The Otherworld stretched endlessly before him, a landscape that defied reason. Jagged fragments of earth hovered weightlessly in a void, tethered by thick, twisting roots that pulsed with a sickly light. The air was oppressive, heavy with the scent of decay and the faint hum of something alive and hungry. Aiden stood at the edge of a broken platform, staring into the abyss below.

He had once believed he could fix this—believed that his journey here had purpose. But now, staring at the yawning darkness, he wasn't sure of anything. The Core loomed in the distance, its monstrous shape writhing like a beating heart. Tendrils of shadow reached out from it, spreading corruption across the floating ruins. It pulsed with a rhythm that Aiden could feel in his chest, matching the hollow ache that had been growing inside him.

"You're wasting time," a voice said, cutting through the stillness.

Aiden turned sharply to see Sylva, her once radiant form dim and frayed. The light that had surrounded her like a protective halo was flickering, barely holding against the encroaching darkness. She hovered a few feet away, her green eyes weary yet determined.

"I'm not going back there," Aiden said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.

"You can't stop now," Sylva urged, stepping closer. "Lila is still out there. She needs you."

Aiden's jaw tightened, and he looked away. "She's gone. You've seen it. The Core has her—she's as good as dead."

"She isn't," Sylva insisted, her voice growing firmer. "Not yet. But if you give up now, she will be. You're the only one who can break the cycle."

Aiden laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the silent expanse. "Break the cycle? Look around, Sylva. This world is already broken. Everything I've done—everything I've fought for—it's meaningless. The Core is too strong. It always was."

Sylva's light dimmed further, but her gaze didn't waver. "That's what it wants you to believe. The Core thrives on despair. Every time you falter, it grows stronger."

Aiden shook his head, stepping back from the edge. "You don't get it. I'm tired, Sylva. Tired of fighting, tired of hoping. I can't save her. I couldn't even save myself."

As he spoke, the darkness around him seemed to respond, tendrils of shadow curling closer, brushing against his boots like hungry snakes. The pull of the Core grew stronger, whispering promises he couldn't ignore.

"Give in," it murmured, its voice deep and resonant. "Relinquish your pain. Relinquish your burden. There is peace in surrender."

Aiden closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. The pull was so tempting, the thought of letting go so sweet. What was the point of resisting when the outcome was always the same?

Sylva's voice cut through the whispers, sharp and urgent. "Aiden, listen to me. The Core is lying. It doesn't offer peace—it offers oblivion. You're stronger than this."

"No, I'm not," Aiden whispered, tears slipping down his face. "I'm just... tired."

The shadows surged forward, emboldened by his doubt. They coiled around his legs, climbing higher, their weight crushing. Aiden didn't fight them. He didn't move at all. He just stood there, staring blankly into the void.

Sylva reached out, her light flickering desperately. "Aiden, please! If you won't do it for yourself, do it for her. Lila is still waiting for you. She believes in you, even if you don't."

At the mention of Lila's name, something inside Aiden stirred. He thought of her smile, the way she teased him when his sketches didn't turn out right. He thought of her determination, her strength. But those memories were distant now, almost like they belonged to someone else.

"She deserves better," he said hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Better than this. Better than me."

Sylva's glow faltered, but she didn't give up. "She deserves a chance. And you're the only one who can give it to her."

The Core's voice rose again, drowning out Sylva's pleas. "She is lost. You cannot save her. You cannot save yourself. Embrace the truth, Aiden. Let the pain end."

Aiden sank to his knees, the shadows pulling him down. His body felt heavy, his will slipping away. He closed his eyes, the pull of the Core overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, Lila," he whispered, the words barely audible.

The moment he surrendered, the darkness surged forward, swallowing him whole. The weight of the shadows pressed against his chest, and for a brief, horrifying moment, he felt nothing. No pain, no fear. Just emptiness.

Aiden woke with a gasp, his heart pounding like a war drum. His hands clawed at the sheets, his chest heaving as if he had been suffocating. It took him a moment to realize he was back in his room, the dim glow of his computer screen the only light in the darkened space.

Sweat dripped down his face, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sat up, running a trembling hand through his hair. The dream—no, the nightmare—the details quickly fading to fog. It felt so real, too real.