"..."
Watching the children huddle together, their eyes sparkling as they listened to someone telling a story, soft giggles filling the small yet warm space…
Ren suddenly felt something tighten in his chest.
The scene before him blurred, replaced by another memory… a long, bone-chilling winter, empty streets stretching beneath a bleak, gray sky.
Streetlights cast a pale yellow glow on the snow-covered ground, lonely and unable to warm the freezing night.
Amidst that desolate sight, a lone child trudged along the ice-laden sidewalk, their small figure shivering inside a worn-out coat, feet numb in tattered shoes that no longer provided warmth.
No one was waiting. No one called his name.
There was no one.
Ren remembered those days when it was just himself, stretching a single pack of cheap instant noodles to last until the end of the month.
He remembered the twisting pain of hunger, the times he could only sip water to endure it because he had not a single coin left.
He remembered the winter nights, curled up on a cold, hard bed, his faint breaths visible in the frigid air, listening to the wind howling through the cracks of his window, whispering voices from the darkness.
Each morning when he woke, the world remained unchanged.
The same dreary sky, the same meaningless days passing by, the same him... wandering alone in a sea of indifferent people, a ghost lost in the midst of a bustling life.
Ren had grown used to it. Used to facing everything alone, used to the emptiness that never faded.
He had convinced himself that he needed no one, that he had no place to belong.
But now, watching the children lean into each other, sharing their smiles, their warmth… he realized he was wrong.
His hand clenched tighter.
A place like this… he had never had.
Ren's eyelids trembled slightly. He pressed his lips together, trying to keep his voice steady.
"…Why did you bring me here?"
Gareth remained silent for a long moment. Then, he let out a quiet sigh, his sharp eyes seeming to pierce through Ren's thoughts.
"Because you need to see this."
Ren gritted his teeth but didn't refute it.
Because he knew… Gareth was right.
He didn't answer. He simply stood there, his gaze sweeping across the room, though his heart refused to stay as calm.
These children… they were also Players, trapped in Aincrad just like him.
But unlike the adult players who could fight, defend themselves, and find ways to survive… they had nothing.
They were too small to wield weapons. Too weak to endure the trials of each floor.
And most of all… they still had families to return to.
Ren held his breath. A dark thought flitted through his mind, sending a cold shiver down his spine, despite the absence of wind.
If no one fought to escape this place… these children might remain trapped in Aincrad forever.
Forever.
Until…
Ren suddenly clenched his fists, refusing to let the thought continue.
A surge of helplessness, frustration, and something even worse than fear coiled inside him, as if an invisible hand was squeezing his chest.
He bit his lower lip, his eyes unconsciously flicking toward Gareth.
The man didn't speak further, only leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, silently watching him. His deep gaze seemed to be waiting for something, a question, a reaction, or perhaps… a decision.
Ren took a slow, deep breath. He wasn't sure if what was rising inside him could be called resolve.
But he knew one thing for certain: this feeling wasn't fear, nor hesitation.
It was something else.
Not the blazing rage of fire. Not the cold resignation of those endless winters.
But something both smoldering and intense, like a rushing current hidden beneath thick layers of ice.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting his breath settle, then slowly opened them again.
"…So, how do these children live?" he asked, his voice no longer wavering.
Gareth raised an eyebrow slightly before answering.
"The townspeople help them. Some NPCs provide food, some players donate spare gear or Cor to buy necessities.
There are also a few who volunteer to watch over and protect them."
Ren looked back at their young faces, some children tugging at the storyteller's sleeve, urging them to continue.
A small girl clutched a patched-up doll, whispering something to it. An older boy gently patted a younger one's head as they rubbed sleepy eyes.
They were still so young.
They didn't belong here.
Ren thought of himself, of a past long gone, yet clinging to him like a shadow.
No one had come to save him. No one had reached out to him.
He had walked through the cold, through hunger, through countless nights of solitude.
But these children were different.
They could still laugh. They could still cling to a sliver of hope, no matter how fragile.
Ren slowly took a breath before turning back to Gareth.
"…What do you want me to do?"
This time, Gareth didn't answer immediately. He studied Ren for a long moment, as if weighing something in his mind.
Then, with a voice both deep and unwavering, he said:
"It's not about what I want you to do."
"This is your choice, Ren."
Ren fell silent. He knew Gareth was right.
Choice… it was something he had never considered.
From the moment he had entered this world, he had never been given the right to decide anything.
He had been swept along by circumstances, forced to keep moving forward, whether he wanted to or not.
Hunger, cold, fear… all of it had pushed him ahead. If he stopped, he would be left behind.
If he hesitated, he would lose his chance to survive. That was a brutal truth he had carved into his heart.
But this time, there was no command forcing him, no enemy driving him into a corner.
No blade pressed against his throat, no darkness bound his feet.
For the first time, he stood before a path he could choose for himself.
He turned back, glancing at the children once more. They were still laughing, still running around, blissfully unaware of how terrifying this world could be.
But… perhaps…
To them, Aincrad was merely a strange dream, an unfamiliar place, but not necessarily a frightening one, because they could still laugh, still find warmth in the people around them.
But Ren knew… this world was never kind.
One day, Aincrad would reveal its cruel truth. One day, when the protection around them was no longer enough, when the older players moved further up the floors, when the remnants of order crumbled, the children would be left behind.
No one would protect them. No one would fight for them.
An image flashed through his mind, wide, terrified eyes, tiny hands clutching each other in desperation.
Children who couldn't wield a sword, who couldn't protect themselves… abandoned in a world meant only for the strong.
Ren clenched his fists.
Perhaps he couldn't yet call this feeling rising inside him determination.
But at the very least, he knew he didn't want to stand still. He didn't want to turn away as if he had seen nothing.
"…I'll think about it."
Gareth looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, not pressing further.
Ren turned and stepped out of the care home. But just as he reached the stone steps outside, he froze.
At the small corner of the courtyard ahead, someone sat on the steps, gazing quietly at the sky.
Her tea-brown hair was neatly braided, hanging gently, swaying slightly with the breeze.
In her hands was a small doll, its fabric faded with time, one arm stitched back together with white thread.
Ren recognized her instantly.
Not because they had spoken before, but because he had caught glimpses of her before, a player unlike any other… to him.
Unlike the rest, she didn't rush into battle, didn't seek strength, didn't seem eager to escape this place.
She simply remained with the children, as if this was the only place she belonged.
But Ren knew… she wasn't just a part of this place.
She was a part of the town itself, a familiar presence everyone had seen at least once.
Not on the battlefield, not at the quest board, but in the quiet corners of the streets, where she would often sit and sing under the dim glow of lanterns.
She carried no weapon. Wore no armor. Took no part in hunts or struggles.
Only her voice, clear and gentle, drifted through the crowded streets.
Perhaps… after a long and exhausting day, when players returned with wounds and disappointments, just hearing that voice was enough to keep their inner flame burning a little longer.
Just a little.
She noticed his gaze. A moment of silence passed, then she tilted her head slightly and smiled.
"You're leaving, aren't you?"
Ren didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure why she asked that. But after a pause, he gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
She didn't look surprised. Nor did she ask anything more. She simply lowered her gaze to the doll in her hands, fingertips gently brushing over the worn fabric.
"You know…" Her voice was as light as the wind. "I used to think that if I could ever escape this place, the first thing I'd do was take a walk under the sunlight."
Ren narrowed his eyes slightly.
Sunlight.
How long had it been since he last thought about that?
In the days he spent in the shadows of the Town of Beginnings, he had forgotten that the sky above still held light.
He had forgotten that the world beyond wasn't entirely consumed by fear and blood.
But the girl before him… she still remembered.
"But then I realized," she continued, her voice calm like a still lake, "I can't leave while others are still here."
She looked up, meeting his gaze. Gentle, quiet, yet holding something deep within.
"What about you?"
Ren pressed his lips together.
He had never thought about that question. Never considered that he could choose anything other than the path ahead.
But at this moment, standing before her, hearing those words… he felt as if he had been placed at a crossroads he had never noticed before.
He didn't have an answer.
And for the first time, he truly hesitated.