Poho, the boy whose dreams soared beyond the confines of this nightmarish existence, scanned the encampment with a heavy heart.

Morning's light revealed the desolate shores of this land, casting a harsh glare upon the gathered slaves who remained behind.

As most of those who had toiled here the previous day hurriedly departed, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and relief, the ones left behind cast their gaze upon the relentless sea with trepidation.

The dwindling group of forsaken slaves moved with cautious determination, forming somber lines that snaked toward the unforgiving ocean, and the few old rustic boats that floated along the shores.

They shared a silent understanding of their impending doom, but defiance simmered beneath the surface.

The unforgiving sea stretched before them, a tempestuous expanse that mirrored the turbulence within the souls of those who faced it.

As they set out, paranoia clung to them like a shadow, whispering of unseen terrors lurking beneath the surface

With every crashing wave, they strained to discern shapes moving in the depths below. Their eyes played tricks on them, conjuring phantom horrors that sent shivers down their spines.

Was it an errant fish, a trick of the mind, or something more sinister?

Poho, like the others, gazed into the churning waters, trying to shake off the unease that gripped him.

His hands worked tirelessly, casting and reeling, each motion felt like an act of defiance against the cruel world that had condemned them.

But the sea, unpredictable and merciless, showed no mercy.

As the hours passed, Poho noticed a subtle shift in the water's temperament.

It grew increasingly restless, as if the very sea itself had taken offence at their intrusion.

The waves swelled higher, crashing with greater force against their frail boats. Poho squinted, his heart pounding. He thought he saw movement beneath the surface, a shadow darting among the undulating waves.

Panic surged through him, but he tried to dismiss it as a mere trick of the light.

The uneasy murmurs of his fellow slaves resonated in the air. They, too, had noticed the change in the sea, and their voices quivered with dread. A shared sense of foreboding hung over them like a shroud.

As Poho continued to fish, his anxiety intensified.

The water grew rougher with each passing moment, and the shadows beneath the surface seemed to multiply. His hands trembled as he worked the line, struggling to maintain his composure.

Then, without warning, it happened. The boat lurched violently, sending Poho sprawling into the tumultuous sea.

He gasped as saltwater filled his mouth, choking him. Panic surged through him, and he fought to stay afloat.

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Something powerful had seized him from below, pulling him down into the inky depths.

His vision blurred, darkness encroaching as the relentless force tugged him further into the abyss. Desperation clawed at his chest as he realised he was in the clutches of an unknown menace.

In his final moments of consciousness, as the world above faded away, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the end of his journey.

As Poho’s very being became shrouded in the darkness of the salty waters, he felt a pull on his soul.

He felt as if he was elsewhere, the tug he felt had pulled him out of the ocean he was drowning in, even though he had already accepted his fate.

But til the very end all he had on his mind was the extreme ire he felt towards Terboruk, not once was he afraid of his impending death, nor was he afraid of what pain he might feel as he fell to the bottom of the ocean.

To the end his head was filled with thoughts of revenge.

As he was pulled back to life, he opened his eyes, his expression reflecting the rage he had felt as he was dying.

Around him was nothing but darkness, he was floating in the middle of this void he was pulled into, as if he was in water.

He looked around trying to recognize something in his surroundings, but as time passed the void remained motionless, then,

'WAKE, MY KEY' a loud, almost incomprehensible voice boomed into his ears, Poho understood the words but felt as if he shouldn't have, he turned around and was stunned by what he saw.

A massive eye, as far as his eye could see in the pure void surrounding him, he assumed this was just one eye of a giant being but he couldn't see the rest of it, as if what he was currently seeing was all his mind would allow.

He knew if he saw anymore he would go insane, something about this eye felt as if it didn't belong to the world, as if it existed outside of reality.

The Iris of the eye was a deep scarlet, and the never-ending sclera was a pure white, free from any impurities, but it felt as if the eye was impurity itself.

While giving off a terrible feeling of wrongness, the eye grabbed Poho’s attention entirely.

He was hypnotised by it, its appearance almost divine, in spite of the ugliness the being exuded beneath it’s beauty.

This was something no one should ever see, yet Poho was here.

A voice once again boomed in Poho’s head,

"I am the 'drn na'ah'ehye mgng ah nafl, I Ah'legeth lloig, Ymg' ahornah ahuaaah ya r'luh, Mgng Y' ephaiah ymg' ahuaaah."

This time Poho understood next to nothing, the deep guttural sounds of the voice made him feel sick.

He tried to decipher any sort of meaning or emotion behind the words but as he tried his very soul began to ache.

Despite this, he felt as if the being was extending a hand towards his soul, as if it felt his desire for revenge, and it shared a desire for revenge.

Poho began to feel a connection to the being, as if it was offering him help.

His mind, despite the horrifyingly beautiful sight before him had never forgotten his deep feelings of hatred towards his master and all of Terboruk.

The extension of this being began to almost mould his desire for revenge into something more sinister, however Poho did not care, his only care was acquiring power for revenge.

As he posed no resistance to the being, it seamlessly merged with him, an impure energy instantaneously entered into his chest where his soul core was and he felt an indescribable feeling wash over him, snapping him back to reality.

He opened his eyes again, this time he was floating underwater, but he wasn’t surrounded by a void, instead he was just a few metres away from the surface of the water.

He approached the surface as he glanced below him, seeing complete darkness apart from glimpses of movement.

As he neared the surface, he noticed he had no need for oxygen, as he was breathing underwater but he had no idea how.

His memory of what had happened before his eyes opened was drifting and incredibly limited, however he knew he had gained some form of strength and his desire for revenge had grew even more.

On top of that he automatically knew his slave mark had been removed, his connection with himself had grown and he could sense every little intricacy within his body and soul.

He felt deeper and approached his source core, as he did he felt the same feeling of impurity he felt from the eye, in the place of his source core was a void, emptiness that went on endlessly.

He made contact with it and from within the eye opened and stared back at him.

The gaze of this being felt otherworldly, and he felt scared as it stared back at him.

Within him a feeling of foreboding began to develop, before it started to seamlessly disappear as it was overshadowed by his desire for revenge.

A frown developed on his face as he finally broke through the waters surface, looking around at his location.

He was a few tens of metres away from the shore, and as he saw this his arms began pushing him closer to the shore, the speed at which he swam breaking the expectations of what his malnourished body should be capable of.

He spent a minute swimming the shore, and as he did he looked around.

The shore was still littered with the rags of slaves, some of the bodies he previously noted were still there.

But apart from the rags and lifeless bodies littering the ground, there was absolutely nothing in sight.

Poho looked down before gritting his teeth, his seemingly nonexistent muscles seeming to bulge grotesquely alongside his anger.

As his anger grew a black aura seemed to ooze out of him, though it was just an aura, it seemed to have a gooey property, as if leaking out of him as liquid would.

The black aura began to ooze out more and more, encompassing the whole beach and as the extension slowed down, coming to a halt, Poho screamed in anger, and when the air in his lungs had run out the aura oozed back into him.

He took a deep breath, looked in a direction and stormed off.