Their grins were sharp with victory—alive, loud, beaming after conquering the ring beast. And I couldn't take it.
I turned my back on their celebration, unwilling to soak in a joy that didn't belong to me. That would never belong to me. A part of me, buried deep and ugly, wanted them to lose it all—wanted their cheers to turn into screams. But I pushed that down.
Because what can a ghost do to the living?
This time, I didn't want to simply watch from the sidelines. I wanted in. I wanted to feel the blood rush again, to breathe, to ache, to crave, to love. To be special—even if only for a moment.
I used to dream of having what the sanctuary humans had, even the boring lives they complained about.
And for a long time, I lived through someone else. One person. One life I deemed worthy. I followed them through everything—successes, heartbreak, and ordinary mornings. I told myself it made me feel something.
Until it didn't.
Until I started to hate them.
Now, I chose Mika and Rellio. Two best friends, full of light and childish hope, daring to take on the Trials of the Gods. The way they smiled, the way they dreamed—it was sickening. Beautiful. Fragile.
But even that didn't stir anything in me anymore.
There's only one thing left that brings me joy.
Watching hope die.
No matter how close they get, no matter how determined—they all fall. The gates of the Trials are paved with bones and broken wills.
And these two won't be any different.
I've watched hundreds—some I clung to for years, others just passing through—and not one has made it.
Some come close.
But that's the curse. The cruelest part. They almost make it. They see the promise just before they're ripped away from it.
Humans weren't built to match the gods. We weren't meant to reach that high.
They chase some ancient, divine invitation left by the gods long ago like it means something.
It doesn't.
If I ever had a chance to walk among the living again, to enter the Trials myself… I wouldn't do it to become a god.
I'd do it to destroy them.
I'd crush the Trial from the inside. I'd burn down the path they made.
I'd drag every smug little creature playing god down to the same hell I've been trapped in.
Because I don't want their thrones. I want their ashes.
I want a new world. One where people dream of real things.
But look at me—no body. No power. No voice loud enough to change anything.
So I drift back to the forest. My forest. The one place I always return to when the bitterness threatens to consume me. It's where I first died. Where I first saw him—Vitalis.
The trees are wet with rain, glistening as the last storm of the season fades. The dry season is here. That means more beasts. More blood. More quests.
I sit in my usual place—between two massive oaks. My hum returns, soft and haunting. My mother used to hum it while baking honey buns in our old village.
If I could rewind time, I'd stop it. That one moment. That one crack in the glass that shattered everything after it.
A noise snaps me out of my thoughts.
A sound so sharp it slices the quiet in two.
Then the light—red, pulsing, alive. It tears through the forest like a god's fury unleashed. The shadows stretch toward it, trembling.
Is that… someone awakening?
But the power—it's too strong. Too raw. Too divine.
And yet… it feels human.
The dread creeps in instantly, curling into my ghostly chest. It latches onto me like it's always been there, just waiting for a reason to crawl out.
Something moves me. My will, my soul, something ancient. I lift without meaning to, and drift toward it—toward the light.
It's coming from there.
The desolate lands.
The one place I swore I'd never return to.
A place forbidden to humans, cursed even for ghosts.
But the dread pulls me closer.
I don't fight it.
I can't.
Step by step, I push forward. The forest darkens with every inch, not like nightfall, but like the world itself is recoiling. The moonlight refuses to follow me here.
I reach the jagged edge between the living world and whatever lies beyond. The place I was always warned away from.
Still, I keep going.
I cross.
And everything vanishes.
No trees. No wind. No life.
Only red. Endless, glowing red.
And in the distance—it moves.
The light is shifting, growing fainter the closer I get, like it's daring me to follow. Like it wants to be found.
And I will find it.
Even if it destroys me again.