Night fell heavy over the Forest of Tianyu, as if the air itself had thickened.The soft glow of the White Spirit Flower still drifted across the clearing, but something about it seemed weaker—or maybe it was simply Ren seeing the world through a dimmer lens.
The rest of the Guild slept. Borin snored against the anvil. Draven lay curled under his blanket, mumbling incoherently. Lyra slept near the cabin's entrance, bow in her arms, ever ready to rise at the slightest threat.
Ren tried to sleep.
But the moment his eyes shut, he sank—not into dreams, but into a dark, cold void.
There was only darkness.No ground. No sky. Nothing but an endless, suffocating space.
Then came footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Echoing through the nothingness.
He turned, but there was no source. The world shifted instead. A giant tree emerged from the void—dead, twisted, cracked. When the trunk split open, dozens of eyes formed within the hollow darkness, all of them staring straight at him.
Ren tried to step back, but his feet were trapped in something thick, like tar.
The eyes drew closer, and a lifeless voice filled the void.
"Seed."
He tried to reply, but no sound left his mouth.
"Change."
The dead tree opened further, its bark stretching like old skin. Roots slithered outward from the trunk, alive and hungry.
"Sacrifice."
Something invisible wrapped around his neck—a cold, burning grip. He gasped, but no air entered. The roots crawled onto his arms, legs, chest, squeezing, crushing.
Pain radiated through him.
The world dimmed.
Then a massive eye opened right in front of his face—the same eye from the clearing.
"You cannot protect everyone."
The roots tightened.
"Loss."
The pain sharpened.
"Pain."
Cold surged up his spine.
"And choice."
The roots squeezed his heart.
And Ren finally screamed.
It was a scream torn from the soul itself.
Lyra woke instantly.
The scream carved through the night like lightning. She sprinted inside the cabin and found Ren curled on the ground, hands digging into his chest, drenched in sweat, gasping as though he were dying.
"Ren!" she cried.
Draven stumbled awake, terrified."W-what's happening?!"
Borin rose with his hammer in hand, ready for battle.
But Lyra saw the truth first.
Ren wasn't fighting something outside.He was fighting something inside.
"Ren… Ren, look at me," she whispered, kneeling beside him.
His eyes were open, but empty. He didn't see her or the cabin. He saw something else.
His body shook violently.He tried to breathe.Failed.Tried to speak.Failed again.
Lyra cupped his face with both hands, pulling him toward her.
"Ren! It's Lyra! You're here! You're with me! Look at me!"
His hands clawed at the air as if reaching for something unseen.
"Please… stop…" he whispered, barely audible.
Lyra felt her heart shatter.
"Ren, wake up! I'm here! Please!"
She pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly, as if anchoring him to the world, preventing him from slipping into the void. The wind spiraled around them, frantic, mirroring her fear.
Ren gasped suddenly—a desperate inhale, like he had finally reached the surface after drowning.
His body collapsed against her.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was Lyra.
She stared at him with tears in her eyes—not fear, but pain from watching him suffer.
"Lyra…?" he whispered.
She pressed her forehead gently to his.
"You screamed, Ren. Your pain… I thought I was losing you."
He tried to apologize.
She didn't let him.
"Don't apologize. Just let me help."
Ren looked away.
"I don't want to drag you into this."
Lyra placed her hand on his chest—right over his heartbeat, right where the Ciclo had crushed him in the dream.
"You already dragged me. From the moment you touched my arrow."
Ren froze.
He had never thought he could mean so much to someone.Never imagined anyone would feel that for him—someone so bright, so steady, so alive.
Draven approached timidly.
"Ren… you're okay, right?"
Ren let out a weak laugh.
"I think… I am."
Borin finally lowered his hammer.
"That wasn't a normal dream, boy."
Ren knew that better than anyone.The Cycle was touching him.Pulling at him.Testing him.Trying to break him.
But when he looked at Lyra—her hand still on his chest—something anchored him.
He placed his hand over hers.
"…thank you."
She smiled—a small, tired, but real smile.
"You're not carrying this alone. Not tonight. Not ever."
For the first time since the encounter with the Cycle, Ren closed his eyes not as a leader burdened by the world, but as a boy finally allowing someone to hold him.
Lyra stayed awake for a long time after, sitting beside him, her hand still over his heart, guarding him from whatever tried to reach him again.