There was no more light.
No sky, no ground, no horizon.
Just him… and the voice.
It was no longer neutral.
It now vibrated with a metallic edge, like a blade suspended in the air—
a threat so sharp it sliced through even the silence.
— This is your final warning.
Not a shout.
A guillotine.
— The next time you scream… it will be your end.
Rays froze.
His breath vanished, crushed by an unseen weight.
His heart beat against his ribs like a trapped beast.
He took a step back. Then another.
His hands trembled, as if the darkness might bite them.
— I… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…
A whisper. Then a panicked gasp:
— So… what do I do?
The voice responded, still inhuman, unwavering:
— You choose.
— Choose what…?
— Sacrifice or escape. Growth or the beast.
Rays dropped to his knees.
His hands covered his face, as if his palms could smother the memories.
— I don't want to… not again… I don't want to relive that…
His voice broke.
— That world… where I'm ignored. Where I'm invisible. Where I speak, and no one hears. Where I reach out, and they tear my hand away.
Silence.
— I'm tired of being nothing.
The voice, relentless:
— Whatever you choose, pain will follow. Either you suffer to become… or you refuse to suffer, and make others suffer instead.
A beat.
Something inside him snapped.
He raised his head. Slowly.
And in his eyes, something burned.
Not hope.
Anger.
— You want me to sacrifice… for them?
He gritted his teeth.
His fists clenched.
— For parents who abandoned me? For classmates who humiliated me? For a world that watched me fall… and never reached out?
His voice rose, cracked:
— FOR THEM?
He screamed.
A cry from the gut.
A cry you don't learn to silence.
— Let them all rot! I want their place! Their comfort! Their peace! Their power!
He was shaking.
He wasn't speaking anymore—he was roaring.
Words turned to fangs.
— I've lost everything. Everything. So yeah, I'd rather become a monster. Become the thing they fear. Drink their blood, if that's what it takes to finally exist!
Then suddenly, the fire died.
A single word escaped his lips.
Fragile.
— Rex…
His voice cracked.
Like an echo in a forgotten cave.
— How is he… Rex?
For the first time, the voice felt almost… human.
Not gentle—but less sharp.
It answered with a question:
— And you, Rays… who do you live for?
He fell silent for a moment.
Then, in a low, trembling voice:
— Rex… he waits for me. Every day. In front of the door.
His lips quivered.
— He doesn't understand why I left. He thinks I'm coming back. He… he barely eats. He sleeps against my shoes.
Tears ran down his cheeks.
— He'll die if I don't come back.
He clenched his fists, pressing them into the invisible floor—into the formless void.
— Maybe I'm broken. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe I'm already lost.
But him… he still believes in me.
A breath.
A vow.
— I accept. Not for the world. Not for them.
But for him.
His voice rang out like an oath:
— I'll move to the second stage. For Rex.
And then… something shifted.
The voice softened. Its edge melted.
It now sounded almost… respectful.
— Wish accepted. Preparing second stage of Eternal Regret.
Around him, the void quivered.
Lines of light—pale, flickering—etched themselves into the dark.
Like scars on cosmic skin.
— Welcome to Doubt.
And Rays fell.
Not into an abyss—
but into a memory.
One that did not belong to him.
A heartbeat.
But not his own.
A four-legged heartbeat.
The one that had never stopped waiting for him.
Rex.