Krag, The Spider

A hundred men in gray robes marched along the rain-slicked cobblestones, the dull sheen of their uniforms blending with the pallor of the skies overhead. Their faces were masks of grief and exhaustion, shoulders bowed beneath the relentless downpour. In the center of the procession, borne on heavy wooden platforms, lay the caskets—each solemn tribute to the latest casualties of a brutal conflict. Three of them stood out in front, larger than the others, followed by dozens more forming a line of silent final farewells.

No chatter broke the eerie quiet. Now and then, someone let out a ragged breath or murmured a short prayer. But mostly, there was silence—broken only by the rhythmic thud of boots hitting soaked stone and the steady drip of rain streaming off the brims of their hoods. Clouds churned overhead, a storm-hued ceiling pressing down on the mourners as if the sky itself mourned alongside them.

"Three Guardians, just like that," one man muttered under his breath, raindrops mingling with the tears on his cheeks. Another simply shook his head, jaw tight, as though words could no longer do justice to the scale of the tragedy.

Near the front of the formation stood Jin, his robe torn at the hem, bearing the insignia of Division Four. Deep scars etched across his face suggested countless battles survived—yet now, a deeper wound seethed within. His gaze never strayed from the caskets, and in that unwavering stare, sorrow mingled with a rising fury.

The atmosphere grew heavier around him, and those closest felt it like an unseen hand tightening on their chests. A female Guardian, walking just behind Jin, struggled to maintain her composure. The very air seemed to pulse with an undercurrent of power—Jin's Nafs leaking out as he wrestled with his rage. Droplets of water drummed on their robes, but to the ranks of Division Four, it felt almost like hail: a tangible manifestation of Jin's grief and anger.

"We lost so many," the Guardian whispered, her voice quivering. She cast a worried glance at Jin, who was silent except for his labored breathing.

Jin's nostrils flared, gaze locked onto the caskets. The rain around him intensified, beating the cobblestones louder and harder, as if drawn by the storm inside his heart.

"Krag…" Jin growled under his breath, barely audible over the pouring rain. His attendant tensed at the raw menace in his tone. She glimpsed the faint trembling of his hands—an outward sign of the fury roiling within him.

A sudden spark of energy rippled through the air, and the Guardian staggered back, her chest constricting. The world around them seemed to dim as Jin's power crescendoed.

"I will murder you," he hissed, voice rumbling with a promise of violence. Thunder boomed overhead, echoing his vow. The rainfall twisted in the wind, lashing sideways as if responding to his seething hatred. To Division Four, it felt like every drop of water carried a fraction of Jin's wrath.

Then, in one smooth, impossible motion, Jin vanished—leaving only displaced rain swirling in his wake. The Guardian fell to her knees, clutching her chest and gasping for air, now freed from the suffocating aura. Around her, the others of Division Four paused, uncertain, the grim parade forced to a halt by their leader's sudden departure.

In the ensuing hush, only the steady rain remained—the same relentless downpour that had borne witness to both heartbreak and unbridled rage. The caskets lay still, silent tributes to the fallen, while Jin's fury echoed like a half-forgotten roar across the storm-darkened street.

Far from the turmoil that ravaged Division Four, Kai sat cross-legged on the grass just outside the estate. He had only recently helped Leon slip into a fitful sleep, ensuring his brother's Nafs stayed contained for another night. Now, in the quiet of the late hour, Kai let his gaze drift across the darkened sky, brow creased in mild confusion.

It's going to rain so suddenly?

A handful of drops splattered against his skin, cool and sharp in the still air. Within moments, that small drizzle turned into a pelting shower, like an invisible dam had burst overhead.

What's this? he wondered, lifting a hand to catch the droplets. Each bead of water felt heavier than normal, somehow charged. The rain… it's so strong?

Rising to his feet, he made his way to the nearby stall, where Muz, the imposing mountain horse, slumbered. Sensing Kai's approach, the animal stirred, its ears twitching at the intensifying downpour.

"Muz," Kai said in a low voice, keeping calm despite the tingling sense of unease creeping up his spine, "do you feel it too? Something's… off."

The horse stood, shaking its mane, and snorted at the downpour. Its eyes flicked skyward, as though wary of the rain's odd weight. With a disgruntled neigh, Muz edged away from the open doorway, hooves scraping on the stall's floor.

Kai frowned; mountain horses, known for their resilience, rarely showed any dislike for the elements. Yet here was Muz, backing away from the rain like it carried a hidden threat.

"What's going on?" Kai murmured, reaching a hand out to pat Muz's neck. Another torrential wave of droplets rattled the roof overhead, and the horse jerked, stamping a hoof against the ground.

A low rumble, almost reminiscent of distant thunder, rolled through the sky. Kai's thoughts wandered: Could this be an omen? A surge of Nafs from somewhere far away?

He inhaled deeply, senses attuned to any faint disturbances in the air—but all he tasted was the electric tang of the rain. Shaking his head, he gently led Muz deeper into the stall, letting the animal stay clear of the downpour.

Why does it feel like something out there just erupted?

Kai stood still, listening to the roar of the rain, vaguely aware that the strange storm might be a symptom of a greater chaos yet to unfold. He pressed a palm over the bandaged arm that never truly healed, a gnawing worry flickering in his chest.

In the distance, lightning flickered across the skyline, and Kai's eyes narrowed. Whatever this is… I need to be ready.

Away from Kai, stood a barren land, its dull horizon swallowed by brooding storm clouds. Everything appeared lifeless and ominous.

In that desolate plain, a massive figure trembled—gnawing, chewing, devouring. Its silhouette, half-hidden by shadows, was a grotesque creature known as Krag.

A spider at first glance—but no. This monstrosity was far more disturbing. Its round, bloated body was coated in coarse black fur, yet five of its nine legs were made of pale, loose human-like skin, each ending in a face with closed eyes. The top four legs resembled the rest of its hairy hide.

Its head, if one could call it that, bore a terrifying parody of a woman's face—human skin, closed eyes, a twisted smile. The dissonance between the humanoid visage and the bloated spider-like body evoked revulsion more than fear. Its mouth chomped methodically, swallowing arms and legs it had collected like one might snack on scraps.

A calm yet resonant voice carried across the dead air:

"There you are, you monster."

The sky answered that voice with a sudden onslaught of rain—heavy drops that lashed the ground. Krag slowly turned, its eyes still closed, continuing to munch on what remained of its latest victims. Limbs were scattered about in gruesome piles. Robes marked with the number four littered the barren soil.

Jin stood a short distance away, his Division Four robe soaked, the tattered edges clinging to his battle-scarred body. His gaze grew colder at the sight of the lifeless remains.

"Krag, you filth," he seethed, voice trembling with rancor. "You've slaughtered so many of my people."

Krag's distorted face angled toward Jin, a fragment of leg dangling from its mouth. Its lips peeled back into a nightmarish grin, as if acknowledging Jin's fury. The sight blanked Jin's mind in a single, sickening wave of rage.

At once, the deluge above seemed to freeze midair, droplets suspended in a moment of impossibility. Jin lifted a trembling hand and, with grim resolve, grasped his own tongue—yanking it out in a single violent motion. Blood spattered across the ground as he dropped the severed flesh at his feet.

Though his limbs shook, Jin never looked away from Krag. Through his bloody mouth came a deafening voice that shattered the silence:

Awaken, Zulmara!

Krag's body lurched. Its closed eyes fluttered with a shudder, as though some primal terror stirred within it. Where Jin's tongue had landed, a hissing sound erupted, pulsating across the frozen rain. Droplets shot upward, recoiling from the force of his power.

Jin collapsed to his knees, rivulets of blood flowing from his mouth, never letting Krag escape his murderous gaze. The hissing intensified, and Krag began skittering forward on its nine legs. Slowly at first, then faster, the Tenebraith charged.

"Haha." Jin's voice broke into a bitter laugh as something slithered out of the blood pooled beside him—a snake, small at first glance, but with an ominous aura. It slid over to the severed tongue and swallowed it whole, its unblinking eyes locking onto Jin soon after.

Without hesitation, it latched its fangs onto Jin's neck, burying them deep.

"KRAAAAA!" Krag screeched, lunging closer, but the second the snake's bite took hold, a shockwave burst outward with Jin at its center. The monstrous spider flew backward, smashing into the ground in a sprawl of twisted limbs.

"Hahaha!" Jin's laughter rang out through the swirling dust. As it cleared, he emerged with the snake coiled around him, its fangs now unnaturally large—bigger than Jin himself. Blood no longer poured from his mouth; his tongue seemed restored, though fresh crimson streamed from the corners of his lips.

With a savage yank, Jin tore one of the snake's fangs free, drawing a furious hiss from the creature.

Hiss! Zulmara! he shrieked, vibrating the air like a thunderclap.

"KRAAAAA!" Krag howled, its humanlike eyes weeping black fluid under the shock of the snake's power. The anguished cry hammered at the reanimated storm clouds above.

"Die, bitch." Jin's voice came low and steady, the fang clutched like a spear in his fist. With the snake slithering close behind, he broke into a run toward the toppled Tenebraith.

His eyes shone with a malevolent green light. The heavy rain returned in full force—but this time, each drop slashed like a blade, carving through the heaps of dismembered limbs and battering Krag's bulbous form.

A flicker of lightning illuminated the battlefield for an instant: Jin with the fang in hand, the snake coiled around him, and the monstrous spider reeling under the razor-sharp deluge. The stage was set for a clash of unbridled savagery—one that would further scar an already ruined land.

"So that's Zulmara?" muttered one of them, a Sentinel wearing a robe with the numeral three emblazoned on the back. His eyes glinted with a mix of disgust and awe. "What a vile Latifa," he added, voice low.

"It's also a formidable one," replied the leader of the group—the Supreme. Rain pelted their floating forms, but the Supreme seemed unbothered, his attention fixed on the conflict playing out beneath the swirling clouds.

The Third Sentinel, Geor, inhaled sharply. "Supreme, do you think Jin can kill it?"

"Yes." The Supreme inclined his head, his tone measured. "Zulmara is too powerful for an ordinary Tenebraith to withstand."

Geor's gaze returned to the chaotic fray in the distance. "But that Tenebraith isn't ordinary. It's abnormally strong."Concern etched lines across his face.

"Jin will win, Geor," the Supreme said, narrowing his eyes on the distant flashes of power. "Even if he has to die trying."

The group fell silent, the roar of distant thunder underscoring their unspoken anxiety. Each was acutely aware that battles of such magnitude often ended in tragedy—even for the strongest. Yet they remained, suspended in midair, grimly watching the ongoing struggle.

Kai felt an unsettling prickling across his skin. After soothing Muz, he returned inside, rainwater dripping from his hair and clothes. The sudden downpour continued hammering the estate's rooftops, its eerie force still sending a warning tingle through his senses.

Once indoors, he toweled himself off, then moved into a small side room to change. Every step left small puddles on the hardwood floor, faint echoes of the storm outside.

"Ugh." He winced slightly as he unwrapped the bandages from his injured right arm. The black-tinged flesh remained as stubborn as ever, refusing to heal—but something else caught his eye.

The dark veins along the wound moved, pulsing beneath his skin in a subtle, wriggling motion.

"What the—?" he murmured, alarm roiling in his chest. Until now, the wound had been static, just a persistent ache. But seeing it writhing on its own was wholly new.

Gritting his teeth, Kai summoned a thick swirl of his purple Nafs into his left palm, pressing it against the bandaged area. A sharp jolt of pain sliced through him, forcing a ragged growl from his throat.

"Why is this suddenly reacting?" he hissed under his breath. Could the storm be triggering this? Or something else…?

His mind raced, and he decided a deeper look was needed. Keeping his chest bared, he eased to the floor and drew a long breath. Closing his eyes, he guided his Nafs inward, slipping into the depths of his psyche.

Almost at once, the surrounding reality shifted—replaced by a midnight-blue sky and swirling purple clouds. There was no ground, no horizon. Only boundless space in every direction, leaving him suspended as though gravity held no sway.

"My Sahalim…" he whispered, acknowledging the realm within him. The gloom felt familiar, a canvas painted in the somber hues of his inner world.

But something was off. Far away, hovering just beyond reach, was a black star—a dark radiance that stood out against the deep violet skies.

Frowning, Kai willed a cushiony purple cloud to form beneath his feet. It carried him smoothly forward, chasing the distant star. Yet no matter how quickly he flew, the glimmering black point stayed exactly as far away as before, as if he was running on a cosmic treadmill.

Suddenly, a white flash flickered at the corner of his vision—brief but blindingly bright. Kai's heart jerked in alarm, and a shock of pain detonated in his chest.

"Ugh!" Kai's eyes snapped open, the Sahalim vanishing in an instant. He was back in the manor, crouched on the wooden floor and soaked in cold sweat. Each breath came ragged, his palms pressed over his heart.

What was that white flash?

His teeth clenched against the lingering agony in his chest. Though he hadn't reached the black star, and the flash had appeared for only a moment, he felt certain neither was tied to the Zhull. Whatever it was, it carried a different sort of menace—one that made his insides twist.

"Something dangerous," he muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow. Outside, the storm raged on, wind rattling the shutters. Within, Kai stared at the writhing wound on his arm and the lingering pain in his chest, weighed down by a growing sense of urgency.

I have to figure this out—before it's too late.