Zed stood inside Rick's memory.
He was Rick now, a frightened boy curled up inside an old wooden cupboard. The door hung open, revealing the dim, flickering light of a house caught in the grip of chaos. The air was thick with the sound of distant screams, steel clashing, and buildings burning.
Just outside, Lana knelt in front of him. Her body was tense, eyes wide with fear, but her lips held a gentle smile. It was fake, crafted for him but beautiful all the same.
Rick's small voice trembled. "Sis… we should run…"
Lana reached in and brushed his hair back, her palm lingering on his forehead.
"No, Rick," she said softly.
"The knights have returned. Zed and Sir Jaeger might be with them. That means we're safe. But you have to stay here, okay?"
Her voice lowered. "Hide. And no matter what, don't come out. Promise me."
Rick nodded slowly, his young eyes beginning to brim with tears.
She smiled again, her softest one yet, like a flower blooming at the edge of winter.
Then, finally, she reached out and gently closed the cupboard door.
Darkness fell.
Rick sat in complete darkness inside the old cupboard, the wood pressing cold against his back. Only faint slivers of light leaked through the cracks and holes in the door, thin, trembling beams that barely pierced the gloom.
Then—
CRASH.
The front door shattered inward with a violent crack. Rick flinched, hands clamping over his mouth to silence his breath. Through the gaps in the cupboard, he could see movement, shadows stretching and shifting across the floor.
Two figures stumbled in , bandits, caked in filth and smoke, their boots stomping heavy over the broken remains of the doorway.
They ransacked the house, throwing aside chairs and smashing what little remained. One of them kicked over a table, sending pottery crashing to the ground. But they found nothing.
"Ron!" one of them shouted toward the door. "Let's get outta here. Place is empty. Nothin' left to loot."
Rick's heart pounded against his ribs like a drum. His eyes were wide, lips trembling, every muscle in his small body frozen with terror.
He didn't dare breathe.
Ron paused at the center of the room, his grimy face twisting into a sneer. "Nah…" he muttered, his voice low and certain.
"I know there's someone here. I can feel it."
He turned toward the cupboard.
Rick's breath caught in his throat.
Slowly, deliberately, Ron stepped closer, his hand outstretched, fingers curling around the wooden handle. The hinges creaked faintly under the shifting pressure. Rick could see the dirt beneath his nails through the crack in the door. Closer. Closer.
Then—
"I'm here! I'm here!"
Lana's voice rang out from behind the kitchen wall desperate, trembling, loud enough to cut through the tension like a blade.
Ron froze. He pulled his hand away from the cupboard and turned.
A beat passed. Then he grinned.
"Well, well…"
Rick's entire world stood still inside the dark cupboard. His sister had drawn them away from him.
Ron stalked toward Lana, his eyes cold and calculating. "Where's the money, girl?" he growled.
Lana's breath hitched as she trembled, eyes darting between the bandit and the broken remnants of their home. "I don't have any… please, I—"
Without warning, Ron's fist shot out, crashing into her stomach. Lana gasped, her breath leaving her in a painful wheeze. She crumpled to the ground, her knees buckling under the force of the blow, her scream echoing through the dimly lit room.
Rick's heart slammed in his chest. His hands trembled, clamped tightly over his mouth to keep the scream from tearing out.
No... I can't…
The other bandit, Ron's partner, looked on with a hint of hesitation in his eyes. He stepped forward, his face a mask of unease. "Ron, stop. She's just a girl. Let her go."
Ron's eyes flicked up, his sneer growing wider as he straightened. "What?" He let out a harsh laugh, his voice dripping with disdain.
"She's just a girl, huh? You want me to go easy on her? Why? Is she your daughter?"
His partner flinched, stepping back. Ron's gaze hardened, turning back to Lana. "Then let her suffer."
Rick closed his eyes tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. No… please, not like this…
The sound of his sister's sobs, muffled by the bandit's brutality, pierced his soul. The darkness in the cupboard felt suffocating, as if it were swallowing him whole.
Ron yanked Lana up by her hair, a cruel grin twisting his face as he pulled out a wicked-looking dagger.
"Let me put you out of your misery, then," he sneered, raising the blade high.
Rick's heart pounded as he watched, unable to move, unable to do anything to stop it. The knife descended in a blur, plunging into Lana's stomach with sickening precision. She gasped in pain, her body jerking from the force.
Ron twisted the dagger, and before Rick could even comprehend the horror, the blade was buried in her again, this time into her side. Lana's scream was raw, desperate, and full of agony.
Ron didn't stop. He drove the dagger into her chest, again, and again, each stab ripping through her fragile form.
Rick's body shook violently, tears spilling down his face as he bit his hand to muffle his scream. His chest felt hollow, the unbearable weight of the moment crushing his soul. He pressed himself into the cupboard, trying to stay hidden, to not let them know he was there, yet all he could hear was Lana's cries growing fainter.
Lana's body went limp, her breaths shallow and strained. Her blood pooled around her, staining the cold floor.
In her final moments, through the pain and the blood, she whispered weakly, her voice barely a breath, "I… I'm sorry, Ric…"
But before she could finish, her body went still, her life slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Rick could only hold onto the sound of her last words, the feeling of helplessness searing his heart.
Lana was gone. The bandits too.
Inside, the house had fallen into a stillness that felt unnatural like the world was holding its breath. The chaos outside bled in faintly, distant shouting, the crackle of burning wood but within these walls, there was only silence.
The door creaked open. Rick stepped through with hollow eyes, the weight of the world etched into every line of his face. He moved like a man underwater, heavy and slow, each footstep muffled by the thick air of grief.
He dropped to his knees beside her body, his fingers trembling as they brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Hey," he whispered. "Wake up. Please… don't leave me." His voice cracked like dry earth. "You're all I had. If you're gone… what does that make me?"
His words hung in the air like smoke clinging, choking, vanishing.
Then Zed snapped out of the memory, the past tearing away like a scab ripped too soon.
He crumpled to his knees, his forehead pressing to the floor as his body shook. A low, broken whisper escaped him.
"No, Lana… I—I couldn't keep my promise."
The words scraped from his throat, raw and brittle. He struck the floor with his fists, again and again, each blow landing with a dull thud that echoed in the hollow space around him.
"I'm useless," he choked. "I couldn't save anyone... not a single one I loved."
His grief spilled out like a tide too long held back—violent, unrelenting, and cold.
Rick's grief snapped the leash.
He grabbed Zed by the collar and slammed a fist into his face.
"It's all your fault!" he roared. Another punch. "You hear me? All of it! We didn't run because of you! She trusted you. I trusted you!"
His fists rained down, each strike fueled by heartbreak and rage. Blood spilled from Zed's nose, dripped onto the floor, but he didn't fight back. He didn't flinch. He took it all like he believed he deserved it.
Rick froze, panting, his hands trembling as he stared at Zed's battered face.
"Why the hell aren't you yelling?" he asked, voice breaking, as if the silence was more unbearable than any scream.
Zed stepped forward.
And hugged him.
The embrace was gentle, too gentle for the storm still in the room.
"You can cry," Zed whispered, his voice low and steady. "Don't hold it back."
Rick's breath hitched. "What... what are you saying?"
But his body had already surrendered. The fury drained from his limbs, and he broke, collapsed into Zed's arms, sobbing not like a child mourning a world that no longer made sense.
He wept for Lana. For everything they'd lost.
Zed held him, silent.
Then, after a long moment, he pulled back. His eyes were cold now steel beneath frost.
"I'll make them pay," he whispered. "I'll make them suffer."