"Lyerin!" "Lyerin!" "Lyerin!"

A handsome young man with long dark hair and intense dark eyes, snapped his gaze open.

First thing he noticed was sweat covering his entire body, and his breathing was fast and shallow. He looked around, he couldn't help but turn his head as he wondered where the sound came from.  

The voice calling his name was familiar, but he couldn't place it to where he had heard it but it was very familiar. 

Yet at the same time, it felt like something from long ago.

"Lyerin!" "Lyerin!" "Lyerin!"

The voices called again, but he struggled to focus, memories came flooding back to his head. 

The Emperor Wizard's challenge, the time beast he had tried to poison with mercury, and the moment it swallowed him whole, plunging him into darkness. And now, he was here, wherever he was, a place that he felt familiar. 

Lyerin forcefully sat up slowly, his body aching, but he didn't mind it as if it was a normal thing. 

When he looked around again, the room around him began to take shape: old wooden beams overhead, faded tapestries on the walls, and a single window letting in a sliver of light. 

The air smelled of old wood and a faint hint of incense. Everything felt oddly familiar, like a scene from a forgotten dream of his past.

Lyerin got to his feet, unsteady but determined to understand where he was. He moved around the room, touching the furniture, the tapestries, and the little trinkets scattered about. 

Each touch brought a vague sense of recognition, but the memories remained just out of reach.

"Lyerin!" "Lyerin!" "Lyerin!" 

The voice again, closer this time, and he could feel in her tone that it was filled with urgency.

He turned toward the door, an old wooden door that seemed heavy with history. Beyond it, the voice grew louder. He stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Just as he reached for the handle, the voice softened, filled with a pleading tone.

"Please, forgive me…"

It was a woman's voice, gentle yet full of sorrow. Lyerin paused, his hand trembling as he touched the door. 

The words tugged at his heart, stirring emotions he couldn't quite understand.

"I loved you so much, Lyerin. More than you could ever know."

The voice was breaking, each word heavy with emotion. Lyerin felt a deep ache in his chest, as if something long buried was trying to surface. He pressed his hand against the door, feeling the vibrations of her voice through the wood.

"I did what I had to, for your sake, but now I'm sorry I can't do this…"

His mind spun with confusion. 

The room seemed to blur around him, reality and memories mixing together. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the woman's voice and her words.

"Lyerin, my beloved son…"

The voice was choked with tears now, and Lyerin's heart felt like it was breaking. He stood there, feeling like he was on the edge of something huge, something important.

"Lyerin, I, Lina, didn't regret being your mother!"

The name hit him like a thunderclap. 

Lina. 

Lyerin felt like it unlocked something in his mind. He saw flashes of a woman's face, her eyes warm and kind, her touch gentle. She had been everything to him. His mother.

Lyerin fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the flood of memories. "Lina… Lina…" he mumbled, the name a lifeline in the chaos of his mind. He remembered her now, the love and the loss, the warmth and the sorrow.

Suddenly, Lyerin's eyes snapped open, wide with sudden recollection. "Didn't she perish before the apocalypse came?" He whispered, heavy with disbelief and pain.

Memories crashed into his head, vivid and relentless. He remembered that this was the last time he had seen and talked to his mother, Lina. 

This was the last time he saw her. 

Then the apocalypse arrived.

The sky had darkened, and strange counting numbers appeared, suspended, and projected against the heavens like some cosmic countdown to the end of humanity. 

People panicked, and chaos erupted as those affected by Eldren or Adrenaline Mana began to change. All were transported to a dangerous ruined magical world, but if they don't survive, their bodies would turn into an Eldritch zombie-like being, spreading infection with every bite in the real world. 

Lyerin had barely escaped with his life, but his mother, when he searched for her, had not been so fortunate. She had become one of them—a flesh-eating zombie.

The memory was a knife to his heart.

He sprang to his feet and ran to the door, frantically trying to open it. "Mother! Lina! Let me out!" he shouted. 

Yet, the door was locked, immovable under his frantic efforts. From the other side, he could hear her voice, still gentle but both erratic and guttural.

"Please, forgive me, Lyerin, my son! Forgive me!" she cried. 

Lyerin's heart pounded as he realized the full weight of what was happening. His mother was there, just beyond the door, and she was begging for forgiveness. He knew why.  

It was the truth about his father and the assassin family.

His father hadn't abandoned them; his mother had just been one of many women in his father's life. The assassin family, as if foreseeing the incoming apocalypse, had decided to summon all their offspring to strengthen the family. 

Lyerin was one of them, but unlike the others, he lacked the talent they sought. He didn't possess the shadow core, the key to the family's power. He was deemed a failure and sold into slavery like others, a tool for the family's trade.

That was when his nightmares began. But if he is really back, his mind seems to focus on saving his mom before she turns into an undead.

Lyerin banged on the door. "Mother! Please, let me out! We can fix this! Let's talk!"

But her voice grew more frantic, more guttural. "I'm sorry, my son. I'm so sorry."

Lyerin realized that his mother was too emotional, and it would take time to convince her. He took a deep breath, sitting down against the door, and began to speak, his voice soft yet firm.

"Mother, I know everything. I know what they did to you, what they forced you to do," he said, his words carrying a weight of understanding and sorrow. "I know the assassin family came for me, and you didn't have a choice. They would have tortured you and the rest of our family on your side if you didn't comply."

He paused, letting his words sink in, hoping she would hear the sincerity and the pain in his voice. "I don't blame you for what happened. You did what you had to do to protect me, to keep me safe. I understand that."

Lyerin leaned his head back against the door, the wood cool against his skin. "Mother, I need you to understand that I forgive you. I don't hold any of it against you. The family, everything that happened—none of it was your fault. You were just trying to survive, just like I am."

He could hear her muffled sobs on the other side, and it broke his heart. "Please, Mother, open the door. Let me hold you, just once more. I need to see you, to know that you're still here with me. For one last time."

Lyerin continued to speak, his words flowing freely. He talked about his childhood, the happy memories, the moments they had shared. He reminded her of the strength she had shown, the love she had given him. "You were always my rock, Mother. Even when things were at their worst, you never gave up on me. Open the door, and let me be there for you for one last time before they take me."

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. Lyerin's voice grew hoarse, but he kept talking, kept pleading. "We can make it through this, together. I promise you, I will protect you. Just let me in."

Finally, he heard the lock click, and the door creaked open. 

Lina stood there, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but there was a glimmer of hope in her gaze. 

Lyerin jumped to his feet and rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Mother," he whispered, feeling her warmth, the familiar scent of her hair. "Thank you."

But before she could fully embrace him, he suddenly snapped her hand and sliced her shoulder like a hidden blade. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain. "Lyerin, what are you—"

He didn't give her time to finish. He struck again, aiming for her other shoulder, his heart aching with every movement. 

"Lyerin, you—"

But on the third try, she finally collapsed, unconscious. Lyerin caught her before she hit the ground, tears streaming down his face, but those tears were of embarrassment. 

"I apologize, Mother," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I had to do this. I needed to stop the Eldren Mana before it fully took over you and sent you to that ruined magical world. This is the only way to keep you safe, at least for today."

He carefully lifted her and placed her on the bed, covering her with a blanket. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. "I love you, Mother. I always have, and I always will. Please forgive me for now."

Lyerin stood there for a moment, watching her sleep. He knew this was the best chance he had to save her, to keep her from the horrors of the other world. He wiped his tears of embarrassment and composed himself, knowing he couldn't stay any longer.

He walked out of the room and stepped into the open, looking up at the sky. 

There, the numbers continued to count down. 

88

87

86

And so on…

Although this scene would make one's skin crawl if they saw numbers like this appearing in the sky, Lyerin was already used to this.

Lyerin clenched his fists, but there was relief on his face. "Fortunately, I made it," he mumbled. And then he looked back to the room. "I'll secure this place for a while before this countdown ends and sends me to that place."