Rio opened his eyes into a world of absolute blackness.
There was no sky above him, no earth beneath him, no wind, no scent, no sound. The darkness was not merely the absence of light—it felt alive, dense and oppressive, as though he had awakened inside the throat of some ancient creature.
For several seconds, he could do nothing but breathe.
Slowly.
Unevenly.
His thoughts came back in broken fragments.
"Where… am I?"
The words vanished the moment they left his lips.
No echo answered him.
No sound returned.
A strange unease crept into his chest.
"What was I doing?"
He pressed a hand to his temple and searched through the fog inside his mind.
A stage.
Lights.
People watching.
Then—
"The speech…"
His eyes widened slightly.
"Speech?"
Another memory surfaced.
"I was giving a speech."
Then another.
"Apex."
Yes.
He had become the Apex of the first years.
The moment that realization settled, the darkness before him cracked like glass struck by an unseen hammer. Thin lines of pale blue spread through the void, branching wider and wider until a glowing screen descended from above.
Its letters were sharp, mechanical, emotionless.
[Synchronization 25%]
Rio stared at it.
"Synchronization…?"
The word stirred an old memory.
He had seen it before.
Back in the laboratory.
During the moments when he had begun losing control of himself.
At the time, he had dismissed it as nonsense. A random notification. Something irrelevant.
Now, standing in this place, it no longer felt irrelevant.
The darkness trembled once more.
Then it peeled away.
Warm sunlight flooded the world.
The smell of grass and spring air replaced the suffocating void. Rio blinked as a vast green field stretched around him beneath a bright blue sky. Laughter rang nearby—pure, youthful laughter untouched by suffering.
He turned.
A child ran through the grass barefoot, silver hair shining under the sun, crimson eyes full of life.
Rio's breath caught.
"That's…"
It was him.
Rio Valen.
As a child.
The young boy chased someone ahead of him, giggling as he ran. Rio followed his gaze and saw a taller figure moving through the field.
Yet the figure was wrong.
Its body was covered in shadow, as if the memory itself refused to reveal who the person was. The outline was human, slightly older, broad-shouldered perhaps, but every feature had been swallowed by blackness.
The child lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the figure's waist.
"Big brother! I caught you again!"
The shadowed man laughed warmly.
"Haha, Rio, you seem to have gotten faster."
The child beamed with pride.
"Well anyways," the man said, placing a hand on the boy's head, "let's head inside. The maids are probably worried sick about you."
Young Rio puffed his cheeks in protest.
"But I wanna play more."
"Maybe some other time."
He patted the boy's head gently.
The scene was warm.
Tender.
Painfully ordinary.
Then it shattered.
The sky split apart like paper torn in two.
Sunlight drained away.
The grass blackened and curled.
The laughter died.
In its place stood a room.
Dark.
Small.
Silent.
Rio's younger self sat on the floor beside a bed, knees pulled close, face buried in his arms.
He was shaking.
At first Rio thought it was anger.
Then he heard it.
Crying.
Soft, hopeless sobbing—the kind made by someone who had learned no one would come if they screamed.
"What happened to him…?"
The boy slowly lifted his head.
His cheeks were wet.
His crimson eyes were swollen from tears.
Then, without a word, he reached beside the bed and picked up a knife.
Rio froze.
"…What are you doing?"
The younger self smiled.
It was not a child's smile.
It was wrong.
Too slow.
Too wide.
A smile stretched across despair until it became something monstrous.
"No…"
The knife rose.
Then plunged into the first eye.
A wet crunch echoed through the room.
Blood spilled down his face.
Yet the child did not scream.
He laughed.
A ragged, broken laugh that trembled through the darkness like rusted metal scraping bone.
The knife rose again.
The second eye burst beneath it.
Rio stumbled backward, nausea surging through him.
The child's face became a mask of blood and hollow sockets.
Still—
He laughed harder.
Then the eyeless child turned.
And looked directly at Rio.
My breath stopped.
"N-no…"
The child rose to his feet.
The knife dragged across the floor as he walked, each scrape setting Rio's teeth on edge.
Step.
Scrape.
Step.
Scrape.
"Stop…"
Rio tried to move.
His body refused.
His legs would not answer.
His throat tightened until breathing became agony.
The child stopped inches away.
Blood dripped steadily onto Rio's shoes.
He tilted his head in curiosity.
Then raised the knife.
"N-no, don't…"
For the first time in years, fear stripped Rio bare.
"Please."
The blade came down.
SLICE
Pain unlike anything he had known tore through his skull.
White.
Blinding.
Absolute.
Rio's scream ripped through the darkness like something being torn apart alive.
"AAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!"
He clawed at his face, nails scraping skin, fingers trembling as warm blood flooded through them. His body convulsed violently, collapsing to the floor as he thrashed like a beast caught in fire.
The agony did not stop.
It dug deeper.
Past flesh.
Past nerve.
Into the marrow of his existence.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH! MAKE IT STOP! STOP! STOPPPPP—!"
His throat shredded itself with each cry.
His voice cracked into raw animal sounds.
Still, somewhere beyond the pain—
Beyond the darkness—
Beyond reason itself—
The child laughed.
——
Rio's eyes snapped open.
He lunged upright so violently that the bed frame screeched against the floor.
"NOOO—!"
His voice tore out of him raw and ragged, chest heaving as sweat poured down his face. His hands flew instinctively to his eyes, fingers trembling as they searched for wounds that were no longer there.
They were intact.
Warm.
Whole.
Yet the pain still lingered in phantom traces.
"Hey—calm down."
A familiar voice cut through the panic.
Rio's head jerked to the side.
Leon—no, Nick in public—sat beside the bed in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. For once, the man's usual grin was absent. His eyes were narrowed, genuine concern hidden beneath irritation.
"What the hell happened to you?"
Rio tried to answer, but his breathing was still uneven. Each inhale felt shallow, as though part of him remained trapped in that black world.
"I…"
He forced himself to slow down.
In.
Out.
Again.
The pounding in his chest gradually steadied.
"…Nothing."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"It was just a nightmare."
Leon studied him in silence.
"And the reason you fainted during the speech?"
Rio looked away.
"I was tired, I suppose."
He let out a dry laugh.
"I seem to have been pushing myself a bit harder these days."
It was a lie.
A poor one.
Leon knew it immediately.
Rio could tell from the slight narrowing of those golden eyes.
But after a moment, Leon merely sighed and stood.
"Well, anyways, the ballroom went into chaos once you collapsed."
He stretched lazily, hands above his head.
"You're currently in the academy infirmary."
"I see."
"You've also been asleep for two days."
Rio blinked.
"Two days?"
"Classes already started." Leon smirked. "Impressive. You became Apex and skipped the first few classes."
Rio clicked his tongue.
Leon moved toward the door.
"I'll inform Elena that you're fine."
"Get some rest."
Rio nodded slowly.
"Understood."
Leon paused at the doorway.
Then, without turning around, he spoke in a quieter tone.
"If it happens again…"
His voice lost its teasing edge.
"Tell me."
Before Rio could respond, he left.
The room fell silent.
Rio sat still for several moments, listening to the faint hum of the infirmary lamps. Then he rose from the bed and walked toward the mirror fixed beside a cabinet.
His reflection stared back.
White hair.
Pale face.
Crimson eyes.
Normal.
He leaned closer.
"My eyes…"
They were fine.
No wounds.
No blood.
No hollows carved by a knife.
"W-what the hell was that?"
The reflection smiled.
Rio froze.
The smile was not his.
His reflection's body shrank.
Its features softened.
Its face became younger.
A child with silver hair and crimson eyes stood inside the mirror, grinning with lips stretched too wide.
Rio stumbled backward so hard he crashed to the floor.
"N-not again…"
The child placed a palm against the inside of the glass.
Then began to step forward.
A hand.
A shoulder.
As though the mirror were liquid.
Rio's body locked in terror.
Then—
"Um…"
A timid voice sounded from the doorway.
"What are you doing?"
The vision shattered instantly.
Rio whipped his head toward the mirror.
It was normal.
Only his own stunned reflection remained.
At the entrance stood a small woman in a nurse's uniform, blinking at him in confusion. She looked barely older than a student, her round glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.
Rio swallowed.
"Y-you didn't see that?"
"See what, mister?"
She tilted her head.
He stared at her for a moment, then forced himself upright.
"…Nothing."
He dusted himself off.
"Are you a nurse here?"
Her expression brightened immediately.
"Yes!"
"I was asked to inform you that your medical leave ends today and you are required to attend classes starting tomorrow."
She rummaged through a pouch and produced a silver keycard.
"This is your dorm room key."
Rio accepted it.
"I see. Thank you."
She beamed.
"Good luck, Mister Apex!"
Rio blinked, then gave a faint awkward smile.
"…Ah. Thanks."
As she left, his eyes drifted once more toward the mirror.
This time—
It did not smile back.