On the Edge of the Abyss

Seryne and Kaerith were near the top of the colossal land formation, raised by the force of an impact that had shattered the very sky. The air trembled with an ancient, impure energy, and every step was a battle against exhaustion and fate.

Seryne felt her body weaken. Ever since they had landed, she had been bending the fabric of destiny around them, concealing them from the perception of the creature that hovered over this dead world. But her limit had been reached. The effort to obscure their future from that ravenous presence had drained almost everything she had.

Her whisper was dry and inevitable:

— It's over.

The moment she stopped manipulating the threads of fate, the bird saw them. Even at a distance, even with the veil of space distorted, the creature's perception was inescapable. They had been marked.

But the true terror did not come from the sky—it stood before them.

At the bottom of the immense crater, the Black Sun burned with an impossible light: a radiance that cast shadows instead of illumination, a living contradiction, a star that seemed to consume reality itself. It was not free. Black chains, forged from the same liquid that dripped from the sky without ever reaching the ground, wrapped around its core. Star dust—shimmering and cold—adorned the chains, as if the entire cosmos had united to imprison that condemned sun.

Kaerith felt her blood freeze. Her wings twitched in a spasm of pure instinct.

— Is this… what you want to free? — Her voice was hoarse, caught between pleading and disbelief. — That corrupted sun? I don't think this is a good idea.

Seryne, her blindfold intact, turned her head toward her companion. The world might believe she was blind, but here, before this cosmic impossibility, she saw more than anyone.

— The time is near, — her voice was calm, yet it carried the weight of a thousand interwoven futures. — If we want to have any future in this rotting world, we need the chaos that this sun's freedom will bring.

Kaerith stepped back, her claws digging into the pulsating ground. The symbiote in her mind whispered, its voice like viscous oil dripping through her thoughts:

— Didn't I tell you, Kaerith? This lunatic will lead you to ruin. Trust me. I can protect you.

The voice grew sweeter, more insidious:

— Let me take control. I'll end this blind human myself. You won't have to carry this burden.

Seryne, as if hearing the symbiote's whispers, spoke with a serene coldness:

— This is my choice, Kaerith. You don't have to bear this burden. You don't have to follow me. But… — her voice resonated with something ancient, a force that defied time — you must. Because here, in this corrupted world, there is no path without condemnation. We only have the right to choose which doom we face. And I see… something beyond, at the end of this road. Perhaps it is death. But we have already learned that death is preferable to corruption.

Kaerith gritted her teeth, her soul in turmoil, the symbiote pulsing with wild desire.

— I understand you… — her voice was a trembling thread of emotion — but don't misunderstand me. I don't think freeing this thing is a good idea. If even this corrupted world has united to imprison it… why release it?

The symbiote sensed her hesitation—and acted.

It took only a nudge. A fragment of intent, and Kaerith's emotions turned into an attack.

She lunged at Seryne. Her claw sliced through the air, aimed at the blind woman's back. In the last instant, Kaerith tried to restrain herself—but it was too late.

Her claw struck Seryne—and it was like hitting an invisible wall. The impact reverberated up Kaerith's arm, the pain burning like living fire. Seryne didn't even move. She simply turned her face toward her, as serene as an oracle before an inevitable prophecy:

— We don't have time for this.

Then… the light around them died.

He had arrived.

The shadow was immense. And alive.

The creature emerged from the sky like a sentence passed down by the abyss itself. Its body was a cathedral of nightmares: vast wings like veils of dried flesh, stitched together with diseased feathers and torn membranes, as if they had been mended after countless battles. Each beat of its wings seemed to deform the air, creating gusts that carried an impossible scent—ancient dust, iron, and fear.

Its head was a grotesque mask of flesh and bone, a face of agony sculpted by horror itself. Multiple hollow eyes, burning with a crimson glow, locked onto the two small figures before it. Serrated jaws trembled beneath its flayed skin, and from them escaped not a scream, but a chorus of distorted voices, as if every soul it had ever devoured sang in eternal torment.

Its talons, long and deformed, scraped through the air like blades seeking flesh. And beneath its bloodstained feathers, faces and hands seemed to writhe, as if the creature carried fragments of its victims, fused into its own flesh.

The shadow became total. The world stopped breathing.

Kaerith felt the symbiote shudder inside her—and for the first time, she heard its voice… in fear.

— Kaerith… run.

But there was nowhere to run.

The Bird of Terror dove.

And the world collapsed.