In a nightmarish battlefield, Ryan Ravan was no longer himself. With a sword in hand, he charged towards the soldiers with a malevolent fury, cutting down everything in his path. His eyes blazed with an unsettling hunger for destruction as he advanced, leaving a trail of burning bodies in his wake.
Soldiers, young and old, begged for mercy, their pleas a desperate chorus of voices drowned by the merciless cacophony of war. Women and children, clutching each other, knelt in prayer, praying for salvation. But to Ryan, they were nothing more than fragile obstacles in his path, and his heart had turned to ice.
He was a devil, cutting through everything with a chilling determination, indifferent to the agony and suffering that he left behind. In this gruesome tableau, darkness had taken control, and the devil within him had been unleashed.
The scene was a vivid and terrifying memory from a past life, and it left Ryan shaken to his core. He struggled to comprehend the brutality that had unfolded before his eyes.
**Ryan**: (Whispering) What... what just happened?
And then, as if guided by an unseen presence, he found himself standing in the museum, disoriented and confused.
**Ryan**: (Bewildered) How did I get here? What was that... nightmare?
He had no memory of walking through the museum, as if he had been in two places at once. The haunting scene and the sense of darkness that had consumed him lingered, leaving him in a state of profound confusion.
Having recollected himself after the unsettling experience in the museum, Ryan Ravan boarded the bus with his classmates, heading back to college. His faith in the unknown kept him grounded, a beacon of hope in the face of his recent dark revelations.
Inside the bus, the atmosphere was a chaotic blend of chatter and banter, intensified by the eerie pall cast by the inexplicable event at the museum. Classmates chit-chatted, teased each other, and engaged in the playful camaraderie of youth. But amidst the noise and laughter, Ryan felt something—an uneasy sensation, as if he were being watched by the shadows themselves. He turned to look behind him, expecting to find the source of the piercing gaze.
**Ryan**: (Whispering to himself) Who's watching me?
His eyes met a group of girls, lost in their own conversation and laughter. They seemed innocent enough, just part of the chatter and commotion. But the feeling of being watched persisted, and the bus took on an air of unsettling suspense.
One of those gazes belonged to Maria, the radiant girl who had unknowingly become a central figure in Ryan's life. However, he was unaware of her presence in the bus, and the connection between their experiences remained a mystery to him.
The journey back to college continued, with Ryan's mind filled with unanswered questions. Meanwhile, back in the museum, the painting took on a new form. The vivid image of the protagonist with a sword, once a symbol of relentless destruction, didn't merely fade away—it disappeared like a ghost vanishing into thin air. A sense of foreboding terror hung in the air, and viewers couldn't help but shudder at the sudden absence.