CHAPTER 70 - ACT 1 (7)

Soren Arden POV

Thud

Lyra’s head hit the floor with a thud, her body following only moments later.

She was dead.

Soren looked at Lyra’s lifeless eyes, his arm still outstretched, seemingly not understanding what had just taken place.

‘...’

His mind was blank.

He blinked.

Once, then twice.

Nothing made sense.

Lyra had been talking, smiling, finally opening up to Soren.

The sound of her body hitting the floor echoed in his ears, and yet, the sound didn’t register.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Lyra…?” His voice cracked, low and hoarse.

Everything felt unreal, like a bad dream that wouldn’t end.

Her smile, her words, the way she had just started to trust him.

All of it was gone, snatched away in an instant.

Soren clutched his hands over his mouth as the nausea rose, his stomach twisted as Lyra’s blood reached his feet.

He didn’t know how to feel.

Confusion, panic, anger, sorrow; they all collided, leaving him lost.

Soren had experienced death before; he had even experienced it happening right in front of him, like back with the thieves, but this time felt different.

Only moments prior had he been casually talking about sharing a meal with Lyla, and now her lifeless corpse lay before him.

“Soren!” Felix’s shout rang out through the halls, but his voice didn’t even register in Soren’s still frozen mind.

[Heehee… That makes three.]

A figure shrouded by a black cloak clung to the ceiling above the three people still standing, giggling creepily as it rubbed its face against its dagger.

It was only when that voice was heard that Soren’s halted brain finally began working once more.

“A-Ahhhh!”

Soren screamed, collapsing to the floor, hands clutching his head as tears streamed down his face.

His body shook uncontrollably, and his chest was tight.

“I-It wasn’t supposed to…! W-Why… why?!” His voice cracked, broken by sobs.

His eyes trembled, wide and uncomprehending, as the crimson blood of the fallen stained his clothes. Each heartbeat thudded painfully in his ears.

Dash!

A black figure flashed past, landing on the wall next to him.

[Heehee… My lord will be pleased, right? Heehee.]

The cloaked creature’s laughter crawled over him like ice, his fingers tracing the blade of the dagger.

[Heehee, I can’t wait to be praised.]

Soren’s stomach lurched. Nausea churned, panic and guilt knotting together.

‘Why did it end like this?’

Everything felt unreal, as if he were outside his own body, watching it happen but powerless to stop it.

“Soren! Snap out of it! We need to move!”

Felix ran over to the collapsed Soren, shaking his body back and forth, desperately trying to bring Soren back to his senses, to no avail.

“F-Felix?! What… What do we do?! I-I don’t—”

Yuli’s voice was cut off, just like Lyra’s, as the figure cloaked in black moved once more, the dagger in his hand cleanly cutting through Yuli’s neck.

“Fuck! Soren?! Ugh–! Screw it!”

Noting that Soren was still out of it, Felix picked Soren up and threw him over his arm, running as fast as his legs could possibly take him, the corpses of his fellow teammates fading into the background as he ran.

Meanwhile, Soren, who Felix was carrying, was still holding his hand over his mouth, desperately trying to suppress the urge to vomit.

He knew that he had to snap out of it, but neither his body nor his mind would cooperate with that thought.

The scene of Lyra’s head separating from her body kept replaying in his mind endlessly.

Over and over again, perfectly.

This was the curse of perfect memory.

Soren could remember every last detail, down to the look in Lyra’s eyes, just as the dagger cut through her neck.

The pure look in her eyes, the joy at having her suggestion accepted, the faint blush on her cheeks as she looked at Soren.

That pure life had been brought to an end so suddenly.

Soren’s chest convulsed, air scraping in and out of his lungs as if even breathing had become foreign.

He pressed his palm harder against his mouth, but it did nothing; the bile still rose, threatening to spill given a moment's reprieve.

‘Stop. Stop replaying it. Please…’

But his memory betrayed him.

Over and over, perfect and merciless.

“Soren!” Felix’s voice cut through, sharp and frantic, just before his world lurched sideways.

Strong arms hooked beneath him, hauling him up like dead weight.

The hallway blurred.

Each step Felix took jostled his body, but Soren wasn’t there; he was still watching Lyra fall again and again, hearing the thud echo endlessly in his skull.

“Stay with me, damn it!” Felix barked, the strain in his voice almost breaking through the fog.

Soren tried to answer, but only air escaped, half-choked by the bile burning his throat.

His vision blurred with tears.

His ears filled with the cloaked creature’s laughter, twisting and stretching until it was all he could hear.

He wanted to respond, to move, to do something, but his body refused, limp in Felix’s grasp.

All he could do was endure it; the endless replay, the suffocating weight of helplessness.

Felix’s feet pounded against the ground with every step.

Soren hung limp in his grasp, still choking on sobs, still trapped in that endless replay of Lyra’s fall.

Behind them, the cloaked figure clung to the ceiling, dagger pressed against its cheek, eyes glinting with sick delight.

[Heehee… Run, run, run.]

It didn’t give chase, not yet, it just watched the pair's actions creepily from a distance.

Soren’s body jolted as Felix rounded a corner, his breath ragged with exertion, but no matter how fast they moved, Soren was still somewhere else, trapped in that one perfect, merciless memory.

“Soren? For fuck’s sake! Will you snap out of it already?” Felix yelled at the top of his lungs, but his words slid off the fog around Soren’s mind.

Then…

“Huh?!” A sharp, startled voice rang out ahead.

Felix skidded to a stop.

Four figures emerged from the far end of the corridor, weapons half-raised.

It was Alex and Olivia’s group.

Their wide eyes swept over the scene: Felix’s blood-smeared clothes, Soren’s limp form, the fresh crimson still dripping from his hands.

“W-What happened?!” Olivia cried, rushing forward.

The sound of her voice struck through Soren like a blade of light.

His fogged mind faltered, if only for a second.

A different image flickered; not Lyra’s corpse, but Olivia’s face, alive, eyes full of shock, of concern.

Felix shifted Soren under his arm, anxiously looking behind him.

“No time! That thing’s still following!”

Alex stepped forward with a serious expression.

“Felix, what happened?”

That voice, the moment Soren heard it, his trembling body twitched under Felix’s arm.

His breath caught, as if his body remembered how to breathe for the first time in forever.

The laughter in his head receded, if only a little.

His ears caught a different sound; Olivia’s worried voice.

“Soren! It’s okay, it’s okay! Wake up! Quiet thy storm, still thy heart. In the name of Aryn, peace shall find thee. 「Mental Care」”

Olivia’s words sank into him; something warm pressed against the frayed edges of his mind.

For the first time since Lyra’s fall, the endless replay faltered.

The thud, the blood, the lifeless eyes; still there, still vivid, but muted, pushed a little further back.

The weight on his chest loosened just enough for him to draw a real breath.

Soren’s trembling eased, though it didn’t stop.

His fingers dug into his own arms as though afraid he might unravel again if he let go.

“Olivia…?” His cracked voice rasped out.

Her face came into focus, worried but alive.

Alive.

That single truth kept him from slipping under again.

Felix let out a rough, relieved exhale.

“Thank god… finally.”

But Soren barely heard him.

His heavy head swivelled sharply, eyes scanning the corners of the hall. His breathing was too fast, too shallow, like prey waiting for the predator’s jaws to close.

Alex’s calm voice cut through the panic.

“According to Felix, something appeared and killed your teammates. You… lost yourself. He carried you until we met.”

Soren flinched at the blunt words.

His lips pressed together, the taste of bile threatening to return.

He forced himself to swallow it down.

“Ah!” He lurched upright, words tumbling out ragged and uneven. “M-Murmur! It was Murmur!”

Felix frowned. “Murmur?”

Soren’s hands trembled at his sides, but his voice rose, cracking under the weight of urgency.

“The thing that was after us. It’s a dark elf. Murmur. One of the… one of the Seventy-Two Demons.”

The group froze. The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

“…Seventy-Two…?” one of Alex’s companions whispered, their voice trembling.

Alex’s eyes widened before hardening with resolve.

“Then we don’t have time to hesitate.”

Soren shook his head violently, clutching at his temples as though to stop the memories clawing back.

“He’s watching us right now! He… He let us run! He wants more victims!” His voice broke again, wild around the edges.

Even with Olivia’s spell stitching his mind together, the cracks showed.

His body was present, his words coherent, but behind his eyes the fear lingered, raw and jagged.

Soren, with his memories of the game, knew Murmur’s patterns; he knew how sadistic of a creature he was, and he knew his goals of creating as much chaos as possible in order to be praised by the demon lord.

[Heehee, that’s no fun, is it, now?]

Suddenly, as if Soren’s explanation was the trigger, a cloaked figure appeared on the ceiling above the group.

It was Murmur.

————「❤︎」————