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Silence ensues.

The child looked at me with tear-filled eyes, and I said nothing.

“…”

With a trembling expression, the child gazed at me, and then—

Whack!

They kicked my shin with their tiny foot.

Of course, it didn’t hurt at all.

After all, they weren’t even trying hard.

“Why did you do that?”

They met my gaze with a look that felt almost mocking.

No, more than mocking, it was—

“…”

Resignation.

Is this the expression of someone facing an inescapable disaster?

Desiring to flee but unable to do so, left to either be swept away by the catastrophe or witness others perish.

Honestly, I couldn’t say why she wore such a face.

But my answer was already set.

“Because this is the right choice.”

Ultimately, it was no different from a gamble, but the option to kill everyone to survive simply did not exist for me.

I didn’t want to live like that, and I had no confidence in killing others with my own hands.

“…”

Her expression upon hearing my words was—

“Always.”

“Huh?”

“Always, that’s how you’ve been.”

She wore an utterly sorrowful expression.

“You never step up first, but when it comes to what you need to do, you throw yourself in headfirst.”

“…”

“But the world always gives you a lot to handle.”

Keeping the expression no child should have, she continued speaking.

“I don’t ask for much.”

She sighed like a lament.

“Maybe that was too much to ask for.”

“…”

She had lived a life so long it was hard to count.

Listening to her sigh, I opened my mouth as well.

“What about trials?”

“…”

“Just break through the trials.”

“Right. That’ll work.”

The child smiled and nodded.

“Even now, if someone is suffering, instead of comforting them, you try to tackle their problems first.”

“…”

“But don’t overdo it. You might get hurt if you don’t speak up.”

She smiled a hollow smile as if seeing right through me.

“Hang in there.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

Honestly, I felt like she could come along.

At my words, her eyes widened slightly.

“I’ve never said anything like this before…”

She muttered something under her breath in a small voice.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

She shook her head.

“Going together isn’t a problem, but I can only watch from the side. I might just be able to chat with you, is that okay?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

If we’re only talking, isn’t that already perfect?

Having learned a thing or two through various experiences, I realized that merely having someone to talk to provides quite a bit of emotional support.

As I gazed at her with a puzzled expression, she looked around and then nodded.

“As long as you call me, I’m happy.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Yeah.”

She smiled gently.

*

Tap… Tap…

I walk through my old hometown.

Nothing in this world has changed.

No, there was just one difference.

I looked at the sign in front of me.

The number 3.

What does that mean?

“But.”

“Yeah?”

“What exactly are we doing?”

“…Right. Having you here means I can explain it.”

Hope’s light flickered in her eyes.

The child opened her mouth to speak.

“………Hey.”

“What?”

“………I said.”

The child’s lips moved but made no sound.

“I can’t hear you.”

“…Ah. I see.”

Again, despair filled her expression.

“It seems I can’t do anything here but make noise.”

“Is that so?”

Then there’s nothing we can do.

“I’m sorry for not being of help.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Anyway, it was called a trial. If help from others came so easily, I would have ended things before I even arrived here.

I continued to walk, taking in my surroundings as we strolled through the old neighborhood.

Thinking back, memories flooded back.

As always, in the dark, the child reached out.

With words not to fear the dark.

Those words came back to me again.

But why did they say not to fear the dark?

Our parents were oddly overprotective of children.

If my memory serves me, as the sun set, my mother, father, or even my younger sister would come to fetch me.

Then the child would smile and let me go.

But why did I need to enter the dark as a child?

Whoosh!

The scenery I was walking through seemed to flip upside down.

“…”

Darkness enveloped me.

“You’ve come.”

Muttering in pain, the child gazed ahead.

“This place is where you… are.”

“I can’t hear you properly.”

“I see.”

The child sighed and closed her eyes.

We moved forward.

The darkness thickened.

I recalled the priest I had seen.

What had happened to the translucent window then?

I thought back to the priest’s translucent window.

[Name: Priest]

[Age: X]

[Specialty: Repentance]

[Talent: Rumination]

Rumination.

Ultimately, all that meant I was ruminating on something.

Jang Chae Yeon had said she also had a terrible dream.

If what I face now is a trial…

I desperately tried to recall.

There surely existed a day I feared moving forward in the dark.

It was when the child beside me reached out, saying the dark was nothing to fear.

Yet, I couldn’t remember that situation.

“You won’t remember.”

And then she, who had been looking at me with deeply furrowed brows, spoke up.

“I thought there was someone who wouldn’t consider it a good memory for you back then.”

“Who was it?”

“…Hey.”

As expected, I didn’t catch it.

“Anyway, my current self…”

She raised her hand as if thinking about something.

No, at least I thought she had raised her hand.

“Can’t you see?”

The moment she lifted her hand, it seemed to vanish like a mosaic.

Even her fingers.

“I can’t see.”

“I figured that would happen.”

Sighing, she walked alongside me again.

We tread deeper into the darkness.

Slowly, just as I was becoming accustomed to the dark.

Come here!

A hazy voice floated through the air.

Like my mother’s voice but distorted by noise.

It’s time to eat!

The voice came again.

Where are you!

“…”

The voice of my mother from when I was a child echoed back to me.

The child looked at me anxiously.

“…..what?”

“I can’t hear.”

The child closed her eyes tightly in response to my words.

Just in case, I looked at her lips, but they oddly seemed to be mosaic-ed too.

Let’s move on for now.

That voice certainly isn’t my mother calling for me.

I continued walking.

A dark tunnel appeared.

Something vaguely felt familiar, yet equally not.

I furrowed my brow, falling deep into thought, but something seemed to force my focus away from it.

As my blurry memories suggested, I passed through this tunnel with the child beside me on our way home.

Was it that easy?

Then this isn’t a trial.

I glanced back.

Only black darkness welcomed me back.

Should I turn back?

But would returning bring about any change for me?

As soon as I took a step back—

Whoosh…

A ghastly sound reverberated, and I halted right in my tracks.

I instinctively sensed I couldn’t turn back.

“…”

“It’s okay.”

The child looked at me and took my hand.

There was no warmth. It wasn’t cold either, but…

“I’ll be right here.”

Her expression as she spoke those words seemed like someone who had already foreseen the end.

*

We walked inside the tunnel.

“Come to think of it, I’m reminded of the words you told me in this tunnel.”

“…You remember that?”

She looked up at me.

“Don’t fear the dark, you told me.”

“…”

She slowly nodded at my words.

“Back then, I wondered why I was so scared of the dark.”

“…”

Whoosh…

I looked at the hand we held, then to the front.

“I can see why I would naturally be afraid.”

The end of the tunnel wasn’t an exit.

Now, there was a dark void where absolutely nothing could be seen, and—

Whoosh…

The eerie sound grew closer.

There’s no choice.

I stepped into the dark.

Now even the sound of my footsteps had vanished.

Whoosh…

I tightened my grip on her hand and increased my pace.

Looking to the side, I couldn’t even see the child holding my hand, much less my own hand, in this dark.

How had I escaped somewhere like this?

“Gasp… Gasp…”

At this point, I was running through the darkness while holding her hand.

Whoosh…!

The noise was reaching me even closer now.

The sensation in my legs was fading away.

My vision was dropping lower.

Dropping lower, really?

Thud!

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I tripped and stumbled awkwardly on the ground, flailing about.

I quickly turned to look at my legs.

“Stop.”

Before I could say more, something wrapped around my head, obscuring my sight.

“…Don’t look.”

The child murmured, seeming to pull me in closer.

“There’s nothing good to see.”

It felt just right calling it a clenching grip; she pulled me in even closer as she continued murmuring.

“It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

The sensation faded even more.

“It’s okay. You can do this.”

Doubt seeped into her voice.

It wasn’t distrust against me but rather the voice of someone who foresees the outcome of this situation.

“…You will, this time.”

Her words felt more like she was telling herself than me.

The feeling in my upper body disappeared.

Soon, even the sensation in my hands faded.

“…”

I tried to say something, but words wouldn’t come out.

“It’s okay. I’ll always be here. Don’t be scared—”

The sound drowned out, and soon my vision vanished.

Finally, I disappeared.

*

“…”

I opened my eyes.

In the dark, I was alone.

I felt around, but the texture of the manual was nowhere to be found.

Where had she gone?

I looked ahead.

A sign stood there.

I recalled the sign I had seen earlier.

The number 3.

And after failing, now it was 2.

I still had two chances left.

Come here!

The distorted voice reached my ears.