Kin held the girl's head on his lap, his eyes closed as he focused on allowing Ashell to guide him into her mind. Ashell wasn't a master at entering others' minds, but the child within her—who possessed a deep connection to such powers—could aid him at this moment. Though Kin wasn't aware of the child's presence, she extended her influence without revealing herself, a hidden force that could make a difference.
Reaching toward the girl's fractured mind, Ashell felt the walls that usually shielded her consciousness begin to crumble, making the task easier than it would have been otherwise.
The process was both soothing and unnerving. Kin couldn't explain the experience with words; it was as if he was moving at an impossible speed while experiencing everything that happened at each moment he moved.
It didn't take too long for them to arrive at the large expanse which was the girl's mind, and although, Kin had never seen a person's mind before, he was sure it was nothing like what he was currently seeing. At least not a normal mind.
A massive storm raged through the mindscape, leaving it fractured and teetering on the brink of collapse. The once-boundless skies were shattered as if some unrelenting force had torn them apart. Chaos reigned everywhere, the landscape a fragmented and desolate mess.
At the heart of the mindscape, a radiant light pierced through the storm, emanating from four distinct directions and converging at a single focal point. Surrounding this convergence was a crumbling wall, its once-imposing structure now riddled with cracks and fractures.
Dark tendrils, like creeping vines, snaked across the wall, desperately clinging to its surface. They writhed and twisted, as if striving to hold the structure together, their inky presence a stark contrast against the fading brilliance of the light.
Kin stood amidst the chaos, his eyes fixed on the fragile scene before him. The storm howled around him, but his gaze remained unwavering, drawn to the ominous battle between light, shadow, and the relentless decay threatening to consume it all.
The curse placed on the girl, which was meant to fortify her against despair, now worked in her favor. The curse, though a prison, was keeping her from losing herself entirely. If not for this safeguard, Ashell realized, they would be looking at a corpse instead of a girl lost in her shattered thoughts.
Ashell reached out a hand to Kin, a faint light forming beside her. "That is her mind," Ashell said, pointing at the wreckage before them. "You have to go in there," Ashell pointed at the center of the converging light, "and wake her up. I don't know how you will do that, but I'll buy you as much time as I can and stop this wall from crumbling. That will give her a better chance to fight back. But ultimately, she has to want to wake up. You understand?"
Kin nodded solemnly, but Ashell's warning still echoed in his ears. "One last thing. Her mind is fragile, and you can't stay long. She's hiding somewhere in the ruins. You need to find her quickly. If you don't, get out of there immediately. Is that clear?" Ashell asked receiving a nod in reply.
Without wasting a second, Kin pressed forward, stepping toward the shattered remnants of the girl's mind, walking into the light. As he drew closer, the resistance grew. Each step was harder than the last, but he kept moving, determination pushing him onward. The closer he got to the light, the more intense the pushback. Still, he didn't stop. He couldn't afford to.
Seconds felt like hours as Kin struggled, but eventually, he found himself in a new place—no longer in the mansion where he had been held captive, and not in the city of Dura either. The surroundings were unfamiliar—an open, peaceful village, far removed from the chaos he had expected.
From a distance, Kin saw a young girl carrying a basket of fruit, walking beside a man he assumed was her father. The peaceful scene before him was strange yet comforting.
"It seems it was a nice harvest, Papa," the girl said with a smile. "The fruits look fresh."
"Yes, Su Yin," her father replied, looking down at the basket. "I was surprised myself. It seems the gods have favored us despite all the conflict."
"Well, Mom will be very happy when she sees this," Su Yin replied cheerfully, her eyes bright with hope.
"Very true," her father said with a smile.
Kin stared at her, the familiarity striking him deeply. There was no mistaking it—this was the girl he had come to help. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look, but something felt off. As he neared her, trying to speak, Su Yin turned to her father as if Kin didn't exist.
"I'll go and help Mom with dinner. Hope you don't need me for anything," she said.
"No, Su Yin, go ahead," her father replied, and the girl went on her way, the basket still in her hands.
Kin was stunned. He moved to reach out to her, hoping to make contact, but his hand slipped right through her as if she were a ghost. Panic rose within him.
'How can I help her if I can't even speak to her?' He thought, his frustration mounting.
Suddenly, the scene around him shifted, as if the world itself was pulling him away. He felt light-headed, and in a blink, he was no longer in the village. Instead, he found himself sitting at a dining table, surrounded by the same family. Su Yin, her father, and a woman Kin presumed was her mother were eating together, their voices carrying the warmth of a simpler time.
"So, Su, are you still going with your father to the city tomorrow?" her mother asked, looking up from her meal.
"Yes, Father needs help selling everything we harvested. It will be best if I went to assist him," Su Yin replied with a smile.
"Good," her mother said. "While you're in the city, you can help me visit the silk merchant. I need to get something there."
"No problem, Mom," Su Yin answered. "I'd love to."
"Oh, you seem excited," her father said with a chuckle.
"Yes! I love visiting the silk merchant. The clothes they make are beautiful," Su Yin said, her face lighting up with joy.
Her mother smiled, turning to her husband. "Did you see the scarf your daughter made?"
"No, she hasn't shown me yet," he replied.
"It's beautiful," her mother said proudly. "I think Su Yin will make a great seamstress."
"I have no doubt," her father said, gently caressing his daughter's head.
Su Yin smiled at the praise, but her mother raised an eyebrow teasingly. "So, this scarf… Did you make one for your old man too, or just for your mother?"
"I'm still working on one for you, Dad. And trust me, it's very special," Su Yin whispered, winking playfully.
"Oh, that's my girl," her father replied, his voice full of affection.
"Your dad gets special treatment?" her mother teased, feigning outrage.
Su Yin smiled brightly, the warmth in the room palpable. The family continued their meal, a picture of simple happiness.
Kin could only watch, his heart heavy with confusion and sorrow. How had things gone from this peaceful life to the nightmare he was witnessing now? What had happened to the girl he was trying to save?
Before he could dwell on it further, the familiar pull tugged at him again. He felt himself drawn away, and the scene before him shifted dramatically. The warmth of the dining room was replaced by the crackling heat of an inferno. Kin gasped as flames leaped into the air, and chaos filled the space around him. The peaceful life Su Yin had once known was fading into nothing, replaced by destruction and pain.
And so, Kin was left standing at the threshold of this new nightmare, uncertain of what had happened or how he could help—but he knew one thing for sure: the girl was lost, and he had to find her before it was too late.