A few minutes later, I looked around, my hunger abated. For the moment, at least. The wolves were gone, nothing left but bones gleaming eerily in the moonlight. My hands were stained, my clothes soaked. The slick, sticky feel of blood clung to my skin, and the sour, coppery stench filled my nose. Horror washed over me as the realization of what I'd done settled in like a stone in my chest.

I stumbled backward, bile rising in my throat, my stomach churning. "What have I become?" I whispered, wiping at the blood smeared across my mouth with a trembling hand. It felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to me—like I didn’t belong to me.

I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t look at the scene for another second. The bones, the blood, the moonlight—all of it seemed to mock me. I needed to move, to get away from this grotesque display of carnage and the monstrosity I’d unleashed. My own hands. My own teeth.

I turned away and stumbled forward, my legs trembling under the weight of my actions. Each step was a struggle. The forest seemed to recoil from me, the branches scratching at my skin like accusing fingers. Every rustle of leaves felt like a whisper of judgment. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, shivering despite the heat rising from my body.

The desert keyhole. I had to get to the desert keyhole. I needed to be away from this cursed place. The weight of the god’s boon—or was it a curse?—pressed on my soul like an iron hand gripping my chest. The hunger inside me had quieted, but I knew it was lurking just beneath the surface, waiting. Waiting for more.

I wiped my mouth again, as if that could erase what I'd done. "Damn it," I cursed under my breath. How could this happen? A god—one I’d never even heard of—had both cursed and blessed me. Boons were dangerous. The Book of Blood warned of them. I’d always stayed away from such things. Always.

And yet here I was. Cursed. Blessed. Ruined.

Malikap’s followers spoke of their power, of their minions and increased strength, but I’d always shuddered at the price—their classes deteriorated their bodies until death claimed them. Aurentum’s Death Market took all of your gold in exchange for a glimpse of forbidden knowledge, and Rellum’s Aelyntiums... absorbing everything in a room like some endless black hole. Power, yes. But at what cost?

I shuddered, the night air chilling the sweat on my skin. I didn’t even know this god’s name, yet here I was, bound by her boon and its dreadful hunger.

My stomach knotted painfully, reminding me of the wolves I had devoured. I shook my head, trying to clear the memories of fur, blood, and bone cracking between my teeth. The taste lingered, thick and metallic in my mouth. A pang of hunger twisted my gut again, sharp and gnawing, but muted now—only just.

Still, I could run. My legs carried me at full speed, powered by something far beyond normal stamina. My steps barely faltered, though the constant ache in my stomach stabbed at me with every stride. I crested the hill and stumbled, the sudden shift in terrain sending me tumbling. My body hit the ground in a poof of gritty sand, knocking the breath from my lungs.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

For a second, I lay there, stunned. The sand was cold, rough against my skin as I dug my fingers into it, trying to ground myself. It stuck to my damp clothes, clung to the blood smeared on my skin, gritty and irritating, like a reminder of what I had become. The mist rolled over me, its cool embrace pushing me deeper into the sand as though the very desert wanted to swallow me whole.

I sat up quickly, panic flooding my veins. Had someone heard that? I crouched low, scanning the vast emptiness around me. Silence. Just me, the sand, and the endless sky above. I exhaled sharply, flopping back into the cool sand, my heart pounding in my chest.

For now, I was safe.

But I couldn’t linger here. Not like this.

I pulled the Book of Blood from my bag, its weight familiar in my hands. I had to know. Who was this god who had laid such a curse on me? My fingers traced the worn leather cover before flipping to the section on the Pantheon of Equiem. The names were the same, as they had always been: Malikap, Rellum, Aurentum. No fourth god. No answers.

But then, there it was—a cryptic paragraph scholars had long puzzled over.

"Penance has been around for thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of years. In that time, three people have claimed to escape its confines, and yet they always return. That’s the grand question. Why would a god return to a prison, voluntarily? Why would anyone return when unlimited power and a second shot at life remained? What more is there to Penance that the very gods themselves heed its siren call?"

My heart raced as I read the words again, the implications sinking in. This place—it was more than just a prison. There were secrets here, buried beneath the surface. Secrets the gods themselves couldn’t resist.

Was that it, then? Had I somehow found a forgotten god, one who operated outside the known Pantheon? The very thought made my blood run cold. A shiver ran down my spine as I closed the book, uncertain and afraid of what that meant for me.

I needed answers, but they weren’t here.

As I rose to my feet, I whispered to Malice, "Increase your light." His familiar glow brightened around me, casting eerie shadows on the sand. I needed to get back to my original spawn point. Maybe, just maybe, there would be some clue there.

The cold sand crunched beneath my boots as I made my way toward the mountain. The air seemed to thicken as I neared the door, the oppressive silence settling over me like a weight. Even the wind had stilled. The desert was a tomb, and I was its lone occupant. I glanced back at the empty sand, half expecting it to rise and devour me like some ancient beast waiting for its next meal.

There, in the side of the rock, was a door. A door I didn’t remember seeing before. My heart quickened.

A key was already in my hand, though I couldn’t remember pulling it out. The metal was warm against my palm as I slid it into the lock, hearing the soft click of the mechanism turning. My breath caught in my throat as the door creaked open, revealing a set of stairs leading upward.

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my ears, the weight of the unknown pressing down on me like an iron chain. What was this? Why had the key appeared in my hand? Was this part of the god’s curse—its boon—or something more? I could feel the curse stirring, deep within my chest, as if the god itself was urging me forward.

But forward where? To more power? Or to ruin?

The key still felt heavy, as if it had its own will, pulling me closer to the door. I swallowed hard, my fingers curling around the handle. Every fiber of my being screamed to stop, to turn back, but the door beckoned. The god’s curse thrummed inside me, restless, hungry.

Malice pulsed at my side, a rhythmic glow that felt almost… hesitant. I frowned, my fingers brushing the cool surface of its core. "What is it?" I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I expected an answer. The light flickered, dimming momentarily, as if in warning.

I tightened my grip. Whatever lay beyond that door, I wasn’t ready.

But I had to go.

[Now entering the Library of Infinite Worlds.]