“…I killed them…”

His breathing began to haste, ascending into an uneven, rapid hyperventilation as his eyes shook, looking on at the pile of bodies in the rancid room.

I killed them…I killed them, he thought.

It was when feeling a hot wind brush against his pale, sweat-clad skin did he turn back again, met face-to-face with the abhorrent beast from Hell, still fortunately bound just enough for its jaws to be unable to reach him.

Even in the face of the malicious beast beyond human imagination, he didn’t recognize it as a threat; the sadness in his heart overpowered his fear as his attention went elsewhere.

“…Kamou…”

Again, he said her name, looking down at her blood-covered body for a minute before slowly lifting her body into his arms as he rose to his feet.

“…Let’s go…”

With a shine of tears glossing his emerald eyes, he looked down at her as he carried her in his arms, making his way through the dreadful domain to make his leave.

Wandering weakly and slowly, his mind experienced faint thoughts as he marched onwards, aimlessly through the keep for hours on end like a mindless drone before eventually reaching the entrance._.

As soon as he reached that dark hall where it all began, the sealed door opened itself as if recognizing his presence, and the lack of presence from those who once inhabited its depths.

Still holding the silver-haired, lifeless girl in his arms, his eyes squinted as the arrival of light; it was merely the soft orange of the setting sun, but it was more than his eyes were adjusted to after hours in the darkness.

“–“

Awaiting beyond the threshold of the accursed dungeon was not the simple scenery of the post-apocalyptic neighborhood he expected.

There were people waiting beyond the door.

Dressed in the seraphic, pure white uniforms native to the Angel System, he stopped his own hand as it instinctively moved towards the dagger sheathed at his hip.

“Are you a part of the “Last Bastion of God’s Will”…?”

It was a question asked by the man with slicked-back, silver hair, wearing plain glasses. Somehow, past the haze on his mind, he vaguely recognized the stoic-faced man.

[Player Recognized.]

[Dae-Seong. Level: 32 | Class: Luminate Swordsman]

It was easy to tell he was high-level without being told, as the white uniform, with golden designs, etched like clouds, he wore with ivory steel armor over most of his body, stood out as something powerful.

On the man’s back, a colossal greatsword stayed sheath, remarkably designed with a handle that resembled the wing of a dragon.

That’s right…this guy…is the one from at the very beginning of all of this, he remembered.

Feeling no animosity coming from the stoic-expression man, he simply shook his head, unable to properly speak through the veil of despair over his heart.

“I see,” Dae-Seong replied, “…My condolences.”

Being bestowed such words, it felt as if it stitched the reality he wanted to disbelieve together, causing his legs to fall powerless beneath him as he dropped to his knees, still holding the lifeless body of his companion in his eyes.

“Are they still in there? The ones who did this?”

The question was asked by the woman beside the white-uniformed man who seemed to be the leader of the group.

He shook his head again.

This answer seemed to surprise the group as they looked between each other, but the two at the forefront remained looking at him.

Met with those frosty eyes, and flowing, dark-black hair that was brushed by the evening wind, he recognized her as well.

[Player Recognized…]

[Ma-Ri Hyeon. Level: 29 || Class: Radiant Fencer]

“Ma-Ri…?”

“Hm? Oh, I remember you…” The woman’s cold eyes opened a bit out of surprise, showing some emotion, “You’re the one I rescued from the End Titan.”

“You’ve met him before?” Dae-Seong looked at his black-haired companion.

Ma-Ri nodded, “He was only level eight then I think…hold on–level twenty?”

Chatter spurred from the other members of the group who stood behind the two, talking about him as he sat on his knees, hardly paying mind to them.

“Level twenty?”

“It’s hard to come across others that high recently,” a man with spiky, dark-blue hair said, though he looked hardly older than him, he had a wicked scar across his face.

From the prompts appearing as he looked at these other people with the main two, they were all high level, averaging between eighteen to the low-twenties.

Dae-Seong looked at him, still holding his unmoving expression.

“Did you finish off all of the enemies in there? Jeong-Hui, was it?” Dae-Seong asked, having likely scanned his player data.

He nodded slowly, looking down at the face of his fallen companion.

Silence befell the group, though Dae-Seong and Ma-Ri, who seemed to be the vice-captain of the group, exchanged a few whispers before the middle-aged, silver-haired man knelt down before him.

“–“

“Those men had killed one of our own. That wasn’t the only reason we were tracking them down, though. The “Last Bastion” are an evil of this world, devoted to hunting people like us. They have killed many, and would never have stopped–but you put an end to one of their most heinous groups.”

He kept his head down while Dae-Seong spoke to him, feeling only these words resurface his unwanted, fresh memories.

His eyes widened slightly as he saw a hand be extended to him.

“Jeong-Hui, how would you like to join our group? I can guarantee you we will succeed in reaching the Tower, so long as we work together,” Dae-Seong offered.

He looked up, now finding a certain kindness that he didn’t recognize before in the man’s light-golden eyes.

Part of him was scared to do it all again; joining a new group, but he knew moving forward was best—it was what he needed to do.

The rest of the group looked on, awaiting his answer, some holding reassuring smiles. Not answering immediately, he looked down at the one he held in his arms before wiping the tears from his face, brushing his hand off against his pants before accepting the man’s hand.

He wasn’t particularly delighted about this, or anything for that matter. Despite his grievances, and his own hesitance with jumping into another group–he knew it was best for him, and the life he miraculously held onto from this dreadful day.

“…Alright…”

Dae-Seong helped him stand, “Welcome to “Gangcheori”, Jeong-Hui.”