Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss

It had been three days.

Three long, crawling days, with seventeen courtyards conquered. And the worst part? Each of the courtyards had been designed to be harder to beat than the previous one. Either that or the Deep was ramping up the difficulty by itself.

Not to mention that the courtyards were not the only things they had to face. The red snakes had also given them a lot of trouble, but fortunately, they'd disappeared on the second day.

Every battle they had, every trap they faced, and every puzzle they solved had chipped away slowly at their strength and morale.

At this point, they were like zombies. Exhausted, sore, and held together by sheer fucking will.

Over the last three days, sleep had been rare, stolen in shifts and scraps. They couldn't afford rest. Not when the ceiling above continued grinding slowly down to them. It was like a hammer of judgement, descending with an inevitable weight they couldn't escape.

Right now, the ceiling was now at the height of the ceiling of a normal building. A few feet above their head. Not yet close enough to actually be a great threat, but it was a constant reminder that time was running out. That their world was literally closing in on them.

Thankfully, they didn't need to keep thinking about their impending doom, because they'd just stumbled into a new courtyard, and this one was different.

This courtyard was dry.

Unlike the others, the water remained pooled at the edges and refused to cross the threshold. It clung to the entrance like it had hit an invisible wall.

Hesitantly, they all stepped onto the dusty stone floor, dripping water on it. Even with the normality of it all, they were alert. Because this courtyard was different from everything they'd faced.

The door groaned shut behind them, but they paid it no mind because in front of them was a sight none of them had expected. Not even Ren.

The room was built like a normal bedroom, and that made it more eerie. With the ceiling at normal height, it was a familiar sight. A familiar sight in an unfamiliar place.

But what made it even more different was the fact that it was a child's bedroom. A child of nobility from the looks of the room.

Toys were scattered across the floor with the indifference of one who had too many to count. A wooden horse, beautiful marbles to roll around, a broken doll and more.

A small bed sat in the corner, the sheets stiff with dried blood. The walls were dirty, and at the far end was a mirror on a wooden table.

A chair sat before the table, and seated on that chair was a young boy.

He looked no older than ten. He had a pale complexion and sat utterly still. Unnaturally still.

A rusted knife stuck out from his chest. Blood had long dried, running down his shirt and pooling beneath his feet.

His small hand clutched something. A key, fingers stiff and curled around it.

Zuzu stared at it with wide eyes, her breath hitched.

"What... is this?" She whispered.

"A child's room?" Thorn said, peering around. "Or something pretending to be one."

Lilith slowly turned her gaze toward the blood covered bed, the toys. "There's something deeply wrong here."

Ren was already walking the perimeter. "It's because this is the product of the Deep pretending to be human. Accurate, but lacking substance."

"Did the child kill himself? Did something kill him? Where did the blood on the bed come from? The story isn't clear, because the Deep constructed something it thinks will scare us. It's scary but not in the way it intended."

His eyes darted to the only other door in the room, opposite the one they entered from. It was actually a normal door. Simple, old, and shut tight with a single keyhole.

"That's our way forward." Ren said. "And the key's in the kid's hand."

"It can't be that simple." Elias muttered. "This is the Deep. There has to be a monster."

"Maybe this is the monster." Thorn said. "When you take the key, the child will become an innocent child and you have to kill him to pass. A psychological trap."

"Whatever it is," Ren said, stepping forward, "we have to get the key."

Lilith stepped forward and grabbed his arm. "Be careful."

"I will." Ren gave her a nod. Then he drew a slow breath, and walked toward the child.

Each step seemed to echo in the room as the rest of the group watched him.

The closer he got, the heavier the air became. Like walking through mud. The blood on the floor shimmered faintly and Ren watched it warily.

The mirror reflected him, growing clearer as he neared it.

Finally, he stood beside the boy.

He reached out slowly, prying the cold, small fingers away from the key.

The moment the metal touched Ren's hand, he looked up.

His eyes met the reflection in the mirror.

And everything vanished.

[][][][][]

Ren gasped awake.

He was lying on soft sheets. The air smelled faintly of herbs and candle wax. A very familiar smell.

Light poured into the room through the single window.

The ceiling above him was made of wooden beams. Very familiar wooden beams.

He sat up abruptly.

This was his room.

Not the ones he'd stayed in during his travels.

Not the Deep.

His childhood bedroom in Ross Castle.

He looked down at his hands.

Small.

His legs, swinging over the edge of the bed. He stumbled to the table, gazing into the basin on it to see his reflection in the water.

As he caught sight of it, he gasped.

Slightly chubby cheeks, unruly brown hair, and wide green eyes.

He was ten again. And this was the day he first arrived in this world.

"No. No, no, no." Ren whispered, clutching his hair. A deep pit began forming in his stomach.

How was he here? Wasn't he just in the Deep? Had he died and been sent back? Was this an illusion?

"Wait a minute." Something occurred to him.

If this was when he just arrived in this world, does that mean…

He bolted for the door, flinging it open and nearly knocking over Margaret, his old nanny.

"Young Master Ren! Slow down! No running in the halls!" She scolded, flustered.

But Ren didn't stop.

He raced down the familiar corridors, heart pounding. If this was real, if this was a full illusion, even if he was trapped in some kind of memory loop, then...

He reached the dining hall.

The door was open.

Inside, at the head of the long table, was a man with broad shoulders, silver-streaked hair, and an aura of authority. He held a steaming cup of tea and glanced over a parchment with narrowed eyes.

Abram Ross.

His father.

Alive.

"Father." Ren whispered, frozen in the doorway.