"You took everything from me!! I should have been the center of attention!!"
His voice echoed, sharp and full of bitterness, as the cold wind from the cliff swept past us. We stood at the edge of the world—this place, a cliff known to few, but feared by all. A chasm whose depths were never measured, shrouded in mystery and misfortune.
He stepped toward me, his eyes burning with anger. But it wasn't just blind rage.
No. That gaze was too clear. Too... deliberate.
"What are you—"
Too late.
His push was light, but precise. My left foot lost its footing. My body tipped backward, and gravity claimed me.
I fell.
The air slammed into my face. The sky spun behind my back. And the chasm—dark, silent, seemed to welcome me like the maw of death itself.
This wasn't an accident.
He knew what was waiting below.
A rift that would open today—a place where the Demon Dungeon would be born, a place even heroes feared to tread.
'Bastard'
A cold laugh echoed in my head, as if he were still standing at the cliff's edge, savoring my fall.
My body finally passed the threshold. I didn't land on the ground… but in a shifting, chilling void.
Like a dimensional hole. The temperature dropped sharply. Darkness felt alive. The world changed.
A Dungeon.
But before I could think any further, the voice came.
"…Ren…"
Faint. Pulled along by a soft sob.
Someone was calling me.
Not him. This voice was weaker. More sincere.
A plea... for me not to die.
Funny. Even before this dungeon kills me, the world's already tried to do it first.