Reiboku crashed into the den.

  The wyvern tore itself against the surrounding rubble with a deafening impact, sending a storm of debris into the air.

  In total darkness, a familiar smell hit the survivors’ nostrils.

  Strong. Sticky. Visceral.

  It seemed to hang in the air, seeping along the walls like invisible blood.

  They couldn’t see anything. Not even a few inches ahead.

  Yūshin tried to whisper to Reiboku.

  No answer.

  The creature, in an almost methodical act, had sealed the entrance of the den.

  Only a thin sliver of light filtered through the debris.

  Like a provocation.

  A living trap.

  Reiboku, hidden in the shadows, didn’t move.

  His silhouette blended into the darkness.

  Yūshin narrowed his eyes, straining to listen…

  But the gloom swallowed everything. No sound. No breath. Just that heavy silence starting to feel like a sentence.

  The impact had been so violent… he hadn’t seen anything.

  He had simply been thrown, like a defenseless puppet, ripped from the ground by monstrous force.

  So he insisted, his voice more worried than he wanted to show.

  “Reiboku… can you hear me? Anything broken?”

  A chunk of earth suddenly broke loose above the den, letting a sharp ray of light spill inside.

  It fell straight onto Reiboku’s face.

  Yūshin felt his heart freeze.

  His companion’s eyes were closed.

  His body, motionless.

  No reaction.

  A cold shiver ran down his spine.

  “Reiboku…?”

  Silence.

  Thick. Suspended in time.

  He stepped closer, moving carefully, as if the slightest sound could shatter the fragile balance… or push them over the edge.

  And then he understood.

  This silence wasn’t rest.

  It was absence.

  Blood was flowing from his shoulder, running like a leaking soul, slowly draining the broken shell he inhabited.

  No… not this. Not again. Not him. Not now.

  Yūshin’s hand trembled.

  In this pit that felt more like a grave than a shelter…

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  His glasses, fogged by heat, fear, or the stale air, made him stagger.

  He slapped himself twice. Hard.

  Trying to regain control.

  I have to help him…

  He has to live. He doesn’t get to die now. We didn’t go through all this just to rot like rats underground.

  He rushed to him — and what he saw stole his breath.

  Reiboku’s left arm was gone.

  Torn off.

  Blood… everywhere.

  A continuous crimson jet. Impossible to stop.

  The metallic, sticky smell filled the air.

  Yūshin felt his insides twist.

  A moment of hesitation, mixed with despair, froze him in place.

  His breathing shortened. He staggered.

  But he forced himself to inhale.

  Once. Twice.

  And dragged himself back into control.

  “We have to cauterize the wound. Now.”

  He tore a strip from his robe and pressed it against the bloody stump, trying to slow the hemorrhage.

  “Hold on… hold on…”

  “I hope this works… otherwise… I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “You’re not dying here. Not like a dog. Anything but that.”

  His movements were frantic — but precise.

  He grabbed the string of his bow, wrapped it tightly around the arm, and pulled with all his strength — an improvised tourniquet. Brutal. Necessary.

  “Stay with me, Reiboku… stay with me…”

  Time stretched.

  There was nothing left to do but wait.

  Wait for the bleeding to slow.

  Otherwise…

  Otherwise, he would die.

  Yūshin pressed his ear against Reiboku’s chest.

  He searched for that sound. That sign of life.

  And he heard it.

  Weak. Fragile.

  But there.

  Reiboku’s stubborn heart was still beating.

  He was alive.

  “Fuck… thank you.”

  Now…

  He just had to open his eyes.

  Time began to warp.

  It passed like a comet…

  And like a drugged snail at the same time.

  1 hour…

  2 hours…

  3 hours…

  6 hours…

  10 hours…

  1 day…

  4 days…

  Yūshin never left him.

  He watched. He waited for the slightest sign.

  Sometimes he changed the bandage. Sometimes he spoke. Sometimes… he just stayed there, listening to that heart that refused to stop.

  But nothing changed.

  Yūshin grabbed Reiboku’s wrist and squeezed, hoping for a reaction.

  “You reached out to me when I wanted to stay hidden. I stepped out… to exist.”

  “Even if we took risks… it was worth it.”

  Yūshin’s expression softened for a moment.

  “But… this time… it’s different.”

  He lowered his head.

  He stayed there, unmoving, even though he could have left.

  He took a breath. Short. Painful.

  In a sudden burst of rage, he slammed the basket on the ground in front of him.

  Everything spilled across the floor.

  “Damn it, Reiboku… open your eyes… I’m begging you.”

  His hands trembled.

  “I’m not strong enough to keep going alone. So… don’t take your time.”

  Every time he returned to the den, he hoped to see him rise.

  But as the days passed…

  Resignation settled in.

  After a week and three days of doubt, fear, and exhaustion, Yūshin had no hope left.

  A thought crashed over him.

  If it comes back… we’re dead.

  And I’m not staying buried here waiting for it.

  Reiboku lay there, motionless.

  Cold. Silent.

  Nothing but a body.

  Yūshin stared at him.

  “I’m going to have to live alone… again,” he whispered.

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  He knelt beside him.

  “I’m sorry, Reiboku.”

  “I did everything I could.”

  Silence settled in, thick, suffocating.

  Then he placed a hand on his companion’s chest.

  “If you wake up…”

  “Tell yourself I held on. Until the end.”

  “I didn’t run.”

  “So now it’s your turn to fight.”

  His fingers trembled slightly.

  “I did my best,” Yūshin said, his voice shaking.

  His throat tightened.

  “Thank you… for forcing me out.”

  “Without you… I’d still be hiding. Or dead.”

  A tear fell onto Reiboku’s cold cheek.

  “If you’re still sleeping… then I’ll live long enough to see you again.”

  He stood, staring at Reiboku’s missing arm.

  Yūshin inhaled, painfully.

  Don’t lose hope… live.

  To understand this world.

  He slowly straightened.

  His gaze turned toward the half-opened hatch.

  Daylight reflected on his face.

  He tightened his grip on his bow.

  Reluctantly. But it had to be done.

  In this world, you don’t run from death.

  You stare at it…

  Until it looks away.

  Yūshin looked at Reiboku one last time.

  He tried to put his glasses back on.

  His fingers trembled.

  He gave up.

  He swallowed hard.

  He picked up his basket.

  Strapped it onto his back.

  Lowered his head.

  Then he stepped out, into the light.