The world around Guhin faded as his exhaustion finally overcame him. The warmth of the fire, the distant rustle of the last saddlebags being folded by Bokun, all of it dissolved into darkness. But this darkness wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating, like the void itself had swallowed him whole.

When Guhin opened his eyes, the world that greeted him was not the one he had fallen asleep in. A dense fog clung to everything, obscuring his vision so he couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead. The ground beneath his feet felt uncertain, as though he could fall through it at any moment.

Where… am I… The thought was distant, as if the words were not his own, but a whisper from someone else. He cautiously moved forward, his footsteps muffled by the fog.

Then, out of the suffocating quiet, a low, resonant toll, cut through the swirling mist. The mournful chime of a bell vibrated through his chest, sinking deep into his bones. Guhin pauzed, turning his head in the direction of the sound. He couldn’t see anything, but the bell rang again, its haunting call guiding him, urging him to move forward.

As though answering the bell’s call, the fog began to part, just enough to reveal a narrow road ahead. It was familiar, unsettlingly so. It was the road to Aryan. But something was wrong. The stones were broken and uneven, weeds and gnarled roots forcing their way through the gaps. It looked abandoned, as though nature itself had begun to reclaim it.

Though hesitant at first, Guhin followed the road, his footsteps echoing strangely on the stone. The further he walked, the more the fog receded, revealing more of the road but nothing beyond it. The world outside the path remained a grey, undefined void.

After what felt like hours, a massive, dark shape emerged from the mist ahead. Guhin’s steps slowed as he approached the gates of Aryan. But these were not the gates he remembered.

The sturdy wooden doors, which had once welcomed travelers into the village, were now weathered, and decayed. The wood was cracked and splintered, covered in a thick layer of moss and rot. Rust clung to the metal bindings, leaving them brittle, as if they would crumble to dust at the slightest touch. The sight sent a chill down Guhin’s spine, and his hand instinctively sought the comfort of his amulet, gripping it tightly.

He strained his ears, listening for any sign of life, but there was nothing—no distant laughter, no guards, not even the whisper of wind through the village. Slowly, Guhin placed his hand on the gates. The wood cold and rough beneath his palm. The moment he touched it, the bell tolled again, louder this time, as if announcing his arrival.

The gates groaned on their hinges, and slowly began to open, revealing the sight beyond, and what he saw, made his breath catch in his throat.

Aryan was in ruins. The homes, once sturdy and full of life, were broken, their walls shattered and their roofs collapsed. It was as if something enormous had wrapped itself around the village and tore it apart with monstrous strength. Aryan's lively streets were now desolate, littered with debris and the remnants of what had been.

Guhin stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He called out, his voice trembling with desperation. "Ishu! Lira! Is anyone there?"

But there was no answer. Only silence greeted him... He walked further into the village, his eyes scanning the devastation around him. There were strange markings everywhere—slithering trails in the dirt, deep gouges in the walls, holes punched through stone. The village he knew was gone, replaced by this, nightmarish version, where shadows lurked and the air was thick with the scent of decay.

Guhin’s breath quickened, his chest tightening with a growing sense of dread. He called out again, louder this time. "Ishu! Lira! Anyone!"

But once again, only silence answered him. Aryan was empty, lifeless... As he walked deeper into the ruins, the markings and holes became more frequent. Whatever had done this had left nothing behind, only destruction.

He stopped in the middle of the village square. Though the fog had lifted, a deep, oppressive darkness clung to the very stones, tainting everything with its cold, merciless touch.

Guhin stood frozen, his eyes darting across the ruins, trying to piece together what had happened to the people he knew. When suddenly, a rustling noise cut through the quiet, sharp and sudden, coming from the shadows in the corner of his vision. Guhin’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, his muscles tensing as he prepared for whatever might emerge from the darkness.

A small, familiar shape jumped out from behind a crumbling wall, landing just a few feet away from him. It was Ikaya, Ishu’s cat. Her sleek grey fur, was now bristling with tension. Her eyes were wide, reflecting a feral anger that was unusual for her size. “Ikaya,” Guhin called softly, taking a tentative step forward. “What’s wrong?”

But the moment he reached out his hand, Ikaya hissed, a sharp, almost shrieking sound escaped through her fangs. Her back arched, and her fur stood on end, making her appear twice her size. Her eyes, normally warm and curious, were now cold, wild, and filled with... hatred. Guhin pulled his hand back, confused by the cat’s reaction.

Before he could think further, a voice drifted through the air, soft and haunting. A hum, gentle and melodic, carried on the wind like a whisper, weaving through the ruins with a ghostly grace. Ikaya’s ears twitched at the sound, and her demeanor shifted instantly. Without another hiss or glance at Guhin, she turned and slipped through the gaps in the ruins, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

Guhin watched her go, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. The humming continued, pulling at him, drawing him in like a siren’s call. Without realizing it, his feet began to move...

The road ahead led to the platform that once served as the lift to the main plaza of Aryan. Its gears and pulleys, now weathered and rusted, groaned as Guhin stepped onto it. The platform ascended on its own with a creak and shudder, the humming growing louder, clearer, it was unmistakable now. The voice calling to him belonged to a woman.

When the platform reached the second level, Guhin stepped off, his eyes scanning the square. There, in the center of the main plaza, standing in front of the founding pillars of Aryan, he saw her.

A woman, her back turned to him, her long, brown hair cascading over a tattered white dress. She was holding Ikaya in her arms, gently stroking the cat’s fur as she continued to hum that soft, entrancing tune.

Guhin approached cautiously. As the bell high up in the tower tolled again, the woman turned. When her face came into view, Guhin’s heart stopped for a moment, and a surge of recognition washed over him.

It's her.

“Merin,” he said, the name escaping his lips like a curse. The woman standing before him was the very one they were about to hunt—the Witch of the East, the granddaughter of Marheen. The woman he had saved with his own hands.

Merin continued to pet Ikaya, her fingers trailing through the cat’s fur with an unsettling calmness. Her blue eyes shone in the dark, sparkling with a mischievous light as she looked at Guhin, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Oh, we have a visitor,” she said, her voice honeyed and smooth. “And such a handsome one.”

Guhin’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he took another step forward. “What are you doing here, Merin? What have you done?”

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Merin tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering. “What do you mean?” she asked lightly. “Am I not allowed to be here?”

Her tone, so casual, angered Guhin. His voice rose, cutting through the eerie calm. “Answer me! Where is everyone?!”

But Merin smiled wider, her eyes glinting with something... unspoken. She continued to stroke Ikaya’s fur, the humming of her tune resuming softly under her breath.

She ignored Guhin, fueling his frustration as fists clenching at his sides. “Answer me!” he demanded, taking a threatening step forward.

Merin stopped her song abruptly, and she met his gaze with a calm that only deepened his anger. “Everyone's fine…” she said. “They’re in a better place now.”

Something inside Guhin snapped. He prepared to move, to close the distance between them and force her to give him the answers he needed. But before he could take another step, Merin’s hand shot forward, her fingers curving toward him like the talons of a predator.

The ground beneath her feet responded instantly. Black, twisted roots sprouted from the earth like shadows. They snaked up her legs before lunging forward, wrapping themselves around Guhin’s wrists and ankles. He barely had time to react before the roots yanked him to the ground, their cold grip biting into his skin.

An excruciating pain surged through his body, starting from where the roots constricted him and spreading outward like wildfire. He gritted his teeth, his vision blurring as the pain intensified, every nerve screaming in agony.

“Don’t worry,” Merin whispered, her voice almost tender as she looked down at him. “It will all be over soon…”

As she raised her hand high above her head, the ground behind her began to crack and split open, releasing a dark, oily substance that oozed from the earth. The strange liquid began to form massive roots that shot upward, weaving together to create a monstrous tree of darkness.

The tree loomed over Guhin, its leafless branches pointing at the sky. But what caught his attention, what made his breath catch in his throat despite the roots that strangled his body, were the voices. Faint, withering voices, that came from within the tree.

Through the haze of his agony, Guhin forced his eyes to focus on the dark mass before him. The villagers of Aryan, their faces contorted in pain and terror, were entangled within the tree’s roots. Their bodies were wounded and bound, their life force being drained away, leaving them pale and gaunt. They were trapped, trapped into the monstrous creation before him.

"No," Guhin's voice broke at the horrific sight. "This isn't real. This can't be real."

His legs trembled as he tried to break free from the roots holding him down, but the more he struggled, the tighter their grip became, as if they were feeding off his emotions. His mind raced, searching for any possibility to save them, but there was none. The villagers—his people—were beyond saving, their fate sealed within the dark heart of the tree. All the while, Merin watched him, watched him with that same calmness, as if she were merely an observer to some tragic play.

Guhin’s eyes traveled frantically up the length of the gnarled tree, scanning the entangled bodies of the villagers in desperation. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat growing louder in his ears as he searched for the ones who mattered most. Up, down, left, right...

And then, he saw them.

At the very top, barely visible through the dense tangle of roots, were Ishu and his mother, Lira. They were clinging to each other, gasping for air as the tree’s grip tightened around them, squeezing the life from their frail bodies. Ishu's small hands grabbed his mother's dress, while Lira cradled her son tightly, her lips moving in silent prayer.

"No no no," Guhin breathed, a surge of raw panic coursing through him. "Not them. Ishu! Lira!"

Merin’s soft laughter cut through the chaos. She followed his gaze, her blue eyes alight with amusement as they landed on Ishu and Lira. "Ah," she mused, her voice tilting, almost playful. "You love them, don't you?"

"Let them go!" Guhin roared, his voice cracking under his desperation. "Take me instead! Do whatever you want with me, just let them go!"

Merin turned back to him, her smile widening, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than before. She crouched beside him. Her hand reached out, fingers trailing along his jaw in a mockery of tenderness. "Oh, sweetheart." She whispered, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "This isn't about you. It never was."

"What?" Guhin blurted in confusion.

Merin stood and turned her gaze toward the ashen clouds as a smile spread across her face. “He’s coming,” she whispered. Guhin’s eyes shot open wide, filled with disbelief. He turned his gaze to Merin, who had now fixed her wicked stare directly on him. Her eyes gleamed with a cruel blue light as she spoke. “It’s time…”

“No… Don't do this, please!” Guhin gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

And in that instant, the tree responded to Merin's command. The roots tightened around the villagers, Ishu's small body convulsed under the pressure, his cries could barely be heard over the wailing chorus. Lira’s wide, tear-filled eyes found Guhin's, pleading silently, her lips forming words he couldn’t hear.

"Help us," her lips mouthed.

"I'm sorry," Guhin choked, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

Time seemed to slow as Merin raised her hand, her fingers curling into a fist, and with a sickening crunch, the tree crushed them all in its grip. Blood rained down from above, splattering onto the ground, onto Guhin, drenching him in the crimson remains of those he had once known. “No!” he screamed, straining against the roots with every ounce of strength he had left, but it was useless. Ishu, Lira... everyone, was gone.

Merin's face was serene, her voice soft. "It's done." She said, while she walked toward him, unhurried, the raining blood soaking her tattered white dress as it clinged to her body. In one hand, she still held Ikaya, the cat’s grey fur now nothing but a dry, lifeless husk. Without a glance, she let Ikaya’s body fall to the ground, careless, the cat crumbling into dust as it touched the earth.

Reaching Guhin, she knelt down beside him once more, her fingers sliding through his hair with a mock tenderness that made his skin crawl. She grabbed his hair tightly, pulling him close, so that her lips brushed against his ear. Her cold breath reeked of decay. "You’ll see soon enough," she said, her voice brimming with malice. "I’m coming for it all. Every little piece—your hope, your loved ones, your strength... even your soul. I’ll take it, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me."

Guhin tried to pull away but her grip tightened, the sharp tug of his hair locking him in place. Her blue eyes gleamed with sadistic delight, when suddenly.

Her body jerked, a violent twitch that shuddered through her frame. Her shoulders spasmed, her chest heaving as if something inside her was clawing its way out. A hacking sound escaped her lips, and thick rivulets of blood spilled from her mouth, running down her chin and staining her teeth.

And then she smiled—a ghastly, blood-smeared grin. “Here... we... go...” she whispered.

Merin’s convulsions grew worse, her body bending in unnatural ways as a deep, guttural growl escaped her throat. Her neck twisted sharply, and blood began to pour from her nose and ears. Guhin's eyes widened with horror as he watched her body contort.

"Merin!" he shouted, though his voice cracked as the roots binding his body coiled even tighter. "Stop this! You—"

But his words didn't reach her, as Merin's head snapped back, her mouth opening impossibly wide as the sharp, black edge of a beak tore its way out from her gaping maw. Flesh and bone split apart, blood spurting like a fountain. Guhin could only watch, paralyzed, as the jagged beak within her pushed further, followed by talons and feathers...

Merin's blue eyes trembled, quaking even, until they met Guhin's for one final time... She closed her eyes, and as they shut, her body shattered apart, releasing hundreds of crows in a shrieking storm of black. The air filled with their deafening cries as they swirled into the sky, forming a massive, chaotic vortex above the tree of darkness. Their movements grew faster, spiraling tighter and tighter.

Then, with terrifying speed, they plunged downward. Each bird crashed into the tree, vanishing in a burst of crackling energy, absorbed into its hideous form.

The blood from the villagers began to seep back into the bark. Its skeletal branches turning inward, folding and collapsing as the monstrous tree shrank into itself. The once-gargantuan form warped and compacted until all that remained was a pulsating, ominous sphere of pure darkness, hovering above the ruined plaza.

Slowly, it descended, drifting passed the founding pillars of Aryan. The air grew heavy as though the world itself was holding its breath.

When it landed, when it so much as touched the cracked stone underneath, a single, deep toll from the bell tower, reverberated through the ruins. The sphere cracked, a thin fracture spreading across its surface. Another toll followed, louder this time, and the cracks splintered like veins of light in the dark.

The third toll rang, and with it, the sphere ruptured, exploding outward in a burst of darkness that swallowed everything. The release sending a shockwave rippling through the plaza, shaking what little remained of the world around it.

From the broken shell of the sphere, a figure began to emerge, rising amidst the swirling black mist. It was clad in silver, rusted armor. Black wings unfurled behind it, while a feathered cloak flowed around its form like a living shadow. Beneath its silver-beaked mask, an empty, hollow gaze pierced through the darkness, staring directly at Guhin.

The being stepped forward, its presence suffocating, yet disturbingly familiar. Guhin's breath quickened, his heart pounding in his chest as a name formed on his lips. "Fu... Fukujin? Is that you?"

image [https://i.imgur.com/BTBOrjV.png]

GUHIN!