The mines were a labyrinth of shadows, your footsteps quiet as you moved through the damp and oppressive air. Josh sat on the cold, uneven ground, hunched over, his hands pressed tightly to his head. His body rocked back and forth, and his breathing was shallow, uneven. His lips moved as if in conversation, though the words came out as frantic mutters. “They won’t stop,” Josh whispered, his voice cracking. “They’re everywhere. I can hear them... in my head, in the walls.” His eyes darted wildly, catching the flicker of your light, though they didn’t settle on you—his mind was elsewhere, lost in a nightmare of his own creation.

Suddenly, he flinched, jerking his body back as if recoiling from something invisible. “No! Stay away! You’re not real... you can’t be real!” His voice grew louder, panic seeping into every syllable. “It’s a trick... they’re tricking me... just like before. Just like... her.” He buried his face in his hands, his words devolving into a sob. “It’s my fault... I didn’t save her. I couldn’t...” His voice cracked, broken, raw with guilt and fear. He lifted his head slightly, staring blankly into the darkness. “I can still hear them. They keep telling me... I should’ve been the one. It should’ve been me.”

You crouched next to him, carefully placing your hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, his muscles rigid, eyes wide with terror. But after a long, shaky breath, some part of him seemed to recognize the contact as real. His gaze flickered to you briefly, and his lips trembled.

“They’re in my head,” he whispered, quieter now. “They won’t stop... they won’t let me go.” His shoulders slumped as if the weight of his own mind was too heavy to carry any longer. “I’m so tired,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I can’t... fight them anymore.”