Volume 1: Path – [Awakening Arc]
Chapter 9: A Beautiful Garden
The world was soaked in endless darkness, an abyss with no hint of light. Yet within that silence, a cacophony of haunting, bone-chilling sounds echoed with gurgling murmurs, guttural growls, whispering laughs, and screeching howls, all merging together in chaotic dissonance. It sounded as if a thousand twisted voices, each from a different personality, each layered with its own torment and madness, were clashing together. Some cried. Some laughed. Some chanted. All of it looped again and again like a cursed symphony of insanity.
In this forsaken void, a small bright light began falling, its soft glow piercing the oppressive black. No one could tell where it was falling from or to, as the dimensions of the space were lost to the obscurity. There was no ground nor sky.
Trailing behind this light was a human body, drifting silently downward. The figure clutched the ball of light tightly, his fingers wrapped around it like it was the only anchor left in the world.
Just then, countless mirror shards drifted into the range of the small glowing orb. The light it emitted struck the fragments, scattering beams across the surrounding darkness, bouncing between the shards like a chaotic prism.
Soft glints shimmered in the distance with faint, eerie reflections that briefly illuminated patches of the void. Though they revealed parts of the endless space, the visibility extended no more than five hundred meters. Beyond that, darkness consumed everything like a hungry abyss.
Clink... crack... zip! The mirror shards abruptly turned direction, homing in on the falling human. They sliced through the air with piercing sharpness and—shlunk!—embedded themselves into his body. Each impact jolted his form, causing violent shivers to ripple through his limbs. His eyes were shut tight, but the pain kept escalating him slice after slice, jab after jab, until his eyelids began to flutter due to all the pain he was experiencing, his eyes struggling to open.
Before his gaze could fully awaken—crshhkk!—a dense volley of mirror shards surged toward his face. The moment his eyes opened a sliver, the shards shattered them instantly. Shhhnkk! Shards tore through the orbs with violent precision, crushing them into glittering dust with no blood spilled. Instead, thick black smoke hissed from the wounds—fsssshhh...—curling like a curse being exhaled.
That same dark vapor leaked from every puncture the shards created, as if his body were no longer flesh.
Then a scream escaped from his mouth, a raw, guttural howl that tore through the suffocating darkness like a dying beast. The sound echoed and warped—SKRRAAAAAH!—twisting through the void, reverberating endlessly in the bleak expanse.
As the barrage of shards continued, they tore into his face, each impact a wet crunch and crackle, distorting the features beyond recognition. His mouth split apart, jagged and unrecognizable, shrouded in curling black smoke.
The rest of his body followed, reshaped by the torment cracks splitting open, limbs twisting, form crumbling until what remained was a figure drowned in darkness. The shadow of darkness coiled around him like chains, hiding what was left as if the world itself rejected the sight.
The small, radiant orb began to glow with increasing intensity as it slowly merged into the figure shrouded in darkness. From within his broken form, the light surged outward, like a pulse of divine energy pressing back the shadows. Inch by inch, the darkness peeled away from his body, curling and hissing as it retreated—fsssshhh...—leaving behind faint trails of smoke.
The healing light wrapped around him in soft, rhythmic waves, closing torn flesh, mending shattered bones, and restoring what had been devoured by despair. As the restoration progressed, the orb's brilliance gradually dimmed, its energy spent with every injury it healed.
Around them, the void itself began to brighten gently, subtly. Visibility expanded slowly to nearly one kilometer in every direction, revealing a vast, empty expanse. Beneath them stretched a smooth, mirror-like surface tinged red, as if reflecting a blood-stained sky. The water lay perfectly still, yet somehow the human stood upon it effortlessly, as if gravity itself had been rewritten.
The moment the human's feet touched the surface, ripples danced outward across the water, glimmering faintly beneath his step. He collapsed backward, chest heaving, eyes fluttering open only to be met with a sight that stole his breath. Suspended within the softly glowing orb of light was a woman curled into herself.
Her skin was porcelain fair, flawless and unmarred by imperfection. Silvery platinum blonde hair fell in smooth, slightly wavy strands to her mid-back, parted elegantly to one side. Her oval-shaped face was sculpted with gentle precision with high cheekbones lifting her serene, almost otherworldly features. A small, refined nose rested between glowing almond-shaped eyes with vivid golden irises, as if galaxies whispered behind their gaze. Long, curled lashes and delicately arched brows framed them, their beauty softened by an emotion hard to name. Her lips were medium-full, soft pink, with a defined cupid's bow that gave her expression an air of quiet vulnerability.
She wore nothing, her figure curled like a sleeping soul within the orb. Yet what stunned the human more than anything was that he knew her. It was Uriel. The one etched into his soul.
Caelus's heart twisted. Without hesitation, he stumbled to his feet and sprinted toward her. But just as he moved, the orb responded by drifting backward at an identical pace. Every step forward he took was perfectly mirrored by the orb, like chasing a reflection in an endless dream.
One foot forward. One inch lost.
Two more. Still no closer.
He didn't stop.
Not even when minutes dragged into hours, when fatigue burned into his muscles, when the silence began to claw at his mind. He chased her endlessly, his voice hoarse, his limbs trembling, his soul desperate.
Hours blurred into days.
Days faded into a painful blur of exhaustion and longing.
Finally, after nearly a month, the boy's body gave out. He crumpled onto the mirrored surface, face down, breath shallow.
And still, the orb hovered in the air far away from him.
As he collapsed to the ground, his face struck the cold mirror surface below. In an instant, he was swallowed by the rising red water. It surged upward with a violent roar—splash!—yet never once entered his body. It pressed against him like a barrier, unable to penetrate his skin, as if something sacred or cursed denied it entry.
From the abyss below, a monstrous hand erupted, its shadow swallowed the boy whole, eclipsing even the dim crimson light. This hand wasn't just a flesh it also has a mix horror in it. Its entire surface was covered in faces with some twisted, contorted, thousands upon thousands of them. Infants wailing, elders howling, men screaming in agony, women sobbing in despair all stitched together like a grotesque mosaic of suffering.
Every face opened its mouth—waaaah... screeeech... keeeeergh...—each releasing a unique sound, yet all woven into a single, unbearable chorus of torment. The cries followed a maddening rhythm, a pattern that pulsed through the void like a heart that beat only pain.
The massive hand hovered for a second, trembling with restrained hunger. Then it slowly began to close around Caelus, the fingers curling inward like pillars of death. One massive, gnarled finger grotesquely large, oozing shadows slid into Caelus's mouth.
His body spasmed—gllghkk!—as his eyes snapped open, the sensation like swallowing a world of rot.
But there were no tears.
His eyes welled, but nothing fell. His body had run dry of sorrow. He had already shed everything he had for Uriel. What remained were dry sobs and a gaping silence that hurt more than pain ever could.
The grotesque finger released a red wave of energy into Caelus's mouth—thumppp...—filling his entire body. Just as the energy was about to seep through the numerous holes in his body, it paused unnaturally, curling inward instead of escaping like it was claiming his body, not healing it, but corrupting it. The strange energy surged downward, threading through his veins like molten wires, before slowly ascending toward his brain. His limbs twitched involuntarily—tzzzk... glrp...—as the power built up inside him.
In the next moment, Caelus woke up and saw he was standing in a beautiful garden, where sunlight bathed every corner with golden warmth. The trees at the edges of the garden were towering and ancient, their trunks gnarled with age and their thick branches spreading a cathedral-like canopy above. Each tree belonged to a different species, like the towering Sycamore in the northwest, an old Willow with gently swaying tendrils near the east, and a silver-leaved Olive tree casting flickering shadows near the center.
The grass was lush, bright green, and soft beneath the feet, kept dewy fresh by an old brass faucet embedded in the ground. It hissed intermittently, spraying misty arcs of water in random patterns, casting miniature rainbows in the air. Hiss... shhhh...
At the heart of the garden, vibrant blooms were arranged like a living compass: Zinnias to the south in a burst of red and orange, Asters to the north with hues of violet and white, Coneflowers to the west standing proud in soft pinks, and Milkweed to the east swaying lightly in the breeze.
Swarming around these flowers were butterflies. Monarchs with their iconic orange and black wings danced above the Zinnias, while smaller, bright-blue Common Blue butterflies flitted among the Asters. Near the Coneflowers, a rare Purple Emperor shimmered with iridescent violet hues. At the Milkweed, the delicate Swallowtails spread their pale yellow wings like stained glass. Flutter, flutter...
Encircling the garden beds were low-growing bushes — all part of the Butterfly Bush family. Their lavender-colored blooms released a faint fragrance that called to butterflies from afar. Most of the butterflies were nestled here, wings still as they drank deeply from the nectar.
[End of Chapter 9]