"Owen... take good care of your mother and... sister... you must, take care..."
"Mom will lead them away, Owen, take your sister and go, quickly!"
"Brother, brother save me!"
The sister being dragged away, the slavers' whips, the endless torment in the Blood Beast Factory...
Scene after chaotic scene flashed through Owen's mind.
...
...
...
"Ah——!"
Owen gasped and woke up with a start.
It was a dream, but also a memory—he ultimately failed to protect anything.
Such regret was Owen's everyday, so when his consciousness returned, he quickly realized the anomaly.
His wrist was empty, those calloused indentations remained, but what had bound him was gone.
The air, though not fresh, lacked any rust smell, nor that rotting odor mingled with blood and excrement.
A tin of water was handed over by a hand as thin as a twig, with knobbly knuckles and dirt embedded under the nails.
