Moments ago , ''nut house''.

Countless limbs and human flesh scatters the ground like unwanted trash , their blood paints the floor like the vomit of the titans.

Most people here are brutally pierced to pieces for the cultist to fulfill their insane wishes-to evocate their ''god''.

More and more men in black or brown blood stained coats that stretch to their foot walks inside this man made hell.

''Brother , is your part done?''

“...We lost one in the Blue Box.”

“Sacrifice must be made…”

''Today , we shall ascend''

A man in white hood slowly blends in with the cultits at the edge of the room.

————————————————————————————————-

Right now , ''blue box''.

Suiming snaps his finger , maybe to distract himself from the battle that just ended , maybe to unsummon the constellations.

But that's not his focus at all , his mind is taken over by one thing - to find Acryl , if lucky , find Nameless.

The balisong flips around Suimings’ fingers and closes its limb-like handle that covers up the blade.

He jumps on the corpse of that creature while covering his nose up.

''Gerinomo'' Suiming says as he jumps off.

He walks in a non urgent speed and inspects every corner carefully , like he is looking for treasure.

''Nope , only dead peoples.''

''Wait , where is Neon?'' He asks himself.

Suiming's step went shorter and shorter , until he started to run.

Suiming holds the same eyeballed lantern , that is his personal favorite constellation - guiding light , if he didn't choose to travel this empty land , he'll probably stay in the academy or in the observatory.

The eye-candle guides him to the machine parasite corridor where an armed man is swinging his blade at Neon.

Ironically , Suiming attempted to save Neon , but unintentionally put her in another danger.

No time to think , dark clouds surround his right arm , forming a smothering black paper folded bird.

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The darkness deflects the man’s blade , giving a brief moment that lets Neon escape.

His sword trembling , rage and fury rises up to his head , like it's going to devour him whole.

The man swings his blade at Suiming , the sound of metal crushing explodes.

Suiming's balisong holds the blade in an impossible way while his other arm slams his lantern onto the man's head.

The moment the lantern collides with his head , Suiming's mind almost stops as the brown coat burns in a black eerie flame that does not belong to this world.

The man's body quickly expands into a hideous content with tentacles stretching out of every corner , foul , slimy liquids and the absolutely disgusting smell that came out of nowhere accompanied the dark flame.

The eyeball of his wobbles around like a ball inside a glass.

''To…d-d…day.. I shall…a..cen…d'' Says the man while his face stretches unnaturally.

The man’s limbs were cold and hard as a marionette , before he gets familiar with its new form , Suiming grabs Neon's arm and pulls her into the unworldly purple scar.

''Quick , this should get you to the door of blue box , find the messengers and get them here.''

''What about you then?'' Neon asks while taking breath.

''Don’t worry about me.''

Neon's gone away , Suiming summons countless star-like white dots that illuminates the unnamed horror and himself.

Some dots were connected with something similar to strings on a harp.

Within a few seconds , the constellations connect and form something Neon is familiar with.

A dragon.

The dragons stone hard scales and the claw that can easily separate metal cuts off the flesh off the expanding man , the separated tentacles still worms on the ground. Then ship parts that are like broken bones of the fleet crashes down to the man.

Out of nowhere , the silver white dragon fades to nothing , so are the other white floating dots. Suiming , quickly lets the star return to where they were , he has a feeling , a bad one.

He knows that no constellation can help him this time.

The new grown flesh starts to rot , not just rotten on the outside , but also the inside , wait , it is not rotten , it , it…has grown , grown to something…something higher.

Swimming feels the unworldly stare , his head trembling , madness dancing on top of his mind , the last part of his sanity trying to un-accept the reality of the existence of ''that''.

He sees ''that'' , the thing…no….the things ''that'' is also seeing him. The one above all living. The Mother in the mouth of cultists.

Suiming’s dagger damages the timespace with one more time.

The purple scar did not appear , like a scared little child.

————————————————————————————————

Meanwhile , in a distant place between worlds and worlds.

Emptiness , no color , no life and not a single ray of light, only an endless flow of white that resembles a river accompanied the dark.

But Fosfor has been here for thousands of years , she calls this place— River of abyss.

Of course over that long time she has found something to do here , most of the time - Barricade of death stuff.

Being a Barricade isn’t an easy task , in Fosfor’s case , she has to collect consciousness of dead ones and wash them in the ''river''.

If someone thought that she would patiently collect consciousness by herself , they’d be dead wrong , she made uncountable weaker copies of herself to do the job for her.

And herself?

She’s just sitting here , staring blankly at the darkness.

''Welp , there goes another dead copy of mine''

''Hey, are you listening behind that wall , no? Never mind then.''

There are no walls , only a table that might break at any time and a plastic chair , which she can’t remember where it came from.

Behind Fosfor a small silver branch roots in the dark.