Chapter 928 |
Chapter 928
Look carefully.
What truly matters.
Frankly, Yuder's current state of mind was more inclined to wonder what exactly mattered in this situation.
Yet, the hand clad in a white glove kept writing, the same content as before but with rougher, more sluggish movements.
It was different from before, when every letter was clearly written to be easily recognizable. If Yuder had not been familiar with Kishiar's usual handwriting, calligraphy, and even the false script used for encoding secrets, he would not have been able to discern the stiffness of the movement.
Therefore, Yuder found himself compelled to ask, "Does it become difficult to move when you come here?"
“...”
The hand did not respond.
Turning his gaze once more to the distant darkness, it seemed profound and ominous. It was as if it were a pit vast enough to contain the entire world, with endlessly writhing silhouettes appearing and disappearing. The place emitted an abhorrent and fearful stench, its origin inexplicably unnoticed until that moment.
Yuder instinctively felt he should not look too long at those things, at what lay beneath. A dizzying and perilous sensation washed over him, as if he might be swallowed by that pit.
The writhing black shadows in the pit clawed over each other, building up like a tower and then collapsing like a sandcastle made of mud, only to repeat the process. Yuder shifted his gaze towards their intended destination. There, a slit barely perceptible existed.
He had glimpsed it before, but what exactly was that slit? In this place of deep and shallow darkness, only that spot seemed to reveal a different color upon closer inspection.
Focusing solely on that spot, Yuder began to discern something through the small gap. It was different from the pervasive darkness, a faint shimmering...
"...Water?"
Yes. It was water.
But not still water like that in a pond. It was more like a river... no, even more regular in its flowing and ebbing. Yuder felt he had seen something like it somewhere before. As he pondered, a glimpse of white foam caught his eye.
Water with white foam.
It was the sea.
Beyond that gap was certainly the sea Yuder knew.
Even as he stood dumbfounded in realization, the writhing entities continued to stretch towards, squeeze through, and try to break through the gap. Most collapsed, but some reached and momentarily blocked the slit. Though it was too narrow to escape through, the slit seemed slightly wider after they fell away.
It was as if the gap widened with each forced entry, torn and shattered.
No matter how narrow, the shadows filling the pit never gave up. They kept falling, climbing, scraping, all moving towards one place.
As if reaching beyond was their sole purpose.
Through the gaps, something resembling water shimmered, reflecting a brief flash of light. In that moment, Yuder was able to see the true nature of the writhing shadows within the crevice a bit more clearly.
They were eyeballs with long hairs attached. Hands with leg bones, and wings bizarrely fused with fingers and toes. Among the rustling of dried, leaf-like scales, broken teeth clattered, melting like mud over clamshells, as the creatures writhed.
All these elements entangled, biting and swallowing each other, sometimes clinging together in a desperate effort to climb even a little higher.
“...”
Yuder, who had seen many sights in his life, had never encountered such grotesqueness.
At the moment Yuder held his breath, as if warned by instinct, an eyeball with long hairs rolled and stared directly at him.
Then, a white-gloved hand grabbed Yuder's.
He turned and ran as led. An immense vibration felt at his back. In a feeling akin to being chased, he ran through the pitch darkness, unable to see even a step ahead, like a recurring nightmare.
'...Ah.'
He soon realized he was falling again.
But this fall was different from the previous ones; the white glove still clutched in Yuder's hand.
In the silent descent, only the texture of the glove in his hand and its soon-to-be-crushed firmness were distinct.
What would happen if he held onto this hand until the end?
As this thought flickered through his mind, the glove seemed to slip away from Yuder's grasp. It was as if it had read his thoughts again, just like before.
Despite trying to hold on several times, it was futile. The glove, which had until now remained in Yuder's hand on its own accord, easily loosened its entwined fingers, as if it could leave whenever it decided.
Yuder gritted his teeth.
The more the fall continued, the weaker his body became. His mind grew increasingly hazy. Unable to resist the inevitable flow, Yuder sensed the end. He struggled to keep his eyes open until the very last moment, even though it seemed futile. And just as his efforts were about to extinguish, he slowly opened his mouth, glaring at the white glove slipping completely from his hand.
"...you told me not to come."
“...”
"I'll come again."
“...”
"By any means necessary."
As his consciousness was completely engulfed in darkness, he wasn't sure if he had spoken his last words properly.
The afterimage of the white glove flickered and disappeared like a mirage in water.
—
"..."
When Yuder opened his eyes, Yuder realized he had risen at a familiar time. Dawn, when the sun was about to rise. In the dim darkness, a tranquil air floated in the bedroom. Turning his eyes while still lying down, he saw Kishiar lying beside him, embracing his body. The warmth felt from the touching limbs was comforting.
Kishiar, like Yuder, lay with bare shoulders and eyes closed, but upon sensing Yuder's gaze, he opened his eyes as if all sleep had suddenly fled.
"...Yuder?"
The familiar low voice, that call, inexplicably tore at his heart. Yuder quietly observed his face reflected in the dark red pupils. The man with black hair reflected in them lay powerlessly, his face expressionless yet incongruously wet with tears.
Yuder exhaled deeply. Then, he raised his upper body and wiped his face, only to find his palm wet with tears whose onset he couldn't pinpoint.
To him, this moisture felt like the most concrete evidence that everything he had just experienced was not a dream.
"Did something happen?"
As usual, Kishiar hadn't felt anything while Yuder dreamed of meeting the white glove. Yuder was relieved by this fact, but it also stirred complex emotions within him.
As Yuder remained silent, merely gazing at Kishiar's face, Kishiar, sensing something, refrained from asking further and gently placed his hand on Yuder's cheek. His hand, colder than usual and slightly trembling, wiped away the wetness streaking Yuder's face.
Yuder, feeling the hand caressing his face, gently lowered his eyes and leaned his head against Kishiar, seeking solace.
Just for a moment, he wanted to stay like this. Understanding his unspoken wish, Kishiar's hand paused in its motions. Then, his other hand reached out and enveloped Yuder's shoulder, drawing him close. Yuder inhaled Kishiar's scent repeatedly, as he had the night before. Kishiar's scent, usually more steady, seemed to quiver with unease, but when it reached Yuder, it wrapped around him with the same carefulness as always, ensuring nothing was provoked. In it, Yuder sensed Kishiar's willingness to wait until he was ready to speak, along with a glimpse of suppressed worry and pain.
Kishiar loved Yuder Aile.
Could anyone in the world desire and yearn for someone like Yuder to this extent?
It was an undeniable fact, even Yuder himself couldn't question.
Knowing this made the realization he came to after eliminating all other possibilities feel almost maddening. Even though it was essentially the same conclusion as before, Yuder couldn't bear the gnawing pain in his heart.
He exhaled as if to expel the pain and finally spoke.
"...I met the white gloves again."