Run…

Adam's mind was eerily quiet. The usual voice that tormented him, his voice that questioned every decision, had fallen silent. Only one thought prevailed, cutting through the chaos the same way he sliced through everyone else's flesh and bones.

Run, please, just run.

He decapitated another person, and then stopped. He did this every time; he stopped a second after each person he killed. Eyes scanning to see if the Blue creeps would run. But alas, no.

The head of the last man he decapitated still rolled down across the sand, the rest of his body gently being pushed away by Adam so that he wouldn't accidentally trip on it. He then cut down another who approached him, and once again waited for the others to flee in terror.

But instead, they roared louder.

"He's just one man!"

"Kill the bastard!"

"Avenge Leni!"

They surged forward like a tide filled with desperation. Adam sighed as he raised the Shion again.

The creeps kept attacking him, but their weapons either got blocked by the superior reach of his weapon or couldn't pierce through his tactical armor at all. A rusted machete scraped across his chest plate, leaving only scratches. A spear aimed at his neck caught the reinforced collar, and Adam casually caught it before thrusting it through the eye of the man behind him.

Adam parried another sword strike, almost throwing the attacker away into the air. Adam could have easily finished him. Instead, he hesitated.

Run. Please.

But the man didn't run. He screamed and lunged again.

Adam gritted his teeth and decapitated the man. He paused again, scanning everyone's terrified faces.

If you're scared, then run. Please, just run.

They didn't.

Soon, Adam found himself overwhelmed. Bodies pressed in from all sides, weapons and empty fists flashing in the desert sun. He gritted his teeth further and slashed recklessly—the Shion cutting through three necks at once in a single sweep, making sure to kill everyone painlessly.

Blood sprayed across the sand in perfect arcs. The heads rolled away from their bodies, expressions frozen in shock rather than agony. At least… it was quick.

He, however, widened his eyes. His momentum carried the blade forward, toward a small figure cowering behind the others. A child, maybe ten years old, holding his arms in fear.

Adam removed his left hand from the Shion's grip and used it to catch his own weapon before it hit the child.

"Why…" Adam whispered, staring at the child. And as soon as the child returned his gaze, Adam punched him right in the gut, instantly knocking the boy out.

Adam caught him before he hit the sand and then threw him away toward a group of people rushing at him. The people caught the child instinctively. And of course, they didn't notice Adam rushing at them—moving to their side, and then thrusting the Shion through them, skewering three bodies together like meat on a spit.

The blade punched through the first man's chest, and then the second, and emerged from the third's back. He then rotated the handle, killing them almost instantly with their eyes wide in shock.

Adam gently lowered the sword, lowering the people he just skewered on the sand along with the unconscious child. He swiftly pulled out his sword, blood sliding off the metal, and then immediately pointed it at the one rushing at him.

The man stopped in his tracks. When he looked Adam in the eyes, those hollow, sorrowful… and incredibly empty eyes, something inside him… broke. He turned tail and ran.

But alas, Adam caught him by the neck. His armored fingers closed around the man's throat… and then lifted him up high.

When the others saw that, they soon panicked. And finally, they realized who—no. What they were truly facing.

The only reason they were fighting this hard so early in the Game was because Adam was just a creep—no matter how strong he was, they could defeat him with their numbers.

Or… so they thought.

The sight of their comrade dangling helplessly in Adam's grip, the child lying unconscious among the corpses, the sheer amount of blood soaking into the sand—it finally broke through them.

"He's a monster!"

"Run! Just run!"

"We can't win!"

Finally, the creeps began running. A few of them ran back toward the direction of their crystal—but some started rushing for the other lanes, abandoning their posts entirely.

Adam stared at those who ran for other lanes, then looked up at the clock above. No, glared at it.

The seconds ticked by. 1… 2… 3…

He was quiet, but his mind was repeatedly screaming the same words over and over.

Don't burn them. Don't burn them. Don't burn them.

When several seconds had passed and no screams echoed across the desert, no smell of burning flesh filled the air, he sighed in relief. The Game wasn't punishing deserters. Or perhaps, the Administrators didn't consider them deserters at all.

He looked at the man he was grabbing… and then gently threw him next to the unconscious child.

"What…"

The man was confused at first, but didn't dare to speak as he looked up at Adam.

"The child's alive. Take him and run for the other lanes."

What are you doing, Adam? I thought you had already resolved yourself in taking in all the guilt? All the blame? Letting them run away would only pass the responsibility to someone else. What are you doing?!

You. It is only you who deserves to suffer. Kill them. Kill the child. What is one more life to the sins you already have?

Adam stared at the man and back at the unconscious child.

You're right, Adam. You're right. If not you, then someone else would be forced to kill this little helpless child. Imagine this child is you—no, you don't even need to imagine. All those years trapped inside the White Room…

…didn't you wish for it all to end? Kill the child now. Like you did with Samantha. Kill the child painlessly.

Kill the child, Adam.

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