Raen sat against the crumbling wall, his back slouched, head bowed like it didn't know how to carry itself anymore. The tunnel was quiet now, too quiet, and somehow that silence didn't bring peace—it felt like a waiting thing, like the shadows were listening.
He hadn't moved in hours, or maybe it had just felt that long. Time didn't seem to exist here, not properly, not after everything. His eyes were dry and bloodshot, not because he hadn't blinked, but because he had seen too much, and somehow still hadn't looked away.
Selene's body hadn't moved either.
He didn't cry. That part was strange. It wasn't grief the way people wrote about it, not loud or messy or howling at the void. It was more like something had been pinched out of him—small, sharp, invisible. Just an emptiness that pressed around his ribs and didn't let go.
Maybe it's because I failed again.
That thought drifted in without invitation, and it didn't leave.
He didn't really like her. He told himself that, again and again, like a mantra. She was arrogant, selfish, manipulative—he'd called her worse, even meant most of it. But there'd been something in her too, something just a little human beneath all that, something that survived long enough to fight beside him.
And now—
She was gone, and the worst part wasn't the violence or the blood or the way her face had changed at the end. It was that he hadn't done anything. He had crawled, begged, bit, and still—nothing.
His hands were dirty, covered in dust and old blood, but he didn't wipe them clean. He just stared at them like maybe they'd never been his in the first place.
The system was quiet too, for once. No pings, no directives. Just the cold blue glow still hovering faintly against the tunnel wall. As if even it didn't know what to say.
And Raen, left in that dim light, didn't speak. Didn't move. Not yet.
Not when everything still smelled like fear and iron and the sharp echo of things that shouldn't laugh.
As much as Raen was broken—down to bone and breath and whatever will he had left—he knew one thing for certain: he couldn't leave her like this.
He sat there for what might've been minutes or hours, his legs stiff, his wounds pulsing with dull memory. The pain was constant now, like a second heartbeat. His fingers twitched with numbness, not quite ready to carry the weight they were about to.
But he stood up anyway.
It wasn't graceful. His knees buckled slightly, his shoulder screamed in protest, and something sharp dug into his ribs when he leaned forward—but he stood. Because leaving Selene there, twisted in the dirt, in this godforsaken tunnel riddled with rot and quiet monsters, would have been too cruel. Even for someone like her.
She probably had a dream, didn't she? Maybe a petty one, or selfish, or foolish—but it was hers. Something to hold on to in this collapsing world. Just like me, he thought. Survival. Maybe that's all we ever really wanted.
He limped to her body and knelt. Her head lay where it had landed earlier, eyes half-shut, face empty of the fire it once held. He didn't look too long. It wasn't the face he remembered, not really. What haunted him wasn't the look of death—but the silence it left behind.
He reached out, gently, and took her head in his hands. It felt wrong. Cold, too light. But he held it anyway, cradling it like a broken thing that once held meaning.
With effort, and pain threading every step, he dragged her body to the far side of the tunnel. There, piles of discarded wood and vine made some sort of shelter—probably the remains of a dead scavenger's camp or a failed hideout. The ground was thick with dust and dried roots, brittle and dry.
It would burn.
"System," Raen rasped, his voice nearly lost to the tunnel's damp air, "how do I make fire in here?"
A flicker of light pulsed against his vision.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE]
> Command Registered:
Request: Fire Creation in Restricted Conditions
Available Methods:
• [Friction Spark - Estimated Success: 32%]
• [Heatstone Use - Unavailable]
• [Sol Spark Conversion – 1 Crystal Required]
Recommend: Friction Spark – nearest viable materials suitable for ignition located nearby.
He sighed, kneeling beside the dry wood. His fingers ached. His mind screamed for rest. But he worked, rubbing wood against stone, grinding splinters into splinters, until finally—finally—smoke kissed the edge of the stack, and flame flickered into life.
It spread slow.
He laid her body atop the makeshift pyre, limbs folded, head placed last, carefully. No prayers. No goodbyes. Just a silence filled with smoke and memory.
The fire caught her hair first. Then her shoulder. Then the rest. Her silhouette turned to shadow, then nothing more than shape.
Raen stood there and watched until he couldn't anymore.
The fire had taken hold now. It crackled low, embers whispering against the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced like memories unwilling to die.
Raen didn't move much. His legs had buckled shortly after he stood—so he sat, not far from the edge of the pyre, letting the warmth sting his skin. It was the first real warmth he'd felt in what felt like days.
And then… he saw her.
Through the flame's twisting veil, beyond the ash and smoke, something shimmered.
Light—not the cruel blaze of Sol Crystals, not the harsh glare of divine wagers—but a soft, flickering glow, like moonlight caught in water. It shaped into something familiar.
Selene.
She stood just past the fire's reach, translucent and weightless, as if she wasn't quite real, but not gone either. She raised her hand—no words, no final curse, no accusations for failing to save her.
Just a small, tired wave. The same way someone might wave goodbye when they know there's no coming back.
Raen didn't speak. He didn't even breathe. This… can't be right.
She lingered a moment longer, then drifted upward, pulled by something unseen, and vanished in silence.
And then the system came to life.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
> A Contender Has Fallen.
Name: Selene Varn
Cause of Death: Severe Trauma/Entity of Ashen Wager
Processing Sol Crystal Redistribution...
Raen let out a breath that hurt his chest. He stared at the orange light of the fire, watching it consume what little remained of her. Even the bones were starting to crumble.
She's gone. It's official now.
He could barely react. What could he say to that? He had screamed all his anger earlier, bled out every drop of defiance and grief he could muster, and now—there was only quiet. Cold, even with the flames in front of him.
Raen dragged himself closer, arms trembling, and sat near the fire. Not too close. Just enough to feel its warmth on his skin, to remind himself he was still here.
He rested his head against the wall, legs stretched toward the heat, and closed his eyes—not to sleep, not fully, just to pause. Just for a while.
Let me rest. Just this once.