The air thickened, a stifling heat pressed down upon us. The once-clear sky bled into an ominous crimson, choked by plumes of black smoke. Death and despair awaited us. As we crossed a bend in the road, both Schlik and Garen simply vanished before my eyes. Only Ayako and I remained, our arses clinging to the saddle. I reined in my steed at slow pace, left us wondering in disbelief,

“Odd. Truly odd,” I gasped. “Where are they?”

“Like I said,” replied Ayako. “I doubt this is the same as your ‘purple glimmering stone’ theory.”

“What do you mean?”

“How about we get to the fire first before I assume things?”

Once again, I urged my horse forward, hooves pounding against the well-trodden ground. The answer I craved shimmered just beyond a veil of swirling mist. The world had fallen silent, save for the mournful howl of a wind that seemed to claw at our souls. Fear, an unwelcome one, coiled in my gut. The world crafted by Gidden became alien and warped. It felt like a monstrous farce, sculpted by the unseen hand lurking behind this… anomaly. Only the foolhardy grit of the desperate would dare unravel its darkness.

Reaching out of the woodland, a sight worse than nightmare finally revealed before our eyes.

“The village… is burning.”

The village was not burning, it was immolating. Homes became pyres, spewing screams that curdled into a chorus of terror. Some fled, their panicked bellows echoing the dying. Others writhed on the ground, human torches desperately clawing at their fiery shrouds. Helpless. Hopeless. Hapless. The Norsians, clad in cold iron and leather, moved like reapers through the wheat. Each swing of their cruel axes silenced a scream, leaving only the hiss of singed flesh. Fury, a coiling viper, tightened in my gut. My hand, slick with sweat, gripped the reins like a vice. A spear, heavy with the vow of vengeance, came to light in the other.

“Oh no, don’t you think—”

Whilst ignoring Ayako’s plea, I closed my eyes, sighed, and purred, “May Gidden grant me light and might, for I must slay these fiends who maraud men, rape women, and nobble children.

My prayer, a silent curse on their lips, I donned my helmet and spurred my horse into a thundering charge. The Norsians loomed, his axe raised, but I was a blur of fury. My spear lanced forward, a viper striking. It punched through his chest with a sickening squelch, pinning him like a wriggling insect. He let out a choked gasp, then slumped lifelessly. I ripped the spear free. Another rose in my hand before the first corpse hit the ground. They were slow, these raiders, their lumbering swings a grotesque dance of death. Each axe whistled past, harmless against the churning fury of my steed. Ayako screamed, clinging to my waist, but her terror fueled me further, for she was witnessing my might.

Man after man. Corpse after corpse. I was a whirlwind of steel, carving a bloody path through their ranks.

“Bloody hell,” cried Ayako, “when will this bloody madness stop?”

I waved aside, for my focus was slaying these cursed Norsian reavers with my worthy spear and steed.

“Look out! Above you!”

A monstrous roar ripped through the air. Before I could react, a figure soared above, a blur of leather and fury. His iron boot slammed into my helm with a bone-jarring crack. Gloomy clouds erupted in my vision as I, along with Ayako, were ripped from the saddle. We tumbled onto the hard ground, the wind knocked from our lungs. The glorious charge was over.

Gasping for air, I scrambled to my feet. My sight swam, but the fearsome figure was already charging. His shaved head, adorned with savage tattoos, gleamed like a pale moon under his matted beard. A lolling tongue and eyes like bloodshot coals earned the look of a rabid beast. He was the mightiest of these reavers, a walking furnace of bloodlust. But all of it never appalled me, for I am a sworn knight with Gidden’s might and firmest arms. Before his axes swung before me, steel sang in my grip, as I held Ayako’s shoulder with my other grip and hauled a javelin towards him. It missed, yet whistled past his ears, flitting itself in the air mere inches from the brute's boot. Then a flicker of light shimmered, beaming us twice a dozen walks’ breadth away. The brute roared in frustration, left flailing his axes at empty air.

His gaze snapped to me, his eyes widening with a dark intensity. A humourless smirk twisted his lips, a glint of malice crashing before my sight. His hand tightened into a fist, knuckles white, the air around him crackling with unspoken menace. His tongue licked every ounce of blood which belonged to our fallen brothers and sisters.

“Thou may swing thy axes as much as thou canst,” I said, long steel casting into my hand, “yet the might of thy steel will never match Her Gidden’s. May all heavenly ghosts curse thee farthest from grace, for thou art nothing, but a fiend. Is it not right, Njal?”

A guttural chuckle, devoid of mirth, slithered from Njal's lips at my words. The man was a walking embodiment of depravity - a champion fueled by war, a slave to gluttony, and a creature ruled by lust. The mere flick of his tongue against his lips brought nothing, but disgust through me. Every fibre of his being reeked of a sickening evil in the blood.

“Ah ja,” Njal said, marching towards me, “a thiroleg feghur from the Silish crown. Fat er lang sidan. How was thy kriningarathof? Was it all worth gull and dyr after saving thy beloved motherland? From us? We, thy bloobrawer from afar?”

“Silence,” I cried out of wrath, raising my sharp blade, all ready to either pounce or fend for ourselves. “I do not want to hear thy words of pardon from the likes of thee, all the while thou and thy brethren have been reaving their homes, raping women, and even grieving children.”

“E alvoru?” he chuckled and shrugged. “Heldorov af pas skipta alliu mauli?”

“Speak thy sound tongue.”

And all of a sudden, Njal bent his legs, his iron boots enchanted with great air, then jumped towards me. Fuwon, it was called, bringing himself across the flitting air. Axes glinting, he descended with the intent to cleave me in two. His jump was fast. Agility was not my strong suit. And yet, my might could never waver with such pardon. So I cast the shield into my grip. Its size was as thick and great as my whole trunk, yet felt light in my grasp. As Njal roared down, I slammed the shield into his chest with all my might. The impact sent his axes clattering away, disarming him. This was my chance! I found a clear opening, then cast my heavy halberd and hauled it towards him. But with his swift sense, he managed to snag the shaft with one hand.

Yet that was all I needed. A fleet hope for a fleet finish. With a surge of magic and focus, my body faded into a beaming blur, reforming along the length of the halberd. Then I pushed it headlong right into the chest and thrusted. At last, his eyes gaped in horror, and his cough spewed a fountain of blood. With a final finish, I blurred my halberd, then cast my longsword. Swinging across his neck, his head flew, then dropped onto the ground.

Frankly, all I could do was only read his unwise mind and foolhardy moves. The mightiest thew could never outdo the bravest mind.

However, it was all for naught, for I grasped the current prevailing situation here.

Drawing near his head, I looked down upon him, my eyes brimmed with utmost wrath.

“May Gidden forgive thee,” I mumbled, “but I and the souls of those who fall dead by thy sheer bloodlust shan’t redeem thee in heaven, Her Gidden’s abode.”

Meanwhile, after watching our brief fighting show, Ayako arose and approached me from behind. Her eyes shared my sight, pity and disgust churning in her gut. Death, once again, feared her. Yet, unlike Liu Sheng’s grotesque show of death, she never flinched and fled.

“I assume,” said Ayako, “things seem right all along.”

“Right… things seem right all—”

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A searing agony lanced through my back. Whipping around, I met Ayako's gaze, but now morphed into an uncouth stare, devoid of warmth, filled with a chilling mopery and a flickering terror. As if stewarded by some unseen evil, her hand, my trustworthy friend's hand, gripped a dagger that pierced my firm armour. A stab in the back choked the air, thick and suffocating. Yet, my body still stood firm, woefully firm. How could this be? Was this even ‘Ayako’ to begin with? Who was this being born with Ayako’s false likeness?

“Things may seem right at all,” ‘Ayako’ said, her voice becoming a deep, fiendish whistle, “but what shall your lost crown do to not fall upon the hands stained by blood and blight? Even with your own flesh and blood? Even with your own trustworthy folks? Even with your sworn sisters? And even with the name of Her Gidden?”

“Whatever… Do you mean?” I stammered, brimming with pain. Yet, my eyes still opened wide and alive.

“She means,” another fiendish voice interrupted. It came from Njal’s decollated head, whipping around with its twisted scruff. His eyes tainted with faint red, crimson veins glaring before me. “That everything will fall apart!”

“What… who are you now?”

“It’s still me, you fallega fifl. Do you think even after my death… my eyes would never watch you stumbling across the rugged ground of stones? Foolishness. Utter foolishness.”

“Foolishness?” I snorted. “Me stumbling across the ground of stones? After saving my brothers and sisters from you and even those gannets from the east? After bidding my folk to stretch our betterment with fair share of—”

“Nog… nog.”

“Fair share of gold and glo—”

“Phogn, enough of your needless vaunt!” his cry interrupted, eyes widened with great wrath and cheeks wrinkled with deep frown. Silence pulled my breath tight and harsh, his ugly, wry face somehow took my eyes aback. Then he lowered his deep, seething voice. “I would like to carve your ‘high-and-mighty’ mind once and for all… merely with my own words, no matter how you deem it unworthy or not. Close your lips and pay heed, E er hawk!”

I paused,

“Gour,” he giggled. “Hear me. As you’ve stumbled upon the farther coming times, whatever you’ve seen there is a whole different world, no matter how the land—your beloved motherland—is real and unchanged. Some fellows of yours in that time, the time of an unbelonging future, might say to you that what happened in your rightful era is far unworthy of what it has become now, but I shall tell you this…. Even a small act that you have bade…. ‘Stretch them the boons’? ‘Remould them into the proper folk’?” Then he laughed, as shrill as wicked bedlam’s cackle, ceasing nevermore until his very last breath.

Soon after, a blur of brown erupted from the shadows, a booted foot colliding with Njal's head with a sickening crunch. Like a madman stomping on a rotten tomato, the once-despicably-proud reaver was reduced to a bloody pulp. My sight snagged on two flashes of gold - shock, perhaps? - but the figure's face remained shrouded in the faint cloak's hood. Only a hint of crimson, a cold frown etched on unseen lips, peeked out before a glint of metal caught the light. A handgun, pulled from the depths of the cloak with deft ease.

“Another doom… another doom… another doom… another doom,” ‘Ayako’ repeated.

The whispered chant died on her lips as the cloaked figure whipped around, gun snapping to aim. Not at me, but at her – the backfriend. A sharp crack echoed, and the false Ayako crumpled, a crimson stain blooming on her forehead. The hand holding the dagger in my back slackened, the lifeless body thudding to the ground.

A groan ripped from my throat, a raw rasp against the searing pain. My knees buckled, sending me sprawling onto the dirt. I kindled my sword and stuck its point into the soil, my grip lifting the bust up. Gasping for air, I fought against the encroaching darkness, a roar echoing in my chest. The brown figure loomed closer, a glint of metal catching the light. Was it mercy, or another betrayal? Her hands gripped on the dagger. Pulling away, it came free, a wet tear against my skin, and a surge of fury—at a braid—banished the pain.

“Think… imagine,” said the brown figure, sounding like a soft, guileful witch, “and you will stand firm on this very ground.”

Her words grated against my unbelief, and the phantom pain of the wound unfolded in a nightmare. Still, a sliver of logic pierced the cloud of terror. Imagine, a single word holding the weight of a lifeline.

Should I imagine? The very thought felt like a desperate gamble, a leap of faith into the maw of the unknown. However, the veil of mystery around this brown figure, this world gone mad, demanded an answer. Gritting my teeth, I steeled myself. I had to imagine.

“Wait,” I said, slowly raising my knees. “The pain… it’s all gone.”

“Because your curiosity remains true,” she said, “it also holds true.”

Checking, I reached back, fingers brushing against the slick wetness where the dagger had been. But there was nothing. No gaping wound, no throbbing pain. Just a chilling gloss where moments ago, there was a searing agony. Was it a dream? Some twisted illusion?

“Where are we?” I asked the brown figure, “and who even are you?”

“I can answer the former, but not the latter.”

“No,” I gripped my blade on guard, eyes locking on the figure. “I demand both answers.”

“And I demand you first to lower your blade before I can offer you an answer.”

“And I demand you to strip your cowl off before I will lower my weapon.”

The brown figure paused, her head shaking and her breath heaving a sigh, “Indeed, so bloody high and mighty, aren’t you?”

The brown figure lifted her hands at a steady, deliberate pace, holding my eyes. The fabric of the hood fell back, revealing...

Nothing?

No face. Just a smooth, pale canvas where a head should be, crowned with a shock of golden hair. Although she had no lips, she could speak. My jaw slackened, a silent scream trapped in my throat. The blade clattered from my nerveless fingers, clattering onto the ground with a hollow echo.

“Eh?”

“Fear not,” said the brown figure, “for my name wasn’t known to you, so did my face. That’s why I can’t answer your second question.”

“But… you can even say your name, aye?”

“I can, but because I don’t even know who I really am, I can’t even speak my true name. Other than… I’m merely your ‘guardian angel’, per se.”

“Fairly stated, but… wait? You are my guardian angel?”

“Wryly speaking,” the faceless figure faced behind. “But I’m sure I don’t come from either Gidden’s kingdom or even the… Deep Abyss, as you can call it. I’m just… a being that has been residing inside you since your arrival.”

I was silent for a long while. Believe her? Or doubt her? A thought of it spiralling inside my mind.

“Should you deem me as a fiendish being, thrust me through my back and brand me whatever you see right.”

Doubt gnawed at me. Sure, this faceless stranger was a complete unknown, someone I never trusted in reality. But what about in this twisted flight of fancy? What reason did she have to lie? With a heavy sigh, I lowered my blade, letting it vanish in a shimmer of vanishing light

“However,” the faceless figure continued, “I may state alone… that I’m a sole nobody who comes across you. And here, we’re merely stepping on the abnormality—your own abnormality, so to speak.”

“Abnormality? You mean… this place?”

“Yes. In other words, you’re in a deep—deepest slumber.”

“What?” I looked down on my body, my hands still seeming and moving normally. “But I still can touch… feel… think like a conscious being, right?”

“It’ll be simple for you to understand why the stab wound on your back suddenly goes… puff.”

“So it’s all my thoughts, huh?”

She was silent for a long while.

“How do we get out of here, though?” I asked. “Are we bloody trapped?”

Once again, she stayed silent, perhaps wondering what she could tell.

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Thrice, she kept her voice. Blade held high, I slinked towards her from behind.

“Gal, you may stab me in the back,” the faceless figure finally cried, suddenly halting my scheme, “but at least give me a moment to think of an answer!”

“What the—” I flinched.

“Even if my face doesn't have eyes, I can still see you sneaking up on me like some amateur assassin.”

Terror knotted in my gut. Not just from her horrifying look, but from her wielding air. Yet, trapped in this twisted ‘world’ beneath my own eyes, I grasped. Perhaps, in this bewildering madness, her foresight held a sliver of truth.

“Anyway, I can’t think of anything sensible,” she continued, then her faceless head turned behind, “Save that you’d imagine… imagine…”

“Imagine… what?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’? You are the one who knows more than I do.”

“Like I said, this is abnormal. It seems… something foreign is toying around.”

“Something foreign?” I repeated, then an image of hooded one’s crimson eyes bursting in front came across my mind. “Wait… it could not be—”

Just as I was about to say, the world melted into an unsteady whirl. A gyre of inky darkness surged before my eyes, stealing the light and sound from my surroundings. Was this...? Sleep? Death? The very question seemed absurd in the face of the whirling emptiness. As the world faded to a cold, quiet void, I let out a hoarse chuckle in a desperate bid for my sanity.

Darkness, once again.