Silence.
For the first time since he had awoken in this abyss, Raiyan was alone.
No voice mocking him. No chains rattling. No wretches crawling toward him with hollow eyes.
Only darkness… and the sword in his trembling grip.
His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling in short, sharp bursts. His body ached—wounds stung, muscles screamed, but he was alive.
The sword… it had power.
It had answered him.
He tightened his grip around the hilt, feeling the weight of the blade in his hands. It was heavy. Not just physically, but something deeper—something he couldn't explain. Like it wasn't just a weapon… but a burden.
The ground beneath him trembled. Something had changed.
The darkness was still vast, endless, but now… it wasn't just an empty void. There was a direction. A path.
Faint, almost imperceptible, but Raiyan felt it. A pull.
Like the sword was leading him.
And he had no choice but to follow.
---
His legs burned with every step. His feet were bare, cut and bruised from the jagged ground. He had lost all sense of time.
How long had he been walking? Minutes? Hours? Days?
The darkness around him wasn't just darkness. It was… watching. Moving. Alive.
He felt its presence—something waiting.
A predator, lurking beyond his sight.
Yet it did not attack.
It was… testing him.
And that realization made his stomach twist.
---
He didn't know how much time had passed before he saw it.
A light.
Not the blinding radiance from his sword. Something different.
A faint, eerie glow, pulsing like a dying heartbeat.
A single lantern. Hanging in the middle of nothingness.
A door stood beneath it.
An old, rotting door.
It wasn't attached to anything—just standing there, alone, in the vast abyss. The wood was cracked, splintered, the edges covered in something dark and dry.
Blood.
The sword pulsed in his hand.
This was it.
His first trial.
He reached forward, fingers trembling. The door wasn't locked.
It wanted him to enter.
Raiyan took a breath.
Then, with one final glance at the endless abyss behind him—
He stepped through.
---
The air changed instantly.
The oppressive weight of the abyss was gone.
Instead, he was surrounded by whispers.
Thousands of voices, murmuring in an unfamiliar language. Soft, haunting, unrelenting.
He looked around.
A corridor stretched before him. Narrow. Infinite. The walls were lined with mirrors.
Each one cracked.
Each one distorted.
He stepped forward, cautiously. His reflection followed. But something was wrong.
He took another step.
The reflection didn't move.
His heart pounded.
Slowly… his mirrored self tilted its head.
And smiled.
Not a normal smile. Something else.
Something… that wasn't him.
The whispers grew louder.
Then—
The mirrors shattered.
And from the shards, they emerged.
Figures, twisted and broken, crawling from the glass. Their faces… were his.
Distorted versions of himself, eyes hollow, mouths stretched too wide, limbs bent at unnatural angles.
His own wretches.
The things he could have become.
The sword pulsed again.
This… was his fight.
No running. No crawling.
No more weakness.
Raiyan raised his blade.
And stepped forward.
---
To be continued…