Tina sat quietly, her expression contemplative as she flexed her pale fingers.

They were once the warm, living hands of a human woman.

Now, they were cold and lifeless, the hands of the undead. She sighed softly, glancing at Zach, who was slumped against the gnarled black tree beside her. His claymore sword remained upright, its tip buried in the strange, obsidian-like soil.

Zach had fallen asleep some time ago, his breathing steady and undisturbed despite the oppressive atmosphere of this eerie place.

Tina muttered to herself, her voice barely audible.

"I wonder if there's a way. And are we really trapped here? Forever?"

Her words hung in the air, unanswered and heavy.

She leaned back against the tree, her gaze wandering upward to the blood-red sky. Then, as if seeking a distraction, she turned her attention to their surroundings.

The tree they rested under wasn't like any she'd seen before.

Its bark gleamed like polished stone, cold and unyielding to the touch. She reached out and snapped off a small twig, inspecting it closely. She ran her fingers along its surface, then brought it to her nose, sniffing cautiously.

"It's more like obsidian than wood," she mused aloud.

"And the smell, it's awful. Like charred flesh mixed with something rotten."

She paused, turning the twig over in her hands.

"I wonder if everything here has a meaning, or if they'll all stay unknown until the end."

Her gaze drifted back to Zach. He looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone in this cursed realm. His dark hair fell over his face, and his hands remained firm on the hilt of his sword even in sleep.

Tina stood and dusted herself off, glancing down at him with a faint smile.

"Captain of the Renaissance Band," she murmured.

"A human, yet you've proven yourself capable of surviving here longer than anyone could've expected. No abnormal abilities, no unnatural strength, just pure resilience. That's amazing. Truly amazing."

Almost as if he'd heard her, Zach stirred. His eyes fluttered open, his grip on the claymore faltering for a moment before he caught it again. He blinked up at her, disoriented.

Tina smirked.

"Morning, Zach. Or well, it's not really morning here since there's no sun. But you're awake now, so good enough."

Zach rubbed his eyes, still shaking off the grogginess.

"Oh, Tina. You've been watching me?"

She shrugged.

"Kind of. You've been out for hours. I didn't have much else to do. As if I'd let you stay out here alone anyway."

Zach muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Hmm."

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Tina fiddled with the twig in her hands, her mind churning with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"Zach."

He glanced up at her, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What?"

She hesitated for a moment before asking.

"What's it like being human?"

Zach blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"That's a sudden question. Why do you ask? Weren't you human once?"

"I was," Tina replied quietly.

"But I think I'm forgetting what it's like. It's been so long since I became undead. So long since I felt alive. For years, I just watched. Observed. I stayed in the shadows, never helping, never protecting anyone. And now, suddenly, I'm here. Fighting alongside you all. It feels strange. Like I don't belong."

Zach studied her face, noting the vulnerability she rarely showed. Tina stared at her hand again, flexing her fingers as if trying to remember what it felt like to truly live.

"I feel like I'm not doing the right thing," she admitted.

"Like I'm lost. Like I don't even know who I am anymore."

Zach leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the hilt of his claymore. He took a deep breath, his voice calm and steady.

"It sounds like you're struggling with yourself," he said.

"But struggles like that, they're not permanent. They only feel endless when you stand still. The trick is to keep moving forward. One step at a time, even if you don't know where you're going yet. You don't have to have all the answers now. Just keep going, and eventually, things will start to make sense."

Tina blinked, his words sinking in.

They weren't grand or overly philosophical, but they carried a quiet wisdom that resonated deeply with her. She nodded slowly.

"Keep moving forward," she repeated.

"Okay. I can do that."

Zach stood, stretching his arms before gripping his claymore again. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the last remnants of sleep.

"So," he said with a faint smile.

"Are you ready to venture into the unknown again? I'm feeling fully recovered now."

Tina crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful.

"I still have a question."

Zach raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? What's on your mind?"

"Those two," she said, her tone sharpening.

"They were your enemies. So why did you tell them everything so quickly? All that information. You never know if you're the only one affected by it. Why take that risk?"

Zach smirked faintly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief.

"Trust has nothing to do with it," he said.

"In a place like this, knowledge isn't something you hoard, it's a weapon. By telling them what I know, I control the narrative. If I keep it to myself, I lose that control. Sometimes, showing your cards isn't a weakness. It's strategy."

Tina stared at him, her mind racing as she processed his words.

"So you're not trusting them. You're guiding them?"

"Exactly," Zach replied.

"Information isn't just power, it's influence. If they're enemies, I'd rather have them moving in a direction I choose than acting on their own. Whether they know it or not."

Tina let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head.

"You really are something. A human, but not just any human."

Zach smiled faintly, adjusting his claymore on his shoulder.

"Come on. Let's get moving. Who knows what's waiting for us out there?"

Tina followed him, her thoughts lingering on his words.

Tina and Zach walked side by side through the endless, shadowy expanse of the Eye's dimension.

They'd been walking for some time now, their earlier silence broken occasionally by Tina's quiet observations about the eerie trees or the unsettling quiet of the land.

But this time, her thoughts wandered elsewhere.

She glanced at Zach, who seemed lost in his own mind, his expression distant, his eyes heavy with something more than exhaustion.

"Zach."

He blinked and turned to her, his voice calm.

"What is it, Tina?"

She hesitated, her tone soft but curious.

"You're a warrior, right? And not just any warrior. You're a rebel, a special one. A rebel who's fought against the seven kingdoms. Aurelia, Solaria, Drakonium, Elysium, Sun Ridge, Aetheria, Celestria. That's amazing. Not just physically, but mentally, too. How you can survive and keep fighting, day after day, despite being outnumbered and outmatched. It's amazing. Just amazing."

Zach's steps slowed slightly, and a faint, bitter smile touched his lips. He looked ahead, not meeting her gaze, as if her words stirred something buried deep within him.

His eyes grew tired, the weight of her observation seeming to settle on his shoulders.

"Tiring," he muttered.

"It's tiring. I started when I was just a kid. A very small kid. A kid who thought the world was some kind of fantasy. Something grand, full of wonder and adventure. But then reality hit me, and it hit hard."

Tina said nothing, sensing he wasn't done.

"I was a kid," Zach continued, his voice quieter now.

"Too small to even hold a sword properly, but I did it anyway. I had no choice. Back then, the world wasn't fair, it still isn't. The seven kingdoms, they crushed anyone who stood in their way. And the people? They were just surviving. Barely. Living under the weight of kings who cared more about their crowns and gold than the people they were supposed to protect. Someone had to fight back. Someone had to do something."

He let out a long breath, gripping the hilt of his claymore tightly.

"So I did. I started gathering others. Kids, really. Not much older than me. They were desperate, angry, hungry for change. Just like I was. And we fought together. Even when we were too young to understand what war really was."

Zach's voice cracked slightly, though he quickly swallowed it down. His free hand curled into a fist.

"We were kids. Kids holding weapons, not to protect ourselves but to kill. To kill anyone who stood in our way. We weren't protecting anything, we were destroying. Because that's what war does. It doesn't care how old you are or why you're fighting. It just consumes you. And us? We were consumed before we even knew what it meant to live."

Tina's gaze softened, her undead heart aching for him in a way she hadn't felt in years.

"You were forced to grow up too fast," she said quietly.

"No childhood, no time to dream or play. Just the weight of a world that didn't care. And yet, you carried it anyway."

Zach nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"We didn't have a choice. None of us did. But looking back now, I wonder if it was worth it. All that fighting, all that bloodshed. We killed to stop killing. We destroyed to end destruction. And for what? A world that keeps spinning the same way, with the same problems, the same pain. It doesn't make sense. But if we didn't fight, who would? How could anyone live through a life like that without trying to change it?"

Tina stopped walking for a moment, letting his words settle in the air. She reached out and touched his arm lightly, her expression filled with something close to sorrow.

"You're a tired warrior," she said softly.

"Not just in your body, but in your soul. You've carried so much, for so long. You've fought battles no one should have to fight. You've bled, you've lost, and yet you keep going. You're not just amazing, you're incredible. It's okay to feel tired. It's okay to wonder if it was all worth it."

Her words hung between them, and Zach finally turned to look at her. His gaze was heavy with emotion, though he didn't let it show beyond his tired eyes.

He held up his free hand, the calloused skin rough and scarred from years of wielding his sword.

"These hands," he said quietly.

"Have been holding this claymore since I was seven years old. Seven. Can you even imagine that? A kid, barely old enough to understand the world, holding a weapon like this. And not just holding it. Using it. Killing with it."

Tina stared at his hand, her eyes lingering on the thick, weathered skin, the faint lines of old scars.

"Even now," Zach continued, his voice growing softer.

"I'm still tired. Tired as hell. Fighting, fighting, fighting. For the sake of those who fight against us. The duality of it all, right? I fight for peace, and yet I bring war wherever I go. It's... exhausting."

Tina's voice trembled slightly as she replied.

"You've given so much of yourself to a world that doesn't deserve you. And yet, you keep going. That's what makes you special, . You're not just fighting for yourself, you're fighting for everyone. Even the ones who can't see it. Even the ones who don't deserve it."

Zach looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed and adjusted the claymore on his shoulder.

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just stubborn. Either way, we've got to keep moving. Let's go."

Tina nodded, falling into step beside him again. But as they walked, she couldn't shake the heaviness of his words, the quiet sadness in his voice. And she vowed, silently, to do whatever she could to ease the burden he carried—even if it was just by walking beside him in this endless, unknown land.

The landscape stretched out before them like a grim tapestry of death.

Thousands of corpses littered the blackened ground, their lifeless forms twisted and broken in ways that told stories of a brutal and violent end. Above them, crows circled ominously, their harsh cries echoing through the stillness. The air carried a stench of iron and decay, mingling with the faint sulfuric tang of the Eye's dimension.

Zach and Tina halted their steps, their attention drawn to the grotesque scene. Tina's gaze swept across the carnage, her expression a mixture of curiosity and unease.

"What's this?"

Zach's eyes scanned the battlefield, sharp and calculating.

"A massacre," he said flatly.

"No doubt about it."

He moved forward, his boots crunching against the ground, and knelt beside one of the corpses—a soldier clad in the distinct armor of Drakonium. The metal plates were dented and bloodstained, the body within unnaturally contorted.

Zach muttered, running his fingers over the blood-soaked earth near the corpse.

"This looks fresh."

Tina echoed, stepping closer.

"Fresh?"

"Yes. These men haven't been dead long. Look at the blood, it hasn't clotted fully. The crows are still circling, and only now are they starting to land. That means these soldiers were killed recently. Someone, or something, was here not long before us."

Tina crouched beside him, her pale hands brushing over another corpse.

"You think it's the stone statues? It doesn't seem like they're just targeting us. Maybe they're killing anyone unlucky enough to be dragged into this place."

Zach's brow furrowed, his gaze hardening.

"Maybe, but the way these men were killed doesn't fit the statues' usual methods."

He moved to another body, this one a man with gaping holes punctured through his chest and abdomen. The edges of the wounds were sharp and clean, unlike the jagged tears left by the statues' claws.

Zach's sharp eyes darted over every detail—the angle of the wounds, the way the blood had spilled, and the positioning of the body.

He moved to another corpse, then another.

One man had holes drilled into his arms and mouth, while another bore similar wounds in his torso. Each one told a story, and Zach pieced it together with the precision of a seasoned investigator.

Tina watched him with a mix of admiration and curiosity.

"Analyzing, are we?"

"Yes," Zach replied without looking up.

"If we're going to survive this place, we need to understand what, or who, we're dealing with. Every detail matters."

For a while, Zach said nothing, his focus unbroken as he examined corpse after corpse. His movements were methodical, almost surgical, as he pieced together the grim puzzle before him.

Finally, he stood, his expression grave.

"It's not the statues," he said firmly.

"The way these men were killed, it doesn't match. The statues claw and tear with savage, erratic movements. Their kills are messy, brutal, almost animalistic. But this, this was precise. Deliberate. The wounds are clean, straight, and deep. Whoever did this used something pointed, something meant for stabbing. A spear, most likely."

He gestured toward the corpses with a sharp nod.

"Notice how some of them tried to shield themselves, their arms are pierced straight through. This wasn't a slaughter out of blind rage; it was efficient. Each strike was meant to kill in a single blow, nothing wasted. The precision and speed required to do this, it's almost inhuman."

Tina raised an eyebrow.

"So, not the statues. That's almost worse. What does that mean for us?"

"It means we're not just up against the statues," Zach said grimly.

"We're up against a man. And not just any man. A dangerous one. Think about it. To kill this many soldiers, alone, without strategy or ambush. It takes more than skill. It takes monstrous strength and raw brutality. Whoever this man is, he's far more dangerous than the statues."

He knelt again, his gloved fingers brushing against the ground. His eyes narrowed as he muttered to himself, piecing together the scene.

"This wasn't a battle. It was a slaughter. He didn't just defeat them. He annihilated them. No hesitation, no mercy. A one-sided massacre."

Zach stood slowly, his voice quieter now, as if speaking more to himself.

"Out of all the warriors I've known, even Gargeal would pale in comparison to this."

Tina tilted her head, her curiosity growing.

"So, what do we do?"

Zach's sharp gaze swept over the field, searching for something. He began to move, his steps deliberate, his eyes scanning the ground. At first, there was nothing—only blood and bodies. But then, just beyond the edge of the massacre, he spotted it: a single footprint, soaked in blood.

He said, pointing.

"Here."

Tina leaned in, examining the print.

"Wow. It's really just one person. You truly are smart. But what are we supposed to do with a footprint?"

Zach straightened, his expression distant, as if wrestling with a thought he wasn't ready to share.

"I have to confirm something. If this man is who I think he is, then this is all unexpected. I never thought he'd be with Ybael. Out of all the kingdoms, he'd be with Drakonium. But if he's really here, then—"

Tina prompted, her voice soft but insistent.

"Then?"

Zach hesitated, then spoke slowly.

"Then I can talk to him. He might help us. He might be the ally we need to find the others. We'll have no trouble searching for the others if he'll be our ally."

Tina shrugged, her tone light despite the heaviness of the moment.

"I won't bother arguing with you. You're smarter and more logical than me anyway. Let's move."

Zach nodded.

"Right. Let's move."

As they began to follow the trail of footprints, the crows finally descended, their black wings blotting out patches of the crimson sky.

They landed on the corpses in droves, their beady eyes glinting with hunger. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones filled the air as the birds began to feast, their cries mingling with the grotesque symphony of death.

Tina glanced back at the scene, her undead features calm but thoughtful.

"They don't waste time, do they?"

Zach didn't reply, his focus entirely on the trail ahead.

But the image of the carnage, of the thousands of lifeless bodies being devoured by the scavengers of this cursed land, stayed with him. It was a grim reminder of the horrors they were up against, and of the dangerous man they were about to encounter.

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