Renji's body jerked as the cold air whipped past him. It was disorienting, like his senses couldn't keep up with the speed. The world was dark—so dark he couldn't even tell if his eyes were open. There was only the rush of air, the sound of it growing louder with every second. He couldn't feel the ground, couldn't see anything around him.
He was falling.
There was no way to tell how long it had been. A few seconds? A minute? Time seemed to stretch and blur. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the fall. His limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, his body fighting against the free-fall. He instinctively reached out, but his hands grabbed nothing—just empty air.
The wind felt like it was tearing at his skin, the chill biting through his clothes, but he couldn't tell if it was getting colder or if his own body was just reacting to the panic. His heart was thumping faster, but the fear didn't hit him all at once. It came in waves, rising up and then fading a bit, then coming back stronger.
How did this happen?
He couldn't even remember exactly when things went wrong. One second, he was exploring the dungeon, trying to get a sense of the layout, figuring out the next step. The next second, he was losing his footing, slipping into the unknown. The fall itself hadn't been sudden, but the feeling of it—of losing control—was unsettling.
The longer he fell, the more disoriented he became. Was there a bottom? Or was he falling forever? His mind couldn't focus long enough to make sense of it.
He'd been a part of a team, hadn't he? Hadn't he always been working with others? But now, in the silence, the isolation felt real. He couldn't hear anyone. He couldn't feel the ground below. Nothing.
What's happening to me?
Renji clenched his fists, trying to push away the unease creeping up his chest. There wasn't much he could do right now, though. Falling. That's all he was doing—just falling. The ground could be miles away for all he knew, and it didn't matter. There was no sense in trying to stop it.
At first, his mind had been racing, looking for an explanation, but it didn't take long for his thoughts to lose coherence. The adrenaline that had pushed him into action earlier now seemed distant, replaced with a kind of numbness. The wind felt like a constant presence, but it wasn't cutting through him anymore. It was just there.
Should I even try to fight this?
His chest tightened slightly at the thought, but the question wasn't one he could answer. Was there anything to fight for here? His life had always been a series of moves and steps, trying to keep up with others, trying to fit into a world that never really seemed to make sense. Now, as he fell into the dark, that world felt even further away.
But it wasn't about that right now. It wasn't about figuring out what had happened or why he was here. He was just... falling. That was the only reality, the only thing left in his world. His breath came slower, less panicked, but the stillness inside him wasn't a relief. It was just empty.
The fall didn't stop. His body adjusted to the sensation, the motion of it, but it didn't make it any easier. He had no idea when it would end, if it ever would.
Renji breathed in deeply, his chest tightening a little at the realization. He wasn't sure if he was growing used to it, or if he was just too tired to feel anything else. The fall was endless, just like everything else.
And yet... he didn't feel like he was entirely alone.
The thought wasn't clear, more like a faint flicker in the back of his mind. There was no reason for it. There was no sound, no change in the air, no sign of anything different. But it was there, as real as the cold wind against his skin.
For a moment, he tried to focus on it, but the sensation faded before he could grasp it fully. Maybe it was just his mind starting to play tricks on him, trying to make sense of the dark.
He closed his eyes, letting the darkness surround him once again. He didn't know how much longer this would last, but he wasn't sure he had the energy to think about it anymore.
He was falling. That was all he knew for sure. And maybe that was all there was to know.