Andrei trudged down the familiar street, the setting sun casting long shadows that mirrored the heavy weariness settling deep in his soul.
Home.
A word that felt more distant with each passing day, even as the three-story timber house with slate tiles came into view.
He pushed open the door.
"Good day, Sir Andrei," came Gustav's soft-spoken, yet formal voice, pulling Andrei from his thoughts.
"Uh... thanks," Andrei muttered, forcing a weak smile before slipping quickly into his room.
...
"Sir Andrei."
A knock followed Gustav's voice.
"Your meal is ready."
...
No answer.
"Sir Andrei."
Another knock.
Andrei curled up quietly in the corner of his room, lost in the spiral of his thoughts.
If only I'd done something...
If only I'd been faster...
Stronger...
The memory of the incident played over and over in his mind.
"Lil bro!"
A sudden bang and a loud voice echoed from outside the door.
Still, no answer.
"Sir Dimitri, please wait—"
The door crashed open.
Andrei slowly turned his head toward the noise, eyes wide with shock.
"Lil bro, I heard you've been feeling unwell."
Dimitri's scarlet hair and bright personality filled the room, his voice bubbling with lively intensity.
"What's wrong, lil bro?"
Andrei shot him a glare, his brows furrowed so deeply they seemed to form a single line.
"You broke the door."
Dimitri glanced at the shattered frame.
"Looks like I did."
He laughed heartily.
"The door was trying to keep you in. That's unforgivable."
Andrei stared at him, disbelief washing over his face, then let out a sigh.
"So... what do you want?"
"Gustav said you've been off lately, so I came to check on you."
Dimitri stepped closer.
"I heard you went to the Black region yesterday."
"So, what happened?"
Andrei looked away, his eyes fixed on the floor, his frown tightening.
"Someone... died?" Dimitri asked softly, dropping onto the bed.
His voice lost its lively edge.
"Someone died?"
Andrei stayed silent.
The room filled with heavy silence.
Dimitri leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"…Marek?"
Andrei's fingers clenched his sleeve tighter.
"…Yeah."
The word barely escaped his lips.
Dimitri exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the floor.
"The first one always hits the hardest."
Andrei's head snapped up.
"'First one'?"
His voice had a bitter edge. "You say that like it's normal."
"It is," Dimitri answered without hesitation.
Andrei froze.
Dimitri looked at him—really looked at him.
"You went in there thinking everyone comes back, didn't you? That if you tried hard enough, moved fast enough, no one dies?"
Andrei clenched his fists tighter.
"I could have done something."
"No," Dimitri said flatly.
Andrei's breath caught.
"You think you could have," Dimitri continued steadily, "and that's the difference."
Andrei looked away again. Dimitri ran a hand through his hair.
"The Black doesn't care how you feel," he said. "It doesn't care how hard you try. You hesitate, you misjudge, you get overwhelmed—people die."
His words hung heavy in the air.
"And sometimes," he added quietly, "even if you do everything right… people still die."
Andrei said nothing.
His chest tightened.
"…So what," he muttered, "I'm just supposed to accept it?"
Dimitri shook his head.
"No. You're supposed to survive it."
Silence fell again.
Then—
"You going out again tomorrow?"
Andrei hesitated.
"…Yeah."
Dimitri stood.
"Good."
Andrei frowned.
"That's it?"
"What, you want me to tell you not to go?" Dimitri shrugged. "If something like that broke you, you wouldn't have lasted this long."
He headed toward the broken doorway.
"Oh—and get some sleep. You look like hell."
Andrei didn't respond.
Dimitri paused at the doorframe.
"…Andrei."
He stopped, not turning back.
"Next time," he said, "don't fight with your head somewhere else."
Then he left.
That night, Andrei barely slept.
"Up."
A firm knock.
Andrei groaned, dragging himself upright.
"Five more minutes—"
"Now."
Dimitri stood there, already dressed.
Andrei sighed, rubbing his eyes.
"…You're annoying."
"Move."
The air at the defense line felt heavier than before.
Or maybe it was just him.
Andrei stepped onto his board, glancing at the others.
No one spoke.
Dimitri stood at the front, arms crossed.
"Listen," he said. "You're not trainees out here. No one's going to hold your hand."
His gaze landed on Andrei.
"Keep up—or get left behind."
Andrei frowned but said nothing.
"Let's move."
They entered the Black.
The pressure hit immediately.
The silence.
The distortion in the air.
"Contact!"
A creature surged from below.
Dimitri moved first.
His weapon came down in a single, crushing strike—fast, precise.
"Don't stare," he snapped.
Andrei snapped out of it, igniting his bracer.
Flames roared to life.
He moved.
This time—no hesitation.
The fight escalated fast.
One became three.
Three became ten.
The air filled with motion, heat, and shifting shadows.
Andrei fought through it—barely keeping pace.
His breathing grew uneven.
His timing—off.
His mind—drifting.
Not fast enough.
A creature slipped through.
Too close.
Andrei turned—
Too late.
A blur.
Impact.
The creature was gone.
Dimitri stood before him.
"Focus."
His voice cut through everything.
"Or get out."
Andrei clenched his jaw.
"…I am focused."
"No," Dimitri said. "You're hesitating."
Another wave approached.
"Fight."
Andrei moved again.
This time—
Clearer.
Faster.
Sharper.
He stopped thinking.
The battle dragged on.
Minutes stretched like hours.
Energy drained.
Movements slowed.
"Enough," Dimitri called.
"Pull back."
They rose.
Higher.
Away from the shifting Black below.
No one argued.
Back at the line, Andrei stepped off his board, legs unsteady.
His chest heaved.
He looked down at his hands.
They weren't shaking.
Not like before.
So this is what it feels like.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Just—
Clarity.
He looked toward the Black.
Quiet.
Still.
Endless.
I wasn't strong enough.
That hadn't changed.
But something else had.
Andrei clenched his fist. Next time…
I will be.