Splish. Splash.
Water filled the entire room. Ripples danced across the surface, twisting and shifting.
Then suddenly, the surface stirred—deeper, heavier—like something had awakened beneath it.
Poof!
"Ah… ah… ah…"
Code broke the surface, gasping. His skin was pale, chest heaving from the exertion.
After a few moments of panting, he looked up. The ceiling hovered just inches above his face.
"Ah… ah…"
He looked down. Nothing but water—deep and endless.
"What the hell?!" he coughed, voice echoing. He remembered the moment before—the floor collapsing and a flood dragging him under.
"Tch. That's what I get for walking backwards," he muttered bitterly.
As he turned to scan the room, something caught his eye.
"Eh?!"
He blinked, then dove back into the water without hesitation, swimming toward the shape ahead.
Splish. Splash.
With each stroke, the tension in his muscles eased just a bit. The darkness of the water gave way to light.
He reached it.
A doorway leading to a dry room.
He surfaced and dragged himself onto the floor, collapsing at the edge of the next chamber.
"How's this even possible?" he breathed, eyes wide.
There was no door between the two spaces. The last room was a flooded prison, nearly drowning him—yet this one was perfectly dry, as if untouched.
"Arrgh…" he muttered, clutching his chest. "This is really creeping me out…"
He stepped in cautiously.
Then—grrrrk.
A sharp grinding sound echoed behind him.
"Eeeh?!"
He jumped and spun around, only to find the entrance sealed off. The stone had shifted—there was no way back.
"The cube must've moved again..." he whispered. "Tch…"
He turned back toward the dark hallway ahead.
But now... something felt wrong.
His heart quickened. His breathing grew shallow.
"Something's off."
The air shifted. He could feel it—thick and heavy with anti-tenzen. A faint pressure clawed at his skin.
He kept walking.
Sweat trickled down his neck.
Every step forward made his limbs feel lighter—like something was pulling his soul out of sync with his body.
His thoughts scattered. His muscles twitched.
"Ah… ah…"
His breath turned ragged.
Then—he saw it.
There was a turn ahead, a corner vanishing into shadow.
"A dead end?" he murmured, voice tight.
He swallowed hard.
"Nothing could go wrong," he whispered, forcing a shaky breath as he approached.
"Nothing could go wrong..."
He kept repeating it—like a charm, like a lie.
"Nothing could go…"
He turned the corner.
And what he saw made the words die in his throat.
"B-blood?" Code's voice trembled as his eyes locked onto the dark, viscous liquid pooling near his feet.
It was thick and red—almost unnaturally so—reflecting faintly on the floor's surface like a dark mirror.
His breath hitched. Heart pounding wildly in his chest, he struggled to steady himself as the room seemed to shift and twist around him. The walls bent, the floor lurched beneath his feet.
He staggered forward, gripping the wall for support.
The cold, wet sensation on his palm made his skin crawl. His eyes snapped to the wall—and froze.
A thick, dark spray stained the surface, glistening ominously in the dim light.
Code gasped, stumbling backward as panic surged through him, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.
"What's… happening?" he whispered, clutching his throbbing temples as nausea churned deep inside.
Then, something stopped him.
His leg collided with something.
He tried to push forward again, but it held him back.
Slowly, his gaze dropped—from the stained wall, to the floor.
As he saw this, his heart skipped a beat.
Bodies, bones, visceral pieces. Brutalized, battered, scattered and destroyed beyond recognition. There was no other suitable word to describe this gory sight than a nightmare.
Code's breath hitched; his knees weakened.
His couldn't hold it any more.
He doubled over, vomiting harshly onto the cold floor.
He covered his face, overwhelmed by the oppressive weight of it all.
The stench of iron and decay filled the air, clawing at his senses.
Dizziness hit like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under as the room spun relentlessly.
His hands slipped from the wall.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.
Code collapsed to the ground. The pressure in his chest was unbearable—the images, the pain, the dread—they stormed through his mind like a wave. His vision blurred. The air thickened, his skin slick with sweat.
Something inside him twisted. It was as if his very soul was being peeled apart, strand by strand.
Then, just like that, the world shifted.
He suddenly found himself back in the recurring dream—the one that haunted him for days. He stood alone in the center of a vast crimson sea, the liquid surface stretching endlessly in all directions.
"Am I… dead?" he whispered, staring down at his palms. For a moment, an odd calm embraced him.
Ripple. Ripple.
A disturbance stirred the sea in the distance, sending slow, wide ripples toward him.
"...Huh?" Code muttered, lifting his gaze.
As he looked up, the world began to dissolve—the sea, the sky—all of it gave way to the previous reality. His feet sank into the familiar floor once more. But something had changed.
Two legs stood in front of him. Still. Silent.
Code's breath hitched. The pants were black... stained. Familiar. His eyes traced slowly upward.
A black windbreaker jacket. Identical to his own.
His heart pounded.
"No way..."
He didn't want to finish the thought. But when his eyes met the figure's face—or rather, where the face should have been—he froze.
It was him.
But the head was gone.
"Urgh..." Code staggered back, a cold weight settling in his stomach.
The headless version of himself dropped lifelessly to the ground beside him with a dull thud.
Then came a voice.
"Aww..."
Code's eyes snapped toward the sound.
A figure stood a few feet away, cloaked in shadow. It held something in its grasp—something round, and dripping.
It was his head.
"How did you survive that?" the creature rasped, its voice like wind scraping stone.
***
TBC