After an indefinite amount of time, the once-white void had transformed into a Forest of Spheres.
Each sphere hovered above the white ground, carrying a unique rune inside itself, similar in color yet distinct in nature.
A month had passed, or perhaps a year had disappeared. How long had he lived here?
The boy didn't know.
One thing he was sure of that he was forgetting something—something very important.
Ever since he started learning these runes, his past had been slipping away—his memories of a wonderful life disappearing.
At first, he often wondered what was real and what was fake.
But now… everything seemed fuzzy.
Everything felt strange.
He was convinced that this white land is real and everything else had been a mere figment of his imagination.
These floating runes were his life, his friends, and the object of his admiration.
As usual, he popped open a runic sphere, studying it—trying to comprehend the untold secrets hidden within.
A runic line flickered in the air.
The boy glanced at it.
"What type of rune do you think this is?" he asked himself, then answered,
"Yes… it looks like a 'control rune', used for maintaining physical properties. It seems to have the ability to absorb and erase—not like the previous one, which appears to 'manipulate'."
Saying this, he quieted himself.
"Both look the same but work differently. Why is that?.... I have to study them further… Come to think of it, there are plenty of control, manipulation, command, and harness-type runes… but why isn't there something for 'creation'?"
"Is there something wrong… or do they simply not exist?"
The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He had spent countless years in this desolate landscape, watching these glowing spheres claim the land, sky, and horizon—turning the white void into a forest of marble.
And yet, strangely, every marble contained only control and manipulation-type runes.
It was weird.
Why?
As his knowledge and comprehension grew, so did his suspicion.
As time passed, the seed of doubt was nurtured inside him like blooming flower just like the initial spheres.
And then, he hummed a song.
A song he had forgotten.
The same melody escaped his lips—foreign and unfamiliar…
How did he know this song?
Where had it come from?
Why was his imagination so vivid?
And why did this white land feel so wrong ?
Was he truly a being capable of living for this long?
Is he immortal?
Impossible.
Living for eternity is impossible.
After studying these runes, one thing was certain—everything had a price.
Every action have a cause.
So how could he maintain his form for almost eternity?
Why? Why? Why?
The question haunted him.
"Shut up," he muttered to himself.
"Shut the fuck up!."
"Stop thinking, you bitch…"
"What does this have to do with me?"
Saying this, Arun punched a sphere and grabbed another one, throwing it away.
"This is all messed up! Nothing makes sense, you piece of shit!"
How does his voice echo when there isn't even air here?
This is fake.
Fake.
Fucking false.
In his hysteria, Arun violently banged his fists against the ground , hurling control runes left and right—scattering them, disrupting their order.
"Calm down…"
He took a deep breath—though it should have been impossible in this void.
But he did.
And that only made his doubts worse.
He shook his head.
From that moment onward, he could be seen arranging the spheres in a particular pattern—only to thrash them apart moments later, injuring himself in the process.
He was trying to understand the world.
But…
Nothing made sense.
How could this white void exist? It was impossible.
There had to be something keeping it functional.
Yes, something that acted as fuel.
Something that is always present.
Something that is the catalyst of change—the harbinger of new creation.
What is it?
Wait… wasn't it… wasn't it him?
The only anomaly in this rule-less world… is him.
A person who followed the rules.
It's me.
It's me.
I am the problem.
At that moment, the void shook—as if reacting to his realization.
The white expanse tore apart, splitting open like bleeding wounds as a haunting, nightmarish fluid dripped from the sky and seeped through the land.
The black-haired, red-eyed, haggard boy blinked—
—And then, everything returned to normal.
The spheres bloomed once again…
But he no longer paid them any attention.
Because he had seen something he shouldn't have.
Even if it was fake…
The very existence of that thing was forbidden to be known.
A haunting scene.
As he remembered, the White Void shook again.
It trembled, trying to mend the boy's mind.
All the runic spheres burst apart—each symbol piercing the wounds of void like needles—trying to cover the bleeding land.
But it was for naught.
Crack.
Boom.
With those sounds…
The white land disappeared.
A burning smell invaded his nostrils.
He felt a wet sensation on his entire body—weak, frail, and trembling.
He opened his eyes in An unfamiliar place.
It was a cave.
Dozens of egg-like cocoons were scattered around.
Their surfaces were dark and murky teaming up with glowing lines illuminating the surroundings.
"Cough… Cough…"
He coughed, vomiting water onto the ground.
His vision fell upon broken cocoon at his feet.
Some of the fragments lay beneath him.
His thoughts returned.
His memories returned.
"Arun… Arun…" he whispered, desperately trying to etch his name into his mind.
Arun trembled on the ground.
Then—
A chill ran down his spine.
"Fucking bitch… I'll tear you apart. Just wait for me… just wait."
Arun muttered through gritted teeth.
He tried to stand up only to realize
His body was extremely malnourished—skin stretched thin over his bones, hollow cheeks, and bulging eyes sunken deep into their sockets.
All of this spoke only one thing about him weak and Pitiful.
But even in this pitiful state…His resolve burned.
"This trial… I will end it right now."