VIP System

Chapter 58 - In the Wake of Darkness

The world around Leo spun violently, each rotation a blur of pain and chaos. Silva's punch struck with the force of a meteor crashing into the earth, tearing through the cave ceiling as though it were paper in a storm. It tore open as he blasted through it, the cold night air hitting him like a wall as he was flung into the open sky.

His perception was a whirlpool of agony and disorientation, the events of his ultimate defeat intertwining with the image of Roxanne being torn from him. It swirled through his mind like a relentless plague, a festering wound that refused to heal. The helplessness gnawed at him, a relentless beast tearing at his soul. Losing Roxanne wasn't just a failure—it was a condemnation.

He hadn't been strong enough, hadn't been fast enough. She had been taken from him because he hadn't deserved to protect her.

As he flew through the air, another memory surfaced, uninvited: his last moments on Earth. The crushing despair of facing an unstoppable force, the inevitable doom that had loomed over him—back then, it had been a freak accident, a force of nature he couldn't comprehend or fight. Now, in this world, it felt disturbingly familiar. Once again, he was up against a power far beyond his control, and the same suffocating helplessness now wrapped around him, dragging him deeper into the abyss of his own mind.

Leo's body collided with the ground like a discarded ragdoll, no energy left to resist or defend himself. He hit with a sickening thud, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through his already battered form. He tumbled and bounced across the forest floor, each collision with the earth or the trunks of trees a reminder of his utter defeat. The ground tore at him, rocks and debris cutting into his flesh as he skidded across the landscape like a stone cast across a river's surface.

Everything hurt, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the torment inside his mind. The images of Roxanne, taken from him, played over and over like a broken record. It was carved into his soul, a wound that bled sorrow and rage.

Eventually, his broken form came to a stop, half-buried in the splintered remains of a fallen tree. He lay there, gasping for breath, the world around him eerily silent except for the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. The night sky above, visible through the ragged canopy of trees, offered no comfort—just a vast emptiness that mirrored the hollow ache in his chest.

Leo tried to move, but his body refused to obey. Every inch of him screamed in agony, his muscles trembling with the effort. The stars above him blurred as tears welled up in his eyes, not from the physical pain, but from the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume him.

He had lost. He had failed.

"Roxanne..." he whispered, his voice barely audible, choked with blood and emotion. The name was a plea, a desperate cry into the void. But there was no response. Only the cold, indifferent night.

The weight of his defeat pressed down on him like a mountain, and for the first time since he had been thrust into this world, Leo felt the crushing desire to simply give up. What was the point of fighting if everything he cared about could be ripped away in an instant? What was the point of living if he was doomed to repeat the same cycle of helplessness and despair?

Then, something new surfaced within him—a thought, sharp and unbidden. What if he walked away? The question was sudden, jolting him like a splash of ice-cold water.

What if he just... stopped?

Stopped fighting, stopped struggling against the relentless tide that seemed determined to drag him under. The idea was both terrifying and strangely liberating.

For a brief, startling moment, Leo imagined it—letting go, abandoning the fight, surrendering to the cold, suffocating void. The thought lingered, a bitter sweetness to it. No more battles, no more loss, no more pain. Just silence. Would it be so different from what he left behind on Earth? Would anyone truly care if he disappeared into the void, like so many before him?