'It's horrible. Absolutely horrible.'

Damian's expression fell into unsettled fear and sadness. He had traveled far and wide, carefully following the glowing shard only to finally hit a dead end. Just beyond this hill, he felt it. His final destination was close, so close, and yet so far.

"What do we do, sir..?" Damian inquired in a faint and hopeless voice.

"..."

There was no response. At the prolonged stillness, alarm bells signaled within Damian:

'...Oh no…'

Throughout their journey, he had always taken the lead, guiding them through the unknown with the runic glass—always maintaining a forward pace while the magician tended to lag behind by a small margin. And now this distance had proven to leave Damian in a cold sweat as he realized he could not keep an eye on both the magician and beast simultaneously. And this small mistake had proven to be extraordinarily fatal:

*BOOM*

*TUMBLE*

All Damian could feel was pain, unimaginable and searing pain. The sand behind him was left scorched by a stream of fire aimed in his direction, originating from the magician. From behind, the magician had cast an explosive fire, sending him briefly flying before tumbling into hardened sand. No sound could leave his mouth as a furious burning sensation ate at his entire body. With half-open eyes, he glared ahead—noticing the beast now a few meters away and closing.

Although his entire body was getting cooked alive, he still barely managed to keep a fraction of himself conscious and aware. Stumbling weakly, Damian painfully brought himself into a sitting position—twisting his gaze onto the indifferent magician as fire scattered around him:

"...Why..?" Damian asked, his voice charred and grating.

"I had already mentioned earlier, this beast had been following you closely all this time. I imagine that throughout all of this chaos, you had been its original target. And with this in mind: I simply wish to avenge my fallen companions, and leave this dangerous place without interruption, disgusting creature." For the first time, Damian could hear the emotion in his voice. A voice subtly hinted with rage and sincerity.

"I don't know what you are cretin, but all you have done is bring grief and despair with your selfish antics. Now. Please perish." The magician spat.

Enraged at these ridiculous accusations, Damian furiously mumbles aloud:

"Yeah? Well, you think I care about your pathetic friends? They can all go to hell with you and me when that monster decides to kill us both, ya irrational bastard."

Even after throwing an impulsive rebuttal, however, Damian was unfortunately met with his wit's end.

While Damian had sincerely tried to live through this strange and treacherous madness, he couldn't help feeling a now inevitable and hopeless end. What can he even do now? Severely injured and stuck between two monsters, he had nowhere to go.

'I guess this is it. Gosh, this really sucks, I'm actually having my funeral in the middle of fucking nowhere.'

Opposite the magician, Damian heard heavy steps approach and stop in a deafening silence.

Twisting his perspective, the beast immediately met him face-to-face as it hunched over in a twisted and unnatural posture. Their eyes met, merely a breath apart. Gazing into its sunken and empty eyes, Damian returned the stare, feeling himself slowly go insane as each second passed. Now that Damian was at this distance, he began to notice something he hadn't seen before: A thin line carefully traced along the face of the beast; something akin to a mouth. And before his eyes, that thin line split open, unhinging viciously. Bizarre crackling and breathing erupted from its broken and split mouth, presenting its innards before him.

In complete shock and fear, Damian's breathing quickened as he violently trembled before the harrowing creature. Unable to look away, he gazed down the mouth of the abhorrent black beast. From inside, numerous runic markings littered the mouth. And even further, a black pit slithered inside—something alive sat deep within the horrid monstrosity. The longer he gazed into its unhinged and open mouth, the more he felt himself sinking into a bottomless abyss, unable to escape. His vision was gradually enveloped in blurry darkness as a cacophony of whispers slowly emerged, growing louder as he fell into the dark. The whispering cadence continued in a forceful and unnerving crescendo of staggering white noise before a vague yet distinct voice chimed clearly—a near similar experience to that of the broken statue.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

~Hello again.~

A vulgar finger snap blared aloud, followed by a strained ringing in Damian's ears; warping himself back to reality as if reversing time itself. The force sent Damian gasping and falling forward, blood flowing from his mouth—seeping out of the mask and staining the gray sand.

The sound of heavy footsteps brushed past his collapsed body in the direction of the magician, leaving immense confusion in the atmosphere.

The magician furrowed his brow at the strange development:

"...What did you do."

As the black beast approached the magician, it closed its mouth in revolting motions. Frowning, he took a small step back—many questions circled through his mind. His indifferent voice resonated with dull curiosity:

"Had this thing actually been around to protect you? Then why did it let my actions go unpunished before this?"

The magician could not comprehend such a bizarre situation. A resigned sigh escaped his lips, regret lingering on his face:

"Life truly is so cruel."

Igniting his hands in brilliant crimson flames, he prepared without the slightest intimidation. The beast shook the corpse hanging by its claws, tossing the huntress behind it mercilessly in response. The corpse fell, landing within Damian's line of sight; grabbing his numb attention:

Assisted by flames gathering in the sand, he spotted the corpse and the blood-soaked moss that adorned her armor—ruthlessly torn to pieces in battle. From the huntress' neck, however, reflected a beautiful necklace decorated with a striking crescent moon emblem.

Squinting, Damian's eyes couldn't help but gravitate toward the crescent—feeling a vague familiarity as he had with the emblem of the sun:

'...Moon. Sun and moon. Again, where have I seen these things? Ah who cares, I don't have time for this!'

With little time, Damian acted quickly; immediately crawling to the runic glass resting on the sand nearby. In the pain and chaos of it all, he could only think to do one thing:

'It doesn't matter what happens, I have to follow the light.'

After straining through excruciating pain in an attempt to find his balance, he staggered away from the battle as swiftly as possible. In a matter of seconds, Damian reached the top of the sandhill before gazing ahead of the grey dune, staggering backward in surprise:

From atop the dune, a steep drop into a colossal and vast crater nearly brought him falling in the opposite direction. The size felt incomprehensible and confusing—leaving Damian with endless questions.

'W-What…what could have possibly done this?'

However, these morbid curiosities could not be entertained as an ear-shattering explosion concussed him, sending his body falling off the cliff. Shortly after, a sea of breath-taking flames ignited as an eruption of fire scattered past where he had originally been standing, atop the dune summit.

Crashing and rolling down the deeply sloped sandstone sent him reeling in continuous agony. His tumbling fall felt eternal as the suffering increased with each impact—sending his mind literally spinning, disorienting him even further. Mercifully, however, the ground eventually sloped into a more level surface—slowing his descent drastically before ultimately coming to a stop.

In this moment of peace, his body burnt and bruised—Damian curled his body into the fetal position, reeling in hopeless torment. There was no snarky thought or comment this time around—only a weak rhythm of his gasping breaths could be heard.

'…I…I have to get up…I'm almost…there..just a little bit longer.'

After a short and dire rest, Damian carefully sat himself up. With dead eyes, he mindlessly limped forward—recovering the glass for a second time. At the bottom of the crater, the land was empty and scarred. Mass amounts of enormous fissures, holes, and lacerations marred the land. But Damian did not give these incredible sights the time of day nor did he care for the constant shaking and deafening noise of the battle above. All but a small light occupied Damian's mind.

At a weak and desperate pace, he traveled across the crater. His entire body screamed, demanding him to stop, but this did not affect him. With each second, he got closer and closer—finally nearing the center.

And it was at the center, that he carefully stopped before his ending destination. It was a skeleton. A skeleton of enormous size and absolute dread. The entirety of its body lay mostly infused with sandstone, leaving only certain portions of the skull and ribs presented.

Damian dwarfed in comparison to the ancient being, simply staring upwards from within the numerous ribs that surrounded him. Its skull lay ahead, horribly cracked. Tall horns and vast needle-like teeth presented themselves while its oppressing hollow eyes forced Damian to look away.

He couldn't move. He didn't wanna move. Presented before the ancient dead horror, an immense feeling of dread paralyzed his body. His entire mind and body felt like it was being torn to pieces simply from standing near it. He couldn't help but feel like he had done something indescribably horrible. The skull felt sacred and other-worldly—some sort of pressure emitted from the skeleton, causing Damian to nearly lose consciousness multiple times.

Bowing before the dreadful skull, he attentively placed the glass onto the stone sand. Sat before the cosmic horror, Damian felt his brain crumbling, but strangely enough, his actions felt clear—he knew exactly what to do:

"..I-I…the glass is yours…p-please..send me home…"

In an instant, the noise around him ceased, silence drowning out the battle behind him. The world around him slowly began to melt away as he awed the sight—trying to piece together what was happening. And before long, from the voice within, ever-present and always watching—does it finally chime, relieving Damian of his struggles:

-Well done. Now off with you.-