Arthur stayed on one knee, his breath uneven, chest rising and falling like he'd just crawled out of hell.
The battlefield was gone.
No shadows.
No voices.
No movement.
Just silence.
For a moment, he let himself believe it was over.
His hands were still trembling. Not from fear—but from everything his body had just endured. The fight hadn't been easy, but it was something he understood. Pain, movement, survival… those were things he could control.
This silence?
It felt wrong.
Then the interface appeared.
No sound. No warning.
Just a faint shift in the air, and the mechanical lines formed quietly before his eyes.
SOULBORNE TASK — PHASE 1: COMPLETED
Arthur frowned slightly, breathing still rough.
"…Phase 1?"
The words hadn't even settled in his mind before the interface shifted again.
The lines tightened. The symbols rearranged themselves with slow, deliberate precision.
PHASE 2: INITIATING
Arthur didn't get time to think.
It started instantly.
Not from outside.
From inside him.
His body jerked violently, like something had grabbed his spine and twisted it.
Then the pain came.
Not one pain.
Not something sharp or simple.
It was everything at once.
A blade tearing through flesh.
Bones snapping under pressure.
Heat—burning, suffocating—like fire crawling under his skin.
Arthur choked, his body folding in on itself as his hands slammed into the ground.
"—!"
No words came out. Just a broken sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a scream.
It didn't stop.
It stacked.
One sensation after another, piling on without pause. A stab in the chest before the last one could even fade. A crushing weight on his ribs. Something tearing through his back.
And then—
Fire.
His eyes widened.
That same fire.
But this time, it wasn't just his.
It was everywhere.
All at once.
His shoulders shook violently as the realization hit.
These weren't random.
These were theirs.
Every single one of them.
Every person who died that night.
Arthur's fingers dug into the ground, his body shaking uncontrollably as the pain surged again, stronger this time—deeper, heavier, impossible to separate.
He felt their last moments.
The panic.
The shock.
The pain.
Over and over again.
And it didn't fade.
It was forced into him.
Multiplied.
His vision blurred, dark creeping in at the edges as his body screamed for relief—any kind of relief—but there was none.
No escape.
No pause.
Just endurance.
"I…—"
His voice came out broken, barely there.
Another wave hit.
His back arched, a strangled cry tearing out of him as the sensation of burning swallowed everything else.
He remembered this.
Too clearly.
The stake.
The flames.
The helplessness.
Only now… it wasn't just his memory.
It was all of theirs.
Arthur's breathing turned ragged, uneven, his chest tightening as if something was crushing him from the inside.
His mind started to slip.
Too much.
It was too much.
His body couldn't handle it.
No one could.
But the pain didn't care.
It kept coming.
And coming.
And coming.
His grip on the ground weakened for a second—just a second—as his consciousness flickered.
Then something in him tightened.
His fingers clenched again.
Harder this time.
Not desperation.
Not panic.
Something else.
"…I remember…"
The words were quiet. Barely more than breath.
Another wave crashed into him.
His body shook violently, but he didn't collapse this time.
"I remember all of it…"
His eyes squeezed shut, jaw tightening as he forced himself to stay present—forced himself to feel it instead of running from it.
For so long, he had buried this.
Locked it away.
Pretended it wasn't there.
But now—
There was no hiding.
No escaping.
Only facing it.
Resonance of Pain stirred within him, not flaring wildly like before, but steady… almost calm. It didn't try to block the pain.
It adapted.
Adjusted.
Moved with it.
Arthur's breathing steadied—just a little.
Still rough. Still broken.
But controlled.
"…I won't run from it anymore."
The pain didn't lessen.
If anything, it deepened.
But something had changed.
It wasn't tearing him apart the same way.
He was… holding it.
Enduring it.
Accepting it.
Seconds passed.
Or minutes.
He couldn't tell.
Time didn't exist here.
Only pain.
Only memory.
Only him.
And then—
It stopped.
Just like that.
No fade.
No warning.
Everything went quiet.
Arthur collapsed forward slightly, catching himself with one hand as his body trembled from the aftermath. His breath came in sharp pulls, his entire frame still shaking, nerves still screaming even without the pain.
But he was conscious.
Still here.
Still alive.
The interface appeared again.
Slow.
Unhurried.
SOULBORNE TASK — PHASE 2: COMPLETED
Arthur didn't react immediately. He just stayed there, breathing, trying to steady himself.
Then, after a moment—
The lines shifted once more.
FINAL PHASE: PREPARING
Arthur lifted his head slightly, eyes still unfocused, body barely responding.
"…There's more…"
Not fear.
Not dread.
Just… acceptance.
Whatever came next—
He would face it.
The world shifted again.
Arthur lifted his head slowly.
Someone stood in front of him.
Same height.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Him.
But not the same.
This version stood straight, untouched, unshaken. No tension. No pain. No weight behind his gaze.
Just emptiness.
"…So this is next," Arthur muttered under his breath.
The other him tilted his head slightly.
"You still look like you're carrying it."
Arthur pushed himself to his feet slowly, body protesting but steady.
"…Yeah."
"You felt it," the other said. "All of it."
Arthur didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
"You left them," the other continued calmly. "They died because of you."
Arthur's jaw tightened.
"…I know."
"You chose wrong."
"…I know."
Silence stretched.
Then—
"Then why are you still pretending to stand?"
That one landed.
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
The other Arthur moved first.
Fast.
A punch came straight at him.
Arthur raised his arm just in time—the impact forced him back, boots scraping across the ground. Pain flared through his arm, sharp and immediate.
He steadied himself.
"…You don't hesitate."
"I don't carry unnecessary weight," the other replied.
He moved again.
Faster.
Arthur reacted—barely—blocking, redirecting, countering.
But something felt wrong.
Every move he made—
Was answered.
Cleanly.
Perfectly.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
Arthur stepped back slightly, breathing steady but heavy.
"…You don't feel anything, do you?"
"No."
Simple.
Flat.
"Pain slows you down," the other continued. "Guilt is inefficient."
Arthur exhaled slowly.
"…So you erased it?"
"I accepted it," the other corrected. "And moved on."
Another clash.
Faster.
Harder.
Arthur struck—blocked. Kicked—evaded. Turned—countered.
Everything he did—
Was predicted.
Because it was him.
Arthur dropped to one knee after a heavy impact, breath tightening.
"…Maybe you're right," he muttered.
The other stepped closer.
"You are weaker."
Arthur stayed there for a second.
Then—
"…Maybe."
He looked up.
"But I'm not empty."
That was new.
The other Arthur paused.
Just slightly.
Arthur pushed himself back to his feet.
"…I chose wrong," he said quietly. "They died because of me."
No denial.
No excuse.
Just truth.
"And I'm not pretending otherwise."
Something shifted.
Subtle.
Deep.
Arthur stepped forward this time.
Not fast.
Not aggressive.
Just certain.
"I'm not letting it crush me either."
Resonance of Pain stirred.
Not violently.
Not wildly.
But steady.
Controlled.
"…I'll carry it."
Another step.
"And I'll keep moving."
Silence.
Then—
They moved at the same time.
Their fists collided.
And this time—
Arthur didn't move back.
The impact held.
Balanced.
The other Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
Arthur's body moved again—clean, precise, but now something else flowed through it.
Not just pain.
Not just instinct.
Something refined.
Every ache in his body… every memory… every scar—
Was no longer dragging him down.
It was aligning.
Condensing.
Becoming something else.
Arthur stepped in.
One clean opening.
One precise strike.
His fist drove forward.
It landed.
The other Arthur staggered once.
Then stopped.
Silence.
He looked at Arthur… then smiled faintly.
"…Good."
His form began to fade.
"You didn't break."
And as he disappeared—
Something inside Arthur shifted.
Deep.
Fundamental.
The pain didn't vanish.
It settled.
Condensed.
Like something had taken everything he endured… and forged it into a single point.
Arthur stood still.
Breathing steady now.
And for the first time—
The system responded.
Not loudly.
Not urgently.
Just… acknowledging.
FINAL PHASE COMPLETED
A pause.
Then—
Something new.
Not a message.
A sensation.
The pain within him—
Moved.
Not randomly.
Not violently.
It gathered.
Refined.
Waiting.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…So this is it…"
He clenched his fist slowly.
And felt it.
Not pain.
Not anymore.
Power.
Quiet.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
Guilt Requiem… had awakened.