Darkness didn't come all at once.
It flickered.
Ryo's vision faded—
but not completely.
Shapes moved.
Blurred.
Broken.
A sound—
SHNK.
Something cut through the air.
The Westling moved.
But slower now.
Unstable.
Another sound—
THUD.
Ryo couldn't see clearly.
Only shadows.
A figure stepped forward.
Calm.
Controlled.
The Westling attacked—
wild—
unbalanced—
The figure shifted.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Just… precise.
Another strike—
low—
The Westling's leg gave slightly.
Ryo's vision blurred further.
"…what… is…"
A final sound—
closer this time—
SHNK.
Silence.
Everything went black.
…
Light returned slowly.
Ryo's eyes opened.
Pain came first.
A dull, heavy pain spreading through his entire body.
"…ugh…"
It felt like his body didn't belong to him anymore.
Every breath dragged across his chest like broken glass.
He tried to move.
His arm shook.
Weak.
The ground beneath him wasn't cold dirt anymore.
It was… wood.
Ryo blinked.
A ceiling.
Broken.
Old.
Light slipping through cracks above.
Dust floated in the air, slowly drifting like ash.
"…where…?"
His voice came out dry.
He turned his head slightly.
Every movement hurt.
He was inside a small structure.
Half-destroyed.
Walls cracked.
Roof barely holding.
But it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Safe.
For now.
A faint smell of dried blood and dust filled the air.
Ryo tried to sit up.
Pain shot through his side.
"Don't move too much."
A voice.
Ryo froze.
His eyes shifted.
A figure stood near the entrance.
The same one.
From before.
The one who stood between him…
and death.
Ryo's throat tightened.
"…you…"
The man didn't respond immediately.
He simply stood there.
Calm.
Still.
Like nothing in this world could shake him.
Then—
"…you're awake."
Ryo forced himself up slightly.
"…why…?"
The man looked at him.
No emotion.
"…why did you save me…?"
Silence.
Then—
"…you were still breathing."
Ryo's hands clenched slightly.
"…that thing… what was it…?"
The man turned his gaze toward the outside.
"…something you can't fight."
Ryo's jaw tightened.
"…then how do you fight it…?"
A pause.
"…you don't."
Ryo froze.
"…not like that."
The answer felt heavy.
Final.
Ryo looked down.
At his hands.
Shaking.
Images flashed in his mind—
the village,
the destruction,
the people he couldn't save.
"…I couldn't do anything…"
His voice dropped.
"…I just ran…"
The man didn't reply.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
he moved.
He stepped toward the exit.
Ryo looked up.
"…wait…"
The man stopped.
"…where are you going…?"
No answer.
"…I'll die like this…"
The words slipped out.
Raw.
Honest.
For the first time—
the man spoke without pause.
"…then don't."
Ryo's eyes narrowed.
"…what…?"
The man didn't turn.
"…if you want to live…"
A small pause.
"…go where people fight back."
Ryo's breath slowed.
"…where…?"
The man stepped forward.
Light from outside falling over him.
"…the Edge of the Guardians."
Silence.
The words stayed.
Heavy.
Unknown.
Ryo's grip tightened on the ground.
"…where is it…?"
The man didn't answer directly.
"…follow the broken roads."
"…you'll find others."
"…or you won't."
Ryo's expression hardened slightly.
"…and if I don't…?"
A pause.
"…then you die."
Simple.
Cold.
The man walked forward.
"…wait—!"
Ryo pushed himself up.
Falling slightly.
"…why are you telling me this…?"
The man stopped for a moment.
"…because you're still alive."
Then—
he walked away.
Footsteps faded.
Silence returned.
Then—
THUD.
Something landed beside Ryo.
He flinched slightly.
Turning his head with effort.
His eyes focused slowly.
The axe.
The same one.
Worn.
Rough.
Stained.
The one he had thrown.
The one that didn't save him—
but didn't let him die either.
Ryo's breath caught.
"…why…?"
From outside—
a voice came.
Distant now.
"…next time…"
A pause.
"…aim better."
Silence returned.
Ryo's hand trembled as he reached for the axe.
Slowly—
he gripped it.
The rough wood pressed into his palm.
Real.
Solid.
This time—
he didn't let go.
He sat there for a moment.
Alone.
Again.
"…Edge of the Guardians…"
The words felt distant.
Unreal.
But one thing was clear.
If he stayed—
he would die.
Slowly—
Ryo stood up.
Pain still there.
Weakness still there.
But something else too.
A direction.
He stepped outside.
Cold air hit his face.
The world was still broken.
Still silent.
Still dangerous.
But now—
he wasn't running blindly.
He tightened his grip on the axe.
And started walking.
Toward something.
Even if he didn't understand it yet.