daughter of the abyss

The dragon stirred.

Its body, a blend of red and black, shimmered like molten coal beneath a dying sun. Twisting horns spiraled from its skull like ancient branches, and jagged spikes lined its spine in a grotesque crown. Its wings unfurled, kicking up a storm of dust and malevolence. The altar lay shattered at its feet.

Tae Hyun and Jinhwan stood still, chests rising, breath fogging in the cold dread that poured from the beast.

It blinked slowly, eyes glowing like twin furnaces.

"We need to move," Jinhwan murmured.

Tae Hyun nodded. "Together."

They sprang.

Jinhwan's saber slashed down with a crack of qi, and Tae Hyun's twin daggers sliced forward, spinning with speed and precision. Their blades sparked off the dragon's scales, leaving barely a scratch. The creature didn't flinch.

With a roar, it swung its tail. Jinhwan blocked it with the flat of his blade, but the force launched him through the air like a broken arrow. Tae Hyun ducked beneath the swipe, flipped, and landed behind the dragon. His daggers sank into its flank—only shallowly. Not enough.

The dragon twisted, its head sweeping toward him like a meteor. Tae Hyun leapt back, the ground erupting where he stood.

Jinhwan coughed blood but stood again, aura flaring. "We're not going to brute-force this."

Tae Hyun clenched his jaw. "Then we outsmart it."

They fell into a rhythm. Jinhwan danced forward, his strikes a blur, forcing the dragon to turn. Tae Hyun used the distraction to leap atop the beast's back, driving his blades into a joint between the wing and the shoulder. It shrieked, spinning violently, throwing him off.

He crashed hard.

Jinhwan caught his breath. "Its joints. They're the only weak points."

"Then we target them together."

They executed the plan. Jinhwan surged toward its legs while Tae Hyun moved for the wings. But the dragon adapted. Faster. Smarter. Its tail lashed again—not wide this time, but precise.

It caught Jinhwan mid-dash.

There was a sickening crunch.

Jinhwan flew, blood trailing, before slamming into a pillar with enough force to snap stone. He slumped to the ground, motionless.

"Jinhwan!" Tae Hyun screamed.

The dragon turned to him.

Rage boiled up.

He sprinted, eyes wild. His daggers blurred, his qi surged, his muscles screamed. Shadows clung to his skin as he poured everything into one final strike. The dragon opened its jaws—too slow to stop him.

He leapt.

He roared.

His daggers struck the dragon's chest.

Nothing.

Not even a dent.

The dragon reared back and slashed with a single claw. It tore through Tae Hyun's stomach. Blood burst from the wound as he was flung through the air, tumbling across the floor.

He gasped, clutching his abdomen.

The dragon loomed above him, eyes burning.

It raised a claw.

Tae Hyun stared up, his vision blurring, the heat of his blood spilling around him.

Then—

Darkness fell.

Yul's vision swam in black-and-white haze, as if she peered through a storm of ash and memory. Her skin felt slick with cold sweat; her robes, now torn, clung to her like wet shadows. She blinked, each pulse of darkness more suffocating than the last.

Before her loomed the Abyssal Dragon—a mountain of living shadow, its scales rippling with violet and crimson light. Its great wings folded like night fallen around its shoulders. Tendrils of mist curled from its back, whispering her name.

She staggered backward. Her heart pounded so loud she thought the world might shatter around her. Her arm flailed, dozens of jagged mountains of shadow blocking every escape route.

Breathe.

Another wave of vertigo. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring the dragon's monstrous silhouette into something impossibly sad and beautiful. She sank to one knee, her hand pressing against the cold ground.

"Yul," the voice rumbled—more felt than heard—a low reverberation that shook her bones. "Fear not."

His amethyst eyes softened, and the miasma of discord in the cavern stilled. The oppressive darkness receded like a tide. Echoes of wings beating vanished.

Yul pressed trembling fingers to her temples. Slowly, color returned to the world: the dragon's scales gleamed deep onyx with veins of red, her own robes a midnight blue stained with dust.

She dared to raise her gaze. Up close, the dragon's horns spiraled like onyx thorns, each scale carved like obsidian shards. Yet those eyes—burning with sorrow and ancient wisdom—looked upon her not as prey, but as kin.

She swallowed, voice cracking. "I… I can't see."

A tendril of smoke-mist drifted down, coiling gently around her shoulders like a shawl. The dragon's voice was calm, almost tender. "Your sight will return when your heart is still. Trust the darkness within you."

Yul closed her eyes, inhaling. Inside, echoes of the abandoned forest, the screams of her fallen comrades, the pounding of distant wings swirled in her mind. She held her breath—let the world be silent.

Light and shadow meshed behind her eyelids. When she opened her eyes again, the cavern stood clear. The jagged peaks of darkness were gone. Only the dragon and her remained.

Tears welled unbidden. She fell fully to her knees. "Please," she whispered, voice raw as cracked earth. "Save… Tae Hyun. Jinhwan. Don't let them die on my account."

The dragon lowered its head, the sigil on its chest glowing softly. A single tear-like droplet of violet light slid down its snout, dissipating in the still air.

In that moment, Yul understood: she was the child of chaos's prophecy, born into night—but not alone. Terror gave way to fragile hope.

Her tears fell freely as she reached out—begging not just for mercy, but for the salvation of the friends whose lives now depended on her new bond with the dragon of endings.