Thud, thud, thud.

Marshmallow started his descent down the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing in the surrounding silence. As he went down, his mind wandered, pondering the sudden separation from his companions. Where had they gone? Were they okay? Would they manage on their own against that monster? And why was Marshmallow here, all alone now? Too many questions swirled in his head, but Marshmallow could do nothing but press on. Yet the more he went, the more the stairs seemed endless.

Frustrated, he began to run, leaping dozens of steps at a time. And then something unexpected happened. An ethereal figure appeared before him, blocking his path. Marshmallow stopped abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet.

What the...

The figure took shape. It transformed into a gray cat. A flying cat, to be precise, as it had two bird wings whirling frantically to keep it afloat in the air. With a haughty expression on its face, the cat stared at Marshmallow with intelligent, piercing eyes.

"Welcome, Marshmallow," the cat said in a smooth voice. "My name is Puel, and I'll be your guide on this journey."

Marshmallow raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Guide? What journey? I'm going to BloodLust. I'm not on any journey."

Puel made an elegant gesture with its paw. "Oh, you will go to BloodLust. But first, you'll have to face your past."

"My past?" Marshmallow crossed his arms over his chest distrustfully. "And what would you know about my past?"

The cat snickered. "I was created by BloodLust himself, what did you think? He programmed me specifically to guide you through your memories. Don't worry, I'm not here to hinder you, but to help you understand."

Understand? Understand what?

Marshmallow remained silent for a moment, assessing the situation. Could he trust this creature?

"How does this journey into the past work?" Marshmallow asked.

"You'll observe four crucial moments in your life," Puel replied with the tail moving slowly in the air. "You'll reflect on them, understand how they shaped you. Only then can you meet BloodLust."

Marshmallow was pretty skeptical. He didn't understand the point of all this. Yet, a part of him was curious. Maybe he could really learn something.

With a sigh, he nodded. "Alright. Show me."

As soon as he uttered those words, the environment around him changed. A dense fog enveloped him, obscuring the staircase and Puel. Slowly, the fog began to dissipate, revealing the first scene.

Marshmallow found himself in a playground. The sun shone high in the sky, and children's laughter filled the air. Among them, he immediately recognized himself: him at seven years old, with messy hair and a carefree smile on his face.

"Watch carefully," Puel said, appearing beside him. "This is the moment you learned your first hard lesson about life."

The scene unfolded like a movie before his eyes. Little Marshmallow played happily with other children, building sandcastles and chasing each other around the swings. But then suddenly everything changed.

A group of older bullies approached. Marshmallow remembered them well: Josh, the leader, with his red hair and freckles; Mike, tall and skinny as a pole; and Tommy, the biggest of them all, as big as a bison.

Josh pushed little Marshmallow to the ground from behind, knocking him face-first into the sand, scraping his hands and knees. "Hey, pipsqueak," Josh sneered. "This is our park. Get lost!"

Little Marshmallow, helpless and scared, began to cry. Tears streaked his cheeks as he looked up at the bullies surrounding him.

Adult Marshmallow felt a pang in his heart. He vividly remembered that scene, not so much for what happened at that moment, but for what came after.

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His father, Thomas, saw what was happening from afar and intervened, chasing away the bullies. Marshmallow expected his father to hug and comfort him. Instead...

"Get up," Thomas said firmly. There was no anger in his tone, but no kindness either. It was a command, pure and simple.

Little Marshmallow sobbed, looking at his father with tear-filled eyes. "But dad..."

"I said get up," Thomas repeated. "A man doesn't cry when he falls. He gets back up and faces whoever knocked him down."

Adult Marshmallow watched the scene with a mix of conflicting emotions. He remembered the pain, the confusion, the feeling of betrayal he had felt at that moment.

"You need to learn to defend yourself," Thomas continued, ignoring his son's sobs. "Life is tough, and I won't always be there to protect you. Never let anyone walk all over you, got it?"

Little Marshmallow nodded, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. Reluctantly, he stood up with his knees shaking slightly. After that, father and son went home together. Thomas didn't hold his hand or even tend to his wounds. Marshmallow simply followed him with difficulty.

"What did you feel watching this scene?" Puel asked.

Marshmallow sighed deeply. "Pain, anger... but also understanding. Dad knew something strange was happening in the Wyolands, he had already sensed that war would break out in a few years, and so it did. At that moment, he just wanted to toughen me up, not hurt me, but he didn't know how to do it except in this way."

"And what did you learn at that moment?"

"That the world can be cruel," Marshmallow replied, his eyes fixed on the figure of his younger self. "And that you have to be strong to survive."

Puel nodded twice. "But perhaps you also learned to repress your emotions? To not show vulnerability?"

Marshmallow froze. Those words hit him like a cannonball. It was true, from that day on he had started to build a wall around his heart, to hide his fears and weaknesses. And before he could reflect further, the scene faded, returning to the fog he had seen before. Marshmallow knew he was about to see the next memory, and a part of him feared what it might reveal about himself.

The fog dissipated again, this time revealing a crowded shopping mall. Marshmallow saw himself at thirteen walking with his whole family. His sisters were little girls, and his baby brother Oliver was still in the stroller. Oliver was already big, but they had been walking for a long time, so they let him stay in the stroller as an exception. Seeing the whole family together like this warmed Marshmallow's heart. That day they were happy, he remembered it clearly. It was a period of truce from the war, and his family had decided to take advantage of it to go shopping.

"This," Puel said, "is the moment you first encountered the temptation of gambling."

Marshmallow remembered that day very well, and seeing that scene was already leaving a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He had asked permission to wander around the mall alone to feel grown-up and independent. His mother disagreed, but his father decided to let him go as long as he returned to them within half an hour.

Walking around the mall, he observed how at one point his younger self stopped in front of a claw machine. Inside, an official soccer ball of the Pancrazia team shone like treasure, and the boy's eyes lit up with desire.

"I gotta have it," young Marshmallow muttered, putting his hands on the claw machine. "I'll be the envy of all my friends!"

Adult Marshmallow watched with a mix of nostalgia and regret as his younger self began inserting coins into the machine, attempt after attempt.

"Remember what you felt at that moment?" Puel asked.

Marshmallow nodded. "Excitement, adrenaline, the belief that the next attempt would be the one."

The scene continued, showing Marshmallow persisting more and more, ending up spending all twenty wyodollars he had in his pocket without success. The ball was still trapped in the claw machine, stubbornly remaining out of his reach. Adult Marshmallow couldn't help but notice the disappointment and remorse on his younger self's face. He vividly remembered the empty feeling in his stomach when he realized he had spent all his money. He was thus forced to return to his family, feeling robbed of twenty wyodollars.

Adult Marshmallow thought he should have learned from his mistake, understood that he had to stay away from those machines at all costs. But his past self had thought differently. Little Marshmallow was convinced he simply hadn't invested enough. If he had had a few more wyodollars available, he would have surely made it.

"What lesson did you learn from this episode?" Puel asked.

"None, actually," Marshmallow replied bluntly. "In fact, it was the beginning of my descent into the abyss. But I have nothing to blame that claw machine for. Sooner or later in life, I would have encountered something similar."

He then ran a hand through his hair as a gesture of frustration and awareness. "Maybe, though, I did take something home. I understood that choices have consequences. That money was supposed to last me a whole week, and instead..."

Puel nodded slowly, and its feline eyes seemed to penetrate Marshmallow's soul. "And how did this experience influence your future choices?"

"It made me more impulsive," he replied sharply again. "The desire for an easy win had remained ingrained in me, often leading me to make wrong choices. It's as if that day I learned the wrong thing: instead of understanding the danger of gambling, I just thought that next time I should play more to win."

The scene faded again, leaving Marshmallow to reflect on the implications of that seemingly insignificant moment in his life. He realized how much that single episode had influenced the course of his existence, leading him down a dangerous path that he had struggled to leave.