Prince of The Ruined Kingdom

I stared at Mira, still lying on the ground, her body trembling in silent sobs. Her tears fell slowly, dripping onto the cold cave floor. My heart felt unbearably heavy seeing her like this. I didn't know what to say, but the sight of her made my chest tighten.

"What have you done…" I whispered, more to myself than to Mira. A wave of guilt washed over me, though it was mixed with deep confusion.

In my mind, the other part of me—my colder, harsher side—buzzed, unwilling to accept my endless softness. "Give it up, Arche. This is pointless. You know Mira is broken now, and it's not our fault." The voice was as cold and detached as always.

I closed my eyes, trying to suppress my frustration, but I couldn't just let it go. "Not our fault?!" my voice cracked as I argued internally. "Look at her! She's like this because we kept provoking her, pushing her to the edge! Because you wouldn't stop seeing her as a threat, ignoring her condition!"

"Oh, so it's my fault?" the other me snapped back, its tone sharper. "She is a threat, Arche! She's tried to kill us multiple times! Have you forgotten how she swung those scissors with the intent to kill? Do you really think she'd change just because you showed her some compassion?"

I shook my head, though it was pointless. "It's not about whether she's dangerous or not—it's about how we treated her. You pushed too far. Look at her now—mentally and emotionally shattered. Is that what you wanted? To watch someone break like this?"

The other me was silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "Listen, Arche. I don't care about your morals or the teachings of Oriana. This world is cruel. If we're not strong, we'll be destroyed. And Mira, in the end, is just one of the many threats we'll face. You can't keep trying to be kind to everyone, especially those who've tried to kill you."

"That's no excuse!" I countered, my voice firming. "The Goddess Oriana teaches us to love all people, regardless of whether they're friend or foe. I can't abandon that just because things are difficult right now."

He laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "Sure, hold on to your morals. But look where we are now—trapped in a dark cave, surrounded by monsters, and you still want to be kind to the girl who nearly killed you? It's laughable."

I fell silent, staring at the ground. His sarcastic tone only fueled my anger, but I knew, in this situation, he wasn't entirely wrong. Still, that didn't mean I could accept how he had treated Mira.

I turned my gaze back to Mira, still sobbing, her body looking so frail. A deep sense of pity rose within me, something I couldn't ignore. No matter what had happened before, no one deserved to be broken like this. Mira was dangerous, yes, but she was also human—and humans can change.

"Look at her now," I said softly, my voice calmer but thick with emotion. "Mira isn't a threat anymore. She's broken. And she needs help. We can't just leave her like this."

"Do what you want," the other me spat, the sharpness in his voice returning. "But don't expect me to care about this."

With that, he fell silent, retreating into the darker corner of my mind.

I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. Despite the conflict raging within me—the battle between compassion and survival—I couldn't just leave someone to suffer in front of me. No matter how much of a threat she once posed, she was still a person—a person in pain, alone.

I crouched beside Mira, moving carefully as I tried to approach her gently. "Mira…" I called out softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. There was no response, only the sound of her broken sobs.

I wanted to say the right thing, but the words felt stuck. "I know… I know you're hurting. You feel alone, like everyone's abandoned you. But… Mira, I'm not going to leave you."

She didn't respond, didn't even move. I could feel the depth of her emotional wounds.

I continued, even though uncertainty gripped me. "What Abigail said… it was harsh. But I don't think she meant it like that. She didn't mean to break you. She's just… scared. Like me, like Jack. We're all just trying to understand, but maybe we did it the wrong way."

Mira remained silent, her sobs the only sound in the cave. I watched her tear-streaked face, and my heart grew heavier.

"You know," I went on, "I'm not perfect either. I've made plenty of mistakes, just like everyone else. But one thing I do know is… I don't want anyone to suffer like this. And I know, deep down, you didn't really want to hurt us. You just didn't know how else to act, did you?"

Her sobs paused briefly, but still, she didn't answer. Maybe she was listening, or maybe she didn't care. But that didn't matter. I just wanted her to know I was there, that I wouldn't abandon her.

I sighed softly, looking at her with deep compassion. "I don't know how to fix this, but I'm going to try. I won't leave you alone again, Mira."

In my mind, the other part of me stayed silent, offering no further commentary. Whether he had given up on the argument or simply didn't care anymore, I didn't know. But for now, what mattered was doing what I felt was right.

I stayed beside Mira, waiting until she was ready to get up. My heart was heavy with pity, but there was a small glimmer of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she could rise from the darkness that had consumed her.

Even if she didn't answer, I would remain here. I could only hope that one day, she would see that she wasn't truly alone.

Neumann suddenly appeared before me in her digital form, hovering with a rare, serious expression. "Arche, we can't stay here much longer," she said firmly, her voice filling the dark cave. "I'm detecting movement from monsters in the surrounding area. They're spreading, and there's a high chance they'll reach us soon."

I heard her clearly, but my gaze remained fixed on Mira, still lying on the ground. She wasn't moving, only letting out the occasional faint sob that tugged painfully at my heart. Her voice was so weak, so fragile, as if she had lost the will to live.

I knew Neumann was right. We had to move before things got worse. But seeing Mira like this... I couldn't bear to leave her behind. How could I force her to walk in her current state?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling in my mind. "Alright, Neumann," I finally responded, "show us the way."

Neumann nodded and projected a virtual map in front of me, indicating a safer path. Still, my focus remained on Mira.

I knelt beside her, looking at her tear-streaked face. "Mira..." I called softly, but she didn't respond. Her sobs continued, almost uninterrupted. I bit my lip, feeling helpless in the face of her pain.

At last, I gently decided to lift her. She didn't resist, didn't react. Her body was limp, like a doll that had lost all its strength. I carried her on my back, and she remained silent. It felt like I was carrying more than just physical weight—there was an emotional burden, too.

As we began walking, following Neumann's directions, Mira's sobs echoed close to my ear. Each one sliced deeper into my heart. I didn't know how to soothe the pain she was feeling.

From time to time, she whispered broken words behind me, her voice barely audible. But every word pierced my chest. "I… should've died," she whispered, her voice shattered. "Without Abigail… I have no reason to live."

I clenched my fists, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. "Don't say that, Mira," I replied softly, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart felt heavy. "You're not alone. You still have us."

Mira didn't seem to listen, or maybe she just didn't believe it. "Abigail… she hates me," she said, her voice filled with despair. "She was the only reason I kept going. But now… she doesn't want me anymore. What's the point of living?"

Her words cut me deeply. I could feel how much she loved Abigail, and how devastated she was by everything that had happened. Finding the right words felt impossible. How could I help her when her entire world seemed to be crumbling?

We walked on in silence, only Mira's sobs and the sound of my footsteps on the cave's rocky floor breaking the quiet. Neumann continued guiding us, occasionally warning of nearby dangers, but my mind and heart were entirely focused on Mira on my back.

"Put me down…" she whispered again, this time her voice was firmer, though still fragile. "Leave me here… let me die. There's no point in me going on. I'm just… a burden."

I stopped walking but didn't put her down. I couldn't leave her behind, not now, not after everything we'd been through.

"No," I said, my voice more resolute this time. "I'm not going to leave you, Mira. I won't let you die here."

She was silent for a moment, perhaps surprised by the firmness in my voice. But then, she began to sob again. "Why… why won't you let me die? Wouldn't it be easier? You wouldn't have to carry me, you wouldn't have to keep worrying. Aren't I just a burden?"

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I held them back. "Mira, you're not a burden," I said quietly, but with all the emotion I could muster. "No one deserves to feel that way. You matter, even if you can't see it right now. Abigail might have said things that hurt you, but I'm sure she didn't mean them."

Mira didn't respond, but I could feel her pain. Every step I took felt heavier, not because of the physical weight, but because of the emotional strain. I knew her feelings wouldn't change overnight. This wasn't something that could be healed with words alone. But I wasn't going to give up.

"If the Goddess Oriana were here now," I continued, recalling the teachings I had always held onto, "she would tell you the same thing. She teaches compassion, even for those who are the most wounded. She wouldn't leave you behind, and neither will I. I won't let you die alone, Mira."

My words were interrupted by her louder sobs. But even though she didn't answer, I felt like a small part of her heart had heard what I said.

We kept walking through the dark cave, following Neumann's directions. My steps felt heavy, not just because of the physical burden, but because of the overwhelming empathy and desire to help Mira.

"Arche…" Mira whispered suddenly, her voice so weak, barely audible. "I… I don't know what to do. My life… feels meaningless without Abigail."

I paused for a moment, turning slightly to glance at her even though she couldn't see my face. "You still have us, Mira. We won't leave you."

She fell silent again, but I sensed that deep inside, something was beginning to change, no matter how small.

I kept walking, carrying Mira with me, hoping that eventually, we'd find our way out of this darkness—both physically and emotionally.

Neumann floated beside me, her digital face serious. "Arche, at this pace, the monsters I detected earlier will catch up to us soon. We need to move faster," she said urgently.

I heard her clearly, but with Mira still lying on my back, it was impossible to move as fast as I needed to. Tightening my grip on her, I prepared to pick up the pace when a loud crash suddenly echoed from the cave wall to our right.

From the now-collapsed wall emerged a monster with a drill-like head. Its body resembled a wolf's, but much larger, with mechanical parts taking over most of its frame. Its glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness of the cave.

"Watch out, Arche!" Neumann warned, but I had no time to react before the creature charged at me, knocking both me and Mira to the ground. We were thrown hard onto the cave floor, and I felt a sharp sting in my knee. But I quickly got up, pulling out my sickle knife. Chanting a spell, I summoned a protective barrier around us, a soft glow of energy forming a shield against outside threats.

But the mechanical beast wasn't alone. Several more appeared behind it, in various forms—larger mechanical wolves, some with small firearms embedded in their backs, ready to fire at any moment. They began to surround us, and I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

"Mira, hang on!" I shouted, but she lay there motionless, her face streaked with tears, utterly broken. She didn't even try to protect herself. Instead, she kept murmuring in a barely audible voice, "Leave me, Arche… Go… You have to go now."

I ignored her, reinforcing the barrier. "I'm not leaving you, Mira!" I called out, trying to keep my voice steady, though the situation was getting worse.

She finally sat up, but not to fight. She sat on the ground, weeping, her face soaked with tears. "Arche, please… just go. Let me die here. It's for the best," she said, her voice breaking, yet there was a strange finality in her tone, as if she had already made up her mind.

"I'm not doing that," I replied firmly, focusing on maintaining the barrier. But the monsters began attacking, slamming into it with increasing force. I could feel my spell trembling, on the verge of collapsing, but I kept holding on.

"You have to!" Mira suddenly shouted, her voice more desperate. "Let me go, Arche! There's no point in me living anymore. Abigail has left me… No one needs me. No one wants me anymore!" Her voice was full of despair, as if she had completely given up.

I clenched my fists, feeling anger boiling inside me. Not at Mira, but at this whole situation—at how fragile she felt, how deeply her love for Abigail had wounded her.

"Mira, I'm not going anywhere!" I shouted back, my voice echoing through the dark cave. I turned slightly to look at her even as the monsters continued to pound on my barrier. "You're wrong! Abigail might have said hurtful things, but that doesn't mean it's the end! You still have us! You still have me!"

Mira was silent for a moment, but tears continued streaming down her face. "You're lying," she whispered, her voice shaking. "No one wants me. Abigail hates me. She hates me, Arche…"

I shook my head hard, frustration and sorrow mixing in my chest. "No! You're wrong, Mira! Abigail doesn't hate you! She's just… she's hurt too, just like you are! You are needed! Even if you don't believe in yourself, I believe in you." My voice wavered, but I stood firm.

The monsters were getting closer, some of them already firing projectiles that struck my barrier with heavy blows. I could feel my magic weakening, but I wasn't going to give up. I wasn't going to leave Mira behind, no matter what.

"You are needed, Mira. Not just by me, but by Abigail too. I know she still needs you, and I promise you—I'll fix this. I'll make things right with Abigail if I have to!"

Mira fell silent again, her sobs continuing, but something had shifted. There was a long pause before she finally spoke, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the chaos around us. "You promise?"

I nodded, even though she couldn't see it clearly. "I promise," I replied, my voice unwavering.

Mira wiped her tears with trembling hands. "Then… then I'll trust you, Arche. But you have to keep your promise. Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone."

Relief washed over me, though the threat of the monsters remained real. "I won't leave you, Mira. We're getting out of here together. You and me, and we'll make things right."

With newfound strength welling up inside me, I chanted a new spell, reinforcing my barrier and preparing to face the monsters. Nothing was going to stop me now, not when Mira finally believed in me. I had made a promise, and I intended to keep it—for Mira, and for Abigail.

***