Chapter Four: Into The Depths

The darkness swallowed me whole, its weight pressing against my chest like I'd been buried alive. Every breath felt thick and heavy, as if the air itself were alive, moving sluggishly through my lungs. Cain's words echoed in my mind, a grim reminder that the illusions I saw weren't real—but the emotions they stirred? Those were a different story.

Nyx. Her name was a bitter taste on my tongue, a reminder of everything I'd tried to leave behind. She was the reason I was here, trudging through the Shadowfjord on a path that seemed more like punishment than progress. It had been hours since she'd dismissed me with the coldness she wielded so effortlessly, but her words clung to me like smoke.

"You'll never belong," she'd said, her tone devoid of warmth, her eyes cutting through me like I wasn't worth the air I breathed.

I shook my head, trying to push the memory aside, but the fjord wouldn't let me. The reflections in the water shifted and rippled, twisting into a shape I knew all too well. My chest tightened as Nyx's face stared back at me, her expression sharp and unforgiving.

"So this is what you've been reduced to," her voice echoed, low and biting. "Chasing answers you'll never find. Pathetic."

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. "You're not real," I muttered, my voice wavering despite my best efforts.

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a humorless smile. "Aren't I?" she said. "I think you know better than that, Daggs."

The reflection rippled again, and suddenly Ghost stood beside her. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me—he just stared straight ahead, as if I wasn't worth his attention. Nyx placed a hand on his shoulder, her smile widening as she whispered, "He'll see it too, eventually. How weak you are. How useless."

My chest tightened, anger and fear warring within me. "Stop it," I said, louder this time, but the illusion didn't waver.

Nyx's gaze bore into me, cold and unrelenting. "Face it, Daggs. You've never been enough. Not for me. Not for anyone."

Her words echoed in the still air, cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. The illusion of Nyx didn't blink, didn't falter, her gaze locked onto mine as if daring me to deny what she said.

"You've always known it," she continued, her voice like the slow drip of poison. "You've never been strong enough, smart enough, brave enough. No one will ever truly rely on you because they know, deep down, you'll fail."

My hands trembled at my sides, but I clenched them into fists, my nails biting into my palms to anchor myself. "This isn't real," I muttered, repeating Cain's warning like a mantra. "This isn't real."

Her laughter was soft, mocking. "Real or not, does it matter?" She stepped closer, the reflection rippling beneath her feet like the water welcomed her. "Tell me, Daggs—have you ever done anything that mattered? Anything that made someone look at you and see more than a burden?"

The words twisted inside me like a knife, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. My mind raced, clawing for some kind of retort, some way to fight back against her venom. But the more I tried to refute her, the more her words burrowed into the corners of my thoughts, feeding on every insecurity I'd buried.

"No," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

Nyx's expression sharpened, her smile growing colder. "Exactly," she said, the single word hitting harder than any blow. "You don't matter, Daggs. Not to me, not to anyone."

The reflection in the water shifted again, and I saw Ghost standing behind her. His back was to me, his stance rigid as he stared at the horizon. I reached for him instinctively, but the image shimmered and twisted before I could take a step.

"He'll leave you too," Nyx said, her voice soft now, almost pitying. "Just like everyone else. They always do."

The darkness around me pressed closer, the air growing colder, heavier. I could feel my strength slipping away, doubt and fear wrapping around me like chains. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the illusions, but her voice followed me, relentless.

"You'll always be alone."

I stumbled back, the weight of her words pressing down on me like the entire fjord had wrapped itself around my chest. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing and relentless, and I could feel my thoughts spiraling, slipping further into the darkness.

The reflections in the water twisted again, shifting into scenes I recognized all too well—moments I had spent years trying to forget.

I saw myself standing at the edge of the Shadowlands, Nyx watching me with that same cold, disdainful expression. Her voice echoed in my mind, louder this time, like the fjord itself was amplifying her scorn. "You should have stayed where you were. This journey? It's not for someone like you."

The image rippled, shifting into Ghost and Zion together, their backs turned to me. They were speaking, their voices too faint to hear, but their body language told me everything. They didn't need me. They didn't even want me there.

I tried to look away, but the fjord wouldn't let me. My own reflection stared back at me, distorted and hollow, like I was nothing more than a shadow of the person I wanted to be.

"Why are you even here?" Nyx's voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "What do you think you'll accomplish? You don't have the strength, Daggs. You don't have anything."

The words struck hard, and for a moment, I believed them. Every failure, every mistake, every moment I'd doubted myself surged to the surface, threatening to drown me. My legs buckled, and I dropped to my knees, the jagged rocks biting into my skin as I gasped for air.

The darkness pressed closer, the cold seeping deeper, until it felt like I might disappear entirely. Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn't belong here. Maybe—

"No." The word slipped out, barely a whisper, but it was enough to break through the spiral of doubt. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe, to focus, to think.

"This isn't real," I said, louder this time. My voice wavered, but I didn't stop. "You're not real. And you don't get to decide who I am."

The shadows around me seemed to ripple in response, Nyx's reflection wavering for the first time. Her cold smile faltered, just slightly, and I felt a flicker of something I hadn't felt in a long time—defiance.

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me, but I didn't look away. "I'm not doing this for you," I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. "And I don't care what you think of me. You don't matter. Not anymore."

Nyx's eyes narrowed, and the darkness around her swirled violently, like a storm was brewing beneath the surface. "Do you think that changes anything?" she hissed, her voice sharp and venomous. "You're still nothing. You'll always be nothing."

"Maybe," I said, my jaw tightening. "But I'm not afraid of you anymore."

The storm around her intensified, the reflections shattering like glass as the fjord seemed to roar in protest. I braced myself, standing tall even as the ground beneath me shifted and the shadows threatened to swallow me whole.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm stopped. The water stilled, the darkness receded, and Nyx's image faded into nothingness.

The silence was deafening, but this time, it didn't feel suffocating. It felt... calm. Like I'd passed some kind of test.

The path back to where I had started wasn't clear—it never was in the Shadowfjord—but my feet moved instinctively, guided more by willpower than any sense of direction. The darkness didn't press against me as harshly as before, and while the cold still lingered in the air, it felt… less suffocating.

Each step steadied me, the echo of Nyx's words fading into the distance. I didn't know if I felt lighter or stronger exactly, but I'd faced her illusion—and I was still standing. For now, that was enough.

When I finally saw Ghost standing at the edge of the water, the relief hit me like a wave. He had his arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the fjord like he expected it to come alive at any moment. When he noticed me, his expression shifted—relief flickering briefly across his face before being replaced with his usual guarded look.

"Took you long enough," he said, his tone light, but there was an edge of tension beneath it.

"Yeah, well," I replied, trying to sound just as casual. "Fighting off my inner demons isn't exactly a sprint."

Ghost looked at me closely, his eyes narrowing. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, though the weight in my chest hadn't entirely lifted. "I'll be fine."

He didn't press, but his lingering gaze told me he wasn't convinced. Still, he didn't say anything, just stepped closer and clapped a hand on my shoulder. It wasn't much, but the gesture said more than any words could have.

Cain's voice cut through the quiet. "You made it back," he said, his tone cool and unreadable. He leaned against a jagged rock, his arms crossed as he regarded me with the same calculating gaze he'd had when we first met.

"Was there ever any doubt?" I shot back, surprising myself with the edge in my voice. I wasn't sure where the defiance came from—maybe it was the remnants of Nyx's words still echoing in my head—but I wasn't in the mood for Cain's judgment.

His lips twitched, almost like he was amused, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "The fjord doesn't let everyone leave," he said simply.

Ghost frowned, his grip tightening on my shoulder. "You didn't mention that part."

Cain shrugged. "You didn't ask."

I sighed, exhaustion finally catching up with me. "So, what now?" I asked, glancing between Cain and Ghost. "Is there another trial? Another illusion I have to face?"

Cain shook his head. "Not tonight," he said. "You've earned your rest. For now."

The way he said it left little room for comfort. Whatever I had gone through in the fjord was just the beginning. But as Ghost and I followed Cain back to a small outcropping where we could set up camp, I let myself breathe for the first time since I'd stepped into the darkness.

I wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring, but for now, I'd made it through. And that would have to be enough.