Ahhhh!

A bright flash of light.

That was the only thing he remembered before it all went dark.

For the next time he regained a sense of his surroundings, the youthful demon hunter found himself in a room far too foreign for his mind to capture all of a sudden, at a time too unexpected.

Whe-where am I ? Oh, come on! Where did… where did the others go? My—

It was a very unpleasant sight. To see a demon hunter groan in both physical and mental pain as he clasped his head with a hand, too busy fighting his own confusions to be aware that his armored gloves were missing.

But it was no use crying over a ruined past; the only way forward was to sail the boat of the present timeframe in an attempt to turn away from the tides of bad fortune.

Curses upon those vile filth! Daring to play foul games with me? Don’t they know who I am? Don’t they know my—

He paused his train of thoughts. Something was definitely not wrong. But he didn’t expect it to be too wrong such as now. The young demon hunter struggled to remember his own name, let alone his team members’.

How… What sort of magic is this? How could they use such devilry, and how was it so effective?

Whatever the reason was, now wasn’t the best moment to think about it.

First things first, he had to understand where was he, and what happened to all his gear and equipment that he had clearly remembered carrying and donned upon his well-built body the last time he was engaged in a thick fog of battle against a terrible tyrant of a demonic creature who had been oppressing innocent human kingdoms for decades.

But all the more questions grew little metaphorical mushrooms in his head that spread the spores around to breed more fungi and fern to adorn the beautiful mess. The tense emotions licked at his brain in the way an elf girl had once tried to seduce him (he had beheaded her in a single strike after discovering about her true intentions from a soothsayer visit). His own self was unaware of that memory far too dissolved into the horizon now.

Focus. Focus… Focuss…..

With each word being chanted in the portable cave beneath his hair the color of dark roasted cocoa cakes, he exhaled wisps of air out of his masculine lips.

He made use of his eyes, thankfully unhurt and still working without the need of optical myopic countermeasures, breathing in the environment spread around him in the shape of a room far too clean to be inside a typical dungeon.

Four walls on all cardinal directions were shimmering with a bright light, but not exactly bright enough to determine if the photons were being sent out by the illuminating surfaces or not. The room seemed to be bare from any furniture except for a bed-like structure attached to one of the walls. The ceiling and floor were lined with silver, making him see alternate views of his own body in third person based on the reflections.

And the sight shook him down to his bones.

!!!!

This demon hunter was no body builder, but he certainly was not a weak skinny person that he now saw himself as. He began wondering how long was he asleep or unconscious. If the room were a person, he’d be a very cruel jailor who wouldn’t offer a sip of water to a dying thirsty man – there were no windows nor any viable way to measure or know what time of the day it was outside. Was it night time alive with a chorus of wolves and nocturnal monsters? Was it morning, being enjoyed by a band of travelling merchants across this dungeon?

Is that me?! Huh? No way! There’s no way that’s a mirror. That ain’t me. It cannot be possible… I spent months training up my arms, legs and shoulders. Now who’s this cheap copycat here to mock me? What is this sorcery?

He stood up to aim a fist at the reflection and try to crack the glass above him, only now realizing that his hands were tied up in a sort of mystical bind.

Ugh.. Wow, this keeps getting better and better!

He chuckled, now surrendering to the sheer sarcasm of the situation.

Can’t believe I lost the fight against that demon. That—

His neck muscles tightened and the demon hunter shook his head with his eyes closed in an act of grimacing. Something was not wrong. But a lot of things were not right; he couldn’t bring himself to even remember the name of the powerful enemy that he was previously preoccupied with purging via defeat.

Magnetic discs were levitating near his wrists on each hand. Now that he had a closer look at them, they were inscribed with some runes in a language he wasn’t literate in.

For the first time in his conscious running memory, the demon hunter didn’t even know what to say.

…

Silence amplified itself to max volume, conquering this cell chamber as fast as it hadn’t existed before.

Thinking aloud or not, he knew one thing for sure: sitting around idly and complaining would not grow him wings out of thin air to somehow save him from this sticky situation. He must find a way out, as he had always done for the last twenty years of his life – until today.

Thankfully, his cerebellum showed signs of no fault, making his muscle memories guide his active sentience forward.

Walking a few steps forward, he examined the room in the likeness of how invigilators of the academy patrolled around the maze of student desks during theory quiz sessions. He could not find any openings nor exits.

*Sigh*How do I even get out of here?

Defeated by the lack of helpful options, he retraced his footsteps back to the bed panel. Right before taking a seat, he noticed his reflection on the ceiling seeming a bit closer than before.

Hmm… strange. I swear this mirror thing was a bit further than I remember a while ago.

Instantly, a forked lightning storm attacked his neurons, racing to send a signal from the result of a hundred simultaneous mental probability calculations about reading the room and analyzing possibilities.

The young warrior’s eyes grew wide and his pupils constricted. Based on the context of the room’s appearance and his shocked status, his stiff and still body would have made you think he was a statue, part of an exhibition on modern art or something.

Barely moving his other muscles, only his eyes jolted upward as the ceiling touched the top surface of his hairy head.

The room! The room is shrinking!

He wasn't a helpless fool. But he wasn't an optimistic pragmatician either.

In a horrifying moment like this, he couldn't be either.

A demon hunter. That's who he was, or atleast that's what he could remember.

But right now, his head and whole body was about to be crushed by a slowly sinking ceiling of a room that couldn't ever be labeled as 'hospitable' enough to keep people in. Inhumane tasteless designs aside, something had to be done. Fast.

He could have tried to escape by punching the walls so brightly-lit they appeared to be surface-emitting diodes. But his holding hosts were not generous enough to allow his hands to remain mobile – enchanted discs were wrapped around his wrists, tightly locked together to restrict much movement.

Whoever is responsible for this, I'll make sure every bone in their body remains as locked as my hands right now.

Despite having no time-telling device indoors, time itself was independently moving on its own. And right now, time was sadly on the wrong side of his favor.

He could feel the force of the ceiling now resting above his skull, the reflective surface continuously broadcasting his current ragged physical condition. All the more reasons to avert his eyes away from the hideous figure he couldn't recognize as his own.

Yeeting rational thoughts overboard, he called out and embraced any other unconventional ideas harvested by his stressed brain.

His legs were luckily not restrained.

SLAM-THUD!

But his legs also were not as strong as they used to be. No wonder why they hadn't locked up his legs. In that case, his arms were just as feeble. Why bother adding such rings to his hands?

He knew the reason.

Parts of his memories were melting back down to him. Or maybe it was a strand of information crammed into his involuntary brain neurons now afloat due to the chaotic search for solutions going on inside.

He was a well-trained demon hunter, able to make use of both melee weapons to strike foes with physical prowess alongside magical spells that could suffice for miracles while the local mage person was absent.

Clever. Very clever…

Once again, his shoulders felt the weight of the pest plants of defeat – especially boosted by the fertilizer fact that of all people, it was him. Why was he suffering? Why couldn't he solve this?

When you have a chain streak of having won so many occasions, every stab from failure feels a whole lot more deeper.

All of these thoughts ate up more chunks of precious time.

The demon hunter knelt down now, to avoid putting too much pressure down straight vertically onto his neck and spinal bones.

Break! Just break already!

He kicked at the wall again, trying to imagine the face of the last enemy he was fighting if it helped in increasing his morale.

THUD! THUNK-THUNK-THUD!

The kicks were not affecting the material in any way save for producing a lot of vibrations for diffracting through the air. Sound waves. Would there be someone out there to hear them?

Wishful thinking was not going to guarantee anything.

Ahhhhhh! Cursed beasts and filthy blood! Lemme out! GET ME OUT!

It was a good thing no one else was nearby to witness this scenario. Of how a decently powerful demon hunter had been brought to his knees screaming out for help. The rumors alone would have made him so embarrassed, he'd rather wish he would die here.

A peaceful death required a place of honor, not some claustrophobia simulator with not a single soul in sight.

He crouched down and tucked his body closer to his knees into a cradle position, staring down at the reflection on the floor matching up with its evil twin on the ceiling.

Is this it? This is the way I'm going to die?

The silence was so strong he could hear the high frequency non-stop humming of his neurons running faster than any steam-operated turbine or dwarven engine.

He let his mind sink down into depression, knowing now that death is near. Who cared if the person drew their last breath in happiness or sadness? What mattered more was being able to see some familiar faces to shake away the feelings of being lost and stranded in a different world in the afterlife. That was all any sane person could wish for.

But this demon hunter was not a sane fellow. Not when his mood becomes tainted with depression.

That is when nihilism kicks in, the very thought that whether you win or lose, the end is always in a graveyard, turned to dust and grain. To become food for the plants and animals that dwell within the skin of the planet, and contribute back to the nature which had nurtured him all his life.

To him, depression was the first stage of activating an unethical, unprincipled and unrelenting side of his mind – to him, all losses and negative emotions held his human side back while flushing out all the nasty, curious and irrationally-thinking personality traits.

Heck this! If I'm really going to die, there's one thing I must try. Not sure if it will do the trick, but these stupid rings have caused me enough problems. If I'm being destroyed, then so are these!

He carefully positioned his arms and legs in a way where his legs were ready to transfer any forces applied on them into an outward force between his arms.

I may not be strong anymore. But hey, as long as there's something moving with enough force… should be able to put it to good use.

The ceiling was now too low for making him stand up again – which was exactly what he had anticipated (and exactly what he needed). He couldn't help but smile at this current solution buzzing around his ears.

Yeaargh!

He kicked up into the air, landing one of his feet onto the surface of one mirror to balance with the other leg upon the second mirror.

One second passed by. Two seconds.

The first impact of the force sent a shockwave of pain across his legs and to his arms. On reflex, he shifted the position of his arms to bring the magnetic rings closer to his perpendicular legs. The painful sensation faded just as quickly as it had arrived.

Heheh… Now let's see how you survive…

The demon hunter spoke to the magnetic discs as if they were a personified version of his problems. The snail-shell-like organs in his ears sent the first sound wave apart from his own voice and fruitless wall-kick collisions.

CRACK!

He heard cracks reminiscent of fresh wood sometimes snapping and splitting when cast into a burning fireplace.

CRACK!

The ceiling was no longer moving down, but he knew for certain that the lock holding the magnetic rings was being stretched up.

He wondered what to do next if what he thought was going to happen actually happened.

CRACK-CLANG!

And so it happened.

Twenty years of demon hunting training work. Ever wondered what an individual with that much skill and experience is capable of when they are in their optimal mood?

He dived into a freshly-dented hole in one of the walls without thinking twice.

He was wrong. His expectations were wrong.

The cracking noises were that of an external entity lenient enough to drill a crudely-cut hole into the side of whatever crazy dungeon cell this was situated in. And before even trusting his own guts, he had been a fool to jump into the unknown.

Two pairs of eyes stared back to his own.

"You look alright, I think we should get moving then," a voice spoke before it changed directions.

"No, stop, wait!" another voice replied in turn. Higher pitched, indicating a female species. "I think… he looks familiar."

The young demon hunter still lay on the ground as his own body wrestled between a wave of dopamine that was prepared to reward his hyperactive behavior and a rivaling tsunami of adrenaline rushing up to punish him for it.

"Huh?" he spoke next as he got back up to his feet, outside the forsaken cell he was trapped in. His wrists were still chained up by the magnetic shackles, but after looking back at the remnants of the cell behind him, he was grateful that he had them on, atleast for absorbing all the incoming force from the ceiling before it kissed the floor and turned him into a squished bug. "Where is this place? Who are you people?"

His eyes observed the two figures in front of him, and felt relieved to meet the human duo in front of him. One of them had already turned his back on him. Based on the apparel worn by the two, he could identify them as battlemages, wearing matching dark blue robes lined with cyan-white fur edges complemented with glass vials and pocket-sized items dangling down from belts and pouches. The male one carried a large axe tipped with a sparkly gemstone while his sidekick held a staff missing the axe blade. Both their heads were colored in a stark opposite to his black hair – shaded in platinum blonde.

From these first impressions alone, it didn't bring regular inhabitants of the kingdom much difficulty in identifying these two wanderers as belonging to the Hon family, renowned for their natural resilience to cold environments, hence granting them beautiful fair skin and hair that reminded of the snowy ancestral homeland they hailed from.

The girl called out to her companion, with a significant visible age gap between them.

"Father, please wait," she called out to the middle-aged man sporting a stylish mustache and beard combination more suitable for younger men. "This survivor is different. I think I know him."

Really? You know me before I know myself?

Stepping closer, the girl's face transformed into her surprised expression.

"By the Divine above! Aren't you… Jinju? Jinju Wan?"

Huh?

His own name seemed very foreign to him now.

The Hon girl caught sight of the magnetic rings around his wrists and the runes on them. She was able to read them:

[ "Human, Wan Jinju, A-rank, High risk" ]

"Yes! You really are Jinju. You are him!" the female ice mage exclaimed. Jinju was too busy observing his own tiny reflection from the icy blue irises of her eyes, still too drunk on his bizarre combination of multiple emotions battling for supremacy inside his head. "Father, look. We found one of the Failed Heroes."

"The what? Failed Heroes?" Jinju the demon hunter didn't like the sound of that. He saw the Hon man approach his daughter, turning to him for more detailed answers. "Excuse me, but… Are you just going to walk away like that? I atleast owe you guys some thanks. And sorry to bother you with my questions, but I really need to assess the situation out here."

"What has happened?" the man took a glance at his daughter on account of calling him, and then to Jinju standing awkwardly with his wrists bound by the magnetic discs in front of him. "So you must be Jinju Wan, eh? Not that you look like the hero we remember, but hey… these Gargonian handtags say so," he pointed to the magnetic rings. "Nasty contraptions them, are. Sadly I don't have the necessary items to unlock it. If I did, you'd already be a free man, young lad."

"Uh-huh," Jinju nodded, borrowing a small moment of time to glance back at the cell he was stuck in, now turned into a pitch-black void that offered no scientific reasons. "Please guide me. Tell me what has happened so far. I'm lost. I've lost all my gear and I think I've lost my memories from my past, too," he lifted his arms a bit to show off the strange plain grey clothes he had found himself in since his awakening. "I know it's inconvenient for you two to have a new traveling partner, but for the least, please give me some answers about what is going on with the world. What brings you ice mages from the Hon dynasty out here in… whatever kind of dungeon this—."

The man held out a hand to tap on Jinju's shoulder, making him pause his lips from moving. Jinju's grey irises of his eyes now reflected off the calm, wise face of the Hon battlemage.

"Son, take a break. The world hasn't ended, so you need not worry. My name's Eolum Hon, and I was on a journey across the Gargonian Mountain Pass with my daughter Takira here. We usually travel to and from the Ichin Serko area and try to roam around any places of interest. It's a good thing that the Gargonians are no longer active," Eolum's eyes focused onto the magnetic rings around Jinju's wrists. "Or so we thought. Now, there are some things which even I don't have the answer to, young man. But all I can offer as a fact is this… we don't want to have any business with you, nor do we care about any survivors in this cave. The Gargonians were supposed to be extinct, but maybe the Council was wrong."

Gargonians? Mountains? A council?

Every new sentence pinned up a new mental note for Jinju Wan to think about.

"So we're inside a cave? Not a dungeon?"

"Wrong, my boy," Eolum removed his hand off the demon hunter's shoulder. "Like I said, I myself am struggling to bother with too many questions on my plate. It's better for you to find them yourself. Good luck on your path, and we'll continue on ours. Come, Takira, we are already running late behind schedule."

"But, father…" Takira spun around to keep up with Eolum's sudden unapologetic brisk walk away from Jinju. "He might be able to help us. He's that hero! That demon hunter fighting against…" She was now too far away to be audible correctly. Jinju began tailing them, as natural for someone with nowhere else to go and no one else to trust. At a closer distance, his ears picked up on the words again. "…all the other prisoners were in horrible condition. He can still fight. We just need to find a way to unlock his handcuffs."

"No, Taki, no!" her father replied with a tone of a scolding. "Can't you see? There's no way it can be him." His next words were certainly not what Jinju had expected but he felt that the Hon ice mage was not lying, "Jinju Wan and all of his party members died last month."