(Erza's POV)
The room was quiet, except for the soft ticking of the wall clock and the rhythmic sound of Yuuta's breathing.
He was lying on the sofa, a blanket draped over him, his chest rising and falling gently. His face was calm, his features relaxed in sleep. Almost like a child.
For a moment, everything felt still.
I sat beside him, barely moving, just watching. And somehow… being near him like this made my heart feel steady. Safe.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
I always knew.
You wouldn't live forever.
A tear slid down my cheek before I even realized it was there.
You reckless idiot... How can someone so fragile be so brave?
Even with that weak body of yours, you never hesitated. I still remember when you jumped into the lion enclosure without thinking—just to protect Elena. You didn't even pause. That's always been you.
The boy who tries to carry the world, even when your own shoulders are barely holding together.
And maybe that's why I always felt protected when I was with you.
Like nothing could really go wrong.
But now…
Now, just looking at you hurts.
"Yuuta," I whispered, brushing a bit of hair from his forehead.
His face twitched.
At first, I thought he was waking up. But then—
"No… please… I'm sorry… I'll be a good kid… please don't hurt me…"
My stomach dropped.
He was crying. In his sleep but what make me shock is it's been hour and he still haven't woke up from my spell.
"Yuuta?" I leaned in, gripping his hand. "Hey—what's wrong?"
His whole body started shaking. Not like someone having a bad dream—but like he was trapped. Like something was gripping him from the inside.
"Yuuta!" I called out again, louder this time, panic rising in my throat.
Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me.
Calm. Familiar.
"Looks like his past memories are being triggered."
I turned around quickly—and froze.
Standing in the doorway was my grandfather. The same man I had watched step through the portal to Altanis only a few hours ago.
He stood there casually, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a half-melted ice cream cone like this was just another afternoon.
"I thought you left," I said, blinking in confusion.
"I was about to," he said. "But then I sensed a shift in the aura around him. Figured I'd better check."
My eyes narrowed. "What's happening to him?"
He walked further into the room, glancing down at Yuuta with a seriousness I didn't often see on his face.
"It's called Memory Rupture," he said quietly. "It's what happens when a spell meant to bury trauma begins to fail. The sealed memories start pushing back, clawing their way up to the surface."
I shook my head, trying to understand. "But… I don't remember casting anything like that on him."
"You didn't. Someone else did. A long time ago, maybe." He looked at Yuuta again. "But something—or someone—triggered the unraveling."
My chest tightened.
Did I cause this? Was it something I said? Something I did?
"He's in danger," Grandfather continued. "If those memories flood back all at once… it could break his mind. Trauma that deep—if it hits him all at once—it won't just hurt. It could destroy him. Mentally, even physically."
I looked down at Yuuta again. His face was twisted now. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His lips moved silently, like he was pleading with someone only he could see.
And I felt helpless.
"What do we do?" I asked, voice trembling. "There has to be a way."
"There is," he said after a moment. "We go into his memories. From the inside, we find the seal that's breaking. And you have to fix it."
I stared at him. "You mean… enter his memories?"
"Yes. But listen closely," he said, the seriousness in his voice anchoring me. "There's a risk."
"What kind of risk?"
"If you change anything in there—even by accident—it creates a false memory. And that false memory will conflict with reality. That kind of contradiction can cause even more pain. It'll confuse his mind. Make things worse. Much worse."
I didn't hesitate. "Then I won't change anything. Just tell me what to do."
My fingers tightened gently around Yuuta's.
My grandfather he said first calm yourself Erza take a deep breath first.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside my chest.
There was more to Yuuta than I ever knew.
According to Sister Mary—back before she left—Yuuta had been found in a slave market when he was just eight. She told me he was terrified of humans, silent and trembling, too broken to speak. She said the Elf Queen herself had ordered his rescue because he carried a dangerous aura. The only way he could live in peace… was to be sent here, to this world, where mana was scarce.
Back then, I believed that was his entire past.
But now… it feels like that was just a cover. A small sliver of something much darker.
A tip of the iceberg.
I need to see it all, I told myself. I need to understand the life he truly lived. Only then can I save him—not just his body, but his soul.
I turned to my grandfather, voice trembling.
"Please… help me save Yuuta."
He looked at me with eyes that had seen centuries of blood and battle. He had witnessed my strength, my fury—my ruthless side—but never like this.
Never helpless.
He let out a low sigh. "Once I perform this ritual, I won't be able to return to the Atlantis Kingdom for at least a week," he warned. "It will consume half of my mana."
"I don't care," I said. "I'll give anything."
He nodded solemnly. "Then let us begin."
We laid Yuuta down gently. His face was pale, drenched in cold sweat. His body twitched, murmuring under his breath—words I couldn't make out. His hands clenched at invisible things, like he was trapped in a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
"He's terrified," I whispered. "What is he seeing?"
My grandfather knelt beside him and placed his hand over Yuuta's heart. A pulse of mana spread outward, calming him—just enough.
Then he looked at me.
"Erza. Hold his hand. Lie down beside him. And whatever you do… when the spell begins, do not open your eyes."
I hesitated. Just for a breath.
Then I lay down beside Yuuta, fingers intertwined with his.
"Good," he said softly.
Then, without a word more, he bit into his thumb. Dragon blood—thick, warm, ancient—dripped from the wound.
He pressed it to Yuuta's forehead.
Then mine.
Power surged through me like lightning. Not violent—but old. Deep. Like the heartbeat of the world itself.
He clasped both our hands and began the incantation.
The words weren't from any language I knew.
They didn't sound like words at all—more like echoes of time itself bending around us. The air grew thick. My breath caught. My vision flickered.
And then—
Darkness.
My body felt weightless. My senses scattered like wind.
I was drifting in an empty void, a world without color or sound. No sky. No floor. Just endless, crushing black.
"Yuuta?" I called out.
No answer.
"Yuuta!"
Still nothing.
Then—movement.
A soft, flickering glow appeared in the distance. A tiny orb of light. Then another. And another.
They looked like little flame spirits—round, glowing beings with blinking big eyes, no faces, and a gentle warmth that somehow comforted me.
They floated to me like children… and took my hand.
Without a word, they guided me.
With each step I took, the void beneath my feet began to change—forming slowly into something solid.
And then, just ahead…
I saw it.
A long corridor, sterile and cold. Bright red lasers cutting across metal doors. Walls lined with machinery I didn't recognize.
This place…
It didn't belong to any kingdom I knew.
It was something else.
Something far worse.
The flame spirits tightened their grip.
I felt my heart start to race.
I hadn't even entered the first room yet.
And already—I knew.
What I was about to see… would change everything.
The spirits guided me forward in silence.
Their small, warm hands didn't shake—yet mine did.
We stepped through the veil of shadows, and suddenly, I was there—inside a massive underground facility, cold and metallic, buzzing with faint pulses of mana. It didn't feel like a lab.
It felt like a prison for souls.
Laser grids blinked across the ceiling. Every door was sealed with enchantments—runes I had never seen before, humming with raw energy. High-tech and high-magic, fused into something horrifyingly efficient.
The doors were numbered backwards:
Lab 5. Lab 4. Lab 3. Lab 2. Lab 1.
Each room told its own nightmare.
Lab 5.
The door opened without a sound.
Inside, the air reeked of chemicals and blood. There were glass tubes—ten of them—each taller than me, filled with a thick, reddish fluid. And floating inside…
Children.
Lifeless. Twisted. Still.
One had no head—only wires where the neck should be. Another's spine floated separately from their body, disconnected and curled like a serpent. A third had eyes that were wide open, but hollow—glass eyes that stared through me.
I felt… nothing.
Lab 4.
Burn marks covered the walls. The ceiling was scorched with blast residue—mana explosions, maybe. Inside each chamber, more glass tanks… but these had been shattered.
Some of the bodies had melted—fused with metal.
One child's chest was split open, organs crystallized and suspended mid-air by some spell, like a failed attempt to control the body from the inside.
I gritted my teeth.
Still no tears.
Just… numbness.
Lab 3.
This room was colder.
Literally. A freezing aura enveloped it—ice spells layered across every surface. Each child was frozen in place inside the tubes, their bodies cracked like porcelain dolls.
Frost clung to their lips. Their fingers were black.
A failed experiment in cryo-magic.
A cruel one.
Lab 2.
Everything here pulsed red.
A rhythmic thump-thump-thump echoed like a heartbeat.
But it wasn't heartbeats I was hearing.
It was a machine—syncing blood from the tubes to the walls.
One child still moved. Barely. A twitch. A flicker. Then stillness again.
I watched as a spell-triggered needle pierced their arm again, draining the last of what little life remained.
I closed the door behind me.
Fast.
Lab 1.
This one broke something in me.
All the lights were off.
I stepped in, led by the flickering flame spirits. My boots splashed against something sticky.
Blood. Thick. Dried.
The tubes were gone. Only torn cables remained. Claw marks scored the walls.
Something had escaped.
Or maybe… tried to.
In the far corner, I saw a small handprint, smeared in crimson.
Small. Fragile.
Like Yuuta's hand.
I didn't speak.
I couldn't.
The spirits looked up at me, almost sorrowful now.
And then, they turned… and pointed to one last door.
Lab 0.
The final chamber.
Its door… was already open.
I stepped inside.
Bright white lights hummed overhead. The room was spotless, terrifying in its order.
Five figures in white robes moved around the central platform— human scientists, or maybe something worse. They worked calmly, confidently, unaware of me, as if time hadn't noticed I was there.
And then I saw it.
In the center of the room stood a high-grade containment tube—enchanted, pressurized, surrounded by layered protection spells only dragons or gods could break.
Inside the tube floated a child.
A boy.
He couldn't have been older than four.
Black hair drifting in fluid. Wires embedded in his back, chest, and limbs. An oxygen mask pressed against his face. His small hands were clenched into trembling fists.
His eyes…
His eyes were wide.
Afraid.
Burning red.
He was watching them—those scientists—watching them move like monsters around him. One was adjusting the mana feed. Another typed notes. A third began prepping a syringe filled with something glowing green.
And he just… stared.
Frozen in fear.
That's when I felt it.
My breath left me.
A chill spread through my spine like someone had plunged me into ice.
Because I knew those eyes.
That hair.
That helpless terror.
It was Yuuta.
To be continued....
Note – From Yuuta (Yeah, that me):
Hey everyone,
It's Yuuta here—and yeah, I know. The updates have been a little slow lately, and maybe you've noticed the story picking up speed out of nowhere. You might be wondering: "Why does it feel like everything's suddenly rushing?"
Well… that's actually how it was meant to be all along.
You see, this story—my story—was always built on three wishes. That's the heart of everything. So if things feel like they're spiraling faster, it's because we're finally diving deep into what really matters.
Now, about those memory scenes—
I've seen a few of you wondering: "How can Erza see Yuuta's past like an outsider?"
Here's the truth: Those are my memories. When someone enters them—whether through magic or something else—they can only observe. No interfering. No changing anything. Just… watching. Painful, huh?
And hey, before I go—just one small warning:
In the next chapter… you might want to keep a handkerchief nearby. No, seriously. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Thanks for sticking with me.
This journey's far from over.
See you in the next chapter.
—Yuuta