It was definitely a hearing based one.
But it still hadn't reacted to my steps earlier.
Before I could move on to the next phase of my plan, it moved.
The speed was inhuman.
Even if I still had my original body, dodging that charge might not have been possible.
There was only one option left.
Brace.
I raised the skull I had taken from another Vowalker. It was thick and heavy, which meant it likely belonged to one of the more durable variants.
The charging Vowalker slammed into it with its full momentum.
The impact destroyed both.
The skull burst apart from the force of the collision. At the same time, the attacking Vowalker shattered as well. Its body was too brittle to survive the momentum of its own attack, and it crumbled in the middle of the charge.
Fragments scattered across the dirt.
I stood there breathing heavily while still holding the shattered remains of the skull.
I had survived.
But only by the smallest margin.
Everything was still in the palm of my hand, yet the only reason I had come this close to death was my own curiosity and my desire to confirm the future safety of my plans. My obsession with verifying every theory and thinking several steps ahead had nearly cost me my life.
As I turned and began running, a strange feeling settled into my chest.
It was wariness.
But it wasn't the calculated kind and it wasn't the cold instinct of survival.
Everything had unfolded according to my will, so there should have been no reason to feel wary at all.
I realized instantly that the feeling did not belong to me.
It belonged to this body.
I am not wary of death. I have faced it before. My entire life has been a prolonged confrontation with risk and loss, and I have spent years living in situations balanced on the edge of death.
Yet now my pulse raced and my hands trembled.
That terrified reaction did not come from the mind.
It came from the flesh itself.
That was when the realization finally formed.
Thought and body are not separate.
They never were.
The body influences the mind.
I had never accepted that idea before.
Until now.
***
Everything had gone according to plan, which meant I could now cross the river without difficulty.
I stopped once more on top of the hill and glanced down at the remains below.
Now the pattern was clear.
The hearing types had not ignored me because they failed to detect me.
They simply could not awaken unless their territory had been disturbed.
It had nothing to do with sound.
It was about proximity and territory.
With that realization, the theory I had feared the most finally began to make sense.
It was the one possibility I had tried not to believe.
I let out a slow breath.
Blood from the organs in my hands dripped onto the earth again. My feet were bare now, and the skin had been cut open by the rough ground. Every step throbbed with pain and every breath stung in my chest.
Thirst scraped against the back of my throat. Fortunately there was a corpse nearby. If I boiled it properly, the remaining fluids inside would be safe enough to drink.
I followed the old pathway uphill. The wind had died completely, which meant my footsteps echoed clearly through the silent landscape.
That was when it happened.
For the past several minutes one message had been repeating inside my mind.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
The message repeated again.
And again.
And again.
There were dozens of them.
But just now another message appeared and cut through the repetition.
[You have received a memory.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
Then the original message returned and continued repeating.
Yet that single phrase remained in my mind.
A memory.
What did that mean?
Was it something connected to the Vowalkers I had slain? Perhaps it was a record left behind by them. Maybe it even contained a glimpse of their perspective.
It could be similar to the yellow grass. Something that could not be accessed directly but had to be recalled instead.
I focused and tried to remember the first message I had received in this place.
[Aspirant. Welcome to the Nightmare ?????. Prepare for your First Trial...]
The moment the memory surfaced, pain tore violently through my skull.
I dropped to my knees.
While gripping my head tightly, I stared down at the ground.
This was different from before.
It was not just pain.
Something else was mixed within it.
For the first time since arriving here, I had nothing to rely on. There was no theory that explained what was happening, no path forward that I could follow, and no logic that I could grasp and use as support.
***
Eventually, I rose.
I approached the hill's edge, still holding the three organs.
I dropped two of them. Held one in my hand.
Each weighed about 0.3 kilograms. Each shaped... unmistakably.
Their size and mass only added more weight to my theory. The darkest one.
I didn't stop.
I backed up, picked up speed, and flung the organ forward with all the strength I could muster.
Then grabbed the other two, turned, and threw them to either side-forming a spread, like markers.
There were no puddles past this hill for me to use.
This was my last method.
As the blood arced through the air, I turned and ran.
Back towards the hole.
As I ran a trail of blood was left behind.... Coming out of my feet.
The test run was successful, and I now had cover.
***
I dove.
The moment I hit the water, the stillness shattered.
What had once been a quiet pool-a trap disguised as calm-erupted into chaos.
But this time, I wasn't alone.
They were coming.
And not just a few.
A legion.
Vowalkers by the dozens-no, hundreds-plunged in after me. Their bodies cleaved the surface with thunderous splashes. Some dropped straight like dead weight. Others twisted mid-air with terrifying agility.
They weren't like the brittle ones from before.
These were fresh.
Healthy. Hydrated. Alive in every horrible sense of the word.
The air above was choked with sound.
The water below bloomed red, thick with the fluids still leaking from the dissected cores I'd torn out earlier. My blood joined the stain, drawn from my feet-raw from impact, split open from friction.
It didn't matter.
I kicked downward, fast, but not frantic.
No wasted movement.
I angled my descent, brushing past the first layer of bloated corpses drifting in slow suspension from the previous fight. Their rigid limbs barely moved now, packed tight against each other like the discarded statues of a forgotten battlefield.
And beneath them-a hollow.
Just barely a pocket of space in the dark mine.
I twisted my body to fit, ignoring the jagged bone scraping my shoulders, ignoring the rotting flesh brushing against my throat.
There was no light here.
Only pressure.
I wedged myself into place, the weight of the water above me growing heavier with each second. Mud cradled my back. Dead skin grazed my scalp. My arms locked in front of my chest to conserve space.
I held still.
I didn't blink.
I didn't breathe.
And then they fell.
CRACK. THOOM. SPLASH.
One hit the corpses above me like a meteor.
Then another.
Then ten more.
The entire sky collapsed.
Vowalkers crashed into their fallen kin with blind fury. Their instincts had turned to compulsion-no strategy, no coordination. Just raw, rabid pursuit.
Some thrashed. Some clawed. Some bled black as their overstrained muscles ruptured under their own strength.
But they all had one thing in common.
They were drinking.
Drinking the water like dying addicts.
Their bodies soaked it in through every pore, like the earth itself.
And it was killing them.
Muscle bulged. Skin thickened. Limbs swelled unnaturally, stretching taut against their own armor. Movement slowed. Reaction time dulled.
It was the same fate as before-but accelerated.
The deeper they dove, the more water they absorbed.
The more water they absorbed, the heavier they became.
And the heavier they became...
The faster they drowned.
Above me, one Vowalker collided head-first with another mid-descent.
The impact split its skull open-bone cracking like a dropped vase. The sound was dull underwater, but the vibration thrummed through my body.
Another lost control of its limb, swung wide, and tore the arm clean off a neighbor. Both plummeted.
A third tried to claw through the corpses sheltering me. Its claw dug deep... but only managed to wedge itself between two bloated bodies. Then it stiffened. Froze. And began to sink-trapped by its own mass.
I watched them die one by one.
No. Not die.
Choke on their own evolution.
Their biology betrayed them. Their strength betrayed them.
Even their vow betrayed them.
Because a vow without discipline is suicide.
And I?
I had nothing.
Minutes passed like hours.... But they were minutes none the less.
Still I didn't move.
My lungs screamed. Every muscle ached. The stillness felt like drowning in iron.
But I had trained for this.
I had endured the White Room-where breath control was learned under suffocation, where survival meant pushing past instinct into perfect silence.
So I waited.
Until the final splash faded.
Until the last ripple died.
Until the water above me held only stillness again.
Then I moved.
Slowly.
I emerged from the hollow like a shadow parting from the dead.
Above me-a forest of corpses....
some sank and some did not... Why else do you think I did all that effort to take organs out of each Vowalker last time.
Vowalkers hung mid-water like petrified beasts. Their bodies contorted by bloated muscle and water-logged tissue. Their jaws slack. Their limbs outstretched.
Silent. Helpless.
Just like me in this world.
And I drifted through them like a surgeon.
***
By the time I surfaced, I was carrying four Vowalker organs.
Heavy in the hand. Warm with residual life. Still pulsing faintly when I first touched them, but now-just silence.
My body rose out of the water slowly. Each movement met resistance. My limbs dragged behind me like I was still submerged. Muscles numb from exertion. Skin pale from the cold weight of stillness.
My hair hung low across my face, plastered against my forehead and eyes. I didn't move it aside. Vision wasn't priority. Breathing was.
I didn't breathe with urgency, though. Only precision. Each inhale-measured. Each exhale-anchored.
Then I stood.
And I looked.
Not at the river. Not at the sky.
Behind me.
The world had changed. Because of me.
No-because I changed it.
What had once been cracked terrain and faded yellow grass was now something else entirely.
Every direction bore the signs of upheaval. Craters. Scars. Ash-gray soil churned into uneven ridges.
Some deep enough to bury a person standing upright. Others shallow but wide, overlapping like ripples of old impact.
It didn't look natural. It looked struck-violated by force.
Like a meteor field. A sky that fell one piece at a time.
I saw no grass now. No patches of yellow, no deceptive signs of safety. Nothing but ruin. The surface had lost all memory of what it once was. The creatures I'd drawn out-killed, suffocated, shattered-they hadn't just died.
They'd been used. Turned into tools of collapse.
Their exit tore holes in the world.
Their death left it empty.
And I had done it. Not by accident. Not through recklessness.
Through precision.
I didn't intend to destroy. But I had destroyed.
Because the only way forward was through collapse.
That realization didn't unsettle me. It didn't comfort me either.
It simply was the right way.
The world behind the river was different now.
Not dangerous. Not dormant. Not waiting.
Just broken.
And only one direction remained untouched-the other side of the river. Still quiet. Still pale. Still watching.
But for how long?
Each step I had passed until now... Was gone.
Wherever I had stepped through decimated.
Every landscape i looked burned under my gaze.
Wherever I go, destruction followed...
And now, the world bore their weight.
I kept walking.
***
My steps were uneven now.
Not from hesitation, but because the ground itself had forgotten what it meant to be solid.
No straight paths remained. Only fractured ridges and loose dirt. As if a rain of broken stone had fallen from the sky, shattering everything it touched.
Not a single stretch of clean earth lay beneath me.
And every 1 group d out of 3 had remainings of the Vowalker, most probably they collided.
Just a thousand sharp angles. Sharp enough to cut. Deep enough to trap.
I navigated them without slowing.
Blood slid down my ankle, mixing with dust. Each step burned, not because of pain, but because of friction. My soles were none existent. My shoes had torn open long ago.
My legs dragged like rusted hinges, the joints resisting every movement. The water had pulled strength from them, leaving me with only coordination and habit.
Still, I kept moving.
Not because I believed in what lay ahead.
But because I had already erased what lay behind.
When I looked back, I didn't see enemies.
I didn't see traps or danger.
I saw silence.
A silence earned through violence.
The world behind the river was finished now. It no longer shifted, no longer responded, no longer threatened. It just existed. As a scar.
Somewhere beneath that scorched dirt were the remains of over a thousand Vowalkers. Not buried with ceremony. Not left with purpose. Just dead. Reduced to fragments and hollow cores. Suffocated in water, shattered by each other, activated by the same tactics that outpaced them.
None had survived.
Because I had survived.
That was the weight of this place-not the monsters, not the silence, not the strange logic of the Spell.
The weight was that I changed it.
By the time the river came into view again, my breathing had steadied, but my body hadn't recovered.
My arms had lost their strength. My fingers no longer felt the organs they carried. My eyes stung from the salt left behind in the drying sweat.
But I didn't blink it away.
I let it sting.
I descended into the shallow slope that cradled the river. Loose dirt gave way beneath me, crumbling with each step. I slid more than I walked, catching myself with numb legs and instinct alone.
The river was still the same.
Wide. Still. Flat like glass. Ten meters across.
The other side waited, untouched.
The only part of this world I hadn't changed.
Yet.
***
I crouched near the edge-not to rest, but to search. My hand sifted through the soft earth beside the river, brushing past roots, pebbles, and rotting strands of brittle grass.
Then I found it.
Grass that was still damp.
Stones that hadn't shifted.
Exactly what I was looking for.
A fire would be possible here. Small. Controlled.
But that would come after.
First, I sat down.
And for the first ti
me since the nightmare began, I let my body rest.
The air here was different-heavier, but cleaner. A layer of moisture clung to the skin, evaporating slowly. The silence here was not hostile. Just indifferent.
And I accepted that.
Because for once, the world didn't need my attention.
It just let me breathe.
Even if only for now.
***
Things would've been a walk in the park with my actual body.
I wouldn't be this exhausted. Wouldn't be gasping with every other step. My legs wouldn't feel like they were made of soaked cloth, dragging behind me like dead weight.
My breathing was shallow now, shoulders trembling-not out of fear, but fatigue that shouldn't even exist.
This wasn't just physical.
I clenched my fist, then slammed it into my own ribs.
A sharp jolt ran through my side. Good. That pain was real.
It woke me up.
This nightmare wasn't just attacking my body-it was digging into my mind, warping how I thought, how I felt. Trying to slow me down, dull my edge, turn every action into doubt.
It wasn't trying to kill me.
It was trying to build something else.
Remorse.
Remorse for remorse eater to eat.
I had to be on guard, mentally too.
***
I crouched by the river's edge and scooped up a handful of dirt.
The water barely moved. Still, stagnant. No ripples. No sound.
That meant bacteria-maybe parasites. Not safe to drink directly. But I needed it.
I could survive without food for months-longer if I had to. But water was different. I could endure the lack, but not at full efficiency. And right now, I needed clarity. Precision. Endurance.
So I wet the dirt carefully, letting the moisture soak in as I kneaded it with my fingers. My hands moved with muscle memory, but my mind was somewhere else.
That sound.
It hadn't stopped since I left the crater behind.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
Again. And again. A relentless chorus.
[You have received a memory.]
It slipped in like a whisper between the screams. Then-
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
I couldn't shut it off. No interface, no panel. No off switch.
Just the voice. Endless. Repeating.
I focused harder on the shape I was forming. The mud thickened in my palm, taking form-a crude vessel, no bigger than a spoon, no wider than my thumb. A few centimeters deep. Rough edges. No lip. It didn't matter.
It only had one job.
Once satisfied with the shape, I used the driest grass I gathered and set it in a loose bundle. Then, I pressed two pebbles together-sharp, angular-and began striking.
Sparks came slow at first. Then a flicker. Then flame.
The fire caught.
I held the vessel just above the flame, rotating it slowly, carefully. Too much heat would crack it. Too little, and it wouldn't hold shape.
Five minutes passed. Maybe seven.
Finally, the dirt hardened. Primitive, fragile-but solid enough.
I filled it with a shallow scoop of river water, held it back over the flame, and waited for the surface to ripple. Boil. Purify.
Steam rose in thin tendrils.
I drank.
The warmth spread through my chest like something sacred. My muscles still ached. My body still bled. But the dizziness faded-just slightly.
I exhaled.
The system hadn't gone silent.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Remorse Eater's Vowalker.]
But for a moment, it didn't matter.
I had water.
And I was still alive.
.....
....
...
..
.
I clenched my fist and punched myself. In the ribs again.
Pain surged through my entire body waking me awake.
It was still trying to influnce my thoughts.
No wonder this is called a nightmare.
And soon night devoured everything, but i refused to sleep fighting to have control of this body.
Tommorow I cross the river.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Gimme a like, it is the only way for me to know how many people actually like it.
MAN WHENEVER I TRY TO WRITE MORE SUCH A COOL CLIFFHANGER COMES.
THIS IS NOTHING, I HAVE A LOT OF THINGS PLANNED.
This might just as well go on until ch 10.
How was it?
Any criticism?