Shades of Abyss

Liam fell.

The vortex swallowed him whole, a maelstrom of light and shadow tearing at his senses, the hum from his chest exploding into a roar that vibrated through his skull, the air warping around him. His body tumbled through the void, no up, no down, just a dizzying spiral of colors—blinding whites, deep blacks—stinging his eyes, his breath stolen by the rush. Shadowfang clung to his hand, its hum a lifeline, the blade's edge glinting as the mist lashed at his skin, cold and biting, tendrils coiling around his arms, pulling, resisting his fall.

The Hollow Mirrors followed, their distorted forms blurring into the chaos, their pale eyes glowing through the swirl, their laughter a warped echo of his own, the sound twisting into something sinister, echoing off unseen walls. His heart pounded, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming from the climb, the ache settling deep in his bones, his vest torn and soaked with sweat and mist.

[System Alert: Dimensional Transition Active]

[Stability Sync: Unknown]

[Warning: Entity Pursuit Detected]

A cold shiver ran down his spine, a sharp buzz cutting through the roar, his vision flickering with static.

He wasn't sure how long he fell—seconds? Minutes?—the vortex stretching time, the air growing thick, the hum syncing with his pulse, a rhythm inside him pulling him deeper. The mist thickened, pressing against his chest, the cold seeping into his joints, his hands trembling on Shadowfang, the blade's vibration steadying his grip. "Great, a free dive into hell," he muttered, a dark chuckle escaping, breaking the tension, his breath ragged.

Then—impact.

The ground hit him hard, not solid but yielding, like landing on a living thing, the surface rippling beneath him, a jolt shooting through his body, pain flaring in his ribs from the Hollow Mirror's strike. He rolled, gasping, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue, blood flecking his lips, his hands scraping the strange ground, cold and slick, the mist swirling around him, whispering half-formed words, the air crackling with static.

He pushed himself up, knees weak, his legs burning, the exhaustion weighing him down, his chest heaving as he scanned his surroundings. The vortex spat him out into a cavern of obsidian, its walls jagged and gleaming, etched with symbols that pulsed faintly, a soft blue-green glow casting eerie shadows. The air stilled, unnaturally quiet, pressing against his ears, the silence broken only by the faint drip of water from the unseen heights, pooling at his feet, the cold biting his skin.

But he wasn't alone.

The Hollow Mirrors emerged from the mist, their forms solidifying, a dozen pairs of pale eyes locking onto him, their movements synced with his breath, their distorted Shadowfangs gleaming. The ground trembled beneath their steps, the mist pulling back, revealing more of the cavern, the walls shifting slightly, the symbols flaring brighter, the air warping with their presence, a hum lingering from the vortex, pulling at his chest.

Liam tightened his grip on Shadowfang, the blade's hum rising, his knuckles white, his hands steady despite the tremble in his legs. "More of you bastards?" he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips, his voice rough, the exhaustion fueling his defiance. He shifted his stance, his muscles straining, his breath uneven, the cold seeping deeper, his vest torn and damp against his skin.

The first Hollow Mirror lunged, its blade a blur, the clash ringing out, steel on steel, the impact jarring his arms, a shockwave rippling through the cavern, the mist recoiling. Liam parried, twisting, his boots slipping on the slick ground, the pain in his ribs flaring, his breath catching. The others closed in, their strikes precise, relentless, their forms flickering, the air crackling with energy, the ground trembling under the assault.

He ducked, rolled, blocked—his movements slowing, his limbs heavy, his lungs burning, sweat dripping into his eyes, his muscles screaming. The sync was rising, the system buzzing in his skull, a cold shiver running down his spine, his vision flickering with static. [Sync Threshold: 45%] [Cognitive Load Critical] [Directive: Endure] The alert steadied him, his hands gripping Shadowfang tighter, the hum grounding him, his resolve hardening.

The Hollow Mirrors pressed harder, their blades a wall of steel, their laughter a warped chorus, the mist thickening, tendrils clawing at his legs, pulling backward, resisting his every move. One struck his shoulder, a glancing blow, the pain sharp, blood seeping through his vest, his breath hitching, his knees buckling for a moment. "Not today," he growled, forcing himself up, a dark chuckle breaking through, his eyes narrowing, his stance defiant.

The cavern shifted, the walls closing in slightly, the symbols pulsing faster, the hum from the vortex intensifying, syncing with his heartbeat, a pulse inside him. He glanced around, the mist parting to reveal more Hollow Mirrors, their numbers growing, their pale eyes unblinking, their silence screaming accusation, the ground fracturing under their steps, the air thick with their intent.

Something was wrong.

This wasn't just a fight. It was a trap, the mist devouring his strength, the mirrors multiplying, the cavern a prison tightening around him, the vortex the only escape, its light swelling, a shadow with his silhouette twitching in the dark, reacting to his every move, the delay unsettling him, the air warping with the strain.

Liam's breath caught, his hands trembling, his legs shaking, the exhaustion dragging at him, his chest heaving. He froze, doubt clawing at his mind—could he reach it?—then instinct kicked in, a primal urge to survive surging through him, his heart racing, his eyes wide. He turned and ran, the mist lashing at his heels, pulling at him, dragging backward, the Hollow Mirrors closing in, their footfalls a synced rhythm, their breaths an unnatural chorus.

The steps fractured, reforming mid-motion, never fully stable, each landing uncertain, the cold biting his skin, his boots slipping on the slick stone, the pain in his shoulder flaring with every stride. His lungs burned, his muscles screamed—but he couldn't stop, his heart pounding, his hands clutching Shadowfang, the hum a lifeline, the mist clawing at his legs, slowing his pace, the air thick with the weight of the unseen.

The vortex loomed ahead, the only path forward, its swirling light and shadow tearing at the fabric of the void, the hum from his chest syncing with its rhythm, a pulse pulling him toward it. He didn't know what lay beyond. He didn't know if he could even survive it, the air heavy, the mist resisting, the Hollow Mirrors gaining, their laughter a warped echo of his own, the sound twisting into something sinister.

But he had no choice.

He glanced back—Hollow Mirrors lunging, their faces distorting, something worse taking shape, a grotesque twist of features—then committed. A single heartbeat of stillness, time slowing, the world holding its breath—then the drop. Chaos erupted as Liam jumped, the vortex swallowing him again, the Hollow Mirrors following, their laughter a warped echo, a hum lingering in the air, pulling him deeper into the abyss.

As he fell, the shadows waited, their presence a weight in the dark, the vortex's light fading, the hum pulsing one last time, leaving him suspended in the unknown.

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