CHAPTER 37

12

In the eerie darkness, a figure emerged, slipping gracefully from the shadows.

It moved with an otherworldly grace, akin to a wisp of smoke dancing in the night.

Blur's heart froze as he recognized the presence before him, a presence that sent shivers down his spine.

But—

There she stood, or at least her form did—Number 102.

The relief in Blur's eyes was palpable as tears welled up.

His voice trembled with emotion as he called out to her, his words a desperate plea, "Thank goodness you're okay, 102!"

Before her response could reach his ears, before her lips could even fully form his name, a nightmare unfurled before Blur's disbelieving eyes.

Out of the ether, a burning ash spear materialized, impaling Number 102 through her head with ruthless precision.

The world around them was splattered in hues of eerie blue as her blood painted the ground and the surrounding trees.

Blur's world shattered in that horrifying instant, his mind struggling to process the cruel turn of fate.

"10...2?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling with shock and grief.

Number 102's last moments were filled with pain and confusion as her life was cruelly extinguished.

"Bl... Ur," she choked on unspoken words, her body limp and lifeless, still skewered upon the merciless spear.

"Huh... Uhh..."

A guttural cry of agony tore from Blur's throat as he watched the malevolent beast dislodge her body only to impale it once more, as if reveling in her suffering.

"Ah..."

His screams grew louder and more desperate, his mind unable to reconcile the horrors before him.

"Ah... Agh... A-aah... Wah... Wa..." The words tumbled out incoherently as his body crumpled to the ground, his sobs echoing through the desolation.

The pain was unbearable, a torment beyond measure. His world had descended into madness, and he was powerless to halt its descent.

"Ah..."

"Ah... A-a... Ah..."

As the beast continued its grotesque act, Blur's vision blurred, his blue eyes rolling back until only the whites remained.

He fell into a state of despair, his body trembling, his mind utterly overwhelmed.

In a desperate bid to escape the torment, he slammed his head repeatedly against the unforgiving ground, each impact a plea for release from the nightmarish tableau that surrounded him.

His cries of anguish filled the night, a chilling symphony of suffering.

It was a futile attempt to deny the reality before him, a desperate act to reclaim what had been lost.

With the short sword still clutched tightly in his hand, Blur raised it high with both trembling hands, and with a final act of desperation, he drove it through his own skull, ending his torment.

The beast paid no attention to his self-inflicted demise, continuing its gruesome display with a perverse indifference.

With an unsettling grace, it approached Blur's lifeless form, raising the back of its sinister spear into the air before driving it into him.

The spear skewered his lifeless body, as if to ensure that Blur shared in the same cruel fate as Number 102.

And then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the beast dissipated into the air, leaving behind only a haunting silence.

Ding-dong, ding-ding—dong.

The bells of the facility tolled, their mournful sound punctuating the desolation that now hung heavy in the air.

In the aftermath of the grotesque tragedy, a chilling aura of dread enveloped the scene, as if the very darkness itself mourned the horrors it had borne witness to.

EPILOGUE

In the midst of an obscure, frigid space, the gentle patter of bare paws persisted, each step echoing rhythmically through the enveloping darkness.

Within this nightmarish world, a place devoid of any recognizable features, the origin of these footfalls moved with uncanny precision. Navigating the boundless void effortlessly, as if strolling into a familiar bedroom.

Amidst the oppressive silence, a symphony of sensations swirled around the figure.

The sound of dripping water echoed in the distance, the mournful howling of the wind rustling through unseen leaves reverberated softly, and the cool, tactile memory of mud and gravel pressed against the soles of it bare paws lingered.

At last, the figure arrived at the deepest recesses of this abyss.

Suddenly, faint lights materialized and danced around it, while a tepid breeze permeated the darkness.

It's long, pristine white tail and fur fluttered gently in the wind, and the ethereal pinpricks of light circled around as it slowly approached a specific spot within the obscure woods.

"It appears he remembered himself at the last moment," the figure, which could only be described as a cat, murmured in a casual tone as it ventured outside.

In the next instant, a brilliant shaft of light forced it to close her eyes momentarily.

Emerging from the abyss of the woods, the moonlight from artificial ceilings felt like shards of glass piercing it sensitive eyes.

After a few blinks, vision adjusted, and it took in the surreal scene before her.

In the heart of the forest, a young girl was impaled in a grotesque manner, her form defying description.

Nearby, a boy had been fatally struck in the head, a consequence of his own volition.

"Surprisingly, I am unmoved," the cat remarked, its white eyes reflecting the moonlight. As it had predicted, there was no visible surge of emotion in its impassive gaze.

Perhaps it had expected more from witnessing the boy's newfound defiance, but the boy's reaction fell short of its expectations.

Nonetheless, it couldn't help but admire the trick the boy had played, the performance he had executed.

A sense of accomplishment washed over the cat.

"But my only regret is that, throughout all this time, I was unable to see him crushed by the Trial... hmm. I suppose I shall consider this progress," the cat mused.

Had it not been for this development, the vessel—the boy—would never have been capable of withstanding the weight of his concept.

He had been trapped, drowning within the confines of the Trial.

Uncharacteristically, thinking of the boy who had once failed to free her filled the cat's heart with inexplicable emotions.

"Well, I don't really mind. I can't quite fathom the professor's intentions, and I had anticipated that I would need to wander for some time to piece it all together. There's no need to obsess over such matters... for now," the cat decided, setting aside its curiosity.

The cat gracefully moved around the grotesque forms of the two bodies. This outcome was the result of exerting its influence each time.

It surveyed the grim scene before it, the remnants of a tragedy.

"[System] command: link comms—main control room".

Then, its ears perked up, and it connected to a communication device.

"Report index: 512, Subject status: Dead".

It relayed the details of the situation, its voice cool and detached.

When it finished speaking, its gaze shifted to Blur's lifeless eyes.

There was something unusual in those eyes, a subtle movement.

The cat seemed to notice it but chose to disregard it, its attention focused elsewhere.

"…initiate test 513". Another voice came from the link issuing an order from the main control room. Acknowledging the order the cat focused on the boy.

The boy possessed a soul identical in nature to the girl whose body had become a vessel. By implanting a fragment of its own soul—a replica of a god—and gradually taking control, he was being resurrected, though in a form that remained rough around the edges.

It would take time before he fully regained consciousness and acclimated to the vessel, but there was no alternative.

The cat acknowledged the gratitude it felt for the fact that the boy was, at least, wander the world despite having an old soul within a new body.

"[Time] Concept: [Reversal]."

APPRECIATION

Dear Readers, this marks the end of the 1st volume of REIN and the first half of the nightmare arc.

I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you who took the time to read the first volume of my novel.

It's been an incredible journey, and your support has meant the world to me.

I must admit, the road to getting my work out there wasn't always smooth.

Publishing on various sites, I often found myself with no views, no reads, and no comments.

It was disheartening at times, but I kept pushing forward, driven by my passion for storytelling.

Now, having you as my readers, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. Your interest in my work is what keeps me motivated to write.

I would love to hear your thoughts on what you've read so far.

Your comments and feedback are invaluable to me and will help shape the next chapters of this story.

I'm excited to announce that the next volume will be coming soon.

To stay updated, please save the book or follow it for notifications.

Your continued support means everything to me, and I can't wait to share more of this journey with you.

Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this adventure. Your readership is a dream come true.

Warm regards,

[NKJibu2]