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Chapter 3 - Death, Awakening, Resolve

Almost instantly, the ground vanished, and gravity seized hold of his fragile form. A kaleidoscope of sensations pounced on Kyrios' senses during his rapid fall. The rush of wind whipped against his face, intertwining with the echoes of his racing heartbeat. The world blurred into a dizzying spectacle with a whirlwind of colors and shapes merging into an otherworldly tapestry. Panic flooded his veins as he hurtled downward; time distorted, stretching into an eternal moment of terror. Here, he was a mere speck swallowed by the jaws of the unfathomable abyss.

But then, as if the world granted him a reprieve, his fall came to a jarring halt. He crashed onto a soft surface beneath him, cushioning the impact. Still, pain flared through his body like a raging inferno, forcing a strangled groan out of his lips. His consciousness teetered on the ridge, and only his mind prevented him from plunging into oblivion. Dazed and disoriented, Kyrios struggled to regain his bearings. His eyelids fluttered, heavy as gold, as he looked around. His nose cringed at the grave, acrid scent, tinged with the unmistakable touch of decay. Above him, an ethereal glow cast a surreal illumination, filtering through the layers of darkness that shrouded the ground he crashed on. Every movement was agony like his body had become a battlefield of throbbing aches and lingering bruises. Well, it probably already has. He could only lay there, still and broken, between the realm of dreams and the harsh reality that now had him.

It was a testament to Kyrios' sheer will that he remained conscious, albeit barely so.

And through the haze of pain, he noticed an odd sight. The soft surface that had broken his fall seemed alive. It pulsated with a faint glow.

"What was that?" It cradled him, offering an unexpected break from his thoughts. However, he soon realized that something unsettling lurked in this enigmatic realm as his weakened senses attempted to make sense of it.

Lying there, utterly vulnerable, an eerie stillness settled over him. The air grew heavy as if the fabric of the abyss held its breath. And then, from the shadows, emerged a colossal plant with tendrils creeping along the pulsating surface. Kyrios watched as the plant's luminescence intensified, releasing an eerie glow across its sinuous appendages. It seemed to pulse with a life force of a sinister vitality.

Before Kyrios could react, the plant's tendrils snaked towards him in an instant, entwining around his battered body. Panic swelled through his blood as he realized the true nature of this alluring trap: once a semblance of refuge, the plant now revealed its insidious purpose.

Its grip tightened, constricting his movements, while a searing pain blazed through him, stabbing him like knives.

"Guhh... Ahh! Shit! It hurts! Arrhh!! It hurts... so, so much!!"

He struggled to breathe, gasping for air as the tendrils coiled tighter around his body. The plant's touch was initially gentle but quickly turned voracious as if it fed on his essence. Darkness closed in, a suffocating embrace that stifled his cries for help.

In this weakened state, there was no escape, no hope for reprieve. All he could do was to endure the torment as his strength dwindled. His head spun with delirium as he drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness. The world seemed to be falling apart around him, consumed by the hell that raged within. And in the end, Kyrios lost himself to the pain. He welcomed it with open arms as if the Rift had become his final resting place. It wasn't too bad dying like this. He wouldn't be a nuisance ever again. His village would be saved, and he would be hailed as a hero who sacrificed himself.

Amidst the agony, he felt the plant's insidious presence weaving through his veins. Its tendrils burrowed deeper into his body and hungered for his life force. It seeked to merge with him in grotesque assimilation. But as the plant's invasion intensified, a strange and unexpected sensation coursed through him—a mingling of his own disease, his affliction. It intermingled with the voracious nature of the plant.

Amid the chaotic struggle, a strange transference began to unfold. It was as if his once-heavy illness was now finding a new host within the plant. A ripple of energy surged through his body, tinged with a strange relief. The plant writhed in response, its once vibrant luminescence faltering like it could not bear the weight of the disease it now carried, and a flicker of hope ignited within him.

Kyrios clung to that sliver of consciousness, his senses attuned to the conflict unfolding within and around him. Drakewood's disease… Was it killing the plant?

Its tendrils now quivered with a weakened grip. It fought against the disease's encroachment, battling for dominance in a struggle for survival. And in this surreal dance, Kyrios became a vessel, a conduit for this inexplicable exchange. The despair abounded, but so did a glimmer of defiance. And with each moment, he witnessed the gradual decline of the plant's vitality, the ebbing of its once overwhelming power. As its grip weakened, so too did Kyrios' pain.

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Time blurred, distorted by the intensity of the battle raging between them, yet, in this feverish haze, Kyrios clung to the remnants of his identity—the flickering light of consciousness. He was no longer a victim but a participant in this strange symbiosis, witnessing the convergence of his disease and the plant's malevolence.

Eventually, a sliver of clarity pierced through the fog of war. It dawned on him that this realm of the abyss held secrets far beyond his understanding, where even the more dire circumstances could twist into unexpected avenues of salvation.

That's right. That's what they were talking about. Theo and the others. Beneath the soil of humanity, far beyond the eyes of mankind, lurked the fearsome land of void. An abyss, screaming into reality where an endless chasm gorged on anything that fell into its dark clutches—The Rift.

"Ahh. I'm dead."

- [ Notice ] -

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Kyrios E. Lamina

[ Level ] - 1

[ Class ] - None

[ Species ] - Whisperleaf (Human Host)

Stats:

— Vitality: 10

— Might: 10

— Sorcery: 10

— Aegis: 10

— Swiftness: 10

— Unlock Elite Stats at level 30

Skills:

— Whisperleaf Metamorphosis: Lvl. 1

— Drakewood's Disease: Lvl. 1

"I have died?"

Those words rang in his ears like the tolling of a bell. He never fought or killed anything, so he wasn't used to hearing the system. But he was sure that he had hit level three at one point; what was the meaning of this?

He never had any skills, either. How did he acquire those skills? Drakewood's disease? He thought that was a curse, yet now it shows up as his skill?

"Wait, what even happened? And what was this new species listed next to my name?"

Whisperleaf with a human host, it read, but he had always considered himself a plain human. Questions flooded his mind like a torrent of uncertainty, almost consuming his thoughts.

"Ah..."

A breathy sigh escaped his lips as he sat up, clutching his head in his hands. His surroundings swirled, but he shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, I'm fine. I'm completely fine," Kyrios muttered to himself, staring around at his new surroundings. "What the hell...?"

It was dim, with some illumination coming from a series of faintly glowing stones embedded in the walls. A somewhat ethereal glow, he thought.

Kyrios glanced around, noticing that the sides were covered with some kind of moss amid the enormous sinkhole. It pulsed with a faint violet hue, casting an odd light upon the stone cave walls. And as for people, there was no one else in sight. No monsters, either. Nor the corpses of people.

Still, he remained cautious, crawling along the moss-covered floor. His shaking fingers brushed against the dry vegetation as he sought to gather any information about this unfamiliar realm. The air felt heavy with an otherworldly presence, and the silence was deafening.

As he crawled forward, he couldn't help but notice a subtle shift in his legs. It was as if a weight had been lifted, and an inexplicable lightness now shot through his limbs. He paused and glanced down, disbelief hoofing in his eyes.

"Is this... real?" He murmured. Awe laced his words. Hesitant at first, Kyrios extended his legs and pushed himself upward, bracing himself against the wall as he took a step. "I-I'm standing! I'm actually standing!"

The realization hit him like a wave crashing upon the shore—he could walk; he could walk on his own feet! Each step was surreal. He had somehow surpassed the limits that had bound him for so long.

Kyrios stood there for a while, just looking down at his feet and savoring this freedom. He could feel the ground beneath him, firm and stable. The soles of his feet pressed against the earth as he slowly wandered around the area. His vision blurred from the little tear that suddenly formed in his eye. He couldn't help but cry a little.

But this elation was short-lived. As he continued to wander, a deep rumbling shook the foundation beneath his feet, its quake rising up through the walls. The ground quivered, causing him to stumble and lose his balance. Startled, he turned his gaze toward the gaping hole from which he had emerged moments ago.

The edges of the abyss, the maw of the Rift itself, were closing in on each other. The once expansive opening that had allowed him passage into this strange world was now shrinking rapidly as if the Rift itself was reclaiming its territory.

His heart raced, and a tide of panic coursed through his body. He realized the implications of this development. If the Rift sealed shut, then he would be trapped in this forsaken realm forever, cut off from everything he had and will ever know. Desperation fueled his movements as he attempted to sprint toward the diminishing hole. And as expected, his legs struggled with his newfound agility. The ground trembled beneath him, toppling his balance along his already unsteady movements. The gap narrowed further, taunting him with the threat of eternal confinement. Time seemed to slow down once again as he reached for the walls, lunging forward with every ounce of strength left within. His fingers scraped against the rough surface of the closing abyss walls, the fleeting hope of escape slipping through his grasp.

The Rift's mouth closed with a thunderous finality, sealing him off from the world above. He was trapped, left to face the unknown depths of this enigmatic realm.

"Got damn it!" Kyrios groaned as the quake shook him off the wall.

There was no way of him making it out, even if he had a proper sprinting technique, let alone enough strength. It was a miracle alone that his body remembered how to run.

As he lay there, staring up at the sealed barrier above, apprehension stirred. He knew that his life had taken an unforeseen turn, but he refused to succumb to despair. He never saw himself as a pessimist after all. A realist or an optimist, he had told himself.

"I'm not going to die here!" he swore, climbing back onto his feet. With a deep breath, he wiped away the tears that stained his cheeks and stared quietly for a moment. And with another breath, he sighed. 'For the first time in my life, I felt grateful to be disabled.'

The closed Rift had become both his prison and his catalyst for transformation, and he vowed to make the most of this unforeseen twist of fate. And so, with a flicker of grit in his eyes, he ventured forth into the unknown, ready to confront the secrets in this secluded abyss, cut off from the world above.