Heka's strength waned rapidly. The vibe around Heka blurred and darkened as he sank to his knees. And then, he collapsed onto the frigid ground.
Nevertheless, he lay still. Nobody came to help him. No friendly face appeared to ease his suffering. A chilling thought crossed his mind, could this be my ending? Was this truly his last day?
As consciousness slipped away, his last thoughts were a tangled mix of fear, regret, and a faint. But, he had a glimmer of hope. Somehow, it would go against all odds. He might survive, again and again.
***
Heka slowly woke, but instinctively kept his eyes shut tight. The memories of what had just transpired flooded his mind: the stabbing, the pain, and the helplessness. Fear gripped him like a vice.
What if, upon opening his eyes, he was met with a sight far worse than any nightmare? What if, he saw his own lifeless body lying cold and still inside a coffin?
The thought was unbearable. And so he remained in darkness. He clung to the fragile thread of consciousness.
His mind raced with one relentless thought: the Reverse Time Illusion. This cruel, twisted reality he was trapped in had become his tormentor.
He blamed himself bitterly. "Shit!!! Why didn't you ask Marchio how to escape from this ordeal?"
The words echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgiving. Marchio, the one person who might have held the key to freedom, had been overlooked in his desperation.
Now, he was trapped in this suffocating limbo. He understood the brutal truth: if he wanted to break free, he had to find a path that no one had shown him. A path that might not even exist. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him like a stone, cold and unyielding.
His breath caught as the chilling thought crept in, whispering dread into his soul: "Maybe, I'll be stuck here forever. And never come back."
The possibility was a shadow that threatened to consume him whole.
Suddenly, the oppressive silence was shattered by the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Each step was deliberate, breaking through the heavy stillness like a beacon of hope or a harbinger of something unknown. Summoning every ounce of courage left within him. Hence, Heka forced his eyes open.
The room he found himself in stirred a faint sense of familiarity. A fragile thread connecting him to a past he barely remembered. The walls, the furniture, everything seemed oddly reminiscent of a place he once knew. A sanctuary from a life that now felt like a distant dream.
He wondered. His voice was barely a whisper, trembling with uncertainty. "Isn't this Hansel's room? Ansel's brother?"
His fingers instinctively brushed over his belly. He expected to feel the searing pain of the wound that had haunted him moments before.
To his astonishment, there was no pain, no wound. His skin was smooth and unmarked, as if the stabbing had never happened. "How could this be?" Confusion and disbelief warred within him.
The door creaked open slowly, and a familiar voice called out softly. "Ansel..."
The sound was like a lifeline thrown across a stormy sea. Heka's heart leapt with a sudden surge of hope and recognition.
"Heka, you're awake!" Ansel's face appeared in the doorway. His presence broke into a wide, joyous smile that lit up the room.
His eyes sparkled with relief and excitement, a stark contrast to the bleakness that had enveloped Heka's space. Then, with a shout full of unrestrained happiness. He called out. "Grandpa, Heka is awake!"
The words hung in the air, warm and comforting. As if they could heal the fractures in Heka's spirit. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a fragile thread of hope began to weave itself through the darkness. Promising that perhaps, just perhaps, this ordeal would never be ended.
The room seemed to brighten with the warmth of Ansel's presence, but Heka's mind was still clouded with doubt. The Reverse Time Illusion had thrown so many surprises at him in such a short time that he barely knew what to expect next. All he wanted was to end this torment once and for all.
Ansel's voice grew serious. "Heka, you're really awake. Grandpa was right. The only thing that can save you now is Soul Delivery."
Soul Delivery
The words struck a chord deep within Heka. He remembered reading about it once, buried in the dusty shelves of the New Haven Public Library. It was a concept so strange and terrifying that most humans could never accept it.
According to the book, if one were to undergo Soul Delivery. They risked becoming something monstrous, something no longer fully human.
He recalled stumbling upon that book by chance during a visit to the museum. The author and title escaped him now, but the memory of the warning lingered.
Maybe, he thought. "If I want to escape this Reverse Time Illusion, I must find Marchio first."
Grateful but restless, Heka turned to Ansel. His eyes reflected a mixture of appreciation and urgency. He said, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet insistence. "Ansel, thank you very much for helping me. It's better to go home soon."
The words carried more weight than a simple farewell; they were a declaration of his need to reclaim his own space, to step back into the life that awaited beyond these walls. Despite the warmth and safety Ansel's house offered, Heka felt the invisible chains of unease tightening around him. He really had to leave.
Ansel, sensing the tension beneath Heka's calm exterior, nodded with understanding. "Okay, I'll take you home."
The bond between them was forged in moments of vulnerability and trust. It was unspoken yet deeply felt.
But Heka shook his head firmly. "No, thanks. I can go home alone. Thank you for helping me."
His mind was set in one place, the Kiervant Sky Forest. Somewhere in a deep forest, he believed that if he could find Kiervant Sky, he might finally find a way out of this endless illusion.
Without waiting for another word, Heka hurried out the door. Determination was burning in his eyes.