Chapter 1 Awakening in the Abyss

An elderly man stood at the front door of an apartment, knocking persistently. His patience was wearing thin after twenty minutes of waiting, but he didn't stop. "Hey! Hey! Your rent is due! It's been two weeks—when will you start paying?" His voice carried the frustration of a landlord chasing down a delinquent tenant. "I know you're in there!" he shouted, but the silence from within was deafening.

The tenant hadn't paid his rent in over a week, and he hadn’t been seen outside his apartment during that time. The landlord's brow furrowed. How can someone not leave their house for a week? He thought, a cold shiver running down his spine. The quiet only deepened his anxiety.

After a few more moments of fruitless knocking, the landlord’s frustration reached its peak. "I can’t believe it’s come to this," he muttered, reaching into his coat pocket for the spare key. He had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling any longer.

With a click, the door swung open, and a cloud of flies immediately poured out, followed by a heavy, putrid odor—the unmistakable scent of decay.

The landlord staggered back, choking on the foul air. "Wha... what is happening?! URK!" His stomach lurched, and he barely had time to cover his mouth before he vomited, his body trembling in shock. His gaze fell to the sight that made his blood run cold: the tenant's lifeless body, hanging from the ceiling.

Still in disbelief, he fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed the police. "Hello? My tenant... he's dead," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, thick with horror.

When the investigators arrived, they were met by a strong, overwhelming stench. Disheveled clothing and piles of refuse littered the apartment, the chaos of neglect adding to the grim atmosphere. After a thorough examination, one of the officers spoke up. "No signs of foul play," he muttered, surveying the scene with a professional detachment. "This was a suicide."

Another officer, softer in tone, added, “We can only hope that whatever pain he endured has come to an end.”

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Meanwhile, elsewhere…

The man awoke with a sharp jolt, his body stiff and his mind swimming in a haze. His eyes fluttered open, but the world around him spun as if it were on a strange, unsteady tilt. He felt a familiar voice calling to him—someone he should know—but it was just out of reach. The more he tried to latch onto it, the more elusive it became. What… happened? His thoughts scattered like broken glass, fragments of memory slipping through his fingers. The pounding ache in his skull only made everything worse.

“Urgh… ohhh…” he groaned, his throat dry, his breath shallow. Slowly, cautiously, he tried to sit up, every movement feeling like a laborious effort. “What… happened!? Where am I?!” Panic surged in his chest, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. His head whipped around, his eyes wide, trying to make sense of the strange surroundings that stretched out in every direction.

“What is this place?!” he shouted, his voice echoing back to him, mocking him. The silence that followed only deepened his confusion. It was as if he were the only one left in the world, the air thick with an eerie stillness. His breath quickened, and a cold sweat broke out along his brow. Where was he? Nothing looked familiar. Nothing felt familiar.

His mind raced, trying to anchor itself in reality, but it was like trying to hold onto smoke. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, or even what here was. The landscape around him felt alien—an endless stretch of strange, twisted trees, and flora that looked as though it had been pulled from a dream or a nightmare. “What country is this?!” he muttered, staring at the unfamiliar vegetation. “This… this isn’t like anything back home. What’s going on?”

He glanced down at his own body in an almost detached manner. Pajama pants. A faded blue shirt. That was it. “Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Just perfect…” He felt a wave of humiliation wash over him—this was what he had to work with now?

“HELLO?!” he called out, his voice cracking, raw with frustration. “IS ANYONE THERE?!” His shout broke the silence for a moment, but the stillness swallowed it whole. No answer. No response. Nothing.

A sense of helplessness gnawed at him. His chest tightened, his pulse quickening with each passing second. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t just sit around and wait. The thought of being alone, of being completely lost in a place he didn’t even recognize… it was suffocating.

“Alright, let’s get moving…” He turned and started walking, each step feeling heavy, as if the ground itself was resisting him. He was looking for something, anything—water, a person, a sign that he wasn’t completely alone.

His thoughts wandered. The interview. The rejection. The crushing sense of failure. It felt like it had just happened yesterday, yet it was somehow so distant now. As he stumbled over the uneven terrain, his mind kept returning to that moment, to the moment when everything he had hoped for had crumbled. Now, out here, in this strange world, he wondered how much worse things could possibly get.

After what felt like an eternity of aimless wandering, his legs were stiff, and his body was beginning to ache with exhaustion. He sat down on a fallen log, his shoulders slumped, his head tilted back to look at the sky.

A sky that, he realized, seemed… off.

“What the hell…?” He squinted. There were two moons. Two. A sinking feeling started to spread through him. “No… no, that can’t be right. What is happening?” His voice wavered as he spoke aloud, his words barely audible. The moons seemed to hover above him, cold and indifferent, as if they were watching him from a distance.

Before he could process this bizarre discovery, a rustling sound came from behind him. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Who’s there?!” he called out, scrambling to his feet, his instincts screaming at him to be ready, to do something.

The sound of cracking branches was followed by something else—a low growl, deep and menacing.

Then, from the shadows, a dark figure lunged at him, faster than he could react. The world exploded into chaos as the man was knocked to the ground, the weight of the creature pressing him into the earth.

What the hell is this place?! He thought, struggling to break free, his mind spiraling deeper into confusion and terror

"UGH! AAAAAH!... GRAAAAGHH!!" he screamed as the creature's sharp claws and teeth tore into his flesh. "HEELGH! HELP MGAAAAH!" he cried out in pain, but the creature’s roar—an unfamiliar, terrifying sound—drowned his voice.

It hurts! What is happening? Is it a bear? Am I going to die again? Again? Have I... died before? I can't remember... getting sleepy... These were his final thoughts as consciousness faded to black.

-Break-

“Heey, heeeey! Wake up! The carriage is here!” the mysterious girl in the white robe said, her voice tinged with mild exasperation. “I told you to sleep early before our expedition.”

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The man in full plated armor groggily sat up, stifling a yawn as he rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, Millea. I was out with Rodrick for a quick spar... (yawns) to warm up before we set out. Lost track of time.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Millea sighed, shaking her head. “You're always sparring before a mission. We’ve got a long day ahead, Finrod. Save the energy.”

From behind them, a girl in a large black hat, clutching a wooden staff with a glowing green crystal, grinned mischievously. “Let them be, Millea. We’re about to raid a notorious band of bandits on the outskirts of Halletheas. Our first joint expedition, remember? You’ve heard the rumors, right? The mad warmonger, 'Regras the Savage,' is rumored to be with them. Fin and Rodrick are just chickening out.”

“I’m NOT chickening out, Elora!” Finrod's voice was loud and full of pride. “Just wait, that ‘Regras’ guy is going to feel the might of my spear!”

Elora rolled her eyes, a teasing smirk on her face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’ve got your ‘mighty spear.’ You and that thing are a real threat.”

Before Finrod could respond, Millea waved at the front gate. “Rodrick’s here!”

Rodrick, bulky in his armor, was running toward them, his massive shield slung across his back. “Sorry I’m late, I—”

“Yeah, we know,” Elora cut him off with a grin, though her tone was lighthearted.

“Did we get all the supplies?” Finrod asked, glancing over at Elora, his voice softening as he looked to her for confirmation.

Elora stepped forward, rifling through their bags. “Hmm, let me see... Five scrolls of teleportation, tier 2; twenty bottles of healing potion, tier 3. Looks like we’ve got everything we need... Wait— she paused, eyeing Finrod’s pack suspiciously. “Why do you have the fang of a direwolf in your bag? We don’t need this!”

Finrod immediately went red, fumbling for an explanation. “It’s... uh, a lucky charm. Can we just go already?”

Millea couldn’t help but chuckle silently, while Elora just shook her head. “Fine, fine. Let’s get moving,” she said, clearly amused.

The group moved toward the carriage, joining the other adventurer party they’d be traveling with.

A tall woman, wielding a massive axe, eyed them curiously. “So, you’re the leader of this group?”

“Y-yeah. My name’s Finrod, and this is my party, the ‘Blue Wolves,’” Finrod said proudly, trying to stand a little taller.

“The 'Blue Wolves,’ huh?” The woman gave a small smile. “Simple, but it’s got a nice ring to it. I’m Mava Hawksley, leader of the ‘Silver Fang Bear.’ Nice to meet you all.”

Millea’s eyes widened slightly. “Hawksley? Isn’t that a noble’s last name? What’s a noble lady doing in an adventuring party... and as a warrior, no less?” she mused quietly to herself.

Finrod, trying to maintain his composure, smiled brightly. “It’s an honor to work with someone as renowned as you, Mava, hero of Deinsfield! I’ve heard so many stories about you from back in my hometown!”

Mava smiled warmly, though there was a hint of modesty in her expression. “Likewise, Finrod the Sky Piercer. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, too. You and your party have a lot of potential.”

Finrod chuckled nervously. “Ohh... that’s nothing,” he said, clearly embarrassed by the praise.

At that moment, Mava raised her voice to the coachman standing by the bridge, “Hey, old man! Is the carriage ready?”

The coachman looked up, giving a hearty wave. “Everything’s ready, ma’am! The horses are in top shape, the carriage has been inspected, and our pass through the border of Halletheas is all signed off!”

“Good,” Mava said, turning back to the group. “Then let’s go, shall we?” She gave a slight nod.

“Yes, ma’am!” the Blue Wolves answered in unison, eager to get underway.

They proceeded to load their gear into the carriage, carefully arranging the supplies to avoid breaking any fragile bottles. After a moment, Mava called out again, “Hey, old man, let’s get moving!”

The coachman scrambled to hop into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go... HO!” he shouted, cracking the reins.

Mava watched the chattering young adventurers, the sounds of their laughter mingling with the creaking of the carriage. As she observed them, a wave of nostalgia hit her. She remembered her own youthful days, when she had been brimming with dreams and enthusiasm, setting out to prove herself in a world that often felt too big.

They have a long way to go… Mava thought, watching them with a knowing smile. But... I think they’ll do just fine.

And with that, the group set off, bound for the village near Halletheas. They were heading into unknown danger, unaware of the ominous threats that awaited them on their journey.

-Break-

Meanwhile, near the ominous shadows of the poisoned oasis, two factions convened in secrecy at the edge of the dark forest.

“Did you collect the raw materials as instructed?” The masked man’s voice was a mere whisper, his words careful and precise as he addressed the dark figure before him.

The dark figure flashed a disarming smile, a little too broad to be genuine. “Of course, my friend,” he said with feigned warmth, his words dripping with insincerity as he waved his hand dismissively to his men. Moments later, they rolled forward a cart carrying two large gallons of the mysterious purple liquid.

The masked man eyed the cart carefully before walking over and opening the faucet, allowing the liquid to fill half a glass. He drank deeply, savoring the taste with a quiet groan of satisfaction. “Ohhhh… I can feel it… Purest rage…” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure, as if the drink itself was an indulgence in forbidden power.

The dark figure’s smile didn’t falter, though the edge in his voice was unmistakable. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tone light, but tinged with mock concern. “I can’t believe you’re consuming it raw… Brave choice, my friend. A real man of action, aren’t you?” The compliment was insincere, laced with the slightest hint of skepticism. It was the kind of fake friendliness one might use with a business partner you didn’t fully trust but still needed to tolerate.

The masked man paused for a moment, letting the question hang in the air before he responded. “I’m fine…” His voice was cold, his gaze unwavering. “Well, just as promised…” He pulled out a small case and opened it to reveal several bottles, each filled with a similar liquid. He handed one to the dark figure, watching as he took it and examined it carefully.

The dark figure ran his fingers over the glass, nodding appreciatively. “Beautiful…” he murmured, his voice almost reverential, but there was a calculated gleam in his eyes, as if searching for flaws. He looked back up at the masked man. “This refined version won’t kill me, or turn me into one of your monstrosities, will it?” His tone was casual, but the question was pointed, masking a deeper mistrust that lay beneath his friendly facade.

The masked man’s eyes narrowed slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Why don’t you try it?” he suggested, the challenge clear in his voice.

The dark figure’s men exchanged nervous glances, one stepping forward to caution him. “It wouldn’t be wise to try it yourself, boss…” he said, his voice hesitant.

The dark figure raised an eyebrow, his fake smile not quite reaching his eyes. “You’re right, it wouldn’t…” he replied, his tone dripping with insincerity. “But then again, how would I know if I don’t test it, hmm?” Without another word, he swiftly grabbed one of his men by the face, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. In one smooth motion, he forced the man to drink the liquid. “UGHHH, glok glok glok!” The man choked and gasped before collapsing to the ground, twitching violently.

The dark figure barely acknowledged the scene. “What the hell is that, boss?!” the man screamed in panic and pain, struggling to rise but unable to.

The dark figure’s smile remained in place, though it was starting to show signs of strain as his patience wore thin. “Stop whining and sit still…” he said coldly, drawing a spear from his back with an almost bored movement. “If this doesn’t work, you know what will happen to you, right?” He turned to the masked man, his voice suddenly flat, as if the business partnership was coming to an end.

The masked man’s expression remained unchanged, his tone just as calm as before. “Why would I lie?” he asked, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. “If it didn’t work, I’d be as good as dead anyway. You, of all people, know that.”

The dark figure let out a low chuckle, a sound without warmth. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice thick with mock amusement. “If this is a lie, I’ll take it up with you personally. But I’m not worried. You wouldn’t risk your own death, would you?” His smile was too wide, his eyes too sharp, as though he were daring the masked man to prove him wrong.

The dark figure proceeded to impale his man in the head. “GAAGH!” the man screamed before falling silent. “Well, that didn’t work… Guess it’s time to kill you now,” the dark figure declared.

“Patience is a virtue, my friend… Look,” the masked man urged. All eyes turned to the fallen man in astonishment.

“Would you look at that…” the dark figure muttered, watching as the unexpected unfolded.