Lying on the ground ahead was a man dressed in a noble white uniform, its once-pristine fabric embroidered with delicate floral patterns now stained with dark, drying blood.
His white hair was disheveled, clinging to his forehead, streaked with sweat and red smears.
"Huh…?" Art muttered, narrowing his eyes as he stepped forward cautiously.
The man's face was pale, deathly still.
But his eyes
They were open.
Wide. Unblinking.
And impossibly deep.
Like an abyss.
Emery broke into a sprint and dropped to her knees beside him. "I think he's dead," she said, lightly shaking the man's shoulder.
Her personality flipped fast, Art noted internally, kneeling beside her. Just a while ago, she was trembling… what's really going on in her head?
"Let me check," he murmured, pressing two fingers to the man's neck. After a moment: "He's breathing."
Art furrowed his brow. "Although… it's strange. His eyes are wide open like he's in shock or already gone. But there's no obvious injury."
"You can tell just from that?" Emery asked, her eyes widening in admiration.
"I mean… yeah." Art pointed at the bloodstains. "This isn't his. It looks like he ran into one of those monsters from earlier. Probably fled, passed out here."
"Wow… you figured that out so fast," Emery said, blinking at him.
"Well, you need a good memory and fast thinking in this line of work," Art said, smirking.
As they talked, the man suddenly gasped awake.
"Ahhhh… Ahhh!" His breathing was ragged, chest heaving.
Art immediately crouched beside him. "Hey! Are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah…" the man managed, voice hoarse.
"What's your name?" Art's tone turned serious.
"…Aether," he said slowly. "Aether Lexoyon."
"I'm Art. This is Emery," he said, motioning beside him.
"Hi," Emery said with a small wave, studying Aether curiously.
He looks harmless… Art thought. But people who wake up like that usually aren't.
"So… what happened to you?" Art asked.
Aether looked away, his jaw tense. "I passed out. I… I had a dream. No, a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" Art echoed, glancing at Emery. Just like her…?
"Tell me about it," Art pressed gently.
"My… my sister…" Aether hesitated, then looked down. "Never mind."
Another sensitive one, Art thought. Something's not right with this place. It's not just physical traps it's mental too.
"Just tell me what happened before you collapsed here," Art asked, his voice firm but calm.
Aether looked away briefly before answering. "There was a massive creature… it attacked us. Killed a few of the people I arrived with."
"I see." Art's gaze flicked down to the bloodstains on Aether's white uniform. That explains the blood… not his.
"Did your group find any chests?" Art asked, shifting gears. "Some of them contain papers with riddles inside. Clues, maybe."
Aether shook his head. "No… we were ambushed right after spawning. It was a massacre." His voice dropped, sadness creeping in. Despite the stillness in his expression, his abyss-like eyes held quiet grief though not a single tear fell.
"I see," Art muttered, then extended his hand. "Get up."
Aether accepted the hand and slowly stood. Art helped steady him, but his mind was already spinning. Should I show him the paper? No… not yet. I still don't trust him completely.
"By the way," Aether began, brushing dust from his coat, "did you see someone else? A man in his forties… wearing ragged, low-class clothes? His outfit was filthy."
Art shook his head. "No. We're also trying to regroup. We lost our bearings a while ago."
"I see…" Aether looked disappointed. "Then… may I come with you two? I'm a noble. Once we get out of this place, I can reward you gold, coins, whatever you need."
"I'm not interested in gold," Art said without hesitation. "And neither is the woman beside me."
Emery nodded quietly in agreement.
"But sure," Art continued, "you can come with us."
Aether looked relieved. "Thank you."
"One more thing," Art said, his tone sharpening. "Do you know what triggered the creature to attack?"
"Huh? N-No… I just ran. Everyone was getting torn apart. I didn't even have the chance to scream I just ran." Aether's voice wavered slightly, filled with quiet guilt.
Art gave a cold nod. "Good. It's better you didn't scream. That thing whatever it is—targets sound. If you had screamed back then, you'd be dead now."
Aether looked down, processing that chilling truth.
People like him… they've got potential, Art thought. Didn't scream. Just ran. He didn't freeze he moved. That's a survival instinct my kind respects.
Art's lips curled into a small smirk.