The sprawling fields stretched out endlessly, quiet and unsettling, with a strange haze hanging in the air that seemed to swallow up sound. I sat across from my two doppelgangers, my gaze fixed on them, wide-eyed and uneasy. They looked like me, moved like me, but not quite… they were off, somehow. Watching them was like looking into two very different warped mirrors.
Death settled himself behind me with that unnerving stillness he always carried, like he was carved from emotionless stone. Myoordrakien, on the other hand, couldn’t sit still. He paced around the edges of our strange meeting spot, his movements restless and predatory. He reminded me of a dog held back by a fence, staring through the gaps, waiting for the moment it could break free.
Death didn’t say a word at first, just gave Myoordrakien a cold, blank look before motioning for him to sit. Without hesitation, the Primeval slumped onto a tree stump nearby, as if he’d been waiting for permission all along. And so, in this eerie space… somewhere between worlds… we started talking.
“How does it feel?” Death’s voice was flat and emotionless, cutting straight through the stillness.
I looked down at my hands. His question lingered in the air as I flexed my fingers, turning my arms over to study them. Everything about me felt different, sharper… stronger. I clenched a fist and felt muscles coil with a power that wasn’t entirely my own. Somewhere, just beyond what I could see or touch, I felt a massive reservoir of strength waiting to be called on. It was like Myoordrakien’s true form existed in another dimension but tethered to me by a thread that could never be severed. The thought of that much raw power was intoxicating… but it also scared the shit out of me.
“Stronger now,” Myoordrakien said, his deep, growling voice breaking the silence. His black eyes drilled into me with a sharp intensity that made my skin crawl.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah... What he said… I guess.” The words felt clumsy coming out of my mouth. “It does feel… strange. Like I was supposed to have this... Like everything led up to this moment,” I thought the words out loud as I looked up to Death-me. “Am I just imagining that?”
Death’s mouth twitched into a faint smirk, something that was almost a smile but colder, more calculating. “It’s not your imagination,” he said. “This is another step forward. The next step of the Primeval’s power has woken in you, and with it, the ability to channel a piece of mine. You’re becoming what you were always meant to be.”
His words were calm, but they hit like a hammer. I wanted to push back, to question everything, but a different thought took over. “What if things had gone differently?” I asked, my voice sharper now. “What if I’d killed the elder? If I’d beaten them all? Would I still be here?”
Death’s expression didn’t change. “No. You couldn’t have beaten them. Maybe one, two at most if you were smarter… those with weaker pieces of Hunger’s power. But their domain drained you. It sapped your strength, and it suppressed Myoordrakien’s power entirely. You were never meant to win.”
Myoordrakien leaned forward with a twisted grin that revealed too many teeth. “Slaughtered like a lamb,” he said, his tone deep and gravely. “But reborn in annihilation. Burned away and reforged.”
I glared at him, uneasy. The way he spoke, it felt like he wanted to claim my death as his own handiwork. He hadn’t been there at all… not to help me… or them. I was on my own. But he acted like it was something he wished he’d been a part of… I was unsure which side.
Death’s voice cut through again, colder than before. “Your old self… the human part of you, was holding you back. It had to go. To continue the work ahead, you need more power. And now, you have it.”
The fields grew quiet again, the stillness pressing in from all sides. Myoordrakien’s presence loomed like a shadow at the edge of my thoughts. I could feel it now… him… always there, watching, ready to move.
I motioned down toward my new body, grown straight from the Primeval’s heart, and let out a sharp breath. “So all this,” I said, gesturing to myself, “is just to make me more like him? To turn me into an even bigger monster than I was before… the kind that could take on the ones who killed me? This… this was part of your plan from the start, wasn’t it?” My voice was edged with frustration as I stared him down. “You sent me down there with a smile on your face, acting like I could actually mess up your plans if I didn’t kill every single elder. Was all that just a lie?”
Death didn’t flinch. He just gave me that same faint smirk, one corner of his mouth lifting in an expression that reeked of fading amusement, like he was watching a play he’d seen countless times before… with my predecessors. “Yes… and no,” he said evenly, his tone maddeningly calm.
I wondered if Jon had reacted the same way when it happened to him. Jon… the one who carried this burden before me. Had he gone through all of this?
Death spoke again, his voice as unyielding as stone. “I may have let you believe certain things. But understand this: to get the results I need, knowledge is often a liability. The more you know, the more you’ll...” He paused, his gaze fixed on mine as if waiting for me to connect the dots on my own.
“Fuck it up?” I asked bluntly, my frustration slipping into my tone.
Death snapped his fingers and pointed at me, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Exactly,” he said, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “The less you know, the better. I sense your frustration… but… you need to remember your charge. You are a tool, one I forged myself. You made the deal, and this is the result. My plans will succeed with or without your approval.”
His words were harsh… and I still felt the same frustrations. It wasn’t just like there was a single phrase or word that could give me the peace and validation that all this was just hunky dory. “But did I have to die like that? Was that absolutely necessary? You could have warned me…” I tried, but he cut me off.
“If I told you everything, you… like so many before… would have opinions. Too many cooks in the kitchen, and all that. I don’t need your input; I’ve already accounted for every step you’ll take. Every decision you make, every path you walk… these are adjustments I allow. Small course corrections that serve my ultimate purpose. My plans are my own, and I tell you only what you need to know to get there. Some of that is lies… but some is truth…”
His voice didn’t waver once. Cold, steady, and absolute. His eyes locked on mine, unblinking, unyielding, and full of an authority that crushed any thought of rebellion.
“You think you have a choice in certain matters,” he continued. “You don’t. Things will unfold as I’ve seen, and you will play your part… willingly. There is a reason you were chosen for this after all…”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. There was no room for argument. Death’s will was final. But the way he said it… it stirred something in me. Like there was something he wasn’t saying that meant a lot more than I had ever realized. As always… I got questions answered, but more arose.
Death gestured with a slow, deliberate motion toward me as I sat across from him. “This new transformation has granted you more power, yes… but it’s more than that. It’s forged a bond, one closer to the Primeval than you could have ever imagined possible.” His voice was calm, but there was a weight to his words, each one sinking deep. “One body, two minds, and a heart that I’ve kept safe for you… within my domain.”
He turned, motioning to the massive crater behind the fields, deep below the jagged cliffs. The Primeval’s heart still pulsed deep within, its echoing thuds resonating like a monstrous clock. “However, this power is not an end in itself. It’s not about becoming Myoordrakien for the sake of monstrosity. No, that’s merely a prerequisite for what is in store.”
With that, Death reached to his side, and from some unseen void, he pulled out a weapon that gleamed like liquid silver under an invisible light. Its surface was etched with names, symbols, and carvings from countless cultures… every hand that had wielded it before, every soul that carried this burden.
The sight of it stopped me cold. It was the same massive silver blade I’d known, but somehow different. It felt heavier now, more significant as if it carried the weight of every soul it had ever touched. I felt a fog of invisible power dripping from it… ready to claim… something.
“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice quiet as my eyes darted between Death and the blade. “I already had this before. Why did something need to change?”
Before Death could answer, I noticed Myoordrakien. His eyes were locked on the blade, wide and unblinking, filled with an urge so intense it sent a chill down my spine. His teeth clenched hard enough to crack stone, his whole body rigid with desire. For a moment, I thought he might leap from his place and take it by force.
And then Death did something that froze the blood in my veins… he stepped forward and handed the blade to Myoordrakien.
The change was immediate. Myoordrakien’s tense form relaxed, his features softening. The black-gray lines that had crept out from his eyes retreated, fading back beneath his skin. His talons shortened, becoming dark, blunt nails. Even his monstrous aura dimmed. He looked… calm. His breathing slowed, deep and steady, and he stood with an almost meditative focus, clutching the blade like it was a lifeline.
“As I told you before,” Death said, his tone colder now, more commanding, “this blade is a direct link to me. When he,” Death gestured to the meditating Primeval, “tasted its power before, it awoke something in him. A dormant, more powerful hunger for death. That hunger was necessary for this next step.” Death turned his gaze to me, unflinching. “I didn’t take the blade from you because it would alert the elders. No, I took it because you would have killed them all. Every single one. But you wouldn’t have been able to kill Hunger. Not as you were. Your human body couldn’t handle it. If you’d tried to use the blade, it would have destroyed both of you.” Death eyed me and my evil twin. “It would have obliterated any chance of returning here. And make no mistake… my power would have claimed you both.”
I tried to wrap my head around his words, but they only raised more questions. “But if I died, wouldn’t I just…” I gestured vaguely around me. “End up here?”
“No,” Death said sharply, cutting off my thoughts. His tone carried the finality of a closing door. “The blade channels my power. If it destroyed you both, you’d be gone. Gone to the next world, beyond my reach. That is why I took it… to ensure you would evolve… through your own death by lesser power.” He glanced back at Myoordrakien, his gaze unreadable. “Yes, you’ve become more monstrous. That’s the price of what you’ve gained… a vast reservoir of power to draw from. But that’s not the end. It’s a means to an end. The blade is your true weapon, forged from the first deal I ever made with him.”
He pointed to Myoordrakien, who remained still, his grip on the blade feverish but controlled. “He was the only one strong enough to wield it. No one else could. Our connection… our closely related purpose… is what allowed it. He craves death… and death I provide; my blade a conduit for my authority and power. Where others would fall to it… he thrives by it. But with you as the anchor, caging him in restriction, it caused swells in power as he grew… the cell no longer able to contain all of him. The urges grew, and as it did, he bled into you more and more, his essence clawing its way into your form, into your mind. That hunger that could only be satisfied by one thing… the blade.”
I swallowed hard, glancing at Myoordrakien. His monstrous features were gone now, replaced by something eerily calm… a reflection of me. “So that’s why I started looking more and more like…” My voice trailed off as I watched his familiar face.
“Exactly,” Death said with finality. “All part of the process. Now begins the next stage of your time under my charge. This will be the longest stretch. You’ll learn new strengths, and new skills… some from me, and some from him. Together, we will hunt those connected to the other Primevals and their true children. Their strength will dwarf anything you’ve faced before, even the elder who killed you in the pits.”
His words lingered in the air like the toll of a bell, heavy and impossible to ignore. This was only the beginning.
“The children of Hunger are formidable, scattered across the world in secret places. The weakest of them… the runt of the litter… remains close to its mother, burrowed deep within her dormant, governing power. He will be the first to fall when we return,” Myoordrakien growled, his voice laced with venomous malice. Revenge dripped from every word, his need to destroy, unmistakable.
Literally the longest string of words I’d ever heard from this entity.
Death, however, was less eager, his voice carrying a solemn weight as he issued a warning. "The strength of this blade is not to be underestimated. It demands care… understanding. Its power, left unchecked, spreads like wildfire, tearing through the physical world just as my presence would annihilate it. That’s why I cannot exist there without decimating life on a massive scale." He gestured to Myoordrakien, who sat across from us, his monstrous form eerily calm yet still vibrating with restrained intent to kill. "You need his strength, his urge for death, to consume and contain the blade’s power… to wield and control it. More of me strengthens him, and more of him strengthens you. The balance is delicate. Without it, this blade would destroy you."
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The blade gleamed faintly, light bending unnaturally around its mirrored surface. Death continued, "With this, you will learn. You’ll become a closer echo of my power, capable of wielding death as both a blunt weapon and a subtle scalpel. You’ll move through the world unseen, ending life with a whisper, sensing the delicate threads of balance in every soul. But this comes at a cost. His hunger… your hunger… will grow insatiable. His annihilation will be yours to command, but you’ll bear his curse: a constant, gnawing need to kill. You will have options… a choice to be a wraith in the world of darkness… or a beast of apocalyptic proportions. Whichever you choose for the tasks ahead…"
I sat there, overwhelmed, the enormity of his words clawing at my mind. My thoughts raced through fractured images of what he described, possibilities that twisted into nightmares. Eventually, one question formed in the chaos. "What about the visions? The names? Will I still receive them?"
Death nodded, his sunken visage of my own face betraying no emotion. "Your charges will come as they always have. When I require you to act, I will send them. That remains your primary purpose. However, the battles against the Primevals and their offspring are your most pressing concern right now.”
"So when I go back, what am I supposed to do? Kill them all? Take her heart? Or was that just another one of your half-truths?" I demanded, frustration sharpening my voice.
A ghostly smirk flickered across Death’s face, his amusement unsettling. "The only thing I need from you," he said, "is to find her heart chamber and end her life. You are strong enough now to gain entry… and to tear her from your world like the parasite she is. Those who carry her power will fall in time."
"By me? Through the visions?" I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle he laid out.
He gave a single nod, his silent confirmation both satisfying and maddening.
"We will rip as many of them from that world as possible," Myoordrakien growled, his eyes still closed, his grip on the blade agitatedly tight. His hunger bled into the air like a suffocating fog, his monstrous voice resonating with savage anticipation.
Then a sudden, piercing thought shot through my mind, cutting through my resolve. "What about Alex? She has a piece of Hunger inside her. It’s already changing her… letting her walk in daylight. She’s started transforming, growing some kind of armor or shell around her body. What happens to her?" My voice was tight, desperate for reassurance.
Death’s tone was steady, almost dismissive. "Her holding that power is of no great concern; at least, not yet. If she matters to you, she can relinquish it before the balance tips too far. That power was never meant to stay with one person indefinitely. None of the Primeval powers were meant to linger in the world as they have."
"So she’ll be okay? Killing Hunger won’t affect her?" I pressed, the fear tightening like a vice in my chest. My care and link to Alex showed even after a death so brutal, and uncertainty about her status. I wanted her to be okay.
"She will remain untouched," Death assured me. "But the day will come when that power must be released, to spread across the world as it was originally intended."
"Intended?" I echoed, suspicion flaring. There was more to this… so much more. I could feel the weight of the untold truths pressing down on me. This moment, sitting across from Death himself, was rare. And Myoordrakien, eerily calm for the first time, offered a unique chance to dig deeper into the mysteries of our twisted existence.
This was the singular moment when I had the full attention of the embodiment of Death and the Primeval of Annihilation bound to my soul. It might be the only time I could request answers… and I wasn’t about to waste it.
Myoordrakien’s black, abyssal eyes locked onto mine with a force that felt like being pinned under a collapsing stone. His voice carried the weight of ages, each word sharp with contempt and a hint of betrayal.
“All of my siblings chose treachery. Every single one. We were born with purpose, a cycle to complete. They fulfilled theirs… until they refused. Our power…every shred of it… was meant to pour into the world, a final task. And when it was over, I was to end them, then myself. A clean severance, a birthing stage for the earth. But no. They clung to their power, hoarding it like cowards. It never spread. It festered. Now your world rots under their refusal.”
Death, seated nearby, nodded, his pale face inscrutable. “The betrayal came fast. No warning. One moment, the alignment held; the next, chaos erupted. They knew what they were doing. They saw life budding and twisted it, dragging it out of balance. They fled, burrowed into worlds, dimensions, trenches of the great sea… anywhere to hide and guard what they had stolen. To hide from Annihilation.”
Myoordrakien’s voice grew darker, vibrating with rage. “Their theft turned your world into this... thing. An unnatural husk limping forward, forced to bear the weight of what should’ve been a pristine balance. I was supposed to kill them all and return their essence to the earth. But they ran. They betrayed me. They betrayed us!”
Death leaned forward, his voice a calm undercurrent against the storm. “The Primevals wove themselves into the fabric of existence. Undoing it without total collapse has taken patience. Millennia of pruning. You can’t simply hack away a diseased branch when it supports so much life that has grown around it. Precision is required. Caution is vital.”
Myoordrakien snarled, interrupting him. “Which brings us to Hunger, my treacherous sister. The lying, scheming bitch.”
His sudden outburst caught me off guard, the venom in his tone made me smirk. For a moment, this ancient monster sounded like someone venting about family drama. I couldn’t help but hold back a chuckle. Like a kid who had just learned his first curse word and looked for any chance to use it. But his expression, cold and unwavering, wiped it off my face in seconds.
“She told you lies,” he said, his voice deep, each syllable grinding like stone against stone. “She doesn’t want you to kill her elders to free her. She doesn’t need it. She’s playing you. If you extract her essence from them, if you return her power to her heart, it will do one thing: revive her. Fully. Completely. She will walk the world again.”
Death’s tone was colder now, final. “And that must never happen.”
I swallowed hard, images flashing in my mind. The visions, her whispered promises, the traps laid in her realm… it all fell into place.
“So… she lied to me,” I said, more to myself than them. “If I do what she wants, she’ll…”
“She’ll rise,” Myoordrakien confirmed, his voice thick with disgust. “She won’t be dormant anymore. She’ll take her place in the world again, but stronger, smarter. And we will have lost.”
Death’s fingers traced patterns in the air, his movements deliberate. “She’s been biding her time, using her children as pawns to weaken us. They planned to consume your predecessor… your counterpart who bore Myoordrakien’s power before you. Their hunger is unending, as is hers. She hides from remnant power of her eldest brother… knowing he could still be out there. She hides from me,” Death explained. “She senses my approaching doom and remains beneath the earth. She transferred her power to subordinates within her bloodline. Beast cursed with hunger; vampires, shapeshifters, werewolves, many things you have seen, and many you have not. She speaks to them. Guides them. That memory she gave you on your first arrival into the pits… It was partly true. Twisted and warped to manipulate you. To test what you were, and to lure you deeper toward her children’s hungry maw.”
“She wanted me dead,” I said quietly, the realization like ice in my veins. “The red light, the way it drained me… that was her?”
“Yes,” Myoordrakien hissed. “She tried to kill you the moment you entered her realm. She wanted you gone before I could return fully. She knew I would stop her. She tried to use you to regain her power… after her children have done to her… what she has done to me. They won't give it up easily.”
“They consumed your body,” Death explained, his voice unwavering. “But not your soul. Your soul is bound to him… Myoordrakien. It cannot be devoured. In her hunger, she unwittingly advanced our plans. We needed you to lose your body to move into the next stage of this role. But not just anything can kill you… as you well know. Your physical form was nothing compared to what you are becoming.”
Myoordrakien grinned, his teeth glinting like daggers. “But now, she believes I’ve been erased from this world. She thinks she’s won. She will grow bold, move to reclaim her power. It is time to strike.”
“And the elders?” I asked. “The ones holding her power?”
“They will fight,” Death said. “They will not give it up to her easily, just as she wouldn’t. But when the time comes, you will claim them… restoring their power to the balance… as it should be.
Myoordrakien leaned forward, his voice a low, predatory growl. “But make no mistake. She will die by our hands. She has no choice but to fall.”
"What about Abel?" I asked, my voice cutting through the suffocating tension between the three of us. "That old man wanted me to go down into the pits. He’s tied to something else… what is it? Who is he really?"
Death's reply was as cold and unyielding as the grave itself. “The old man is a consort of Chaos. He’s tied to many things, but Chaos is his true master. He has the taint of the Unseen on him as well… even Hunger has regarded him in ways. Primevals know him… a being that has drifted through the worlds and plains of existence in many forms. No matter what he has told you… what his alliances seem… he works for another Primeval.”
“Traitor… Coward… too scared to commit to one path! Keeps a foot in different doors… shifts allegiances.” Annihilation roared in between the tree stumps we sat upon. His Primeval anger burst out. “Chaos is a chameleon, blending in with the strongest… casting off knowledge and wisdom like sage advice only to move against his closest companions.”
I blinked, the words hitting me like a hammer. "Wait… this is Abel we’re talking about, right? The old black man? Super nice guy, seemed like he had nothing but good intentions… kind of. He wanted me to go down and tear that place apart…” Then it struck me like a blade to the gut. “Of course. He was part of her plans. Leading me right into her trap. A trap that would fail because of your interference…” I glanced toward Death, the resentment clawing at my voice. “But he didn’t know that… or did he? He was just playing both sides..."
Another pawn who would soon be choking on his own blood. I thought to myself… then I connected eyes with Primeval-me. He was thinking the same thing. Black eyes barreled into me again, teeth glinting in the light.
Myoordrakien nodded sharply, his grip tightening on the hilt of the blade he carried, his voice rough with venom. “Yes. Another minion of a Primeval… one you have not encountered before… another stain to scrub clean. We’ll kill them all.”
Death spoke up between our bloodlust, “A deal was made long ago with Chaos… one of the strongest Primevals. A deal he thinks he will win out in… but we know better,” Death looked upon Myoordrakien. They were plotting something… something I didn’t need to know yet. “That’s why he was talking with you, telling you to go down there. He is tied in with Hunger as well, and was a key player in actions of the Unseen… with Peter Grimwood.”
“Wait… what?” I asked. Rage seethed from my mind. I remembered his words. He said to take it easy on Patrick with everything going on. It confused me. It made me let things slide and step back in a way. He seemed like such a good character that I just believed him. That he could see things I couldn’t and knew the best paths forward. He was a liar.
Death and Myoordrakien answered with a nod and a single word together, “Chaos!”
My fists curled, trembling with barely contained fury. "So I can go down there and kill her? And it won’t destroy anything? The city won’t collapse, people won’t die? Tell me the truth." I needed to hear it. I needed to know this wasn’t going to end in innocent blood. I wanted to finish this so I could go murder Abel.
“No,” Death answered firmly, his voice unwavering. “Her body will remain a petrified husk in the caverns beneath the city. She will forever rest in the tomb she created for herself. But if we don’t kill her now, she’ll wake. She’ll absorb the power she’s removed from herself eventually, and this world will face destruction like it hasn’t seen since the age of the Primevals.”
"And Alex?" I muttered, the memory of her haunted expressions flashing through my mind. The subtle shifts, the moments of distance as if she wasn’t entirely present. “The longer she carries Hunger’s power, the more it’ll twist her, won’t it? Whisper to her, corrupt her.”
Death’s silence was enough of an answer. I didn’t need confirmation; I already knew. The dread that had been gnawing at the edges of my mind solidified into certainty. Hunger had already been speaking to Alex, weaving lies into her thoughts, poisoning her from within.
I rose to my feet abruptly, both Death and Myoordrakien stood as well, their movements sharp, deliberate. They watched me, their gazes heavy with expectation.
“You’ll learn,” Death said, as if reading the unease etched into my face. “Your new body will obey your will instinctively. Think of it as an upgrade. But a word of caution…” His tone dropped, a grave note lacing his words. “When you draw from my power, use it sparingly. It doesn’t just touch your enemies. It can reach further, into places you’d rather it didn’t. It can linger… touch those your attention was not meant for. A single misstep, and the consequences are permanent. Irreversible.”
The weight of his warning pressed down on me, suffocating and cold. It felt like holding a grenade, knowing the pin had already been pulled, and every second I delayed was a gamble.
Myoordrakien stepped closer, his monstrous features dripping with shadow and malice again. He returned the blade to Death, who held it pointed down, its tip hovering just above the ground. Together, they stood in a tight triangle with me, their eyes locking onto mine like a predator sizing up prey.
“All right,” I said, my voice low but steady, a storm brewing in my chest. “Let’s do this.”
Death lifted the blade, holding it aloft with an air of finality. Myoordrakien’s hand joined his, gripping lower on the hilt. They waited for me, their gazes unrelenting. I didn’t hesitate. My hand found its place on the handle, the highest point, and the instant I closed my fingers around it, the connection hit me like a thunderclap.
A surge of raw, murderous intent coursed through my veins, dark and electrifying. It was as if the three of us merged into one, our twisted forms folding into each other. They vanished into me, their power flooding my body and mind. The blade pulsed in my grip, and I knew… it was mine. No force on earth could take it from me now.
Lowering the weapon, I felt its weight settle into my hand like it belonged there. A natural extension of the fury and purpose burning inside me. Every muscle in my body coiled with readiness, the promise of violence simmering just beneath the surface.
This wasn’t just a mission. It was a reckoning. And I was more than ready to deliver it.
Then, like a thunderclap splitting the silence, Myoordrakien's voice echoed in my head, commanding with an edge of feral determination. “Move. Step between worlds, and we shall take my sister.”
I lifted my gaze toward the horizon, my eyes locking onto the figure waiting in the distance. The cloaked entity, Death himself… the Grim Reaper stood motionless, his presence an anchor in the shifting fabric of reality. This was not the pale Deathly version of me from before… no this was HIM! His hollow stare pierced through the void as if he could see beyond my flesh, straight into the volatile core of my being.
But when he spoke, it wasn’t the voice I had just been speaking with. It was the true voice. The voice that slithered into my thoughts in the quiet moments. The one that sent tremors through my very soul whenever it chose to make itself known.
This time, it wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t subtle. It was a command that reverberated through every layer of existence, shaking the plane we stood on like an earthquake splitting the world in two.
“Rise!”
The word tore through me, ripping apart the fragile balance of who I had been and who I was becoming. My feet felt rooted, yet the ground beneath me shuddered, warping and twisting as if reality itself was bending to his will. Power surged through me, raw and relentless, as if the very air was alive with the promise of carnage.
Death’s voice wasn’t a suggestion; it was inevitability. And as it resonated in the marrow of my bones, I knew there was no going back.