He's here again. In the place he dreads the most. He feels himself shaking, but he is unable to move. Surrounding him is darkness. Thick, smothering, shadowy, pitch darkness—the antithesis of light. But the blackened void isn't what frightens him. Quite the opposite.

Where was it…? Where was it…?

It knew he was here. He knew that it knew.

"Move—! Flee—!"

Every nerve, every impulse, every bit of his instinct cried out to him. But where would he run to? This place was of his own making. There was nothing he could do but wait, petrified and frightful. Staying awake was the only plan he had. But, well, so much for that.

He had no choice. He had to save her. If he didn't he would cease being who he was. Who… he was… who he… who…?

Finally, unable to contain all his anguish, he screamed out to the darkness, tears spilling from his eyes.

"WHO AM I?! WHY?! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?! WHY HERE?! WHY NOW?!"

His throat grew coarse with each word. His breathing erratically alternated between shallow and hyperventilation. He clutched his head, digging his nails into his skull. Exhausted and having nothing more to say, he pathetically fell to his knees and continued to wait.

A few moments later, a voice called out from the darkness behind him, answering his cries.

"Because, you left me…"

Bell did not turn. His sniffling seized as he seemingly lost the ability to breathe. He felt it. Its gaze burrowing into his back—no, his soul. He dare not bring himself to turn and meet it face to face.

Stip-step. Stip-step.

Slowly, dreadfully, it began walking towards him. Its steps echoed throughout the darkness.

Stip-step. Stip-step.

"Look at me."

Bell didn't move. Its words met his ears only for them to become scrambled in his brain. Only static and flashes and buzzes.

Stip-step. Stip-step.

"I said, look at me."

Nothing. A peep didn't escape his lips. His shoulders didn't tense and flinch. A shiver didn't run down his spine.

"Even now, you want to ignore me, avoid me?"

Now within arms reach of the boy, the flames outstretched its hands towards him. They grasped firmly onto his shoulders. Still, no reaction from the boy. Its hands did not burn him, but they were still hot to the touch.

The fire continued to hold onto Bell. Only the sounds of its heat faintly cracking and snapping could be heard. Bell had become all but limp and lifeless as if he were little more than a puppet being cut from his strings. There seemed to be nothing left of him but a hollow husk resembling a human.

"What did I do…" the flames finally whispered.

The words finally manage to reach him. But it still does not surmount to anything. He doesn't know. He knows nothing. No, he knows there's something. Bits and pieces, snippets and shots. But they are like broken puzzle pieces that refuse to snap into place and form a clear and coherent image.

"Tell me… what did I do—?!"

The flames sharply tighten its grip on Bell's shoulder. He can feel its fingertips burrowing into his tendons, but he still gives no indication of a reaction. Suddenly, Bell feels himself being spun around. Finally, he is met face to face with the fire and the heat.

Atop its head flickers and flares almost as if they are strained and forcefully stifled. Its body shivers with both excitement and anguish. The one that had left him so long ago is finally within its grasp.

The fire was only but a silhouette that had a physique akin to the boy. There were no defining details of its own. It didn't have a face. But even still, Bell could feel its fiery gaze persisting, piercing through him. But he did nothing about it. He only returned the flames' gaze with hollow, deadened eyes. He was just so exhausted, confused, and conflicted.

They continued to stare at one another before the flames slowly began to lean its weight forward onto Bell.

Tip, tip, tip, tip, slip—

They both spiraled downward for a brief moment before Bell's back hit the ground, causing his neck to whiplash. The fire stayed firmly planted on him, shifting its body weight onto his chest. Now, he was truly pinned. He couldn't get up. Not that he could before regardless.

The flames loosened its grip on the boy's shoulders. Its finger began trailing up his collarbone towards its new intended target. Slowly but surely, Bell found it getting harder to breathe. His throat hurts. A newfound trembling pressure has been placed upon it.

"Fine then… If you don't want to tell me, I'll just squeeze the words out of you."

How strange. It's twice now that he's found himself in this position. Before, he was scared, terrified. Now… now, there's just nothing.

His eyelids grow heavy as the light of the flames begin to haze and dim in his vision. Despite the firm, flaming hands upon his throat, he felt eerily cold. His lungs twist and contort and expand, trying everything in their power to supply his body with enough oxygen. But it's not enough. He can't hold on much longer. He feels himself slipping further and further into that unknown place.

Slip, slip, slip, slip, sli—

Then, he feels it. Something cold splashing on his face. It was small, brief, but unmistakable. Bell pried his eyes open as wide as he could muster. He was expending the last bits of energy he had left, but he didn't care. He had to know what it was.

There, but a few inches from his face was the face of the flames. It was crying.

Bell brings his hands up and gently cups the fire's cheek. There was no thought behind his action. It was instinctive and natural to do so. As he touches the flames, his vision flashes a bright white. In his mind, the fractured and fragmented memories become whole.

He is being taken back to the garden—the first paradise.

Eden.

.

.

.

What have I done… what have I done—?!

You did what you were meant to do.

No, stop it! Shut up! I—I killed them all. The men, the women, and the children! Some of them weren't even guilty!

They're all guilty. They're humankind, after all.

I—I need to leave... I need to get out of here…

And where shall you go?

…anywhere but here.

You can't run forever.

…I can try.

He is here again. Back to the dream, the memory—the cardinal sin.

Bell looks up to see blackened, angry clouds swirling, covering over the entirety of the sky in a blanket of darkness. They swell before writhing, pouring out a flood of rain droplets upon the earth. It is as if they themselves are weeping in anguish and mourning.

There is a thick scent of smoke that permeates the air. But it wasn't what was causing his stomach to churn. There were just so many bodies surrounding him. If they were stacked atop one another, they would surely create a mountain of corpses that would stack higher than the clouds above. Some were big. Some were small. Some were huddled together. While others were left on their lonesome. But they all had the same quality of singed and cremated flesh.

This place was the epitome of hell. But he wouldn't dare look away from it. Instead, he began to slowly walk forward. Deeper and deeper he went into the garden. He would find it. He was so certain he would. He could bear the pain and anguish he felt in the very depths of his soul at the carnage around him. He could if it meant he would find the answer he so desperately sought.

So, it's come to this.

…there is nothing else but this.

You still only choose to prolong the inevitable.

Maybe time will let me be forgiven.

Do you want to be forgiven or forgotten?

Either one will do.

You've thought this through, yes?

Yes. Yes I have.

And what if it resents you and all of this comes back to haunt you?

Then by that point, I'll have more than deserved it. For now, I'm just tired. Just so, so tired.

He opens his hand. Bits of ash begin swirling around his fingers. Then, he flexes his fingers and cinders burst from his hand. In the palm of his hand is a greatsword.

It is broken in three different places, but it was all still held firmly together in place mysteriously by the flames that seemed to emanate along the blade's edges. He sighed as he flicked his wrist, twirling the sword around. It was a nice gift. The first he was ever given. A shame he would be shortly using it in such a shameful manner. A pitiful half-chuckle escaped his lips. Something else to apologize for.

Giving one last whirl, he reversed his grip, positioning the tip of the blade towards his chest. Was he a coward? Yes. Did he care? No. Was his selfishness for the best? Time would only tell.

Taking one final breath, he stabs the blade into his chest. Instead of blood, sapphire flames and embers immediately burst from his chest. They splurge and spew out as if it were a liquid. He clenches his teeth, suppressing any cries or screams he may have had. It hurts. He can't even begin to describe how much it hurts. There is nothing that he can compare the pain to. But it's not enough.

Using the last of his rapidly depleting strength, he tightens his hold on the hilt and plunges it further into himself. Good, that should more than suffice.

He staggers a few steps forward, before tipping backwards, letting gravity take a hold of his body. He falls to the ground, only the thud of his body weight echoing out. Only pathetic wisps of air escape his lungs as he lays there waiting for the end.

For the first time in his existence, he feels cold. Without thinking, he reaches out, up towards the heavens. Cold—it feels so, so cold. He wants to be held. For someone to give him warmth. But there is no one.

The flames in both his chest and sword snuff themselves out as the light disappears from his eyes. The sword dissolves into dust and dissipates into the air. There is nothing that holds its existence together.

For a few moments, all is quiet. The sky does not swell and swirl and sob for him. Not like it did for those in the garden. Not that it matters. The tears mean nothing now.

A second passes. Then two, three, and four. Twenty seconds pass and still nothing. Then, on the twenty-first, it appears. A single flame which kindles itself in the center of his now vacant chest. It flickers back and forth as it begins to rise. A breeze sweeps it up and out the chest cavity it was birthed from. It skitters along the ground, hovering just above it.

Then, it begins to grow. Not only in size and heat. It grew a head, a body, and limbs. It begins crawling on all fours before slowly readjusting to walk on its feet. This is all so new to it. And it is moving far too hastily.

"—!"

The flames only take a few steps before it inevitably stumbles and falls to its knees. It lays on its back and stares blankly at the darkened sky. It takes a moment to simply stop and stare. After a few moments, it brings its hands up in front of itself. For the first time, it takes a look at itself.

Why was it here? What was its purpose?

Then it turns back to where it had come from and sees it. The corpse it had been birthed from.

Shocked and appalled at the grim sight, the fire instinctively reaches out towards it. Strange and new emotions become set alight within its very being. Distress, anguish, despair—they all take hold of its body.

Overwhelmed and succumbing to these newfound emotions, the fire moves, crawling over to the corpse . But it doesn't realize. Not until it is laying upon the corpse's torso. The fire places its head on the vacant chest and begins to weep.

"...why…?" it whispers through its tears. "Why did you leave me alone… I—I'm scared… come back… please…"

Bell watches the entirety of the scene unfold right before his eyes. He looks down at his hands as if they are soaked in blood. Filled with a swelling sense of shame, he covers his eyes and begins to cry alongside the flames. But it does not take notice of him as he is not there. Not truly. This is just a dream, just a memory.

Wiping away the tears staining his cheeks, Bell looks up at the sky and raises his hands up, surrendering himself. So this was it. This was where it began. This was where he fled like a coward and selfishly left his burden for another to bear. He understands. At least, just a little more.

.

.

.

Bell gently caresses the tear stained cheeks of the fire. He gives it what it hasn't had in eons. True warmth and comfort. Slowly, the flames loosen its grip on Bell, allowing him to speak.

"I'm sorry," he utters. "I'm sorry I left you. You didn't deserve it. All those years left alone to carry the weight of my sins… I'm sorry."

"Why did you do it…?"

"Because I'm selfish. Because I'm a coward. I thought that maybe if enough time were to pass, it would all just blow over. That everyone would forget."

He clenched his fists.

"But not you. You could never forget. How could you? I made it so you wouldn't…"

The flames lowered its gaze.

"I'm sorry. I never considered your feelings. I only wanted to get away from it all. From them… from you… I—I'm sorry…"

With nothing more to say, he lays there limp and lifeless once again.

The flame gives no reaction. Only the embers atop its head flicking about give any indication of movement. Bell frankly didn't care for the fire's response. It didn't matter. He said what he needed to say. And that was all.

"I—I…"

The flames tripped over its words. It was like that time again. It feels things it never knew it could. It has only ever known distress, anguish, despair, and scorn. Now, its not sure what emotions it feels. It open its mouth to speak. But before it utters out a single syllable, a bright light flashes over them, engulfing the two. The fire feels the boy slip out of its grasp as he is taken back to the waking world.

Well done. You finally said it.

.

.

.

Bell gasps awake. But as he does so, he immediately feels blood begin to clog his windpipe. Adrenaline takes hold as he hurls himself forward, hacking out the liquid so as to avoid drowning himself to death. Even with the blood cleared from his respiratory system, his breathing is still rent and ragged. He needs to consciously take shallow breaths to maintain some semblance of breathing.

Bell stands up, brushing off the pebbles and dust that had nested itself on the rags and hunks of metal that was the remains of his shirt and armor. How lucky. He wasn't crushed by any loose or stray boulders.

He scanned around himself. Rocks and rubble littered the ground around him. For a moment, he doesn't quite remember what had happened. He just remembers running as fast as he could, throwing an inferno stone up into the air, and clutching her head into his chest—

Ryu!

In a frenzied panic, Bell fell to his knees and began grasping at the ruins with his barren fingertips. His nails were all but chipped or gone completely, making the nail bed beneath flare and bleed. But he didn't care. All that mattered was her.

Finally, he spotted a lock of dirtied blonde hair amongst the rubble. He pounced at it, digging and clawing until finally a face emerged. Ryu…

He carefully scooped her out and began gently flipping and turning her about in his arms, examining for any grievous wounds she may have suffered. Thankfully there were none. He seemed to have taken the brunt of the explosion for her.

For the first time since he had awoken, he looked down at himself. His body had been peppered with holes, his torso especially. He could feel the blood soaking and congealing to the skin on his backside, and he could see the morbid sight of fresh streams of red fluid seeping out from his chest as he stared downward. Each drop splash to the ground felt like a piece of his very life was slipping from his grasp.

But he didn't have the luxury of time to tend to himself. (Not that he could regardless). The dungeon floor hadn't finished repairing itself, meaning he had the perfect window of time to gain as much distance away from the Colosseum as possible.

As he bent down to pick Ryu up, he saw how her eyelids scrunched and twitched slightly. Her neck tussled with itself back and forth in an attempt to find comfort in a different position. And then, her lips weakly uttered a name, her subconscious unable to suppress her intrusive and internal thoughts.

"Alise…"

Bell paused and waited a few moments. He knew immediately what she was experiencing. The way her body squirmed and writhed, and the way her voice carried a sort of longing and sorrow-filled tone in it—she was having a nightmare again.

He silently debated whether or not it would be better to wake her or not. If he did, she would be freed from her nightmare. However, she wasn't in any condition to move. Not that he was faring any better. Frankly, his injuries were far worse than hers. But he could care less about himself. He was a hypocrite and a hero.

He picked her up and placed her on his back, silently apologizing for placing her on such a bloody mess. Situating her as comfortable to him as possible, he began trudging forward.

Did he know where he was going? Away from the Colosseum. And that was all that mattered to him.

Ryu slowly roused herself back awake. The nightmare was over. The memories of her past sorrows and sins had reached their conclusion. When her vision became unclouded; and her mind began sharpening once again, she found herself confused. She was moving and yet, she had been unconscious.

What…?

But as soon as a lock of white passed her peripherals, she knew exactly what had happened.

She had been placed on Bell's back. She pulled herself away from it slightly, feeling how his blood still tried to cling to her. Some of it did, soaking into her shirt and staining a crimson puddle pattern on it.

He… shielded her. From the blast he produced earlier. She grit her teeth at how maimed and mangled he had become. All for her sake.

"Enough! Put me down at once—!" she screamed.

She could practically feel how his life was slowly ebbing away at the seams.

"...I don't want to…" he muttered. "I won't let you die."

"You will die yourself!"

He said nothing.

"Please stop—!"

But he didn't listen. He still kept moving.

"...Mr. Cranel."

"I… let my friends die before my eyes…" she choked out. "It's like Jura said… to save my precious self, I… I killed my friend Alise with these two hands…"

Still, he said nothing.

"I'm not the pure elf you think I am… I'm a criminal, soiled beyond belief."

That was all that she was, all that she had become.

"The elf you are trying to save… is not worth saving…"

She thought of her comrades. She thought of her goddess. The faces they would have upon looking at her. The disappointment. The disgust. Their wills and dreams and ideals—all were tossed aside for petty revenge.

"I have no right to speak of justice… justice is lost for me…"

She was practically choking on her words by this point.

"For me… justice no longer exists…"

There it was. That was her confession. The thing she had spent so long bottling up and burying it within herself.

"The things I've done… the people I've killed—"

Bell stopped and looked slightly upward before murmuring a single word.

"And?"

Everything seemed to stop. Ryu could only stare at him with her mouth hung slightly ajar.

"Wha—"

But before Ryu could ask what it was he meant, a Barbarian monster burst out of the rubble it had been buried under, unintentionally ambushing the pair.

"—!"

Bell barely had enough time to throw Ryu to the side before the Barbarian charged him and bashed his body with its own. The horns atop its head dug into Bell's ribs, cracking and folding them, causing him to hurl out blood (however much still somehow remained in his body). The charge sent him flying through the air briefly before crashing down, his body tumbling along the ground like a broken rag doll.

"Cranel-san!" Ryu cried out.

Damn her broken leg! Bell had thrown her far out of harm's reach. Far enough that she wouldn't be able to reach him. All she could do was call out his name and reach out towards him.

"Cranel-san!"

Nothing. He continued to lay on the ground, practically all but lifeless. He wasn't even breathing anymore.

But the Barbarian couldn't care less. The boy was still alive. It could feel his life still present, no matter how faint it may have been. Its sadistic nature truly manifested itself as it slowly began approaching the boy, completely ignoring the cries of the elven girl not too far away. No matter. It would deal with her in due time. And the boy was closer anyway.

"Cranel-san! Cranel-san!"

Ryu cried over and over again, but to no avail.

No—! Please… please no… not him… let it be her, not him—!

The Barbarian bent down and grabbed the boy by his head.

"Cranel-san! Cranel—BELL!"

Gone was the mask that was Gale Wind. All that remained was a girl who was frightened at the sheer thought of losing someone else she held so dear.

He was dangling by his head. The Barbarian held him high as if he were a prized trophy. Ryu could only stare in utter horror and despair. Tears were spilling out from the corners of her eyes as she silently begged and pleaded to fate that it would spare the boy.

But still nothing. There he hung, practically tittering between life and death. He is fully within the monster's grasp. However, there is nothing he can do. He's all but spent. He barely even has enough strength to comprehend that his end is drawing near.

But as he dangles in that thin veil, a voice whispers to him in his mind.

Ignite.

What…?

The word 'ignite'. Say it.

I—I can't. I don't have enough energy…

Fine… I'll say it. For the both of us.

Bell's mouth hangs ajar and his lips move on their own. Then, he speaks in a voice that does not belong to him.

"Ignite."

In an instant, the boy's body bursts into sapphire flames. Before the Barbarian could react, the flames spread to its body. In a panic, it tries throwing the boy aside but it finds the boy gripping onto its arm with newfound strength. Its cries are visceral and bloodcurdling. But it isn't long before the cries cease and the monster is reduced to nothing but darkened charcoal and ash.

Slowly, the flames begin to dissipate and douse themselves. Wisps of smoke emit from Bell's skin, but he appears to not have been burned by the fire. Patting himself, he can feel that the holes spattering his body had been clogged, stopping any more blood from flowing out. He looks to see rough patches of ash clinging to his flesh. A temporary solution, if anything. While it had stopped the bleed, the fact of the matter was that he still was riddled with holes. But for now, it would more than suffice.

He turned, looking at the elf girl who had desperately called out his name. He smiled a weary smile as he slowly staggered towards her. She could only stare at him in awe as he approached. Leaning over, he offered her his hand. But instead of taking it and pulling herself back onto her feet, Ryu shakily grasped it and ran her fingers along his hand before gently squeezing his forearm. Bell didn't pull away or say a word. With nothing seemingly wrong with her inspection, she looked up at him. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't explain what had happened. At least, not fully or comprehensible.

Ryu let go of his hand and leaned her head on his chest. She hadn't the slightest clue what had happened or what was happening to Bell, but there was one thing she was certain of. He was alive. She could hear that he was.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The sound of his heartbeat let her know that he was still alive and by her side. And that was all she needed to know.

.

.

.

Well, this was awkward. Why was it in this adventure in particular that he'd be put in these sort of situations? He'd bet his grandfather would be heartily laughing at him proudly.

Sitting nestled in his lap, her back pressed close to his chest, sat Ryu. Normally, they wouldn't be so hyper aware of one another's company. But the fact of the matter was that they were both naked.

Carrying Ryu on his back once again, Bell trudged onward. Ryu didn't recognize where they had wound up after the explosion earlier. She didn't even know that a space even existed underneath the Colosseum. But it would be foolish to stop and try to figure out their exact location. That left moving forward as the only option they had.

Eventually, the pair managed to stumble across an area that did not seem to be particularly hostile. In fact, it felt welcoming and hospitable. A small river flowed in the center of the space, its waters calm and tranquil.

"A safe zone…?" Bell muttered.

Neither had ever heard of its existence. Then again, for all the maps and sketches made depicting the labyrinth-like structure of the dungeon, still so little was known about it. But both were certainly not complaining. Maybe their luck had finally turned up, if only just slightly.

Bell managed to reach the edge of the water line before his knees gave out, sending him diving face first in the water.

"—!"

Ryu quickly unhooked herself off his backside so as to not drown him with her own body weight. She immediately pulled his head out of the water. He was so weak he couldn't even cough up the water that had gone down his trachea. Ryu slammed her fist against his chest, forcing the water out herself.

Cough—hack—sputter!

There, that ought to be all of it. Gently cradling his head, Ryu looked closely at the boy. There seemed to be more strands of jet black hair atop his head than before. He still had his typical white locks, but it only took up roughly seventy percent of his head now.

"Bell…"

And that's what inevitably led them to their current predicament. Due to that slight mishap, both their bodies and clothes got soaked, dropping their internal body temperatures to dangerous levels. Despite their increased tolerance and resilience due to their divine blessings, they could still very well perish if nothing were to be done.

When Bell came to, he had just enough energy to cast his firebolt magic into a small pit they had made, making a cozy fireplace. However, it still wasn't enough. And so, they shed their clothes and embraced one another, sharing their body heat. (The sheer embarrassment of the whole situation may have caused their body temperatures to rise a few degrees).

Surprisingly, they did so under Ryu's instruction. Before Bell could argue with her, Ryu declared that given the circumstances, she would even be willing to embrace a dwarf, rivalry pride be damned. At that, he shut himself up and huddled close to her.

There were only a few words exchanged between the two after the distance between the two closed and their skins made contact with one another. After a short while, Ryu finally spoke.

"What did you mean back there?"

"Hmm?"

"When you were carrying me. Before the barbarian appeared. You said 'and'."

"Oh… that…"

Bell glanced slightly to the side. He knew he would have this conversation eventually. It was inevitable. Even so, he wished he had a bit more time to sort his thoughts into proper words.

"Ryu-san," he whispered softly. "What I'm about to tell you may not make sense. Even I don't fully understand it."

He paused.

"But I would like at least one person to hear what it is I have to say."

At long last, his confession.

"I'm not human."

"—!"

"Or, at least, a part of me isn't…"

Ryu stifled her shock as best he could. But Bell could feel her body tense up as it pressed against him.

"And though I don't know much. I know that part of me did something terrible… he killed…"

Bell felt her body loosen at his revelation. The weight of the sin of murder. It hung on both of their souls, threatening them to drag them to the depths. He understood her. In this moment, he understood her far better than anyone else could have.

"But I didn't just kill those who were guilty. I killed those who were innocent as well. Men, women, children, it didn't matter."

Bell could feel her body trembling slightly. But she didn't say a thing.

He continued.

"And then… and then I ran."

He lowered his head, resting his chin over her shoulder as he pulled her as close to him as possible.

"Ryu-san. If there's anyone who deserves punishment from whoever or whatever for the things they have done, it's me. You, however. You slayed those who took your familia away. You killed them in the name of love. A love that masked itself in hatred. But I… I killed because I scorned them…"

She didn't say anything. And he didn't have anything else to say.

He tightened his hold around her. To the point where he was shaking, but not enough to harm her. In that moment of furtive vulnerability, he wanted someone to hold. He squeezed tightly, so sure that if he loosened his grip, she would slip from his grasp and vanish into thin air. In that warm, hushed moment, he didn't want to be alone.