Days passed, but the silence between Ren, Yuna, and Nautilus remained unchanged.
No matter how hard he tried to fit in, joking around with them, seeking chances to share a funny story, that invisible wall always stood between the three of them.
Every time Ren spoke, his words seemed to be pushed away by their cold gazes, and all he could do was fall silent once more.
Only during battles, when the whole group poured everything they had into the fight, did Ren feel even a fragment of that connection return.
But as soon as the battle ended, the distance returned, like a thick fog settling over everything.
One day, while the group was resting after a grueling fight, Ren happened to catch Yuna and Nautilus standing together, exchanging a few words.
They smiled lightly, but that smile wasn't for him. And once again, Ren felt like an outsider.
The feeling weighed on him, making him wonder if they still saw him as part of the group or just another nameless player among thousands of others.
That sense of emptiness grew stronger with each passing day. Ren looked at them, wondering if he still had a chance to change anything.
He wanted to speak up, to offer a sincere apology. But just as the words reached his lips, a voice in his mind held him back: "Does it even matter anymore?"
He hesitated. Then Yuna's eyes met his. She gave a faint smile but turned away quickly, as if afraid to reveal something she shouldn't.
Even so, Ren sensed something in her gaze. Was it embarrassment or just avoidance?
Nautilus stood nearby, his eyes still slightly cold, though not as distant as before.
That made things even more confusing for Ren. He wanted to step closer, to say something, anything...but feared it would only make things worse.
Ren realized he was standing at a crossroads. On one side: silence. On the other: an apology he still didn't have the courage to say.
He didn't know if their relationship could be mended or if it had already broken beyond repair.
But there was one thing Ren understood all too clearly: he wouldn't be able to move forward, to fight these monsters, or the one inside himself, if he couldn't face the silence between them.
He took a deep breath, looking toward Yuna and Nautilus, trying to focus and block out the noise inside.
But within his heart, one unanswered question remained: Could he speak up and change anything or was the wound already too deep to heal?
Still, no matter what, a new day would come. Time waits for no one.
The battle was about to begin in a stifling space, torchlight flickering against the stone walls around them.
The air was heavy and bleak, reflecting the group's tense mood.
Diavel stood at the front, his sharp eyes fixed on the map of the mine.
Every line on it seemed to be scrutinized, as if every decision could change the outcome of the battle.
"Chest, you'll handle the entrance," Diavel said, his voice calm, but carrying a hidden edge.
He didn't look up, eyes still locked onto the floating map before him, as if that world was the only one that mattered.
"Shivata, hold the front line. Lind and Nautilus, split off and guard the side paths."
"Yuna, you're with me...we'll handle the strays."
Ren stood silently at the back of the group, hands relaxed at his sides, saying nothing.
He looked at the familiar faces around him...but somehow, they felt more distant than ever.
Everyone had a clear role. Each member, Chest, Shivata, Lind, Yuna, Nautilus, was trusted with something crucial.
But Ren… just stood there, waiting.
Waiting for a task, waiting for an assignment. Waiting for some sign that he still had a place in this group.
But nothing came. Every look Diavel gave the others was filled with trust and expectation. The one glance he threw Ren's way felt like a passing thought, an accidental or perhaps deliberate oversight.
Whatever the reason, Ren could feel it clearly: he was no longer an essential part of the group's strategy.
Diavel didn't need to say it aloud. The message was clear.
Ren felt it in every second of silence, when no words were spoken to him, when Diavel didn't even know what to do with him.
It was no different from a quiet rejection, a glance that clearly showed Ren no longer had a place in this meeting, no longer held a role in this battle.
He just stood there, wordless, without a task, and he knew it well: there was no way he could make Diavel feel comfortable finding a spot for him in the strategy.
The torchlight flickered and danced, casting sharp shadows on Diavel's face, highlighting the firmness and focus in his expression.
Every order he gave came out with confidence, as if he had already run through every detail in his mind long ago.
And no matter how the light shifted, Diavel never stopped staring at the map, never once distracted.
Orders were issued, tasks assigned, one after another, and Ren remained silent, unmoving. The invisible feeling of redundancy began to wrap around him.
Diavel continued his work, seemingly unaware of Ren's silence, until he suddenly called out his name.
"Ren." His voice was cold, but carried a trace of surprise, as if he had just remembered something. Ren flinched, glancing up, slightly startled.
He had just been overlooked, why was he being called now? A vague, uneasy feeling stirred inside him.
"You..." Diavel paused, frowning slightly. His eyes scanned the formation. It felt as though he was searching for a place, a position for Ren, but couldn't find one.
Diavel had always had the gift of recognizing the strengths of his team members, a natural talent he'd possessed since childhood.
It helped him craft strategies, select the right people for the right tasks. But with Ren, he couldn't pinpoint a clear role.
He looked back at Ren, trying to find the best way to utilize him. But deep down, he knew, no matter where he placed Ren, it wouldn't change anything.
Not because Ren was weak, on the contrary, he was versatile, nearly a jack-of-all-trades.
Diavel didn't doubt that. But what puzzled him was Ren's lack of game knowledge.
If not for that, Diavel was certain Ren could've been a Beta tester... someone with deep experience who could contribute immensely to the group.
But now, all Diavel could see was an unused piece, a card still unplayed.
"Stay at the rear. Make sure no one gets left behind," Diavel said, his tone the same, not scolding, not encouraging, but leaving no room for questions.
Just a request.
Ren stood frozen for a moment, a choking feeling rising in his chest. Diavel's order wasn't a sign of trust.
It wasn't an important part of the strategy. He was like a ghost in the formation, unnoticed, tasked only with guarding the backline.
That feeling filled him, like a silent wound bleeding invisibly.
Yuna, standing nearby, suddenly spoke up when she noticed Ren not moving, still silent.
"You okay?" Her voice was gentle, but it held a genuine concern that caught Ren off guard.
He quickly nodded, forcing a faint smile, trying to hide the feeling of being left behind. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, though his voice betrayed the truth.
Yuna looked at him for a long moment, her eyes unable to hide their worry. It seemed like she wanted to say something... but hesitated, unable to find the words.
Her lips moved slightly, as if trying to speak, but then she fell silent, her confused gaze brushing past him before she turned away.
After a brief pause, she walked briskly back toward the group, not looking back.
Her footsteps fell heavily on the cold ground, each one echoing like a lonely heartbeat in the quiet before the mission.
Ren stood still, watching the people around him, faces filled with tension and determination.
He could hear the hurried footsteps of the group, but felt no connection to them. Everything seemed to blur, like a fading painting.
That feeling rose in Ren's chest, undeniable now: Yuna and Nautilus weren't the same as before.
Though Yuna had asked if he was okay, the closeness they once shared now felt like a distant echo.
Her gaze no longer held warmth, and the gestures of care, the shared words, now just vague silences.
The moments of closeness he once had with Yuna and Nautilus had been erased by an invisible distance.
The two of them were now tied to the group, to the warriors Diavel trusted more.
And that made Ren feel like an outsider, with nothing left to contribute to the forming strategy.
Diavel continued to assign roles, his voice steady and cold. Not a single glance was cast in Ren's direction.
No one asked. No one paid attention to him. Everyone had a purpose, except Ren, who could only remain silent, part of the background, unnoticed.
The feeling of being left behind, forgotten amidst a crowd of seasoned fighters, sank deeper into Ren's heart. He was no longer part of the formation, no longer a vital piece of the plan.
Everything was like a fading shadow, drifting away.
Ren bit his lower lip, took a deep breath, trying to drive away the emptiness rising inside him.
But it only made him realize a painful truth: he was just an extra in this battle, nothing more.
No contribution, no role, just someone following behind, quietly, invisibly.
At last, Diavel gave the command, his voice cold: "Move out." No encouragement, no rallying words.
The order came like a closing door, no room left for participation or advice.
The group began to move, and Ren, with no other choice, could only follow in silence, slipping into the shadows of the tunnel.
He was no longer in the center of the team, no longer an integral part of the strategy. He was just the one left behind, a faint presence without a mark.