**Chapter 55 – Shadows of Guilt**
**[KEND – INN – JULIA'S ROOM – EARLY MORNING]**
**Void**.
Not darkness.
Not light.
**Absolute white** stretching infinitely in every direction — no horizon, no floor, no sky, no spatial reference points, making it impossible to tell whether she was floating, standing, or falling eternally through nothing.
And **silence**.
But not emptiness.
Filled.
---
**SELFISH**.
The word **whispered** — not loud but piercing, echoing through the impossible whiteness from every direction at once.
**SELFISH**.
Repeating.
Multiplying.
Ten voices. A hundred voices. **A thousand** voices overlapping, creating a cacophony that drilled into her skull, making bones vibrate painfully.
**SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH**
An infinite accusation ricocheting through the white void with no possible escape.
---
**Julia** — feeling no body but aware of existing — tried to **scream** but her throat produced no sound, tried to cover her ears but her arms didn't respond, tried to **run** but her legs didn't exist in this impossible place.
Only **consciousness** trapped in eternal judgment.
---
Then a **voice** cut through the accusing chorus — different, recognizable, **terrifying**:
"Come on, little knight…" — mockingly soft, cruel tone, **the Maestro** — "…where is that **determination** you proclaimed so loudly?"
A low, wet laugh that made skin crawl even without a physical body:
"Where is your **courage** when your family calls and you **ignore** them? Where is your **honor** when you choose pixels over **real** people?"
---
**Other voices** joined — not the Maestro but family, painfully familiar:
*"Julia never has time for us."* — **mother's** voice, disappointed.
*"She prefers stupid little games."* — **father's** voice, bitter.
*"Why doesn't our sister play with us?"* — voices of **Tiago** and **Maia**, confused, hurt.
**True** accusations — not distorted, not exaggerated, simply **truth** that Julia had buried under layers of denial and rationalization.
---
And then the white void **tore**.
**Four figures** materialized ten meters ahead — not appearing gradually but **existing** suddenly, as though they had always been there and Julia had simply failed to notice until now.
**Father** — forty-five-year-old man, dark-brown hair graying at the temples, black-framed glasses, wearing the light-blue dress shirt and jeans he wore on Sundays, expression completely **blank**, eyes fixed straight ahead without apparent focus.
**Mother** — forty-two-year-old woman, shoulder-length brown hair, wearing the yellow floral dress Julia vaguely remembered seeing her in last before being transported, face **expressionless** like a wax mask.
**Tiago** — twelve-year-old brother, messy hair identical to hers, favorite superhero T-shirt, soccer shorts, eyes **empty** like soulless dolls.
**Maia** — nine-year-old sister, hair in the braids their mother always made before school, pink dress with stars, clutching a worn teddy bear, expression completely **absent**.
All of them **standing still** — not moving, not visibly breathing, simply **existing** in disturbing silence.
---
**Julia** — body suddenly **existing** again — felt her knees hit the invisible white floor (solid and non-solid simultaneously), tears **exploding** from her eyes without warning, a scream tearing from her throat:
**MOM! DAD! TIAGO! MAIA!**
She rose and **ran** — not thinking, only reacting instinctively, legs moving clumsily like a child learning to walk, arms desperately reaching forward wanting to **touch**, **grab**, **confirm** they were real.
Pure **joy** flooding her chest — not logical, not questioning the impossibility, just raw emotion of seeing her family after months of separation believing she would never see them again.
**Wait**! Wait for me! I'm here! I'm **alive**! — Voice **breaking** between sobs. — I'm sorry! Sorry for **everything**! Sorry for not giving you attention! Sorry for choosing games! Sorry! **I'M SORRY**!
She ran — the white void offering strange resistance like running through water but denser, each step requiring massive effort but determination overcoming impossible physics.
Ten meters. Nine. Eight. Seven.
**Tears** falling in torrents — vision blurred but it didn't matter because she **knew** it was them, the family she loved despite the neglect she had shown.
Six meters. Five. Four.
Arms stretching — almost **reaching**.
Three meters.
---
**Change**.
Not gradual.
**Instantaneous**.
---
**Heads** — father, mother, Tiago, Maia — **separated** from bodies simultaneously.
Not violently cut but **detaching** like disassembled dolls, a perfect horizontal line appearing at their necks, heads **tilting** backward in disturbing slow motion, empty eyes finally focusing directly on Julia in the moment before they **fell**.
**THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.**
Four heads hitting the white floor — wet, nauseating sound echoing infinitely.
The bodies remained **standing** — headless but not falling, not bleeding, simply **empty** ending in cleanly severed necks.
---
**Julia** froze — legs locking, momentum carrying her body two more steps before she **fell** to her knees three meters from her decapitated family, scream trapped in her throat unable to escape because her lungs forgot how to **breathe**.
---
And behind the headless bodies — **something** began to **grow**.
Not appear.
**Expand**.
---
**The Maestro** — figure starting human-sized but **inflating** exponentially every second, tattered black cloak expanding like the wings of a giant raven blocking all the white void behind, body stretching vertically until reaching **a hundred meters** tall, making Julia look like a microscopic ant before a living mountain of rippling black fabric.
**Hood** remained covering the face — never revealing features but the shadow within suggesting impossible distorted human contours, only the **mouth** visible emerging from absolute darkness.
Thin lips curving into a **smile** stretched far beyond possible anatomy, yellowish crooked teeth gleaming under nonexistent light, black tongue occasionally flicking out to lick the lips like a predator savoring an anticipated meal.
**Laughter** — not loud but **penetrating**, vibrating through bones making marrow boil, the sound of fingernails scraping a chalkboard amplified a thousand times:
"Khehehehe… khehehehehe… **KHEHEHEHEHE**…"
---
The Maestro tilted his head — slow, deliberate movement, neck audibly cracking:
"Where is your **courage** now, pathetic little knight?" — Voice reverberating like distant thunder. — "Where is the **determination** you swore under naive stars just hours ago?"
He pointed a skeletal finger emerging from the sleeve — long black nail like a sword pointing directly at the severed heads:
**Family** you neglected. **Dead**. Because of **your** weakness. Because of your **selfishness**. Because you chose fantasy over **reality**.
---
**Julia** — paralysis breaking — **screamed**:
**NOOOOOO!**
Sound tearing from her throat, metallic taste of blood filling her mouth, hands uselessly covering ears because the sound came from **inside**, not outside.
She collapsed completely — face hitting the white floor, tears forming a puddle, body **shaking** violently uncontrollably.
---
The Maestro bent — a hundred meters impossibly folding until the giant face hovered three meters above her, hood finally revealing **eyes**:
Not eyes.
**Voids**.
Absolute black holes sucking in light and hope and will to live.
He whispered — voice now gentle, false, **worse** than screams:
"Sleep, **selfish** child. Sleep and **forget**. Your family doesn't need you. The world doesn't need you. You don't **deserve** to return."
Skeletal hand descending — long fingers like spears reaching for her neck.
---
**Julia** tried to move — arms unresponsive, legs useless, voice gone.
Only **tears** — silent, desperate, **useless**.
*Sorry mom dad Tiago Maia sorry sorry sorry*
Fingers **touched** her neck — cold like burning ice, slowly tightening.
Vision **darkening**.
Oxygen **running out**.
Consciousness **fading**.
*Sorry…*
---
**— JULIA!**
Voice — not the Maestro, **different**, familiar, **San**.
**— JULIA WAKE UP!**
Hands **shaking** her shoulders — not skeletal fingers but human, warm, **real**.
---
She **woke** — not gradually but **violently**.
Body **bolting** upright like a puppet pulled by strings, mouth **opening** desperately sucking air, lungs **burning** painfully expanding, eyes **wide** still seeing the white void superimposed over reality.
A **scream** tore from her throat — high-pitched, prolonged, **animal**.
---
**San** — kneeling beside the bed, hands on her shoulders — voice **firm** but gentle:
**Calm down**! Julia, **calm**! It's okay now! We're **here** with you!
**Jessica** — standing two meters away, an expression rarely seen of **genuine concern** breaking through her usual corporate mask.
---
**Julia** turned her head — eyes finally focusing on San, recognizing **reality**, processing that the nightmare **had ended**.
And **collapsed**.
Not gradually.
Completely.
She threw herself forward — arms **clinging** desperately to San like a child clinging to a parent after a nightmare, face burying in his shoulder, sobs **tearing** through her body in uncontrollable waves, tears **soaking** his tunic in seconds.
She didn't speak.
She just **cried** — deeply, viscerally, releasing accumulated terror, guilt, and pain.
---
**San** froze — not expecting such direct physical contact — but then **reacted**.
Arms wrapping around her shoulders — not romantically but protectively, right hand stroking her back in slow circles, voice **whispering**:
"It's okay. You're **safe**. It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It's not real. You're **here**. **Alive**. With us."
He repeated — comforting mantra, deliberately monotonous tone creating an auditory anchor to reality.
---
**Five minutes** passed.
Sobs gradually **lessening** — not stopping but losing intensity, breathing slowly regulating, tremors ceasing.
Julia finally **pulled away** — wiping her face with the backs of her hands, eyes red and swollen, voice **hoarse**:
"Sorry… sorry for that… I…"
She didn't finish.
---
**San** shook his head:
"You don't need to apologize for **anything**." — Absolute tone. — "Nightmares happen. Especially after… after what we've been through."
Pause:
"Do you want to talk about it?"
---
Julia shook her head — **no**.
She couldn't verbalize it yet.
Too **fresh**, too **real**.
---
**Time** passed — ten minutes of silence while Julia gradually regained composure, breathing finally normalizing completely.
She sat **upright** on the bed — wiping her face one last time, forcing the mask of control back into place.
**San** — still kneeling beside her — asked carefully:
"Julia… will you be able to participate in the mission **today**?" — Not accusation, genuine concern. — "No one would judge you if you needed more time to—"
---
**Julia** cut him off — voice **firm** despite still-red eyes:
**Yes**. I will go. — Tone admitting no argument. — I just ask that you give me a **moment** to get properly ready.
She looked at both of them:
"Wait outside. Please."
---
**San** hesitated — clearly wanting to protest — but nodded.
He stood — walking to the door.
**Jessica** followed silently.
The door **closed** gently.
---
**[EXTERNAL CORRIDOR – SAME MOMENT]**
**Jessica** — as soon as the door fully closed — voice emerging **analytical**, cold:
"I see that young woman lacks the proper **leadership mentality** for operational command under psychological pressure."
---
**San** turned **abruptly** — eyes **flashing** with anger:
**Shut up**, Jessica! You don't know what you're talking about!
---
**Jessica** — impassive:
"A true warrior and competent CEO knows how to **learn** from mistakes and move forward productively." — Professorial tone. — "She's been carrying this psychological drama with the Maestro since we faced him **months** ago. We were all equally traumatized. So why hasn't she **properly** overcome it yet?"
Arms crossed:
"Mental weakness indicates operational weakness. Statistically proven fact in high-pressure corporate environments."
---
**San** — voice rising:
**Shut up**! What does a lunatic who thinks **everything** is a stupid corporate company going to understand about someone's **real** feelings?!
Deep breath trying to control himself:
"Julia watched **seven** companions **die** right in front of her! Seven **friends**! People she knew! And she almost died **herself**! That's not 'drama' you just get over in months because it's operationally convenient!"
---
**Jessica** — expression unchanging:
"You know deep down I'm **logically correct**."
She turned and walked toward the stairs:
"You'll find me at the inn entrance when you're finally ready to depart. Since clearly you're going to want to be her **bodyguard** indefinitely."
She descended the stairs — footsteps echoing.
---
**San** — alone in the corridor — fists **clenching**, teeth grinding:
"Impossible… completely **impossible** woman…"
Deep breath — forcing the anger to dissipate.
He walked toward the stairs:
"Wait for me, crazy CEO. Julia will meet us there. She's **stronger** than you think."
---
**[INN – MAIN ENTRANCE – 30 MINUTES LATER]**
**San** and **Jessica** — standing in tense silence under the carved wooden porch, sun already fully above the horizon bathing Kend in golden morning light.
Neither spoke.
Jessica examining her nails.
San watching the street as merchants opened shops.
---
The door behind them **opened**.
**Julia** emerged — sky-blue armor polished to a shine, hair tied back militarily, sword sheathed at her side, face washed removing traces of crying, expression **completely composed**, professional mask firmly in place.
Only slightly **swollen** eyes revealed the difficult night.
---
**San** turned:
"Are you **better** now?"
---
**Julia** — small but genuine smile:
**Yes**. Thank you for asking, San.
---
**Jessica** — without looking:
**Finally**. We can proceed operationally now.
---
**Julia** ignored the tone — accustomed:
"Let's go."
---
**[KEND – WEST GATE – 15 MINUTES LATER]**
They walked through the still-waking city — merchants sweeping sidewalks, children running to school, smell of fresh bread permeating the air.
They reached the **west gate** — smaller than the main one but equally fortified, suspension bridge extending beyond and disappearing into morning mist.
**Governor Heldfin** — waiting with **ten armed guards**, wearing formal red tunic, expression of **surprise** crossing his face upon seeing only three knights:
"Will your **supervisors** designated by the Church not be accompanying you?"
---
**Julia** — professional voice:
"Unfortunately we were unable to reach them this morning despite repeated attempts." — Smooth lie. — "We decided to proceed with the mission so as not to give the monsters **more** time to expand their territory. We will report the situation to the supervisors later."
---
Heldfin — clearly not fully believing but not questioning:
**Understood** perfectly.
Pause — genuine smile:
"The Church is **fortunate** to have knights as dedicated and competent as you three. Many would simply wait indefinitely for superior orders."
---
**Julia**, **San**, and **Jessica** — feeling **genuinely flattered** by rare recognition.
"Thank you, Governor." — Julia inclined her head slightly.
---
Heldfin gestured toward the bridge:
"All that remains is to wish you **good luck** and a safe return. Kend awaits your victory."
---
**Julia** nodded — checking equipment one final time.
**San** adjusting **daggers** in dual side sheaths.
**Jessica** placing thick **grimoire** into a leather satchel slung across her shoulder.
**Julia** sliding her sword fully into the sheath, confirming it was secure.
---
**San** — looking at the weapons:
"I still don't understand why we even **carry** these weapons physically when we can just pull them from the system's magical inventory whenever needed."
---
**Julia**:
"To show that we are **professionally equipped** soldiers. And also so we don't give any indication that we are **different** from the native knights of this world who don't have a system."
---
**Jessica**:
"Lack of strategic CEO mindset."
---
**San** — annoyed:
**Shut up**, you corporate lunatic.
---
They began to **walk** — boots striking the wooden suspension bridge in steady rhythm.
The bridge stretched a full **kilometer** to the adjacent mountain where the western forest began, three meters wide allowing single-file comfortable passage, thick rope railings on both sides, constant wind making the bridge **sway** slightly but the structure remaining solid.
---
**Julia** — glancing at San walking tensely beside her:
"Still **afraid** of these suspension bridges, San?" — Gentle, teasingly affectionate tone.
---
**San** — eyes fixed straight ahead refusing to look down:
"I've been afraid of heights **forever**. I think it's impossible for me to get used to these damn bridges no matter how many times I cross them."
---
**Julia** — genuine smile crossing her face:
"At least you're honest about your weaknesses."
---
**Jessica** — ten meters ahead, voice projecting back:
"That's because you lack the **CEO mindset** oriented toward overcoming limitations through repeated forced exposure. Just the mentality of **failed** people who don't take proper risks."
---
**San** — fist **clenching**, vein pulsing in his temple:
"One of these days I'm going to **hit** that woman…" — muttered through gritted teeth.
---
**Julia** — smile widening:
**Leave** her, San. You know how she is. She won't change.
---
They continued — crossing the full kilometer in fifteen careful minutes.
They reached the opposite **platform** — solid ground again, palpable relief from San.
And ahead, fifty meters distant — the **forest**.
---
All three **froze** — eyes **widening** processing the visual impossibility.
---
The **trees** were not normal.
**Giants** — trunks ten to fifteen meters in **diameter** at the base, black bark covered in bioluminescent moss pulsing faintly ghostly green, roots arching out of the soil forming natural caverns large enough for a person to walk through, branches beginning thirty meters above ground extending horizontally forty meters creating a canopy so **dense** it blocked ninety percent of sunlight, turning the forest interior into perpetual twilight even at noon.
**Mist** crawled — not natural but laden with visible magical energy like distortion in the air, occasional swirls of purple-green cutting through milky white.
And **silence** — not peaceful but **disturbing absence**: no birds singing, no insects buzzing, no wind whispering through leaves, only oppressive acoustic **void**.
---
**San** — low voice:
"Something is **seriously wrong** with this forest."
---
**Jessica** — rare agreement:
"I also detect obvious anomaly. We need to stay **extremely** alert."
Pause — then she began walking directly toward the forest:
"A true CEO faces fears by **walking** through them, not hesitating cowardly."
---
**Julia** — shouting:
**Don't** go too far ahead, Jessica! It's **dangerous** to separate from the group!
---
But Jessica had already **disappeared** beneath the canopy of giant trees.
**San** and **Julia** exchanged a look of pure exasperation:
"Let's go." — Julia sighed.
They ran — reaching the forest entrance and plunging into the ghostly green twilight.
**[WESTERN FOREST – INTERIOR – 10 MINUTES LATER]**
They moved cautiously — Jessica in front analyzing everything, San in the middle nervously scanning the sides, Julia bringing up the rear guarding the back, hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
The temperature had dropped — ten degrees colder than outside despite it being summer, humidity clinging to skin like an oily film.
The bioluminescent moss provided minimal illumination — enough to see three meters ahead but no further, shadows dancing in disturbing patterns suggesting movement where none existed.
And the energy — palpable, oppressive, making the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end, the HUD occasionally flickering with interference as if the saturated magic in the air disrupted the system's normal function.
Jessica — staring at a tree with strange symbols carved into the bark:
"The magical energy here is exponentially above normal levels based on interface readings. This confirms the governor's report about increased saturation."
San — staring at the shadows:
"But where are the monsters? I expected to run into some by now."
Julia — examining strange footprints in the soil:
"Patience. Keep looking for signs of—"
**ROAR.**
Not a sound.
A **physical event**.
A massive shockwave exploded through the forest from the north — not merely audible but **felt**, pressure waves visibly shaking the giant trees like grass in the wind, ground vibrating beneath their feet making stones jump, leaves and branches torn loose and hurled in every direction like paper in a hurricane.
Absolute volume — not an animal roar but a force of nature, a sound that bones registered before ears could process it.
It lasted five full seconds.
Then silence returned — more oppressive than before.
Julia — face pale:
"That roar can't be… don't tell me it's a dragon…"
Voice trembling — not just fear but recognition: she had studied the creatures of this world enough to know that only true dragons produced roars with physical power.
Before anyone could answer — movement.
Red points — hundreds of them — ignited across the canopies thirty meters above, glowing like living embers in the darkness, arranged in pairs suggesting eyes, appearing simultaneously in a complete circle fully surrounding the trio.
And sounds — not roars but laughter: high-pitched, chittering, human but distorted, echoing through trunks creating a disturbing surround effect.
Jessica — voice coming out frightened for the first time in weeks:
"What are those red points up there?!"
The answer came — not verbal but visual.
A creature dove from a branch — not falling but attacking deliberately in a controlled trajectory, membranous wings beating once to adjust angle.
Humanoid body but completely covered in oily dark-gray fur, two meters tall, distorted proportions with excessively long arms ending in fifteen-centimeter curved black claws, inverted digitigrade legs like a bat's, black leather wings extending three meters tip-to-tip emerging from the back through rips in the skin, head retaining a vaguely human shape but face grotesquely twisted: flattened nose reduced to two holes, elongated pointed ears, mouth stretched beyond normal revealing double rows of needle-sharp teeth, red eyes glowing with malicious non-animal intelligence.
Impossible hybrid — corrupted human or evolved bat, terrifying result of magic or experiment or curse.
It came straight for Jessica — claws extended to tear.
Julia — training overriding fear — shouted:
**ATTACK!**
She drew her sword — blade gleaming under the ghostly green light.