After the tense battle, the group paused to rest before continuing deeper into the narrow tunnels of the mine.
The sound of ragged breathing mingled with heavy footsteps, painting a picture of the remnants of a fierce fight.
They had won, but the cost was exhaustion, both physical and mental.
The sharp focus and eagerness from earlier had faded into a dull echo, replaced by a heavy weariness that clung to every movement.
The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and rusted iron. Cold moisture rose from the ground, each step echoing long into the dark passages, as if the darkness itself was swallowing them whole.
Diavel still stood firm, his back straight, his figure as steady as an unshakable pillar amidst the chaos.
He turned his head, eyes quickly scanning the faces of his comrades, those who had stood with him in the battle just passed.
Fatigue was etched into every face, shoulders sagging, eyes heavy.
But deep within those eyes still flickered a light that refused to die, the will to keep going, to press on.
Ren slumped down onto the cold stone floor, back against the mine wall, forcing each searing breath from his burning chest.
Each inhale felt like a flaming blade was piercing through his ribs.
It had been a long time since Ren had faced this feeling, a raw, grinding exhaustion gnawing at his body bit by bit after a prolonged fight without a single moment of rest.
He gripped the sword resting across his lap, his hands trembling slightly. Cold sweat soaked through his armor, seeping into every muscle fiber strained to the limit.
No one spoke. In the heavy darkness, only the sound of labored breathing remained, along with the faint clinks of metal as someone adjusted their weapon, small sounds that rang out like warning bells, heralding some unseen change.
Once Diavel felt they had rested enough, he resumed leading the way, his steps slow and cautious.
As if weighing something in his mind, but no one asked questions.
The group stopped at a deep fork in the tunnel to discuss the next path. Ren noticed that he was no longer being called upon like before.
Diavel simply leaned slightly, exchanging a few quick words with Lind and Chest, familiar names who had fought beside him in the earliest battles.
They stood close together, heads bowed in discussion, eyes occasionally flicking to the virtual map displayed from Diavel's personal menu.
A few nods. A few short sentences. The strategy was decided quickly and neatly, as if it had all been pre-planned and Ren was completely left out.
"Ren," Diavel said, his voice short and cold, like reading off a prewritten command. "Join the rear group. Hold the backline in case of an ambush from behind."
No explanation. No hesitation or concern.
The eyes that once shone with trust whenever they looked at Ren now gave only a passing glance before turning away, as if he were just a minor cog, useful but unnecessary.
Ren quietly nodded, asking nothing. He moved to the back of the formation, where the darkness grew thicker, cloaking every breath.
Each step echoed alone in the empty corridor, sinking him deeper into an invisible distance forming between him and the rest of the group.
No more calls for his input. No more looks of inquiry or trust with each decision.
Ren was no longer the one suggesting strategies, no longer the one expected to turn the tide.
All that once belonged to him, opportunity, responsibility, faith, had quietly slipped through his fingers like dust through an open hand.
Beneath the flickering torchlight, he walked in silence, carrying a heaviness more suffocating than the armor on his body.
He could still see them ahead, close, shoulder to shoulder, exchanging quick tactical notes, without needing him.
He didn't feel angry. He didn't even feel like resisting. The only emotion left was a cold, hollow emptiness.
As if he had become a nameless shadow, a silent ghost trailing behind a group he once dreamed of belonging to.
That night, the group set up camp in a wide rocky alcove, a temporary shelter within the cold heart of the mine.
The flickering fire cast twisting shadows on the rough stone walls, stretching like distorted silhouettes.
The crackling of dry firewood broke the silence in the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and rusted metal.
Ren sat apart in a corner, leaning against the cold stone wall.
With his arms wrapped around his raised knees, he stared at the flickering fire, letting the orange glow cast weary shadows across his face.
A few meters away, the rest of the group huddled around the campfire. Laughter and voices rang out, not too loud, but enough to chase away some of the biting cold that filled the mine.
Shivata was waving his arms animatedly, recounting in an overly dramatic voice how he had "faced off against three Kobolds at once" earlier that afternoon.
"I'm serious! Three of them, at the same time!" Shivata laughed loudly, flinging his hand up and almost knocking over the pot of water simmering nearby. Chest quickly caught it and shouted:
"Hey, hey! Easy! Don't kill our dinner!"
Everyone burst into laughter. Even Yuna and Nautilus chuckled, a short but genuine laugh.
Ren curled his lips, trying to smile along, but the smile was strained and twisted.
As he sat there, Yuna's gaze briefly drifted over to him. There was a moment of hesitation, then she smiled, a polite, distant smile, the kind that hurt more than any insult.
Nautilus did the same. He gave Ren a small nod, awkward and stiff.
Ren looked at them, feeling hollow.
Back then, on nights like this, Yuna would usually invite him to sit with her, asking random questions about nothing in particular.
Nautilus would chatter endlessly about silly discoveries he'd made during the day. They used to be… a small group, a quiet corner of peace in a chaotic world.
Now, he was just an outsider.
Ren clenched the hem of his shirt, his fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric. It didn't hurt. There was no sensation. Just a heaviness pressing on his chest, suffocating him.
Over by the fire, Chest was handing out pieces of dried meat. When he passed by Ren, he held one out with a friendly smile.
"Eat something. You must be tired too."
Ren shook his head, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I'm fine. Not hungry."
Chest shrugged and walked away without pressing further. No one insisted. No one noticed. Ren was left alone, with a growling stomach and the cold silence.
After everyone finished eating, Lind clapped his hands to get their attention. His clear voice rang out in the cold air:
"Tomorrow, we'll cross the collapsed rock zone. The ground there is unstable, one wrong step, and you could get trapped. Stay close to the group. Don't wander off, understood?"
"Got it, 'acting captain'!" Chest stuck out his tongue and struck a mock-serious pose, barely hiding the teasing tone.
Laughter erupted again. Someone even gave Chest a playful pat on the back. Lind raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, shooting him a side glance that was half-exasperated:
"Even if you're copying the captain's style," Chest drawled, winking mischievously, "you're only pulling off about one-tenth of it."
"You little..." Lind muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk, but he didn't argue further.
Across the fire, Yuna leaned forward and asked softly:
"Then... should we split into smaller groups? Moving all together might be hard to manage."
Diavel rested his chin on his hand, his gaze scanning the group around the fire. After a few seconds of thought, he nodded slightly.
"Yeah, smaller groups would be more flexible. Pairs...Lind, you go with Shivata. Chest, you team up with Nautilus."
Lind and Chest both nodded without needing further explanation.
"The last team will be me and Yuna..."
A brief silence followed. Ren looked up, sensing Diavel's eyes sweeping over the group, pausing momentarily on him.
Just a moment. A fleeting glance...but enough for Ren to understand.
"And Ren too," Diavel added evenly, his tone smooth, as if there had never been a gap in the plan. "I'll take care of the rest."
Ren sat motionless. He knew he had just been quietly, perfectly excluded.
No one asked. No one brought up who Ren would be grouped with. Only the crackling of the fire filled the growing silence between them.
Shivata stretched and whistled.
"Alright! Let's get ready to crush some monsters tomorrow to make up for today's beatdown!"
Laughter broke out once more, drowning out the tightness in Ren's chest. He gripped his shirt tighter, forcing a faint smile, but no one turned to see it.
Yuna lowered her head, as if she sensed it too, but didn't know what to say. Nautilus gently touched her hand and whispered something. They both fell silent.
Ren wanted to laugh. Truly. A loud, echoing laugh to fill this cold, empty space. But instead, he lowered his head even more, burying his face in his thin arms, hiding the expression that was falling apart.
It was strange. He had once believed that if he just tried hard enough, everything would be fine. That if he fought his hardest, endured long enough, everyone would come back to how they were before.
But clearly... that wasn't the case.
It wasn't that they were pushing him away on purpose. They had simply… gotten used to life without him.
And now he no longer knew where he was supposed to stand, what he should say, or how to even exist properly.
The fire began to die down. One by one, people lay down to sleep. The slow rhythm of their breathing blended with the cold wind whistling through the cracks in the stone.
Ren remained where he was, unmoving.
Above him, the ceiling of the cave loomed, layers of cold rock, ancient and mysterious, like they held secrets waiting to be uncovered.
In that darkness, Ren whispered softly, to no one but himself.
"…I'm sorry."
The words drifted away, vanishing into the void. No one heard. No one needed to.
Ren wondered, if he disappeared tomorrow, would anyone call his name? Would… anyone remember he had once been part of this group?
He closed his eyes, letting sleep and the chill seep into his body, as if… he wanted to dissolve into the darkness, leaving no trace behind.