The wind drifted slowly across the field, brushing against endless grass that swayed like a green ocean without a shore.
Above me, the sky stretched wide.
Too blue.
Too clean.
As if it had never once been touched by blood.
Everything felt… wrong.
I stopped walking.
My chest rose and fell unevenly as my breath caught in my throat.
"This… isn't normal…"
My eyes moved slowly across the landscape.
That stone.
The tree leaning slightly to the left.
The long crack in the ground ahead.
I knew them.
I had seen them before.
Again.
And again.
Too many times.
It felt as though the world itself had been forced to rewind, replaying the same moment endlessly without caring who was trapped inside it.
My hands clenched into fists, trying to stop the tremor creeping through my fingers.
"Calm down, Vein… don't panic…"
Even my own voice betrayed me.
It trembled.
Fragile.
Then—
Sssshhhh…
The sound slid softly across the ground.
Wet.
Heavy.
Like something massive dragging its body through damp earth.
I froze.
"…The serpent…"
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Slowly, I turned.
And I saw it.
The serpent.
Its long body was dark green, thick and heavy, its dull scales reflecting the pale light of the sky. Its eyes were empty.
Not angry.
Not hungry.
Just staring.
It moved.
Sliding toward me.
The grass bent beneath its weight, the soil splitting slightly as deep marks carved themselves into the ground behind it.
My chest tightened.
"It's… coming…"
I stepped back.
The serpent moved forward.
The distance between us shrank.
A little.
Then a little more.
Now I could see its scales clearly. Every overlapping edge, every faint scar across its body stood sharp in my vision.
"What…?"
I stepped back again.
And suddenly its movement changed.
It accelerated.
Its enormous body coiled and stretched with terrifying certainty, scales scraping against the earth.
Ssshhh… srrkkk…
The sound was no longer simply in front of me.
It felt as though it whispered directly beside my ear.
"No… don't…"
I turned—
And ran.
My fingers went numb. My grip loosened without me noticing. Every breath felt like dragging burning iron deep into my lungs.
Behind me—
Ssshhh… srrkkk…
The sound followed.
Faster.
Closer.
I risked a glance behind me.
The serpent glided across the ground with unnatural speed, its massive body undulating as it pursued. Its mouth slowly opened.
Fangs gleamed.
Thick strands of saliva slipped silently from its jaws.
It was chasing me.
And the distance—
was closing.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
—
The wind slammed against my face as I ran.
Grass bent beneath my feet, though I barely felt it. My legs moved without thinking while my breathing shattered into uneven bursts, each inhale tearing painfully through my lungs.
Behind me—
Ssshhh… srrkkk…
Steady.
Measured.
Not frantic.
I glanced back again.
The serpent followed.
Its mouth slightly open, its fangs pale beneath the sky. Its empty eyes never left me.
Not angry.
Not desperate.
Just present.
It didn't lunge.
It adjusted.
Matching my speed.
Then—
"Vein."
I nearly stumbled.
That voice.
"…What?"
"Vein."
Sylva.
Calm.
Too calm.
The voice didn't come from ahead of me or behind.
It bloomed directly inside my skull.
"Don't stop."
I clenched my teeth and pushed my legs harder.
"I know!"
"Don't stop."
This time it wasn't sound.
It was pressure.
Like invisible fingers closing around my thoughts.
I looked back again.
The serpent continued moving smoothly across the field.
And the distance between us—
hadn't changed.
Not closer.
Not farther.
Exactly the same.
Perfectly measured.
Cold crept slowly down my spine.
This wasn't pursuit.
It was maintenance.
The space between us wasn't shrinking.
It was being preserved.
"Don't stop."
The voice echoed again.
"Don't stop."
"Don't stop."
It no longer sounded like Sylva.
It no longer even sounded like a voice.
It was rhythm.
A rule.
"If you stop—"
The thought completed itself in my mind.
"—you will die."
But the serpent didn't accelerate.
It didn't need to.
My mind struggled to understand what I was seeing.
If the distance never changed—
If no matter how fast I ran it remained exactly the same—
Then I wasn't escaping.
I was performing.
My legs kept moving.
Not because I chose to.
But because something expected me to.
The stone ahead appeared again.
The leaning tree.
The crack in the earth.
Exactly the same.
Had I passed them before?
Or had I never moved at all?
"Don't stop."
The command echoed again.
Closer now.
Closer than my own heartbeat.
Not chasing.
Guiding.
Keeping me inside the motion.
If I stopped—
Would the serpent attack?
Or would something worse happen?
Would the illusion break?
Would the world correct itself?
My thoughts fractured.
Why am I obeying?
Why does the command feel more dangerous than the serpent?
My stride faltered.
Just for half a second.
The voice sharpened instantly.
"Don't stop."
Urgent.
Almost afraid.
And that—
that terrified me more than anything else.
Not the serpent.
Not the endless distance.
But the possibility that the voice didn't want me to discover—
what would happen
if I stopped.
My breathing slowed.
My legs hesitated.
And in that tiny pause—
the entire world seemed to lean closer.
Waiting.
—
I ran until my legs stopped feeling like they belonged to me.
Until my breathing shattered into uneven fragments.
Until my thoughts began to splinter apart.
And inside that chaos—
a fragile idea surfaced.
If I already know the distance never changes…
then why am I still obeying?
The thought struck harder than fear itself.
The voice—
was it really trying to save me?
Or was it keeping me running?
Rage burst through my chest.
"Enough…!"
But before I could inhale—
"Vein."
Too close.
Not from the field.
Not from the serpent.
From inside my head.
"Don't stop."
The tone was flat.
Measured.
Exactly like Sylva when she gave orders.
And that was what made my skin crawl.
"Shut up…" I hissed.
My hand moved without thinking.
The bottle.
The strength potion.
"Don't stop, Vein."
I drank it.
The liquid burned as it slid down my throat.
Then it ignited.
Heat exploded through my chest, forcing my mana to surge violently through my body. The energy felt unstable, sharp, like a machine being pushed far beyond its safe limits.
"Good," the voice murmured.
"Keep going."
"I'm not listening to you."
I activated the buff.
And I ran.
Not away.
Toward the serpent.
Wind tore across my face as my muscles screamed in protest. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.
"Don't stop."
The voice returned.
Closer.
Louder.
Layered.
"Don't stop."
"Don't stop."
"Don't stop."
It wasn't guiding me anymore.
It was synchronizing me.
Controlling the rhythm of my steps.
My fear.
My momentum.
I felt the distance shrink.
Just a little—
"Yes," the voice whispered. "A little more."
But when I looked again—
it hadn't changed.
Not even slightly.
Still the same.
Always the same.
"Why?!" I screamed, my voice cracking.
"Why doesn't it change?!"
And then—
I stopped.
Abruptly.
My body staggered as my momentum collapsed.
My chest heaved violently while cold sweat ran down my spine.
"Don't stop."
The voice didn't panic.
It didn't shout.
It simply waited.
"If you stop, Vein," it said gently, almost kindly, "you die."
I closed my eyes.
My teeth clenched so tightly they hurt.
"Enough…"
I turned my back to the serpent.
Lowered my head.
And breathed in.
One.
The voice remained.
"Don't stop."
Two.
It felt closer.
Like breath brushing against the back of my neck.
"Don't stop."
Three.
My chest tightened painfully.
"If I panic…" I whispered, barely audible, "…I lose."
I forced silence.
Forced stillness.
Forced my thoughts to slow.
And for the first time—
the voice stuttered.
Like a broken record catching on its own groove.
I straightened slowly.
Then turned back toward the serpent.
My breath froze inside my lungs.
The serpent was already there.
Right in front of my face.
So close that I could see my own reflection inside its eyes.
Black.
Bottomless.
But the reflection was wrong.
My body trembled—
yet the one in its eyes stood perfectly still.
Its breath rolled over me, thick and damp, carrying the scent of wet soil and something ancient.
Something that had never known sunlight.
The air around its mouth was cold.
Colder than the wind.
Colder than fear.
Its scales weren't smooth.
Up close they looked like layers of overlapping scars, each shifting faintly as if something beneath them tried to move.
The serpent didn't coil.
Didn't tense.
It simply hovered there.
Its pale fangs hung motionless.
Not dripping.
Not shaking.
Just waiting.
I couldn't tell if it was looking at me—
or through me.
And beside my ear—
"Vein."
Not a command.
Not a warning.
A certainty.
There was no distance anymore.
No chase.
No illusion of space.
Only proximity.
And the sudden realization—
it had never been about the serpent.
My mind faltered.
My body reacted.
"AAAAH—!"
I struck.
With everything.
Fear.
Rage.
Defiance.
BOOOM—
Air detonated.
The ground cracked beneath my feet.
Mana burst outward in a violent surge.
And the voice—
vanished.
Not faded.
Not echoed.
Gone.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Too absolute.
No wind.
No serpent.
No whisper.
Only the sound of my own heartbeat.
And the horrifying realization—
the voice had stopped speaking
because it no longer needed to.
The lesson was already complete.
—
Then—
silence.
No second impact.
No hiss.
No collapsing trees.
Nothing.
My body staggered.
The strength drained from me all at once, like a cord had been severed deep inside my chest. My knees buckled and I collapsed into the cold grass.
"Ha… ha… ha…"
Every breath scraped painfully through my throat.
My head throbbed as the world tilted slowly, reluctantly, like reality itself was struggling to settle back into place.
My hands trembled as I forced myself to look up.
And saw—
nothing.
No serpent.
No shadow.
No torn earth.
Just an endless field of grass swaying gently beneath a perfectly blue sky.
As if nothing had ever existed there at all.
"…What?"
I turned to the right.
Empty.
To the left.
Empty.
Behind me.
Empty.
The space where the serpent had been felt wrong.
Not vacant.
Hollow.
As if something had been removed too quickly, leaving behind only the impression of its existence.
"I… I hit…"
My voice cracked.
"What did I hit?"
I looked at my fist.
No blood.
No scales.
No crater.
Only faint trembling.
Had I struck air?
Had I been running alone this entire time?
My stomach twisted violently.
For a terrifying moment, I wasn't sure whether the serpent had disappeared—
or if I had.
Exhaustion pressed down on me.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
My body felt like soaked cloth dragged through the dirt and wrung dry.
Every breath cost more than the last.
I almost closed my eyes.
Almost surrendered to the darkness creeping into my vision.
And then—
something slipped through the wind.
Distant.
Very distant.
A muffled boom.
A scream carried thinly across open land.
Another burst—
mana.
Impact.
Battle.
I froze.
"That…?"
For a moment I couldn't tell whether the sound existed outside the field—
or inside it.
My heartbeat slammed hard against my ribs.
"That's…"
Another faint explosion echoed through the air.
Not illusion.
Not inside my head.
Real.
"War…?"
Elna's face flashed through my mind.
Then Sylva's.
Their images overlapped with the hollow reflection I had seen inside the serpent's eyes.
For a moment I couldn't separate memory from fear.
"No…"
I bit down hard, forcing myself to focus.
"Not now…"
Not another illusion.
Not another loop.
Not another voice.
I forced my legs to move.
They shook violently as I pushed myself upright.
My vision blurred at the edges.
The field still looked wrong.
Too bright.
Too clean.
But the sound—
the sound didn't repeat.
It didn't echo in my skull.
It came from somewhere real.
Somewhere ahead.
"I have to…"
My voice barely formed.
"I have to go back."
Back.
To them.
To something solid.
To pain I understood.
I began to run.
Not fast.
Not steady.
Every step dragged like bone grinding against bone.
My muscles screamed in protest.
The air behind my spine felt heavier than the wind.
But I moved.
Because this time—
no voice commanded me.
No whisper controlled my pace.
The silence followed me.
But it did not rule me.
Not because I was brave.
But because I was afraid—
that if I looked back
I might still see it standing there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And this time—
smiling.