Lyssa found herself in a vast expanse of white, utterly alone. Everything around her was pure, unbroken white, endless and quite.
She wandered aimlessly, her voice small as she called out, “Is anyone there?” But no answer came. Only her voice echoed back.
Sadness settled over her, and she sank to the ground, hugging her knees. Tears welled up as she cried, wishing desperately for someone—anyone—to be with her. She closed her eyes and imagined Thalric, hoping, praying that somehow he would be at her side. She imagined him alive, holding her close.
Suddenly, a panicked scream shattered the silence. Lyssa looked up, her heart racing. Thalric was falling from the sky, plummeting toward her. Her own scream rose in her throat as she scrambled to move out of the way.
It was too late. Thalric landed on top of her with a thud. She grunted, pushing him off with effort. "Ouch, ouch... it hurts. Why does it hurt?" she murmured, confused.
Her mind raced. She remembered Arayn had killed her. Now, here she was, still feeling pain. It didn't make sense.
Thalric quickly rose to his feet, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Lyssa blinked, still in shock. "How are you still alright? Don't you feel pain?" she asked, her voice shaky.
Thalric shook his head, looking around. "No, I don't feel it. More importantly, where are we?"
Lyssa paused, confused, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. "I don’t know," she admitted. "I thought... I thought I was dead. I thought you were dead."
Thalric's face fell as he looked at Lyssa. "I see... so you're dead too," he said softly, his voice heavy with regret. "In the end, I couldn’t protect someone again."
Lyssa’s heart ached at the sorrow in his eyes. She reached out and gently patted his head, a small, comforting smile on her face. "Hey," she said softly, "don’t feel sad. I’m still here. Your promise hasn’t been broken yet."
Her words, despite the weight of their situation, seemed to bring a flicker of hope back to Thalric’s gaze. He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, and the sadness in him seemed to ease.
Thalric looked at her, then nodded toward the endless white. "We should explore this place," he said. "Maybe we can figure it out."
Lyssa nodded in agreement, and together, they began to move through the vast, empty space, searching for answers.
They had been exploring for what felt like an eternity, yet all they encountered was endless white. The blank, empty expanse stretched out in every direction, a constant reminder of their isolation. Lyssa grew weary of it all. She dropped to the ground with a soft sigh, her frustration evident.
"I give up," she muttered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "This place seems endless."
Thalric knelt beside her. "Don’t give up," he urged. "We’ll find something."
Lyssa pouted, crossing her arms. "But we haven’t encountered anything yet."
He gave her a reassuring smile. "Remember, you were alone before you met me. If you don’t give up now, maybe we’ll find something."
Lyssa fell silent, her gaze wandering over the white void. Her mind was racing, but she couldn’t help but wonder about the strange nature of this place. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she looked at Thalric, her eyes widening. "Where did you fall down from, anyway?"
Thalric shrugged. "I don’t know. I just... suddenly existed here."
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Lyssa furrowed her brow, contemplating his words. Then, a memory resurfaced—she had wished for him to be here, to be with her. Could that have brought him here? The thought sparked something in her mind. Her eyes brightened with an idea. She clenched her hands together, closed her eyes, and whispered to herself, "I wish to see a beautiful landscape."
She opened her eyes, only to find that the world around her remained as it was—still white, still empty.
Thalric chuckled. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Lyssa’s cheeks turned red as she fidgeted, her voice uncertain. "I… I think I found a way out of this place," she admitted. "When I wished for you to be here, you appeared."
Thalric rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed in thought. "But just wishing doesn’t seem to work," he pointed out. "Did you do anything else besides that?"
Lyssa’s eyes widened as she recalled Arayn’s words—Imagine. Her heart pounded as she closed her eyes and focused. She pictured rolling green fields stretching endlessly beneath a golden sun. In her mind, a crystalline river wound through the land, reflecting the sky’s brilliance. Towering trees with thick leaves swayed gently, their branches adorned with pink-ish flowers. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming flora, and the distant call of birds filled the air.
When she opened her eyes, the endless white void was gone. The breathtaking landscape she had envisioned now surrounded them.
Thalric gasped, his golden eyes widening in shock. He spun in place, taking in the vibrant scenery. "What… did you do?" he asked.
Lyssa exhaled slowly, still processing what had just happened. "I listened to Arayn’s advice," she admitted. "He said my origin is imagination. I don’t really understand what that means, but… it worked. I just imagined things."
At the mention of Arayn’s name, Thalric’s expression darkened. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to relax. "Then you should imagine getting out of this place," he advised.
Lyssa nodded and closed her eyes once more. This time, she focused on escaping this strange world, picturing herself somewhere real. She imagined the ruined district of the town, the scent of dust and burnt wood, the cool touch of the evening breeze.
Then she blinked.
The vibrant landscape vanished. Instead, the orange hues of a dying sun painted the sky above her. She felt the rough texture of cracked stone beneath her palms as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. The ruined district stretched around her—broken buildings, shattered windows, the remnants of a lively place.
Her fingers trembled as she pinched her cheek. Pain jolted through her skin. Her breath hitched.
"I… really came back," she whispered, staring at her hands. "I’m alive. How is this possible…?"
A sharp pain flared in Lyssa’s chest, forcing a gasp from her lips. She clutched at the spot where Arayn’s sword had pierced her, her fingers pressing gently against smooth skin. There was no wound, no blood—only the lingering ache of a strike that should have ended her life. Her breath hitched as she stared at her trembling hands.
She shook herself. It didn’t matter. She was alive. That was all that mattered. A smile slowly spread across her lips, bright and full of relief.
"We really got out!" she exclaimed, turning to Thalric.
Thalric wasn’t there.
Her breath caught in her throat. Where Thalric should have been, only a severed wolf’s head lay on the cracked ground. Its fur, once thick and proud, was now matted with blood.
Her vision blurred with fresh tears.
"No…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
She crawled toward him, hands trembling as she reached out and cradled the head gently in her arms. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, splashing onto the lifeless fur.
"I’m sorry," she sobbed, her fingers curling into his fur. "I’m so sorry, Thalric…"
Her body trembled as she hugged the head against her chest, grief swallowing the happiness she had felt just moments ago.
---
Arayn stood on the rooftop, his gaze fixed on Lyssa as she sobbed over the severed wolf’s head. He watched in silence, the corners of his lips curling slightly.
“She really came back. This confirmed your words that following one's origin can improve one's growth. This is a valuable lesson,” he muttered. Then, with a satisfied smile, he turned away.
Darius’s voice echoed in his mind. "Young Master, I’ve always been curious. How can you tell someone’s origin? Do you have a power that lets you see it?"
Arayn chuckled softly. "It’s not some supernatural ability. Just deduction." He paused, then admitted, "I can’t always see them, and sometimes, I get it wrong."
Darius hummed in thought before saying, "Even so, that’s impressive, Young Master."
Arayn’s gaze flickered toward the ruined district below. "So, is Lyssa free now?"
"The rule states that a participant is eliminated when I declare them dead," Darius explained. "I already declared her death. That was my mistake. However, without a doubt, she’s free now."
Arayn’s smile widened. "Good. She’s weak now, but I want to see how powerful she’ll become."
As Arayn moved across the rooftop, Darius’s voice echoed in his mind. "Young Master, are you going after Kaelion next?"
Arayn yawned and said, "That was the plan, but honestly, they don’t interest me. We should move on to the final phase."
Darius chuckled. "Understood. I’ll set the stage for you."
Arayn didn’t respond. Instead, he leaped from the rooftop, landing effortlessly on another building.