Into the Abyss

Chapter 111: Into the Abyss

The descent was not one of distance, but of perception. As Lirael and her companions stepped forward, the world around them seemed to shift, bending and unraveling at the edges. The Abyss pulsed, its dark energies threading through the air like silent whispers, urging them forward—or warning them away.

"Stay close," Lirael said, gripping her sword as they moved deeper into the unknown. "No one strays."

Eryndor cast a wary glance at the shifting shadows. "Are we sure this is wise? If the Abyss cannot be destroyed, then what exactly are we looking for?"

"Understanding," Myrin answered, his voice tinged with an eerie calm. "Knowledge is the key. If we are to break the cycle, we must find the truth hidden within the darkness."

The path beneath them twisted, no longer solid ground but something shifting, uncertain. Each step forward felt like stepping through memories—fragments of battles long past, voices of those lost to time. The Abyss was not just a force; it was a record of everything it had consumed.

Suddenly, Kaedrin halted. "Do you hear that?"

A sound—a low, keening wail—echoed through the void. It was neither alive nor dead, neither a warning nor a call. It was sorrow, pure and undiluted. The group exchanged uneasy glances.

"Keep moving," Lirael urged, though her own pulse quickened. "We don't stop. Not here."

The deeper they ventured, the more the Abyss revealed itself. It was not simply chaos; it had structure, a will. Tendrils of dark energy wove around unseen architecture, forming bridges and corridors of shadow. Symbols older than any recorded history pulsed faintly upon them, written in an unknown script.

Myrin reached out, fingers hovering over one of the glowing glyphs. "This is... ancient. Beyond anything we've ever known."

"Then we must learn to read it," Elenara murmured. "Perhaps the answers we seek are carved into the Abyss itself."

As they moved forward, the oppressive presence around them grew heavier. The Abyss was watching them. Not with malice, but with interest. As if it recognized them.

Then, the ground trembled. A voice—not the Herald's, but something older, deeper—rippled through the air.

"Seekers of truth... you stand at the precipice. Will you step forward and claim the knowledge you desire, or will you turn back, as those before you have?"

The air thickened, pressing against their very souls. The choice had come sooner than they had anticipated. Step forward into the heart of the Abyss, or retreat and risk losing what they had come to find.

Lirael's grip tightened on her blade. "We move forward."

Eryndor nodded, though wariness shadowed his face. "Together."

As they took the first step deeper into the void, the Abyss stirred. The knowledge they sought was within reach—but so too were the horrors that came with it.