I walked out of the church.

The gravel crunched beneath my feet, each step an echo in the silence. The morning sun rained down in all its glory, the cloudless blue sky stretching far into the horizon. The playground was empty and abandoned.

The children were inside, attending their makeshift classes in the orphanage school. The stillness of the air was punctuated only by the distant hum of cicadas.

I easily escaped the church by simply walking out the front door. Unbothered by any presence.

I had already snatched some bread for myself, stolen from the other kids. After the beating I gave last night, no one dared stop me. The pain on my knuckles bothered, but I couldn't care. The bread was wrapped in a piece of old newspaper, tucked into the deep pockets of my worn-out shorts. It wasn't much, but it would last me a few miles at least.

I can learn to survive on scraps.

I wandered into the town, my figure attracting many eyes. The streets were far more crowded than before, with people bustling about, heading to work or running errands. The air was thick with the smell of fried food and exhaust fumes. Morning rush, I guessed. I veered off the main road, taking an alley that ran parallel to it.

I shifted through the shadows, sticking close to the walls to avoid the wandering eyes of strangers. I had no desire to be noticed, especially not now. I kept near the main road, knowing it would lead me straight out of town. I needed to get away, away from this place that smelled of despair and rot.

I got to leave my past behind and learn of ways to get out of this nightmare.

Turning a corner, I prepared to cross the street to continue my escape. But then I froze.

Standing there, right in front of me, was someone I hadn't expected to see. A small kid with tousled brown hair and a grin that was too big for his face. The stupid grin widened even more when he spotted me.

I stepped back, instinctively sinking into the darkness and pulling back into the alley.

"Hey, Zion!" he shouted, his voice annoyingly bright, piercing through the dreariness of the alley. "Wanna play with us?"

I pulled back further into the alley, I'd already notice his friends, their change of expression when they heard my name. My stomach twisted with annoyance. I didn't want to be dragged into his games or meet his friends.

I need to escape.

But I knew avoiding him was pointless. I could hear his footsteps speeding up, echoing off the narrow alley walls.

"C'mon, it'll be fun!" he said, bursting into the alley, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. He dragged me with him, pulling me toward whatever nonsense game he had planned.

I tried to yank my arm away, but his grip was like iron. There was no escaping this. He dragged me back to his group, and before I knew it, I was reluctantly thrust into their stupid game. The other kids kept their distance from me, their eyes wary and filled with contempt. But He didn't care. He just wanted to play, to have fun, and for some reason, he wanted me there too.

He didn't care that the others looked at me like I was diseased. He didn't care that I didn't speak much, or at all. He just wanted to be my friend.

But friendship was a weakness. It was a chain that tied would tie me down, a shackle that would bound me to this nightmare. I needed to get out of this nightmare. But I couldn't escape him, or his stupid persistence.

The game dragged on for hours, a mindless bout of hide and seek in the edge of the town, among abandoned buildings and broken fences. I was forced to play, forced to endure their laughter and chatter.

Finally, they tired out and we ended up back in the common room in one of the abandoned houses—a bleak space with grey walls, grey floors, grey everything. I sat by the window, staring out at the fading sunlight. The other kids kept to the opposite side of the room, whispering among themselves.

He plopped down next to me, his annoying presence a constant.

"You know, you're not so bad, Zion," he said, nudging my shoulder. His voice was soft, almost kind. "Just gotta let people in a bit, that's all."

I didn't reply.

He just kept smiling, like an idiot. And for a moment, I thought it was okay. it was fine to rest. I almost let myself think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't so bad either. But then I remembered why I was here. Why I need to get out.

And the weird thought vanished like smoke,

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Suddenly, the air around me shifted. It grew colder, heavier, almost suffocating. I felt myself being pulled into something—a vortex of shadows and whispers. The world around me blurred, and when it came back into focus, I was somewhere else entirely. A narrow alley, its walls lined with rusted metal sheets and worn-out bricks. It was night now, and everything was cast in shades of grey and black.

Ahead of me stood a crooked, two-story building that seemed ready to collapse under its own weight. The broken windows and peeling paint gave it the appearance of an abandoned factory, but I knew better. A chill ran down my spine.

This place, this moment—it was all too familiar. Like a nightmare I hadn't visited in years.

I? took a step forward, gravel crunching beneath my feet, and found myself inside. The floorboards creaked with every step, the air thick with an oppressive weight. It was as if the walls themselves were whispering secrets I couldn't quite hear.

The shadows flickered in and out of view, like distant memories. I could hear muffled laughter, hushed voices, but they were behind a veil—distant, unreachable. And then, another shift. Time blurred again and the color drained from my vision.

I was in the back alley of the orphanage now. It was darker here, the shadows deeper, more suffocating. The laughter was gone, replaced by an eerie, haunting silence. My heart pounded in my chest, a sinking feeling settling in my gut.

And then I saw him.

The kid lay on the ground, motionless. His face was too pale, his eyes wide open, staring blankly into the night. Blood pooled around his head, dark and thick, the only color left in this world. It socked the dirt in red.

"Mark?" I? called out, my voice barely more than a whisper. My? feet were rooted to the spot.

No response.

I took a shaky step closer, my breath catching in my throat. "Mark!"

Still nothing. My mind spun in circles. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening.

But it felt real. Too real.

I? took few more shaky steps, approaching closer. I? reached out with trembling hands, touching his shoulder. His skin was cold, too cold. I reached my hands to his neck, the action taking all my will as I screamed my body to move.

Then I heard them—the voices.

Whispers growing louder, more insistent, like a rising tide.

"He did it."

"It was Zion."

"He killed him."

I spun around, and there they were—the other kids. Their faces twisted with fear, anger, disgust. They looked at me like I was a monster. A killer.

"No," I muttered, backing away. "I didn't… I didn't do this."

The voice and actions were out of my control.

But their eyes bored into me, filled with accusation and contempt. They saw what they wanted to see. A monster and a prey to be trampled. I was an easy target. The perfect scapegoat.

"He always hated him," one of them whispered.

"He never wanted a friend," another added, his voice venomous.

I stood my ground, forcing my legs, my heart pounding louder and louder in my ears. The walls seemed to close in, the shadows stretching and warping around me. I could feel the weight of their stares, their silent condemnation. I tried to speak, to explain, to deny it, but the words were stuck in my throat.

The whispers grew louder, more vicious.

"Monster."

"Killer."

"Freak."

My will veined. I fell to my knees beside Mark's body, the world around me spiraling out of control. My hands were stained with his blood. My head was filled with their voices, their hatred. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear.

Then, the shadows began to twist and stretch, pulling me deeper into the darkness. The world around me started to dissolve, the orphanage walls melting away like ash in the wind. The voices faded into a low, droning hum, leaving me alone in a vast, empty void.

I crumbled, my voice and breath turned silence. I was cowered in darkness, alone and afraid. All I could hear were the voice of contempt and despair that filled my head. I curled up trying to protect myself.

I heart pained as if thousand needles were stabbed.

"Pathetic," A voice similar to his resounded in the void.

All the emotion that were overwhelming were sliced by the voice. My mind cleared, the voices that screamed in my head died. I began to rememeber where I was—in a Nightmare Trial. How could I forget that?

"I thought sealing my memories would make me easier but nah," The voice spoke again. "It was a flop."

I jumped up, my head snapping in the direction of the voice.

"You.." My voice clogged.

The other voice was me, or the me before I sealed my memories. I remember, I entered hell with Starhearts help. But the demons....Argh.. a pain shot through Zion's head.

The memories flooded in. The time where his body was thrown through many different hells. From Hades, underworld, even Mahayana. Due to his knowledge of other Godly realm, hell's mechanism threw him around like a bounce balls.

To solve this problem, he decided to seal his memory and leave some subconscious commands. He left some residue to bring him to the 9 circles of hell. The plan was successful and he lost his memories. His faded body would try to reclaim it memory on its own as it reached the destination.

But the faded body had fallen into the Demons nightmare. Without memories, his will was weak, his existence was like a smoke. It was a facade that had no will nor existence, just a mindless goal. When the demons assaulted him with nightmare, he was caught off-guard and fell into the trap.

He should have predicted it, Removing the existence of Omnitrix and Destiny was a path failure. He didn't even know magic, just holy weapons and martial art. The faded body was not prepared for this.

He finally remembered his quest, why he was here and how to get out of this nightmare. If his backup protocol to unseal his memories were not activated, his faded version would have shackled here.

As Zion gained all his memories back, his other self vanished as if completed his purpose.

His childish self vanished from the darkness, leaving Old Zion standing alone. The darkness crawled up his legs, reaching up to his throat. As the shadow crawled to his face, his uttered the words that would take him out of this nightmare.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? Even in this darkness, I won't let fear control me. He is my strength, and I will not be shaken."

The words rippled out of the Zions mouth and into the darkness around him. The darkness began to crack, the golden lines extending his body from his body. The cracks expanded further and further, until gold replaced the darkness.

"Even if I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me,' even the darkness is not dark to Him. The night shines like the day. I can't hide, and I won't. His light will find me, and I will find my way back."

Zion uttered the words and opened his eyes, watching as a flaming sword tear through as A man with glazing golden hair and magnificent wings descended.

"Michael took you long enough," Zion spoke as he smiled.