Ruan's steps carried him farther from the pile of corpses where he had awakened, but the valley offered no pause for his body or his mind. The mist that had once merely hovered over the ground was now thicker, forming a heavy curtain that hung between dead trees and roots that dangled like the hair of ancient creatures that had once lived in this place. The wind made no sound, yet there was a faint current drifting from nowhere, like whispered secrets spoken by a world that did not want to be heard by humans.
Every step he took left a faint trace on the damp valley floor, and each trace vanished almost immediately, as if the valley was swallowing his existence little by little. Ruan inhaled softly, trying to keep his body upright even as his knees trembled from a weakness that had not fully faded. The dark energy flowing within him dulled some of the pain, but it did nothing to stop the severe exhaustion weighing down his limbs.
He paused beside a large stone cracked at the top. The stone appeared to have once burned from within, with fine fractures emitting a lingering warmth that should not exist in the depths of the valley. Ruan touched the stone lightly with his fingertips, trying to understand what had occurred here. But the cold seeping into his palm made him withdraw his hand reflexively.
"I must stay aware… I can't stop for too long…" he murmured as he continued walking.
The silence of the valley grew thicker as he entered a section where dead trees stood like dark sentinels. Their trunks were black and split, their leaves long gone, and their roots rose to the surface like hands reaching up in plea. Ruan walked carefully among them, feeling the hairs on his arms rise every time he passed a shadow that was too quiet.
He halted when the unmoving air suddenly shifted. There was no sound, but the air moved as though something large had just passed behind him. Ruan did not turn—did not dare to. His body stiffened and his heart beat faster, though the strange beat within his chest remained steady, as if that part of him did not care about human fear at all.
"I am… not alone…" he whispered in his mind.
He forced himself to keep walking, pushing through the thickening mist. But after a few steps, he felt something different. The world around him seemed to stop. The mist no longer moved, the air no longer flowed, and even the valley's faint whispers vanished completely. The silence was not mere quiet—it felt like the world was waiting for something.
And then he heard it.
The voice first came as a faint vibration at the edge of his hearing, almost too delicate to recognize, but strong enough to send a shiver down his spine. The voice did not come from any direction. It did not come from the front, or behind, or from the sides.
It came from everywhere—and nowhere—at the same time.
Then the voice became clearer, like someone speaking words too ancient for humans to remember.
Ruan…
Ruan stopped completely. His knees weakened, but he forced himself not to fall. His human heart raced in fear, while the strange heartbeat inside his chest remained calm and steady—as though the voice was something it had always known.
"No…" he whispered shakily. "No, impossible…"
The voice called again. Clearer. Closer. Deeper.
It flowed gently, yet held a power that made the valley tremble faintly.
Ruan…
This time he heard a faint tone within the voice. A tone that sounded like someone who had known him for a long time—not calling to frighten him, but calling him to come closer.
Ruan slowly turned his head to the left, even though he knew the voice did not come from any specific direction. "Who…" he asked with a trembling voice. "Who is calling me…"
There was no answer. But the mist before him shifted slightly, opening a narrow path that looked like a dark corridor untouched by light. Ruan swallowed hard, trying to suppress the fear surging through his mind. The path looked like a way toward something deeper—something he did not want to see, yet something he felt compelled to approach.
The voice came again as he took half a step forward.
Softer than before.
More like a whisper.
Come…
Ruan shook his head, even as his body slowly moved along the misty path. His breaths grew heavier, and he felt cold creeping from the ground into his spine. But it was not only the valley's cold. There was another sensation—one rising from inside his body, from where the strange heartbeat dwelled.
He held his chest and felt a faint vibration that matched each word spoken by the voice.
"Are you… part of me…?" he asked, voice barely audible.
But the voice answered not with words—
but with a sudden vibration inside his chest.
A vibration so gentle yet so clear, like someone knocking on the walls of his soul from within.
Ruan began walking slowly, as if his body knew the path long before his mind did. With each step, the world grew darker, but the mist retreated, opening a path only for him.
The deeper he walked, the clearer the voice became.
You have finally… come…
Ruan closed his eyes briefly. Fear stabbed at him—but there was another feeling within him. Something harder to describe. A feeling like longing from a place he could not remember.
A longing he should not have had.
"Why me…" he murmured.
The voice answered in a way that made his skin crawl.
Because you live…
Ruan froze.
His body stopped completely.
"I'm alive because… of you…?" he asked.
The voice did not answer, but the mysterious beat inside his chest thumped once—heavy and deep—making the world around him tremble ever so slightly.
As Ruan walked deeper, he saw a faint light forming at the end of the mist. It was not a living light.
It was cold and gray, like the body of the moon wrapped in shadow.
The light moved slowly, forming the silhouette of a person sitting cross-legged in the center of the valley.
Ruan halted.
His breath caught.
His waist tightened.
"There's… someone…" he whispered.
But he immediately realized—it was not an ordinary person.
The body was dry.
Skin stretched thin over bone like a fragile cloth covering a skeleton.
Its hair was long, falling like pale strands onto the ground.
Though its face was bowed, Ruan could feel an overwhelming aura around it—an aura that neither attacked nor welcomed.
An aura that called to him.
Ruan…
The silhouette seemed to breathe, despite not moving.
Ruan took a small step forward, gathered the last fragment of courage he possessed, and asked with the most trembling, honest voice he had spoken since waking in the valley:
"Who… are you…"
The mist drifted gently, brushing the frail body.
And the voice answered with a tone so soft yet filled with ancient power no human could comprehend.
I have been waiting for you… Ruan…
As the words echoed, the heartbeat inside Ruan thundered violently—so strong he had to brace himself not to collapse.