After what felt like an eternity, he noticed a small dot of dark green light—no larger than a grain of rice, barely visible in the vast blackness…

Yet as he continued swimming, the dot grew. Slowly, it became clearer and more distinct.

It was a colossal creature, its massive frame reminiscent of a human body—yet horribly distorted, twisted into an abomination beyond reason.

Ik estimated its size—nearly a thousand square kilometers of nightmarish flesh.

The beast moved on all fours, its massive form hunched forward as if carrying something on its back. From a distance, it almost resembled an ape.

Ik pressed forward, drawn toward the monstrosity. With each stroke, more of its ghastly details emerged from the shadows. And then, at last, he saw it.

A massive structure—an entire building—resting atop the creature’s back.

A flicker of hope ignited within him, small yet undeniable. A faint smile crept onto his weary face.

"When I wandered the surface in my previous attempts, I never saw anything—no creatures, no structures—only those pale monsters and the mountains made of their writhing bodies… But now… now there’s this colossal beast moving through the abyss… and that building atop it…"

His smile widened. He swam harder, faster, forgetting the horror before him, focusing only on the possibility ahead.

"I have to try. Even if I fail, even if I die, I will always regenerate."

Then—

The creature turned.

Its enormous, soulless black eyes locked onto Ik.

At that moment, terror unlike anything he had ever known seized him. His entire body convulsed, every fiber of his being screaming at him to flee, to escape to the farthest reaches of this cursed world.

And yet—he could not move.

His limbs refused him, frozen in sheer, primal fear. Tears welled in his eyes but did not fall, trapped as he was in paralyzing dread.

He willed himself to act, to swim away—to do anything. But his body remained still. Trembling, his hands slowly rose to cover his face, as if shielding himself from the nightmare before him.

Perhaps it was instinct. Perhaps it was desperation.

But it worked.

The moment his vision darkened, his heart—raging like a war drum—began to calm.

For a long time, he remained in that state, his breath shallow, his body stiff.

And when he finally lowered his hands—

The creature was gone.

Had it lost interest in him? Had it deemed him too insignificant to care about?

Ik didn’t know.

He didn’t wait to find out.

He spun around and fled, seeking cover behind a large rock nearby. Once hidden, his mind raced.

"Damn it… Damn it… Damn it… What in all hells was that thing?!"

He clutched his chest, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to think.

"That building—it must be important. Something inside it is worth guarding. But how? How did anyone construct something atop a monster like that?"

His fear ebbed, replaced by curiosity. Yet even as his thoughts cleared, exhaustion set in.

"I want to escape this nightmare… but I don’t want to throw myself into death blindly. Even with my regeneration, I need to be careful."

"I should run… I should tr—"

His vision blurred. The world around him twisted and spun.

"What… is happening…?"

A dizzying sensation overtook him, as if he had been thrown into a colossal vortex. His limbs felt impossibly heavy, his breath shallow.

He struggled to move, but his body no longer obeyed.

It was as if his mind had run a marathon for far too long.

Fatigue, like an unseen weight, pressed down on him. And for the first time, the thought of surrendering to sleep became alluring.

"A short nap wouldn’t hurt… Even if a monster appears, it won’t be able to do much to me. After all, I’m stronger than most of the creatures in this world… except for the rare ones, like the one I just encountered…"

He slumped against the rock, shifting until he found a comfortable position. And in mere moments—

He fell asleep.

---

Unbeknownst to Ik, he was being watched.

From the shadows, a group of seven figures observed his every move.

Each one wore an eerie mask, their bodies clad in dark armor woven from scales and cured leather. Around their wrists, bands of aged, yellowed hide adorned them like relics of a forgotten time.

When they saw him drift into sleep, their leader gave a silent nod.

Two among them stepped forward in response.

One wore a mask split between a melting sun and the head of a serpent. The other, a woman, bore a mask shaped like a crystalline feather, gilded in yellow hues.

Upon receiving their leader’s command, they nodded back.

As they approached Ik, the bracelets on their wrists shifted—morphing, twisting. In an instant, weapons materialized in their grasp.

The man now wielded a longsword, its hilt adorned with the emblem of a half-risen sun.

The woman carried a silver tachi, simple and unadorned.

They drew closer, their eyes fixed on the sleeping figure before them.

The woman hesitated, glancing at her companion. He gave her a silent nod.

She stepped forward, raising her blade. Gently, she moved it side to side, studying him, searching for any sign—any indication—that he was not human.

But there was nothing.

Minutes passed as she tested for signs of inhumanity.

Finally, she turned to her companion.

"It’s fine," she said. "He’s just a human—nothing more. He collapsed from exhaustion."

At this, the man looked toward their leader and gestured.

The rest of the group approached.

Their leader, his mask adorned with tattered green leaves, gazed down at Ik.

"Report."

"Everything is clear, sir," the man with the sun-serpent mask answered. After a pause, he added, "He appears to be nothing more than an ordinary human."

The leader considered this for a moment. Then, decisively, he issued his command.

"Take him. We’re bringing him to the city."

One of the masked figures protested.

"But, sir! He could be dangerous! He’s not from our city—why should we risk bringing him back?"

The leader’s gaze shifted from Ik to his subordinate. His voice, calm yet firm, carried finality.

"These are the orders of Elder Monroe. Do you wish to question Elder Monroe’s will?"

At the mention of that name, silence fell.

All eyes turned to the protester—a man whose mask bore the face of a chicken.

The man stiffened, fists clenching at his sides. He swallowed hard before speaking, his voice unsteady.

"N-no… I have no objections, sir."

A chuckle broke the tension.

"Come now, Captain. Don’t be too harsh on Chicken. He’s still young—only twenty-six. We ought to guide him with patience, don’t you think?"

The voice belonged to another masked soldier—one adorned with the visage of a pig. He placed a hand on Chicken’s shoulder, grinning.

"Right, Chicken? We’re all comrades here."

A shudder ran through Chicken’s body. He shoved the pig’s hand away, ignoring him.

"I will improve my decision-making. I won’t make the same mistake again, sir."

"See that you don’t," the leader replied, hoisting Ik onto his back.

"Now, let’s move. We’re heading back to the city."

As they walked, Chicken glared at Pig, his voice low and threatening.

"Touch me again, and I’ll kill you. The only reason you’re still breathing is because your father is my father’s friend. Otherwise, you’d be rotting in some beast’s stomach by now."

Pig raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling.

"Oh, come now, friend. No need to be so hostile—I was only joking."

A female soldier, her mask adorned with delicate feathers, scoffed as she passed them.

"Idiot. Lay a hand on him again, and I’ll be the one to kill you."

The man with the sun-serpent mask laughed, clapping Pig on the shoulder.

"You really are despised by everyone, my friend. If you don’t change your ways, you might just find yourself abandoned one day."

And so, Pig was left behind, watching them go.

He sighed, muttering under his breath.

"Kids these days… No sense of humor."