Sleeping in Hell

"Cursed?" The word echoed in Ethan's mind as he stared out into the endless desert. It had been easy to think that before, seeing the oppressively starry sky and the black sand that seemed to drain the heat of life itself. But hearing it spoken aloud felt like a final verdict. "My God," he thought, clasping his hands in a childlike reflex, "if You're listening, please let this all just be a dream."

As Ethan sank into his prayer, a sharp sound tore through the air. He opened his eyes just in time to see Kiyoshi's sword slide back into its sheath in one fluid motion. The samurai had cut something in half—something small and insignificant that fell to the sand with a soft thud.

Kaerith was the first to move. The insectoid with multiple eyes and translucent wings walked with quick, graceful steps, carefully picking up the small body in her hands. "Poor thing," she said, her antennae vibrating as she examined the insect. "These feed on blood… and they usually travel in swarms. They must have been drawn by the worm's corpse."

All eyes turned to the massive carcass, still emanating a strange and hateful heat. Near one of the gaping wounds, one of the Sorcerer's books continued devouring chunks of flesh with grotesque enthusiasm.

"Ah," the Sorcerer said, tilting his head as if admiring the work of a sculptor. His bizarre mask, carved from black wood into angular shapes with glowing, small eyes, intensified the aura of mystery around him. "I think it'll take some time to get rid of this."

Ethan interrupted his prayer for the second time, looking around for some semblance of sanity among the grim faces. He took a deep breath. "Uh… shouldn't we get out of here as soon as possible? I mean, find somewhere safe?" He pointed in a random direction, trying to seem useful. "Why not head that way?"

The Sorcerer stared at him in silence for a moment. Then, with an exaggerated flourish, he pulled a teapot out of nowhere, poured himself an invisible cup of tea, took a sip, and spat it out dramatically. "Boy," he said, laughing, "what an interesting choice! You pointed right where our insectoid 'friends' are coming from."

Ethan's face flushed with embarrassment. And then he heard it. At first, it was just a distant whisper, like the sound of rain far away. But it quickly grew into a deafening hum. The cloud of insects on the horizon looked like a living wall, growing larger and closer with every passing second.

Lian Xuan sighed, adjusting his robes with a slow, deliberate motion. "Is it too much to ask for a moment of peace?" He raised his hand, and Ethan noticed a blue glow radiating from the old cultivator's palm.

"Stay behind me," Seryne said calmly, pulling Ethan closer. He obeyed without question, his eyes fixed on what was about to unfold.

The glow in Lian Xuan's hands intensified. With a fluid movement, he traced an arc in the air, and blue flames leaped from his palm like a living cascade. They grew rapidly, forming a serpentine dragon of fire that tore through the sky toward the swarm.

The flaming dragon surged forward with ferocity, diving into the mass of creatures like a divine storm. The heat was overwhelming, and the sound of wings burning was like a chorus of lamentations. The blue light reflected in the sky, turning the desert into a spectacle of destruction and beauty.

When the last insect was consumed by the flames, the dragon dissipated into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing ashes that fell slowly, like silver snow. Lian Xuan lowered his hand, his expression serene. "Problem solved," he said. "We can head in the direction the boy suggested."

Ethan glanced at Kaerith, who was still holding the small dead insect. "Not to sound rude," he began, carefully choosing his words, "but… how do you see all of this?"

Kaerith's voice was gentle and melancholic. "I think this is the best we can do for these creatures. The corruption that afflicts them… leaves no other choice."

While Ethan was still processing Kaerith's response, a voice full of arrogance echoed through the air. The Sorcerer's book, which had been devouring the worm's carcass with grotesque enthusiasm, broke the silence with a pompous tone.

"Corruption," it began, its pages opening and closing theatrically, "has no cure. Only death can free the bodies it consumes. However," it paused dramatically, "even after death, something remains. A pure, untainted core, hidden within the chaos."

The Sorcerer tilted his head slightly, his ornate mask gleaming in the light of the still-dancing flames. With his hands clasped together, he looked almost contemplative. "And where is this worm's core, you gluttonous pile of pages?" he asked, his voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

The book leapt into the air with a dry snap of its pages. If an object could smirk, Ethan was certain it was doing so provocatively. "Where do you think, genius? I ate it, of course!" the book declared, followed by a high-pitched, mocking laugh.

The Sorcerer immediately raised his hands in a theatrical gesture. "Books! Capture him! And lock him in the cauldron this instant!" he commanded, pointing dramatically at the black cauldron that always rested heavily by his side.

The other books orbiting the Sorcerer, murmuring unintelligible words, reacted to the order like predators chasing prey. They flew forward in a coordinated assault, surrounding the gluttonous book, which now darted through the air in zigzags, trying to escape.

"You'll never catch me!" the fleeing book shouted, its pages flapping like wings to gain more speed. It spiraled through the air, deftly evading its pursuers, while the other books chased it fiercely.

"Don't let it escape! Show some discipline, you lazy fools!" the Sorcerer exclaimed, gesticulating wildly as he watched the scene unfold.

Ethan watched it all, his mind teetering between humor and disbelief. "This is… this is absolutely insane," he thought, rubbing his temples. "It's like I'm trapped in someone's fever dream after they've read too many books."

After a series of aerial maneuvers worthy of a performance, the books finally cornered the fugitive and shoved it into the cauldron. One last mocking laugh echoed before the sound of a lid slamming shut sealed the capture.

"That should teach a lesson about moderation," the Sorcerer declared with mock seriousness, crossing his arms and tilting slightly toward the cauldron.

As the group prepared to move, the Sorcerer summoned a flying carpet, its bizarrely animated surface shifting like living velvet.

"Hop on!" the carpet said in a gravelly, jovial voice. "I promise not to bite… well, maybe just a toe."

Ethan hesitated, as usual. Before he could protest, Seryne gently touched his shoulder. "It will be fine," she said in her calm, reassuring voice. "We need to move forward."

And so they ascended, the black desert stretching endlessly below, as golden lightning cut through the oppressive starry sky above. Ethan leaned back, exhaustion finally taking hold. As he drifted to sleep, he could still hear the murmurs of the Sorcerer's books and the hum of Zeta 4's thrusters. Somewhere deep in his mind, the weight of corruption lingered, haunting his dreams.