Chapter Thirty-Two:

“Through the Whispers”

The whispers turned into screams.

John clutched his head, his breath shattering as the voices surged—deafening, suffocating.

They weren’t just in his mind; they pressed against his skull like hands trying to pry it open, tearing through him with raw, searing intensity. He staggered forward, knees buckling as the sound swallowed everything. The world blurred at the edges, the ground tilting beneath him.

“SAVE HIM!!! SAVE EVERYONE!!! THE AIRSHIP!!!”

“Can’t you hear that?!” His own voice barely reached his ears over the deafening roar, but it echoed through the Hall of Echoes, startling those around him.

Hands were on his shoulders—Akira’s, steady as ever, trying to ground him. Rai’s grip, firm and commanding. But they didn’t hear it. No one did. Only him.

“TWINS!!! STOP LORD STERLING!!! WARN ROLAND!!! FIND THE OTHERS!!!”

The screams drilled into his skull, an unbearable crescendo. He gasped, his lungs burning as he tried to fight against the storm inside his mind. Then—

Nothing.

The screams cut off like a blade through thread, leaving behind an emptiness so sudden it made John's head spin.

His breath came in ragged gasps. The absence of sound was deafening, a void that pressed in as if reality itself had recoiled from whatever had just happened.

The world slammed back into focus so fast it left him dizzy, stars flashed before his eyes. The screams had vanished. Just... gone.

He was shaking. Rai and Akira were still there, steadying him. John blinked, trying to process what had just happened. His ears rang in the hollow quiet, and his pulse hammered against his ribs.

Rai's eyes locked onto him, searching. “What just happened?”

John swallowed hard. He felt full, like something had been forced into him. Something stronger. He met Rai’s gaze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he wasn’t drowning.

“I have to go back,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I know what I have to do.”

Akira frowned, skeptical. “Back where? To what?”

John exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I can’t explain it—not yet. I need to think for a bit. The voices weren’t just noise. They were telling me something, giving me directions. I need to get to the Realmweaver, find some twins, and locate an airship. It's the only way back." He turned to Akira, to Rai, to everyone watching him with wary eyes. “I don’t care if it sounds insane. I have to go back.”

A tense beat passed. Akira studied him, weighing his words. Finally, he sighed, rolling his shoulders, the cracks reverberated through the silent halls. “You’re right. It does sound insane.”

But he didn’t argue. Because what other choice did, they have?

The murmur of voices built up slowly.

The Hall of Echoes was filled with the desperate and broken. Bodies huddled in clusters, eyes darting, whispering in hushed voices.

“Lord Sterling will be here within hours he said.”

“He will kill us all.”

The weight of survival pressed against the walls like a living thing. Fear was thick in the air, thick enough to drown in.

The others gathered.

Rai stood at John’s side, her expression unreadable, but her presence was grounding. The two that had followed her—Takashi, the Yama-Okami warrior, his usually unwavering stare clouded with something heavier now, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as though gripping onto the memory of the one he lost.

Kaela, the Nekomijin rogue, her tail flicking with restless energy, though her ears remained low, betraying a grief she hadn’t voiced, moved closer. They were survivors, hardened by war and loss, and their silence carried weight.

“We need to regroup,” Rai said, her voice slicing through the unease. “We start with The Sleeping Fox… If it’s still standing that is.”

John nodded. “Then let’s move. I’m done being lost.”

The Hall of Echoes faded behind them as they stepped into the storm once more. But this time, John didn’t feel like he was being swallowed by it. He carried it with him, forged by it, unshaken.

Hope had returned.

And this time, he wouldn’t let go.

The weight of their next steps settled over them. The Hall of Whispers may have gone quiet, but the echoes of what it left behind still clung to John. The group walked in silence for a time, each lost in thought, until Akira finally spoke.

"We should stock up on supplies," he said, glancing toward the lights of the remnants of Kagemura’s market square. "No telling what comes next."

Rai nodded. "And food. I hope Mistress Tsubaki is okay, and The Sleeping Fox survived.”

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John hesitated but then nodded. "Yeah... that sounds good."

As they walked deeper into Kagemura, the air still carried the scent of lingering smoke from the battle. The sky overhead had begun to clear, casting silver moonlight over the recovering village. The remnants of conflict were evident in the damaged structures, yet life carried on. Stalls still stood, lanterns were lit, and the quiet resilience of its people filled the streets.

Within the marketplace, the chaos of rebuilding was everywhere.

Villagers hurried to salvage what they could, propping up makeshift stalls from shattered wood and broken carts. Some dug through the wreckage of what used to be shops, pulling out supplies that had been buried beneath the rubble. The acrid stench of burnt buildings and smoke-stained cloth hung in the air, clashing with the faintest hints of whatever food could still be salvaged.

Merchants called out, their voices edged with exhaustion as they arranged whatever stock had survived.

Some traded in whispers, exchanging food and materials in hushed urgency, while others worked with bloodied hands, tending to wounds between hurried sales.

Lanterns wavered in the evening breeze, casting uneven light across the market. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, smoke, and desperation clinging to every movement.

The Jade Lantern was still standing, but barely. The once-pristine jade sign above the entrance showcased a new crack that webbed down the middle, its elegant lettering tainted by battle. The roof had been scorched, though most of it remained intact, and the wooden walls bore deep gashes where debris had struck.

Inside, the warmth enveloped them. The counters were still in place, though parts of the glass display cases had been shattered, their remains swept into careful piles against the corners.The scent of aged parchment, incense, and medicinal herbs mixed with the acrid remnants of smoke.

John’s fingers brushed against the counter as he stepped forward. He could still hear Yumi’s laugh in this place. The memory wrapped around his throat, tightening like a noose.

“This is where I bought the Phoenix Feather I gave away. The one that could have saved her.”

Rai placed a hand on his arm, her voice steady. "The feather you gave saved a small child. Yumi wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”. So we honor her… we honor them all… by living, by fighting!"

Kaela, who had been silent, let out a slow breath. "Takeshi and Kaori weren’t just fighters. They were our family. And now we have to keep going without them. But that doesn’t mean we leave them behind. They’re still with us. In our souls… Always."

Takashi exhaled, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Always," his gaze distant, locked onto something no one else could see. The tension in his shoulders was undeniable.

Kaela ran a claw absently over the back of her hand, tracing an old scar, her ears flattening slightly.

"Twins, huh? Guess fate has a cruel sense of humor." She let out a short, humorless chuckle, but it faded fast.

Takashi exhaled, his voice barely audible. "We lost twins, and now we have to find a pair to fix everything? That’s..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

For a moment, no one spoke. Even RW hesitated, tilting her head as if trying to process their reactions. The silence stretched, weighted.

“They died with honor! There could be now better death.” Kaela finally spoke.

Her fingers absently ran over a small vial of stamina tonic. She uncorked it, taking a slow, deliberate sip—not enough to dull the ache, just enough to keep going. Nearby, Takashi lifted a small flask of healing salve, tipping it back with the same measured patience. Neither chugged. This wasn’t the instant relief the Players had. It was just enough to remind their bodies to hold together a little longer. She turned the herbs over in her hands, her ears drooping slightly. "They used to swear by this stuff," she muttered, before swallowing hard. "Told me it would keep my reflexes sharp. I never listened."

RW’s glow brightened, excitement creeping into her tone. "That means we have to go back to where they were the first Players were originally inserted, what Gameweaver refers to as Year One."

John let himself breathe in the moment.

Carefully, he unscrewed the cap of a minor Magic Potion and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through him, easing the exhaustion just a fraction, but it did nothing to mend the deeper aches. Across from him, Akira grimaced before downing a few drops of an Stamina Potion, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Ugh. You’d think someone would figure out how to make these not taste like death."

Rai smirked slightly as she set down her own half-finished flask, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "It’s not about taste, it’s about surviving." The weight of the screams had not left him, but here, surrounded by the rhythm of life, he could steady himself.

"You should buy something," Kaela mused to John, turning the herbs over in her hands. "A reminder that not everything is war."

Akira snorted. "He doesn’t need a trinket for that."

John let a small, tired smile tug at his lips. "Maybe I do."

A voice cut through the hum of the shop. "Then take this."

John turned to see a small Kitsune girl standing there, clutching something tightly in her hands. Her fur was a soft autumn hue, her ears twitching nervously as she stepped forward. She looked up at him with wide, admiring eyes before extending a small, dark wooden charm—carved in the shape of a fox.

John hesitated before reaching for it, fingers brushing against it’s surface.

Then, the HUD notification appeared.

[SPECIAL ITEM RECEIVED: YUMI'S LOVE +25% STRENGTH]

The words blinked across his vision, stark and undeniable. A system message, like all the others, yet this one hit hard.

He stared at the charm in his palm, its weight pressing into his skin. It wasn’t much, but it was real.

A tether to the love he lost.

A sob tore from his throat before he could stop it.

His knees hit the floorboards. His hands trembled as he clutched the charm to his chest, his breath breaking apart into ragged gasps.

The world blurred at the edges—not from exhaustion, not from pain, but from something deeper, something raw and overwhelming.

He looked up at the child through tear-streaked eyes, his voice shaking. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

The little Kitsune tilted her head, ears twitching, but she smiled. "She’s, my hero. She saved us."

After John regained his composure, they resupplied with what little items were salvaged.

They finally settled at The Sleeping Fox.

The tavern was miraculously intact despite the battle that had raged through Kagemura. As they sat, they placed what supplies on the table. The vials weren't magic fixes, they'd need rest, time, and actual food. Even so, John could feel the faintest relief as he slowly sipped another portion of Mistress Tsubaki’s soup. The warmth of the liquid did little to mend the deeper aches, but it was something. Plates of warm food sat before them, a rare comfort after days of uncertainty.

Rai stirred her drink, her expression unreadable. "Are you really just going to leave everyone to face Sterling alone?"

John met her gaze, unwavering. His palm pressed flat against the table, grounding him. His fingers curled slightly around Yumi's charm. "Once I save Roland, Sterling won't matter anymore. This is the only way to save them---I have to believe that."

Rai set her cup down with deliberate care. "Then I'm coming with you."

"So am I," Akira added, his usual skepticism giving way to determination. "Someone has to keep you both from doing anything stupid."

Kaela's ears drooped. "What about us?"

RW's form pulsed apologetically. "The Realmweaver can only seat four. Even that's pushing its limits."

“I can only fit four in Realmweaver.” John translated.

"Then you two hold the line here," Rai said, reaching across to grip Kaela's hand. "Keep your people safe. We’ll fix this. I promise."

Takashi nodded grimly. "We'll be here. Just... make it count."

Mistress Tsubaki, who had been tending to the tables nearby, didn't speak, but as she passed, she set down four small flasks. A quiet encouragement, an unspoken blessing for their journey.

As they gathered their things, John hesitated at the doorway.

He cast one last glance at the warm glow of the tavern, at the voices inside---familiar, alive, everything they were fighting to preserve.

Then he turned away.

They stepped into the night, their fate already sealed. None of them looked back.