"Ethan? Slow down! My legs almost tripped!"

After explaining the dire situation with the approaching Last Boss to Mary, despite the implausibility of his words, she believed him. As such, the two were now running through the broken streets, with Ethan pulling her along by the hand.

His mind spun as they ran, recalling the traumatic events from moments before.

'That night... I died. Those f*cking dogs tore me apart.'

It had happened minutes ago, yet the memory was as vivid as though it were still happening. But that wasn’t what troubled him the most.

'My Rewind skill... It should’ve been on cooldown.'

In this shattered world, a skill on cooldown cannot be activated. It was a fundamental rule, something no one questioned. Yet, his skill had activated, pulling him back despite the cooldown not being over. Confusion gripped him, and soon enough, he harbored a guess that made sense.

'I can only rewind up to 24 hours. If I die before the cooldown finishes... Does it rewind the exact number of seconds the clock ticked by?'

The idea sent a chill down his spine. Was it really saving his life, or just extending his suffering by seconds? A twisted safety net in a world spiraling into despair. The fear clawed at his sanity, threatening to crack the fragile grip he had on reality.

'I still have time now. As long as I have time, I can escape! I can survive!'

Together with Mary, they followed the path he'd taken before. Their pace was slower this time—his frantic flight now tempered by caution and the presence of Mary, which forced them to take breaks. She wasn’t just a companion; she was a liability. But she was also something more.

Ethan felt a tug of guilt as he looked at her. He hadn’t dragged her along just to save her; he had a more calculated reason. She was a healer. Keeping her around increased his chances of surviving, plain and simple. He wasn’t some hero protecting her out of kindness.

*GRRR!*

"...!"

A low, menacing growl pierced the silence. Ethan reacted instantly, pulling Mary down behind a crumbling wall. He peeked over cautiously, his pulse racing.

Fifty meters ahead, a pack of Devil Hounds could be seen. Their noses twitching in the air, searching for the scent of their prey. Panic surged through Ethan, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

"This is bad..." he whispered, teeth clenched.

Mary was just a healer, and in this situation, she might as well have been a civilian. As for Ethan, he wasn’t much better. They were outmatched—two weak survivors against vicious predators.

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'Go away. Just go away!'

He prayed desperately as the Devil Hounds continued to sniff the air. A few tense moments passed before, miraculously, the pack turned and ran east, disappearing behind piles of rubble.

Ethan let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he’d been holding. Relief washed over him. “Looks like they’re gone—”

But before he could finish, a rumbling snarl sounded right behind them. His blood turned to ice as he whipped around, just in time to see a Devil Hound leaping at Mary from the shadows.

Time seemed to slow down. Ethan was faced with a choice. Pull her to safety, or... save himself.

His body moved before his mind could. He shoved Mary to the side, but not far enough, unfortunately.

*CRUNCH!*

The hound’s massive jaws sank into her shoulder, tearing through flesh. She let out a tragic scream, eyes wide with terror. She reached out to him, her fingers trembling, her face twisted in agony.

"Help me...!" she gasped, blood bubbling from her lips.

But Ethan froze. The fear he felt devoured him whole, pushing his body to move before his thoughts settled. He turned and ran.

Behind him, he could hear Mary's screams, the wet sounds of the hound’s jaws ripping into her. Tears blurred his vision, and his heart felt constricted by the weight of his cowardice. The guilt gnawed at him as his legs moved, escaping the scene.

He told himself he had no choice—that it was her or him.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't the case.

*RAGH!*

Suddenly, searing pain came from his leg as one of the hounds gnawed at it, dragging him down. He hit the ground hard, his face smashing into the jagged pavement, smashing his nose into a bloody mess, and filling his mouth with the taste of iron.

"Get off! GET OFF!" he screamed, kicking it away frantically.

But a few more came. They teamed up and tore into him with savage hunger, their teeth ripping flesh and crushing bones. The pain was excruciating, but it wasn’t the worst part.

Through his blurry vision covered with bitter tears, he saw her—Mary. Her broken body lay a few meters away, but her eyes were still open. They met his, filled with something he couldn’t bear to see. Was it anger? Sorrow? Betrayal?

Her lips moved silently, and though he couldn’t hear her, he knew what she was saying.

"Serves you right."

*SNAP!*

A loud shattering sound entered his ears, followed by vision fading to black.

---

Ethan rose as if waking up from a nightmare, his bloodshot eyes darting wildly. His entire body was drenched in sweat, with the memory of the pain still lingering in his flesh. No, it was still haunting him, even now. He clawed at his throat, the sensation of being torn apart vivid in his senses.

"Ethan! Ethan, what’s wrong?"

Mary’s voice. It was her, again, looking at him with concern. But all he saw was the blood-soaked memory, her lifeless eyes accusing him.

"YOU!" he roared.

Before his mind could work, his hands moved around her fragile-looking neck, squeezing. His vision was red, and all he could hear was her sneering voice, haunting him. He was so out of it that he didn’t even notice the others around them until it was too late.

*SLASH!*

His vision spun as a sharp, cold pain sliced through his neck. In that short moment, he saw a familiar face behind him, staring at his own headless body with disgust—the sword hero.

He didn’t even have time to scream before everything went dark once again.

When he opened his eyes, he was back. The same broken refugee camp. The same hopeless faces. The same Mary, who noticed him stirring and approached.

He touched his neck, still feeling the phantom pain of the sword passing through it.

"..."

Ethan’s hands trembled, but before he could react, Mary knelt beside him, her voice soft and filled with concern. "Ethan? Are you okay?"

Despite her gentle approach, the phantom haunting him has yet to fade. A jeering smile, and eyes looking down on him. He couldn’t take it. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby piece of rubble and swung. It happened too fast for her to dodge.

Blood sprayed across the ground.

"YOU!!!"

And then, once again, the sword hero came, delivering judgment to the refugee who went rogue—Ethan. A flash of steel was burned into his eyes, and everything went dark.