The air pressed against his lungs, dense and laden with a damp stench that seemed to cling to his skin. Nathan trudged forward, his steps clumsy as each breath burned his throat. His mind, a storm of thoughts, finally broke the suffocating silence.

“…If I don’t complete these missions… I’ll die, right?” Nathan’s voice cracked as he uttered the last word.

Skizo, as calm as ever, examined his nails before responding.

“Well… Not exactly.”

Nathan felt a void in his stomach, as if the ground beneath him were about to give way. The word “die” echoed endlessly in his mind.

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” he asked, his throat tight, anger and fear battling for control.

A mocking laugh escaped Skizo’s lips.

“Relax. Completing a mission earns you an extra life. Fail one, and you lose one. A perfect balance, don’t you think?”

Nathan frowned.

“Extra life? So… this doesn’t extend my time? It just gives me more chances?”

“Exactly,” Skizo replied with a smug grin.

Nathan glanced at the clock. Its gears pulsed as if alive. More chances aren’t the same as infinite time, he thought. This doesn’t decide my end, not as long as I can fight.

“‘Extra life,’ huh?” Nathan muttered, his mind racing. “So it’s like… video games?”

“How clever you are. Essentially, you’re allowed to lose a few times before the final blow lands,” Skizo said, his tone dripping with mockery.

“And if I lose them all…” Nathan left the sentence unfinished, the weight of the implication hanging in the air.

“Well,” Skizo said, his voice cheerful, “let’s just say you won’t be around to ask any more questions.”

The ticking of the NecroRuna echoed on his wrist, syncing with his racing heartbeat. More chances… but not infinite time. This clock doesn’t decide my end. That’s up to me.

“Do you accept your fate, then?” Skizo interrupted, gesturing toward the path ahead. “We just have to follow any route. Eventually, a door will appear, and that’ll lead us to the Putrid Realm.”

Nathan lifted his head, his expression weary but defiant.

“I’m not doing this by choice… I just don’t want to die.”

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Skizo smiled, seemingly satisfied, and they continued in silence.

Nathan’s eyes wandered, lost in the vastness of the place, captivated and unsettled all at once. If this world is so awe-inspiring, how horrible must the Putrid Realm be?

“What is that place we’re heading to? And why?” he asked, trying to distract himself from the oppressive environment.

“Oh, the Putrid Realm? It’s where dreams go to die.”

“Great motivational speech,” Nathan said dryly.

“Oh, the best part is that your first mission is to eat a fruit from there.”

“Seriously?”

“Not everyone survives. But some say it tastes good.”

Nathan shook his head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This is absurd.

Ahead of them, pillars of stone floated in the air, defying all logic. Above, the sky stretched infinitely, galaxies, stars, and planets dancing with impossible precision.

Nathan took a step back, overwhelmed by the sight. His breathing quickened as his mind struggled to process what he was seeing. It was too vast, too strange—a beauty so alien it made him feel small and insignificant.

“This can’t be real…” he whispered, barely audible. But it was. And that terrified him more than anything.

Lowering his gaze to the NecroRuna, he noticed the soft ticking of its gears, like a heart beating out of rhythm. He touched it with trembling fingers.

“Is it… alive? Or part of me? I can even feel its texture…”

He leaned slightly over the edge, hypnotized by the mist swirling in the abyss. The cold seemed to rise from the void, clinging to his skin in silent warning.

For a moment, he imagined what it would feel like to fall: the endless descent, the final impact…

“Interested in finding out what happens if you fall?”

Skizo’s mocking voice snapped him out of his trance.

Nathan flinched as the butler grinned, seemingly enjoying a private joke.

“Come on, I’ll give you a push.”

“Oh, you just want material for your jokes?”

“No, Nathan, I’m not that cruel. I’d also take notes for future reference.”

Nathan stared at Skizo, whose expression remained that irritating mix of mockery and calm. He looks human, but he doesn’t act like one. Or maybe humans enjoy others’ suffering too… The only difference is he doesn’t hide it.

The silence filled with unspoken questions. Why is he helping me? What does he gain from this? Overwhelmed by the solitude of the journey, Nathan finally turned to Skizo, ready to ask:

“Hey, Skizo, you—”

The light from the clock pulsed anxiously, illuminating every dark corner of the path. Its warmth wasn’t comforting; it felt like an invisible hand pressing against his chest. Nathan stared at it, dread filling him.

“Come on, Nathan. It’s time,” Skizo said, pointing toward the portal with a newly acquired staff.

“And that?” Nathan asked, nodding toward the staff.

“Oh, this? Just a stick… or a key capable of unlocking entire worlds. Depends on your imagination, doesn’t it?”

“Right. Thought it was a magic staff.”

Skizo tapped Nathan lightly on the head with it, smirking.

“Don’t dismiss it so quickly, boy. Everything here has the potential to be magical. Even you.”

“Sure, but why do I have to go in first?” Nathan asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

Skizo extended a hand toward the door, but a glowing barrier stopped him.

“Sorry, kid. The portal and I don’t get along. Something about magical rules and boring stuff.”

Nathan took a deep breath and stepped toward the door but hesitated.

“Are you sure you can’t go first?”

“No, Nathan. That’s the rule.” Skizo smiled serenely, clearly enjoying the tension.

“Fine… Here goes nothing,” Nathan muttered.

The door’s glow enveloped him, and the air around him crackled with electricity. His legs trembled as a cold sweat ran down his back, the pressure in his chest growing with each step.

He glanced at Skizo, searching for some reassurance, but found only that infuriating, inscrutable smile.

I have to be brave… For my parents… for me… The words echoed hollowly in his mind, repeating like a broken mantra.

Each step brought him closer to the portal, which seemed to grow like a yawning mouth waiting to consume him. His breathing hitched, the weight of his fear crushing him. But his feet moved forward, defying his instincts.

At last, the light engulfed him, and reality itself crumbled around him.

The atmosphere shattered like invisible glass. A biting cold licked his skin, making him shiver to his core as a deep hum vibrated in his chest.

The air felt thick, like he was breathing in ashes from something ancient and decayed. An acrid stench invaded his lungs, burning his throat and stomach. Even the light was strange, tinged with a sickly hue that seemed to drain the world of color.

His vision blurred, and he struggled to stay on his feet before finally collapsing.

As the darkness claimed him, he felt the world itself closing in. Black, twisted roots, charred and lifeless, clung to his body as if trying to devour him.

This wasn’t just a strange world. It was a place that hungered.

End.