《Houses Of Distortion》 Ryan(1) 2017, June 18 ¨C 9:00 PM It had rained all day, and though the downpour had ceased, the scent of rain still lingered in the air. I''ve always found comfort in the rain¡ªit soothes my soul like a lullaby. Perhaps that¡¯s why I slept the whole day away. Oh, and I had a strange dream today... --- 2025, March 17 The announcement was made, and some students began breakdancing on the classroom''s concrete floor. Naturally, they were punished, but their joy remained untouched, as if consequences didn¡¯t exist. In the back corner, near the window, I stared outside, my face devoid of expression. With a sigh, I rested my chin on my folded hand and muttered, "I don¡¯t belong here." --- 2025, March 25 Today was the school trip. I didn¡¯t expect much. Our class wasn¡¯t large enough to fill a bus, but we still got one to ourselves. As I stepped in, I was struck by its size¡ªit felt enormous. The air inside carried a faint scent of damp vinyl, dust, and exhaust fumes drifting in through the open door. I paused in the aisle, contemplating where to sit. The back seats were traditionally claimed by the boys. For a moment, I considered sitting there¡ªthey might join me. But then doubt crept in: What if they told me to move? It didn¡¯t matter in the end. I chose a seat by the back window on the left. As expected, the boys gathered in the back, their laughter and shouts rising in chaotic harmony. The girls settled in the front, their chatter creating a rhythmic backdrop. Brumm! The bus engine roared to life, signaling our departure. Just as it did¡ª Tap... huff... tap... tap... huff... huff... Hurried footsteps. Heavy breathing. Curious, I turned to the back window, pressing my knees into the seat for support. Behind the bus, a thin-looking boy was running. He wore our school uniform, but what caught my attention was his long bangs, falling over his face. Can he even see through that? I wondered. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Stop!" His voice trembled with exertion. I turned back and pointed toward the side mirror, silently urging the teacher¡¯s attention. She frowned, likely thinking my gesture was disrespectful, but I didn¡¯t care. I pointed again. The whole interaction lasted no more than three seconds. Noticing the boy, the teacher quickly ordered the driver to stop. The chatter and laughter died instantly as everyone turned, trying to piece together why the bus had halted. Huff... huff... The boy reached the bus, his legs shaking, his bangs damp with sweat. He gasped for breath, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin¡ªsomething the teacher immediately noticed. "Student, sit down," she commanded. Thud! He collapsed into a seat, too drained to hold himself up. Whether it was from exhaustion or fear of the teacher, I didn¡¯t care. I slowly drifted into sleep. --- 2017, June 18 - 9:00 pm I had a strange dream today... I met a strange guy... Thud! I jolted awake as the bus hit a small pothole, a sharp jolt running through my spine. "Ah, my back," I muttered. It seemed everyone who had been asleep was now awake as well. I glanced out the window. The sun was setting, casting a breathtaking scene. White clouds fractured the golden light into fragments of a rainbow. A gust of fresh, earthy air passed over my face. It felt cold, so I shut the window and tried to gauge how far we still had to go. Realizing we weren¡¯t close yet, I let my eyes drift shut again. Before sleep claimed me, I caught a glimpse of the side mirror. The boy from earlier sat upright, staring out the window. His expression wasn¡¯t joyful or sad¡ªit was empty, completely devoid of emotion. His bangs no longer covered his face. He looks familiar, I thought before drifting off again. --- I had a strange dream today... I met a strange guy named¡ª Thutt! (The bus engine shut off.) "Wake up, student!" The teacher¡¯s voice rang through the bus like the judgment of a god, jolting everyone from their sleep. I rubbed my eyes and looked outside. The sun was still setting, but the scenery had changed. A moment ago, it had been a village filled with red-soil huts and the fresh aroma of wet earth. Now, towering trees surrounded us, thick with shrubs and creeping vines. A thought crept into my mind: It feels like the set of a horror movie. Unnerved, I quickly brushed it aside and turned my attention to the teacher. The students were watching her expectantly, trying to make sense of why we had stopped in such an isolated place. "Students, there is a small mechanical problem," she announced. "But don¡¯t worry, the driver says it will only take a few minutes to fix." Her reassurance did little to calm the growing unease. Complaints erupted, voices overlapping in frustration at our eerie surroundings. But the teacher quickly quelled the unrest, displaying the authority of her years in this profession. "Teacher, can we relieve ourselves in the woods?" a boy asked. Laughter erupted, mainly from the girls. The sound spilled into the trees and echoed back strangely, as if the forest itself were laughing with us. "You can, but you must take a friend with you," the teacher replied, keeping the mood light. By now, the sun had fully set. Groups of students began forming, heading off into the woods. I raised my hand. My only close friend, Josh, had already gone outside with others, but it didn¡¯t bother me. The teacher was pairing up those who didn¡¯t have a group. "Who else wants to go?" she asked. My eyes drifted¡ªalmost unconsciously¡ªtoward the long-banged boy. He had raised his hand. We walked a little further away from the bus¡¯s light. Neither of us spoke at first. Maybe, like me, he didn¡¯t feel comfortable doing his business too close to the others. "Are you from another class?" I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse. "Y-yeah," he answered. His face looked pale, sweat visible at his temples. He must be nervous. This atmosphere¡­ yeah, it¡¯s unsettling, I thought, acknowledging that even I was starting to feel uneasy. "W-what¡¯s your name?" he asked. The full moon had just begun to rise, casting a red glow over the trees. The air grew colder. I shivered. "Subba. And yours?" I asked casually. "R-Ryan." The world fell silent. Laughter, footsteps, rustling leaves¡ªall sound died. Even the insects and birds had stopped. It was as if the darkness itself had swallowed everything. The moon¡¯s glow deepened, turning crimson. My body tensed stopping my pee completely. A sudden memory surfaced¡ªno, not a memory. A dream. A meaningless fragment from years ago, buried in my old diary. 2017, June 18 ¨C 9:00 PM "Oh, I had a strange dream today... I met a strange guy named Ryan..." "He killed me." Chapter 2 - Ryan(2) 2025, march 25 - 6:00 pm ... ... .... Wait...!? My brows furrowed as the name struck me like a forgotten whisper from the past. "Ryan?" I had written those words once¡ªRyan killed me. But the dream had faded, leaving behind only scattered fragments, blurred and incomplete. I shifted my gaze without moving my head, catching a glimpse of him in the reflection of the crimson moon. His shadow stretched behind him like a scarf, and in that moment, he looked exactly like the boy from my dream years ago. I had written he killed me, but nothing more. I had forgotten where, how, or why. Tch. I scoffed at my past self for dismissing it as just another nightmare. My breath quickened. My heartbeat pounded faster, rising like a crescendo in an unseen symphony. My vision darkened at the edges, as if a veil of shadow had been pulled over my eyes. Maybe it was just the eerie atmosphere closing in around me. "Calm yourself," I muttered under my breath, forcing my body to steady. Pat! The sudden touch sent me leaping forward, my foot landing in something unpleasant. "Ugh." A wave of disgust crawled up my spine, but I ignored it. Spinning around, I searched for whatever had touched me. "S-Sorry..." It was Ryan. His voice trembled, his hands slightly shaking, his entire frame stiff as if he had just made a terrible mistake. His gaze was locked in one direction¡ªtoward our bus. His eyes were wide, unfocused, as though he was trying to piece together a puzzle only he could see. Frowning, I followed his gaze. The bus was the same as always¡ªfaded yellow paint, streaked with grime, parked beneath towering trees. The crimson moon cast long, distorted shadows across its surface, making it look almost... wrong. But that was just a trick of the light. Wasn''t it? The silence stretched too long. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "What''s wrong?" I asked. Ryan didn''t move. His eyes stayed fixed on the bus, his breathing uneven. Then, barely above a whisper, he spoke. "D-Don''t you see it?" ... ... ... "What the hell is he talking about?" I thought, my eyes narrowing as I followed his gaze once more. Nothing. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just the same yellow bus under the crimson moon, the same towering trees casting elongated shadows. I scoffed at myself¡ªhow could I have been so shaken just because he resembled the boy from my dream? If anything¡­ it¡¯s the silence¡­? Wait¡ªwhat!? What!? What!? What!? My thoughts spiraled as realization struck. How is it so silent? The students, always chattering as if talking were as vital as breathing, were silent. No, no, no! Panic clawed its way up my throat. The ceaseless hum of insects, the soft rustling of leaves, the distant murmurs of life¡ªall of it was gone. The world had gone completely, impossibly still. I looked at Ryan. He was just as dumbfounded as I was. No¡ªhe was worse. Fear had drained the color from his face, his temples slick with sweat that soaked into his headband. His mouth hung open, as if gravity itself was pulling it downward. "Ryan¡­ let''s go?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper. I was scared too. The silence was suffocating. Every nerve in my body screamed that something was terribly wrong. My instincts urged me to move, to run¡ªbut I thought if we just got inside the bus, we¡¯d be safe. Ryan didn¡¯t respond. His breathing had turned shallow and erratic. Then, barely audible, his voice trembled through the silence. "D-Don''t you see it?" I swallowed hard. "See¡­ what?" Ryan''s lips quivered. His hands clenched into fists, his entire body stiff with terror. And then, in a voice so weak it was almost swallowed by the emptiness around us, he whispered: "The driver¡­ he¡¯s not moving." My breath hitched. Ryan''s eyes widened further. His veins bulged at his temples, his breathing becoming more erratic by the second. The driver wasn''t moving? Slowly, I turned my head toward the bus. The driver was under the bus, fixing a mechanical problem. His cellphone light cast a dim glow on the underside, illuminating a leak. Maybe it was a problem with the fluid. But¡­ The fluid wasn¡¯t leaking. It had stopped¡ªsuspended in mid-air. A mass of liquid, thick and unnatural, hung just above the driver¡¯s face. It should have splattered down, drenching him, seeping into his clothes, but it didn¡¯t move. It just stayed there, as if frozen in time. My chest tightened, and a chill ran down my spine. My mind screamed at me to hide, to run¡ªbut we were in the middle of nowhere. It wasn¡¯t completely dark, not enough to obscure everything, but just dark enough to make every shadow feel menacing. My fingers curled into a fist, my nails digging into my palm. A drop of sweat trickled down my forehead. Grip. Another chill shot through me. Slowly, I turned my head, heart pounding. Something had grabbed my hand. Ryan. I exhaled sharply, relief washing over me¡ªbut only for a second. His hand was like ice. It trembled violently, his grip weak and unsteady. His breathing was so uneven, so broken, that his legs wobbled beneath him, barely holding him upright. He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing. "C-Calm down," I tried to reassure him, but my voice betrayed me. What came out was nothing more than a dry, breathless whisper. We were both terrified. With a dull thud, Ryan¡¯s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground. His breathing was ragged, his face pale, his body trembling uncontrollably. I wasn¡¯t much better¡ªconfused, shaken, my mind racing. But at least my legs were still steady. If something did go wrong, I could still run. I glanced at Ryan. A thought crept into my mind. A selfish, terrible thought. If something starts chasing us¡­ at least he¡¯ll be the distraction while I run. For a moment, I almost felt proud of myself for staying on my feet. Almost. But the silence pressed in again, and I swallowed hard. Because if I had to run¡­ that meant something was coming. I pondered whether I should call the teacher, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. I feared that doing so might attract something¡ªsomething that would chase us, something we couldn¡¯t escape. "Let''s just stay here. The teacher will come get us if we''re late," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Ryan nodded, his hands folded in the dirt, eyes cast downward, lost in thought. ... 2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm Minutes passed, stretching into eternity. ... 2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm Hours slipped by, and yet nothing changed. ... 2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm More time passed as we waited ( Did it? ) Chapter 3 - (I was right) 2025, March 25 ¨C 6:00 PM Many hours had passed. The teacher hadn¡¯t come to find us. The driver hadn¡¯t moved. The fluid remained frozen in midair¡ªsuspended, motionless, as if time itself had stopped. The moon still lingered in the exact same spot, like a baby¡¯s toy hanging from an invisible thread. Ryan was asleep on the gravel road while I stood guard. We had assigned shifts for rest, but I couldn¡¯t sleep¡ªnot in conditions like this. Snore... snore... Ryan¡¯s soft snoring was the only sound. Everywhere else, there was silence. Too much silence. Unsettled, my thoughts spiraled again... The driver isn¡¯t moving? Or... he can¡¯t move? Is something restraining him? Even if there were a biological reason for their stillness¡ªsome kind of mass paralysis¡ªwhy is the fluid still frozen in midair? Could it be some kind of toxic gas? Maybe everyone inside the bus fell unconscious? But if that were the case, why are Ryan and I still fine? I hadn¡¯t seriously considered time stopping¡ªit was too much to process. It wasn¡¯t even a natural phenomenon. This world ran on cause and effect. My rational mind dismissed the idea. And yet, some part of me wished it were true. By now, we had been outside the bus for a long time. I had somewhat calmed down. No one had come after us. There was no sign of toxic gas, no symptoms of poisoning. And, strangely enough, I had started to find some comfort in this dumb silence. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "I didn¡¯t belong there anyway," I muttered under my breath, glancing at Ryan, who was still snoring. GRRR! A deep growl echoed in my stomach. "None of that matters right now. We need food and water to survive." I had made up my mind¡ªwe needed to go back inside the bus, at least once. My breath was shaky, betraying my hesitation, but hunger was pushing me toward that decision. "Okay," I said, standing up. Just then, Ryan stirred awake, rubbing his eyes. A faint print of drool marked the side of his mouth. He looked at me, confused. "What okay?" he asked, still groggy. Despite being trapped outside together, we hadn''t spoken much. I wasn¡¯t the type to start conversations unless necessary, and maybe he was the same. He had stayed silent the whole time¡ªperhaps out of fear, wary of attracting the attention of something dangerous. "We have to go inside the bus. At least once." "We need water. Any snacks we can find." To be fair, we were headed to the mountains for a school trek¡ªa three-day trip. I was certain we were in the middle of a jungle. If we followed the road, we might reach a village, and maybe they could help us. But I had no idea how far that village was. That was why we needed food and water. We had to be prepared for a long journey. What took the bus two hours might take us more than half a day on foot. Ryan was dumbfounded. The corner of his mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but then it closed again. He shook his head and gave a deep nod. I nodded back, then glanced around before stretching my arms and legs. I gestured for Ryan to do the same. To be honest, he would likely be a burden. But going alone into an unknown situation didn¡¯t sit right with me. Besides, Ryan was weak-willed. If danger arose, I could outrun him. That meant I had to take him with me¡ªhe was a one-time lifeline, after all. After a few minutes of preparation, we were ready to dash to the bus. "Ryan, are you ready?" I asked, the corner of my mouth tilting upward slightly. Not that I was thinking of anything cruel¡ªI swear. He nodded. I began counting slowly. 1... 2... 3... Dash! We sprinted toward the bus, not looking anywhere else. Ryan was slow¡ªI was already ahead of him. I deliberately slowed my pace, falling slightly behind him. The corner of my mouth curled up. I¡¯m faster. I have more stamina. That fact made me... pleased. Ryan reached the door first. He turned to look at me, veins bulging, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was clearly nervous. I watched him, emotionless. I nodded. Ryan hesitated for a second, then stepped onto the bus. I followed close behind. Gasp! Ryan¡¯s breath hitched. His eyes widened in shock. I quickly followed his gaze¡ª ¡­!!!! Nothing seemed out of place. The students were exactly where they were supposed to be. Some were laughing, some frowning, and the teacher was on the phone, likely speaking with the head teacher, asking for assistance. But something was... off. There was no movement. Those who were laughing kept laughing, over and over, as if they were stuck in a loop. A fast-forwarded, unnatural loop. Every single person was repeating the exact moment they had been frozen in. Again. And again. And again. My lips curled into a smile. I muttered slowly¡ª "I was right." Chapter-4 ( what would I become?) Different people are made for different things. I was normal. I had an ordinary, unremarkable family, a plain childhood, and though not many, I had two or three friends¡ªnothing out of the ordinary. I was happy. I was fine. Or so I told myself. Deep down, I knew I wanted none of it. When I was in seventh grade, I stumbled upon a stack of old, dust-covered books¡ªabandoned, forgotten, and surely discarded by my father. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe something greater drew me to them. When I asked if I could take them, he didn¡¯t even bat an eye, as if they were nothing more than air to him. So, I took them willingly. They were books on philosophy and history. The more I read, the more I realized how little I truly knew. Everything I had taken for granted¡ªtruth, reality, even my own existence¡ªcould all be illusions, deceptions woven into the fabric of the world. One line, in particular, stayed with me: "I think, therefore I am." It resonated deeply, shaking the very foundation of who I thought I was. Perhaps that was the moment my personality shifted. Not in a bad way¡ªjust in a way that society did not accept. Then, I opened the history books. I discovered the miracle workers¡ªthe ones who shaped the world through their sheer power. Their feats were not merely extraordinary; they defied the limits of human will itself. Alexander the Great, who carved an empire from the known world before he was even thirty. Genghis Khan, who united the steppes and forged the largest contiguous empire in history. These were not just men; they were forces of nature, bending fate itself to their will. The more I read, the more I felt a fire awakening inside me. Could I, too, become more than ordinary? Could I break free from the path that had been set for me? The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I was no longer just reading history. I was searching for a way to carve my own. But we were born in the 20th century¡ªa time when the world had already been carved up, its borders drawn, its rulers settled. I knew of a certain mustached man who tried to reshape it in his own image, and I knew his fate. But maybe it was because, just days ago, I had read that philosophy book¡ª¡°I think, therefore I am¡± still echoing in my mind¡ªthat I began to truly think about the miracle workers, their deeds, their methods, and their reasons. How did they do what they did? Why did they move the world when so many others simply lived and died unnoticed? I didn¡¯t just admire them. I wanted to be them. But to be fair, the 20th century was the most boring time to be born into. I started to feel, more and more, like I didn¡¯t belong in this place. There was no grand battle to fight, no empire to conquer, just a world running on routines and machines. Maybe that¡¯s why, after my studies, I began to consider joining the military. It wasn¡¯t just about service¡ªit was about finding something real. A way to break free from the dullness, to be part of something that could shake the world, even if just a little. --- The crisp, stifled air refused to carry sound. The world around us hung in eerie silence, as if time itself had held its breath. Trees stood frozen mid-sway, their leaves suspended in the unnatural stillness. Even the birds, which moments earlier had been chirping their dawn melodies, were now lifeless forms¡ªfrozen in place as if encased in invisible amber. Ryan¡¯s voice cut through the quiet like a distant echo. ¡°Subba, are you okay?¡± I turned to him, my legs heavy, each step on the unmoving road felt like dragging weights through syrup. I must have looked dazed because his face darkened with concern. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I lied. The truth was, my thoughts were spiraling. This wasn¡¯t just survival. This was something else¡ªsomething profoundly wrong. I knew it, Ryan knew it, but neither of us dared speak it aloud. Were we anomalies? Or was this some kind of punishment¡ªa cruel joke played by the universe? My mind drifted back to the miracle workers¡ªthe Alexanders and the Khans of history. They had changed the world through sheer willpower, shaping civilizations and bending reality to their desires. But as I glanced at the frozen reality around me, a bitter truth stung: perhaps my admiration for them was misplaced. They were men who ruled over the known, while here I was, navigating the unknown. The hunger was beginning to gnaw at us both. ¡°There has to be someone,¡± Ryan muttered, his voice tinged with desperation. ¡°Somewhere.¡± But my thoughts returned to that darker possibility: If we found someone, what would they be to us? Ally or adversary? Would we greet them with open arms, or would our primal instincts force us to see them as competition¡ªor worse, as sustenance? I couldn¡¯t answer that. Not yet. All I knew was that the fire within me, the one that had been sparked years ago by dusty philosophy books and tales of history¡¯s giants, was now burning hotter than ever. The question was no longer, ¡°How far would I go?¡±¡ªit was, ¡°What would I become?¡± Chapter-5 (This idiot) We walked, and we walked. Days must have passed. At least, it felt that way. But the moon remained frozen in the sky, an unmoving eye watching over us. The silence was absolute¡ªunchanging, suffocating, endless. Huff¡­ Huff¡­ Ryan collapsed onto the ground. We had no food. No water. No sign of civilization in sight. And yet, we kept walking, kept moving forward on this endless road that stretched into nothingness. Were we even still on Earth? The thought gnawed at me, but the towering pine trees, the thick air, and the only other light in the sky besides the moon¡ªVenus¡ªtold me that we were. Yes, this was Earth. But where on Earth? Our destination was the mountain range. Yet the thick undergrowth refused to end, stretching endlessly no matter how far we walked. The ecosystem of a mountain range wasn¡¯t like this. Then we must still be in the valley. But there were no hills in sight either. "Let''s rest for a while," I said, looking down at Ryan. He nodded weakly, his breath shallow. He was on the edge of losing hope. Hunger had hollowed out his face, darkened his skin, and cracked his lips. He looked like a soldier who had marched too far without rest. I didn¡¯t care much. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I was hungry too, but I could still move. Maybe it was my mental strength, my optimism, or my rationality. I considered myself a philosopher, after all. Or maybe it was just my training¡ªmy preparation to apply for the military. Either way, I was grateful to my past self. As I was thinking, Ryan, who had been silent for the entire journey, finally spoke. "Subba, you know..." He trailed off. I frowned slightly and asked in a hoarse voice, "What?" Ryan had always been the obedient type. He never denied anything, always followed orders without question. Just like that time he sat down on the bus with a thud simply because the teacher told him to rest. "I¡¯m not from here," Ryan murmured, his gaze fixed on the crimson moon. The red glow reflected in his sweat, making it shimmer like a jewel. He was a handsome man¡ªif not for the messy bangs covering his face. I listened carefully to every word he said. To be honest, I was expecting something ridiculous. Maybe he would say he was from another world. Maybe he would claim he had been isekai¡¯d into our world, and now this was his hero¡¯s arc. Such thoughts weren¡¯t rational. But then again, neither was this situation. Time wasn¡¯t moving. The world around us was frozen. This wasn¡¯t something humans could do. Tck¡­ tck¡­ I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on Ryan¡¯s words. But in the back of my mind, I prayed that my absurd thoughts wouldn¡¯t turn out to be true. "I¡¯m actually from the countryside," he said. "I have a family there. It¡¯s far from here. My father is a barber. My mother is a housewife. My little sister¡­ she¡¯s in the fourth grade." I let out a breath I didn¡¯t realize I was holding. Normal words. A normal story. Tck¡­ tck¡­ I scoffed at myself. I must be losing my mind. Ryan started reminiscing. He spoke of his home, his childhood, his family. "I wanted to be a doctor. There are very few doctors in my village. I thought if I became one, the people who looked down on us would finally respect us. That I would be the pride of my family." He paused. Then added, "Of course, money was another reason." It might have sounded like a joke to break the awkwardness, but Ryan sat too straight. His face was too serious. Tears began falling down his cheeks. He didn¡¯t seem to notice. His gaze remained locked on the crimson moon. Maybe he was lost in the past¡­ or mourning the future he knew he would never have. Ryan was the only person I had left. So I decided¡ªI needed to make him trust me. "I¡¯m from this city," I said. "My father works at a company. We¡¯re not rich or anything¡ªjust normal middle-class people. I also had a dream of becoming a doctor." At the mention of "doctor," Ryan¡¯s eyes widened slightly. His lips twitched, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled¡ªjust barely. I continued, "I want to save people. I can¡¯t stand watching them die." Of course, that was a lie. A calculated one. Ryan believed every word. But that wasn¡¯t enough. To make my words matter, to solidify my authority over him, I threw out one final lie. (A lie that, unknowingly, would become the best thing I ever did.) "We were from a royal family." Ryan¡¯s face stiffened. His mouth fell slightly open. He completely believed me. This idiot. I hid my smirk. --- Chapter 6: The True Nature of Subba I didn¡¯t expect it. I didn¡¯t want to believe it. But here I was, walking side by side with a man I had known as nothing more than a fellow survivor, only to learn that he was something far more¡ªsomething I couldn¡¯t comprehend. Subba, royalty? I glanced over at him, the man who had led me through this forsaken place with silent determination, his pace unchanging despite the fatigue in our bones. Subba wasn¡¯t just a survivor. He wasn¡¯t just a man with a plan. He was royalty, someone whose bloodline should have made him above the struggles we were facing. When he said it, his voice almost casual, like he was speaking about something mundane, it rattled me to my core. "We were from the royal family," he had said, his tone emotionless, like it meant nothing. I stopped walking, staring at him for a long moment. "Wait, what?" I asked, my voice hoarse with disbelief. "Royalty? You? No way." But Subba didn¡¯t even look at me. His gaze remained ahead, steady, almost distant. The faint glow from the crimson moon reflected in his eyes, making him look otherworldly, as if the very heavens were aligning with his presence. His eyes weren¡¯t tired like mine, weren¡¯t filled with uncertainty. There was a cold certainty in them, something that made me question everything I thought I knew. "I am not like the others," he said quietly. "I¡¯m built for something greater than this... than us." The words sank into me, swirling like poison. I couldn¡¯t help it¡ªthe jealousy, the feelings of inferiority hit hard. He knew his purpose. He knew his worth. And I was just... me. A man who couldn¡¯t even make it through a simple journey without questioning my own strength. But there was something else. Something deeper in Subba¡¯s words, something that made my stomach churn. At that moment I thought I could trust this man told lead me completely. --- If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. We kept walking, though now there was a strange weight in the air, an unsettling stillness between us. We walked for what felt like another day, though I wasn¡¯t sure if it had been hours or weeks. The world around us remained unchanged: silent, dark, and oppressive. And finally, the only signs of life¡ªthree distant houses, their lights faint in the dark. Were they real? Or were they just another trick of this cursed world? Subba didn¡¯t hesitate. He stopped, glancing at the horizon, his eyes scanning the houses in the distance. He seemed to think long and hard, and it wasn¡¯t until a few moments had passed that he finally spoke. ¡°We move to the closest one,¡± he said, his voice firm, decisive. I watched as he pointed toward the house closest to us. The red hut. I nodded, though something gnawed at me. The other houses stood farther off, their distance making them seem unreachable. One was small and gray, tucked away in the dark; another looked ancient, wooden, and completely out of place in this century. But the red hut¡ªit was right there. Subba had made the decision, and for some reason, I felt like I could trust him in that moment. He knew where to go. He had a plan, and it felt like the right choice. We started moving toward the red hut, the ground beneath us hard and unforgiving. As we walked, though, something strange happened. The hut seemed to remain just out of reach. The closer we got, the farther it felt, as if mocking our attempts to get closer. But Subba didn¡¯t slow down. He moved forward without hesitation, as if nothing in the world could stand in his way. I, on the other hand, could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at me. My legs felt like they would give way at any moment, my hunger gnawing at my insides. I tried to keep up, but with every step, the distance seemed to stretch further and further. My body was giving out, and I couldn¡¯t keep moving. ¡°Subba...¡± I whispered, my voice barely more than a rasp. "Subba, we need to stop. I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t go on like this." But Subba didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t turn back. He kept walking forward, his gaze unwavering. The moment hit me then. I collapsed on the ground, unable to move any longer. My stomach twisted in hunger, my body too weak to function. I watched as Subba¡¯s figure continued forward, growing smaller with every passing moment. His pace never slowed. His determination didn¡¯t falter. And in that moment, it became clear to me. Subba wasn¡¯t like me. He wasn¡¯t just another survivor. He was royalty. He didn¡¯t need me. --- I lay there, alone, abandoned. The cold air gripped me, and the world seemed to fade away. Subba was leaving me behind, and there was nothing I could do about it. In that moment, I knew¡ªhe was always going to move forward, with or without me. And I? I was just a burden. The darkness closed in. --- I died. Alone. Abandoned. Left behind like a useless piece of debris in a forgotten world. --- And then... everything twisted. Sussssssssss! ... .. . Time ... rewound. Once again, I found myself standing in the same place, my breath shallow, my heart pounding. I was back at the beginning. The road stretched ahead, the same oppressive silence surrounding me. The crimson moon hung above us, unchanged. And Subba¡ªhe was beside me, walking ahead, completely unaware. I had been given another chance. But for what? To follow him again? To fail again? This time... this time I wouldn¡¯t be left behind. I wouldn¡¯t make the same mistake. I would see through him. I would uncover the truth of his world, of this world, and I would survive. And if that meant sacrificing him to do so... then so be it. ( Author: we will see about that ??)