Hmmm... Gasp... Gasp... I opened my eyes with difficulty, as if my eyelids were weighed down by centuries of sleep. I looked around weakly. I was still in the burning forest, where ash covered the ground like a gray shroud, but the sight that met me was beyond belief, as if time had stumbled and fallen before me, leaving me staring at my end that preceded my beginning.
In front of me, a few steps away, I was lying peacefully. My severed head, with its dead gray eyes, and my lifeless rocky lower body, like the statue of an ancient god that had shattered. What is happening? And why does the world look... bigger? And brighter?
I looked at my hands. The solid gray rock had disappeared. Replaced by soft, tender, fragile white skin, with delicate blue veins protruding underneath, pulsing with fearful life. And I was completely naked, stripped of all armor. "What is this?" I tried to speak, and my voice came out different; no longer a rumble from the depths of the earth, but a soft human voice, carrying a ring of confusion.
I looked at the severed head on the ground. That is me. The last thing my memory holds is my conversation with Morito, then... Did I die? But how did I return? Is this a birth or a curse? "404? Are you here?" No reply. Absolute silence in the corridors of my mind that used to buzz with data.
I crawled weakly toward Shakujo, my black sword lying on the ground, the only witness to what I was. I extended my soft hand to grab it, and tried to lift it as I used to. It didn't budge. It was heavy. Terrifyingly heavy. It no longer carried that feeling of lightness and fusion, as if it rejected me. It was just a massive mass of cold metal, far bigger and heavier than my current body. I grabbed the handle with both hands, and screamed from the effort, veins in my neck bulging, until I barely managed to drag it slightly, as if I were trying to move a mountain.
I looked at my reflection on the polished blade. I froze. Who is this stranger looking at me from the metallic abyss? A right eye blue as the clear sky, and a left eye violet as the mystery of dusk. Shiny golden hair falling over a beautiful and provocatively angelic face. I didn't feel admiration. I felt abhorrent strangeness. This is not my face. This is a soft, weak mask. Where is the hardness of the stone that protected me? This face carries no history of mine. It is the face of someone who has never known pain, a blank page on which time has written nothing.
I let go of the sword, and it fell with a muffled thud, as if closing a door on the past. "This person... is supposed to be me?" I stood up staggering, my legs trembling from weakness like tender branches. I headed toward my corpse—or the corpse of a stranger who is not me—stripped the magical clothes, put them on, and they shrank to fit my strange body.
I returned to the sword. I tied it with a rope around my waist and shoulder. I couldn't carry it on my back; it would break my fragile spine. I started walking, the sword dragging behind me on the ground. Krrrrr... Krrrrr... The sound of metal scraping rock and ash accompanied me like a heavy shadow, a funeral dirge for my lost strength. Every step was a battle against gravity and against this weak body I did not know.
Suddenly, I felt it. Krrrrr... My stomach spasmed with sharp pain. A painful emptiness squeezing my guts, a small monster waking up inside me demanding sacrifice. Is this... hunger? I never felt hunger like this before. An animal hunger making my vision blurry and my limbs cold, reducing all existence to a single desire: Eating.
The only reassuring thing is that I still feel my "Soul Gate." I can still touch the "Echo of Creation." But my blood... I looked at a simple scratch on my hand. It was bleeding bright red blood. And it doesn't heal. And the pain... the pain was burning and constant. This body does not forget pain like that body. "I must find food."
I started walking, or rather, stumbling, my sword plowing the earth behind me, writing the story of my torment on the dust. After a short while, I fell to my knees, panting violently. My lungs burning as if filled with embers. My feet aching. I remembered the "Soul Echo." Does it still exist? I focused a little. A faint message appeared before my eyes:
I continued walking. The emptiness inside me was increasing, expanding to swallow me. Where did 404 go? Did he die with the old body? Did he leave me alone in this fleshy cage? I looked around. My new eyes are weak, the range is short, the colors bright and hurtful. I have become... limited. Who is this person I inhabit? Is he an empty vessel? Am I still "Dream"? Or am I just an echo of a memory?
I finally exited the forest. There were no golden wheat fields this time. There were burnt and dead fields, ash extending to the horizon. And no star beside me. And no friends. I walked two steps, then felt movement beside me. A familiar specter. I looked, and found him. Hong Min. He was walking beside me, hands in his pockets, looking at me with his usual cynical smile that defied death: "Why are you looking like that? Have you never seen a man walking in your life?" I said hoarsely: "No." And for some reason, I felt the emptiness in my chest lighten a bit.
I reached the village overlooking the river. I collapsed at the bank, buried my face in the water, and drank. The water was cold, sweet, refreshing to the point that I felt it running through every vein like liquid life. I looked at my reflection in the river again. That strange face still staring at me. Beautiful, innocent, and weak. A mask that does not belong to me. "Maybe... this time they won't call me Oni."
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I entered the village. People looked at me, and at the huge sword dragging behind me with an annoying sound. They didn't run. They were looks of wonder and pity for this boy carrying a burden bigger than him. I entered a small tavern. The smell of food made my mouth water painfully, the survival instinct screaming. "Food. Anything." I said to the bartender in an eager voice, the voice of a beggar, not a warrior. The bartender stared at me suspiciously, but brought a plate of rice and meat.
I put the first bite in my mouth. An explosion of flavors. The heat stung my sensitive tongue, and the saltiness awakened my dormant senses. I felt my stomach contract around the food then relax with satisfaction, like barren land receiving rain. I ate voraciously, bite after bite, until I wiped the plate completely.
I was about to leave, when the bartender shouted: "Oi, boy! You forgot to pay!" I froze in place. I remembered an old tavern in Chang'an, and a waiter who said the same words. In another time, and with another body. I don't remember what I said to that waiter, but... I know what I will do now.
I walked toward him until I stood in front of him. I was only slightly taller than him, not the giant who cast a shadow over everyone. I smiled in his face, that innocent and beautiful smile this new face gives me, which contrasts completely with the darkness lurking behind it: "Certainly." I placed my soft hand on his strong chest. I inserted a little, a very little of raw "Creation Echo." His body convulsed, and he began to scream from internal pain, falling to the floor writhing like a worm stepped on by a giant foot. There was no one else but us in this early hour to witness the fall of mercy. I squatted beside him, looked at him with my strange eyes, and said in an innocent and gentle tone hiding a hungry monster still alive under this soft skin: "Do you have a horse?"
Perspective: Kage
I was sitting atop a small rocky hill overlooking our temporary village, wrapped in heavy clothes we made from piled squirrel furs. The fur was rough, tickling my neck, and its wild smell filled my nose, reminding me that we had returned to the age of Dragons, where warmth is the only currency. The cold here in Mount Ryu was a living enemy stalking us. I could see my breath coming out as dense white clouds vanishing into the freezing night air, like small souls leaving our bodies. My limbs were numb, and I could barely bend my fingers.
Some time has passed since the war. They say time heals wounds, but in our case, it only covered them with ice, keeping them fresh and painful. We are here, in an isolated area of the mountain, filled with tree trunks cut by sharp, clean sword strikes. We built simple huts from that wood, cramming ourselves in them seeking warmth, like animals hiding from a storm. At first, we almost died from the cold. But the Foxes, with their fur and nature, adapted somehow. As for me... I relied on hunting. Squirrels were our only prey. Monsters do not approach this area. As if they fear the "memory" of the sword that cut these trees, the ghost of power that still inhabits the place.
We found the rotting corpse of a giant bear, killed in a gruesome way, and a bear cub in a cave behind it with some bones in front of it. I wonder how it survived all the time its mother was dead. But now we will take care of it, perhaps atoning for our sins by caring for another orphan.
I looked to my side. Morito was sitting there, drinking sake as usual, and the bear cub was sleeping in his lap with strange reassurance, drawing warmth from it. I said while rubbing my frozen hands together: "How strange... why does the bear love you so much?" He replied without looking at me, steam coming from his mouth with every word, like a dragon exhaling cold smoke: "How would I know it's a bear? How would I know what it thinks? Do you see me as a bear?" Me and Morito... became friends somehow. I don't know how. Maybe the cold and loneliness force souls to draw closer to form a mosaic of shared pain. I said: "You represent strength and coldness, and you are in reality a gentle dragon. Maybe this gentle dragon fed this bear some food before the foxes came here."
He exhaled with boredom, and I saw a slight tremble in his hand holding the cup from the cold: "Don't make me regret helping you twice." I laughed, and my laughter came out as a white cloud: "The second time you helped me because you are kind, don't deny it." Then I fell silent, and looked at his profile seriously, trying to read the lines carved by time and sorrow: "But... why did you help me the first time? And why did you leave Dream alive at that time?"
His hand stopped in the air. "Maybe because I'm kind?" He said sarcastically and tried to drink. I grabbed his frozen hand, preventing him from escaping to the bottom of the cup: "I want to know the truth. Please. Dream and I are from outside, and I know you kill every intruder. You knew we came to harm. I want to understand."
He remained silent for a long time. He put the sake bottle aside on the snow, and looked at the stars with his tired red eyes, as if searching for an answer written in the sky. "Kage... do you know why I come here every day?" He turned to me, and I saw in his eyes the reflection of years of loneliness and ice that never melted. "You remind me of an old friend. And I... need to remember her, even a little. Even if I forget her facial features, I don't want to forget the feeling of her presence." He lowered his voice until it almost got lost with the wind, like a last confession: "I must not forget... for this is my sin." Then he sighed deeply, a sigh that shook his chest and released a large cloud of steam: "As for Dream... I apologize for that. I just felt... he could give me the end I want."
I slapped him. My hand was frozen, and his face cold as rock, but the sound of the slap was loud and hot, breaking the stillness of the mountain. Morito looked at me in shock, his hand slowly rising to touch his cheek. I screamed in his face, hot tears gathering in my eyes and stinging my cold face: "You fool! Never think like that! Even if no one is left for you, even if you dug the graves of the whole world with your hand, never think of giving up your life!"
I grabbed his collar and shook him with all my strength, trying to awaken life in him: "Your life is not yours to give up! Look around you! Those who will come in the future, and those who exist now... all the people of Nippon look up to you with pride! Children want to become like you, like the Guardian of Nippon who protects them!" "They know that when the time comes, you will be by their side. They know that no matter how difficult the situation, Morito is there. So don't say no one is left for you! They are still here! Nippon still beats!"
I looked directly into his eyes, and said with strength and an oath defying the frost of the mountain and the despair inhabiting his heart: "And I... I will repay your kindness. I will repay your longing. I will stay alive for you, and for them. So... do not die."