Mori glanced at those fading eyes, his focus unyielding as he stubbornly tried to keep that fleeting memory engraved in his subconscious.
But his mind, it seemed, had other plans. It remained as dull and distant as ever, abandoning Mori to his suffocating predicament.
"Come on," he moaned desperately, stretching out his hand, straining to grip the billowing robes of the depraved war general.
"No, that wasn't Sun Tzu… that was—"
His voice trailed off, swallowed by the eerie silence around him, leaving behind a hazy, oppressive atmosphere in his mind.
A sharp rap on the back of his neck broke the illusion, and Mori's eyes snapped open.
At first, his vision was blurry. He waited, blinking repeatedly, as faces and figures in white swam into view, their presence unsettling and laden with suspicion.
'This… this has never happened! What's going on? What did I do?!'
Mori sat up, his head clearing rapidly. Finally, his befuddled mind began to react.
'What timely intervention… I'm impressed.'
But the situation demanded immediate action. He swung his feet off the bed, but before he could rise, several hands gripped him, holding him back.
"Mr. Mori, you have to stay calm!"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Why is he so hyperactive?"
Mori paid no attention to the mutterings. He'd never cared for them before—why should he now?
With a grunt, he shook off the hands restraining him and leapt from the bed. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he sauntered over to the nearest window.
His surroundings remained foggy. His vision wavered, but he gripped the glass, focusing with all his might.
It was futile. Whatever that bastard had done, it had lasting, devastating consequences.
Mori yanked the bandages from his arm and walked back to the bed. People seemed to instinctively avoid him as he passed.
"Excuse me," he grabbed the nearest figure, feeling an unsettling sense of inferiority. "What color are my eyes?"
The figure snorted with disdain, but Mori detected a faint quiver of fear in the person's voice. "Not even a magic word?"
"Oh, please. Can't you mortals understand the gravity of some situations?"
"Mortals? Did he say mortals?"
"What's he talking about?"
Mori ignored the whispered questions, tightening his grip on the woman's shoulder. She squealed, her body tensing, trying to escape.
His hold did not loosen. His gaze hardened, and she swallowed nervously, but the lump in her throat refused to go down.
Her blood ran cold, a surreal chill spreading through her, and beads of sweat formed on her brow.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, her feet leaving the floor. "T–they're r–red! Red!!!"
Mori let go, and she crashed to the floor, gasping and wheezing for air. Several nurses rushed to assist her, leaving Mori to stare coldly at a man clad in military uniform.
The man's silver armor gleamed dully, its metallic sheen standing in stark contrast to the bronze-colored medical tools scattered around the room—a sight that piqued Mori's fleeting interest.
"Hey," Mori muttered.
The man turned, barely acknowledging him, before the sound of heavy boots echoed in the ward as soldiers entered.
A woman looked up, her sharp glare emphasizing her refined, stern features. She disapproved of the presence of the soldiers and turned her disapproving gaze from them to the man in charge.
"General Zang, I'm sorry, but you can't bring troops in here. This is a hospital ward…"
"My deepest apologies," Zang replied without taking his eyes off Mori's back, his voice calm but unyielding. "This is a necessary precaution."
Before Mori could respond, two soldiers gripped his arms, locking them behind his back. He didn't resist, but the soldiers struggled to maintain their hold as Mori's body went unnervingly still.
"What's wrong? He's not moving…" one of the soldiers grunted, sweat dripping down his face as though trying to contain a force of nature.
Mori's lips curled into a humorless grin, and with a sudden burst of strength, he wrenched himself free. The soldiers crashed to the floor, their bones snapping audibly.
Several nurses hurriedly shielded their eyes, averting their gazes as blood pooled beneath the fallen soldiers.
"Tsk, I didn't mean to be that harsh…" Mori glanced around, a hint of disdain coloring his tone. "But to be honest, they started it."
"You're evil," Zang spat, his eyes wide with fury. "You'll pay for this."
Mori didn't flinch. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to scare me."
He casually sat back on the bed, the weight of stares pressing on him. Something in his body tingled as if awakening to a deeper awareness. His surroundings—no, everyone in the room—felt suddenly unfamiliar, as though he were seeing them for the first time.
He glanced at the lifeless bodies, feeling nothing but an eerie calm, as though he had just completed some trivial task, like finishing a meal.
He picked up a towel, absently wiping his hands, almost as if cleansing himself of a crime. His demeanor was so detached, so nonchalant, that it only made the horrified whispers more unsettling.
"There's no need to be so scared," Mori said coolly, straightening up. "I don't normally harm people—unless they try it first."
His mind flickered to a vivid image—a beautiful man lying twisted on the ground, eyes gouged out, his face contorted in agony. Despite the disfigurement, there was an undeniable allure to the man—a charm that could make even goddesses vie for his attention.
Yet Mori couldn't place the memory, nor did he understand why it surfaced now. It wasn't important.
"Hey," Zang tried again, his voice trembling despite his forced composure. "Who are you?"
"Mori… at least, that's what I recall. But my memories are splintered, so I have no real idea. Don't take my word for it."
"You shouldn't even be able to know if your memories are incomplete. That's an exaggeration," a nurse chimed in, but Mori's glare silenced her. She lowered her eyes to her polished shoes, visibly shaking.
Mori's lips curled into a small, unsettling smile. Zang didn't like that smile. He gripped the hilt of his blade, but held his ground—he couldn't make assumptions just yet.
Mori gently clapped a hand on the nurse's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. She froze, a fresh wave of fear spreading through her. Her mind reeled, her worldview shattering as she imagined the worst.
Before she could react, she collapsed at his feet, her once-sleek hair now disheveled and clinging to her face. "I'm sorry, good sir," she begged, her voice trembling. "I can offer you anything—even my body. Please, just spare me after… after everything."
Mori stared down at her, his expression unreadable. The room held its breath, all eyes fixed on him.
'He's actually considering her offer,' Zang thought, disgusted. 'What a twisted psychopath.'
But Zang could do nothing. He had a family to protect, and he wouldn't sacrifice them for some naive nurse who had spoken out of turn.
Mori's smile widened, a cruel glint in his eyes.
"Come to think of it, you're right. I shouldn't be aware of my deficiency, but I still am. That's startling."
Unconsciously, he removed his hand from her shoulder and pressed it to his eyes. An audible wince escaped his lips, and he bent forward, clutching his head in pain.
The room was frozen, its occupants stunned by the sudden shift in Mori's behavior.
The young nurse acted first. She rushed to Mori's side, gently guiding him back to the bed. As she pulled his hands away from his eyes, she gasped in horror. Crimson blood dripped from his palms, pooling on the floor.
She couldn't look at his eyes. It was clear where the blood came from.
Her stomach churned violently, threatening to empty itself. She fought the urge to vomit, forcing herself to remain composed as she awkwardly patted Mori's back.
Mori tried to claw at his eyes in desperation, but the nurse held him back, straining against his weakened resistance. His strength had diminished, as if the battle with his own body had taken its toll.
A thousand needles seemed to stab into his eyes, each prick blurring his vision and intensifying the pain. But it wasn't the pain that bothered him—it was the creeping realization that his sight was slipping away.
Frustration flared, briefly numbing the agony, but it was useless. Every stab of pain felt like a further loss of his vision.
With a final, defeated sigh, he let go of his resolve. His hands slackened, blood continuing to spurt from his eyes, but he didn't make an attempt to stop it.
He squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to block it out, but the torment persisted, relentless and unyielding. His body went limp, and he fell back, but the nurse caught him, struggling to keep him upright.
What's happening? Is this some kind of punishment for killing those men?
'Who could be doing this to me? I don't believe in gods!'
Horrible thoughts flooded his mind, as the pain continued to course through his veins undauntedly.
That was not all. Whatever was torturing him had other plans in store for him.
He forced his eyes open, finding them to be mangled together in a gory manner. That action initiated a new splash of blood over the spotless floor, drenching the young nurse robes.
An overwhelming pressure began to bear down on him, not physically but mentally. Mori remained sitting upright, but his mentality was being plunged into an ocean of torment.
A contorted expression etched on his face, told the young nurse that something was also wrong somewhere else. She gripped his hand tightly, and looked desperately at the others for help.
"Can't you see he's in pain? Do something!"
Her sweet voice resounded eeriely in the small room, because no one reacted at all. They all just stared at her.
Zang glanced at the bodies of his men, and then back at Mori. A countenance of hatred temporarily contorted his features before he turned impassive once more.
He had reached a decision. Something was very wrong here, and they couldn't solve it.
Therefore, they had to enlist the help of the Superiors. Surely, they would have better answers.
With a meaningful glance from Zang, two more soldiers matched forward, each catching hold of Mori's flailing hands.
"I'm sorry, Miss. But it's obvious you can't handle his condition, so you've to entrust him to us."
The young nurse aggressively threw off the soldier's hand, clinging to Mori. He has dropped moving, only some occasional jerky movements emanated from his hands.
"If we can't help him, what makes you think that you can?"
Zang sighed wearily, and another soldier stepped forward, and pulled her away from the unconscious boy, gripping her arms in an arm lock behind her.
"Don't risk your life because of him. Your family's royalty can't redeem you all the time. Surely not now."
The young nurse flailed and struggled but the young soldier was more than capable of restraining her.
Mori felt the pain lessen, and slowly regain consciousness. However he didn't open his eyes.
A tight violent sensation drew his attention. He heard clanging as he attempted to move his hands.
They seemed to be…manacled together.
'What the hell…!'
He tried to wrench his hands apart, but met a futile result. He heard cruel laughs and a soft sob.
'What the fuck is going on here?'
He opened his eyes, turning around with a sharp resolution. His rage had ignited again, and he wasn't going to hold back this time.
A sudden pain enveloped his left hand, causing him to fall on his knees, his hands moving instinctively to the wound, but the chains restricted that.
Mori stopped suddenly realizing something.
Why hadn't he seen the attack coming?
He recalled opening his eyes, but didn't remember feeling the sensation of light fall on them.
He opened his eyes again, but nothing changed. He only felt a hot liquid dribbling out of them, rolling down his cheeks.
Then the cruel stark reality hit Mori, crippling all his aspirations, resolution and reasoning all at once.
Mori was blind.