Khal stared at the creature, confused.
"Tomb? What are you talking about? isn't this an unexplored dungeon?"
The creature gazed at Khal, rage in it's eye.
"Did you not just hear me? Are you deaf? I just said its a tomb!"
I had no information prior to entering here. Merl is the one that told me this was a dungeon. If she was lying about what was down here, what was so important to make her want to hide such useless information, and what else could she be hiding from me?
Khal turned to Merlin, a look of disappointment in his gaze.
Merlin shook her head.
"I didn't know it was a tomb; the information on the map and the information my mother gave me all stated that this was a dungeon, i have no reason to want to hide such piece of information."
Khal turned back around, his gaze returning to the creature, lost in thought.
… I don't believe a word coming out of her mouth.
" So where exactly is your master's grave? I'm sure he wouldn't mind us ravaging around his belongings a bit."
The creature flung itself up, standing on top of Khal's palm, pure hatred in its gaze.
"Do whatever you want to me; you can kill me or torture me. i don't care, but what i won't do, what i will never do, is allow filthy, thieving humans like yourselves to ransack my master's grave."
Khal stared coldly at the creature, murderous intent seeping from his gaze. But even so, the creature didn't back down, staring back into Khal's eyes, unfazed by his unspoken threat.
Khal took a deep breath before sighing.
"Alright then, be that way; i'll just have to find it myself."
Merlin, shocked by Khal's words, stared at him with confusion, her tone serious.
"What do you mean by 'be that way? He has information we need on how to move on from here; you should be pulling it's suckers off one by one until he talks."
Khal stood up, holding onto the creature; it flung around, struggling to get free and shouting expletives.
"I still have some use for him. I might seem heartless but im not going to just straight-up torture the guy."
Uses you have but obviously won't give me. i know you know a lot more about where this is but for some reason you're not telling me, i bet you'd love to get information on how to find the grave.
Khal stepped over the piles of armor, making his way to the throne. Merlin followed behind, a glint of sadness in her eyes.
They made it to the throne, climbing up the stairs and there it was, the throne. At least 9 feet tall, its clean red cushions and golden frame.
"For a tomb, this place is quite clean."
Merl immediately began searching the wall behind the throne, for a way to the tomb owner's grave.
"Put me down, you ingrate human. i am a proud member of the patrick race how dare you treat me this way!" The creature screamed, moving around in Khal's hand.
Khal lifted him up to his face, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
"Did you just say… Your race is called patrick?"
The creature stared at him, confused by the question.
"Yea, in your language that's what my people are called."
Khal covered his mouth, hiding his laugh at the absurdity.
'Well, from now on i'll call you pat."
Pat fidgeted vigorously, trying his best to break free.
"I am not your pet or someone you have the right to name, i have no name and even if i did i wouldn't allow you to know it!"
"Pat it is." Khal shoved him inside his sweater pocket, holding him down.
Khal walked over to the throne, staring intently at it, trying to find a clue.
This chair… it's giving me an odd feeling.
Khal reached out to the throne, placing his hand on it, and the second he did, the light in his eyes faded.
Merlin looked back at him, noticing him just standing there, unresponsive.
"Khal, are you okay?" She called but to no avail.
"Don't waste your breath; he can't hear you now." Pat crawled out of Khal's pocket, jumping down face first on the ground.
"What do you mean he can't hear me? What did you do to him?!"
Pat stood up, brushing himself off.
"Me, i didn't do a thing. if you want to blame someone, blame him for touching the throne." he continued.
"Once he did, his consciousness was sucked into my master's last contingency plan in the case of his death. If he lives he will be able to receive my master's inheritance… but if he dies, well, he dies.
Merlin walked over to him, her hands seeping mana, her eyes oozing murderous intent.
"No… if he dies… You die.
Khal slowly opened his eyes. A blinding white light flooded his vision, obscuring everything. As it began to fade, he found himself standing in an endless, white void—silent, empty, surreal.
Where the hell am I?
I just touched the throne and then—suddenly—I'm here.
"My world was once peaceful."
The voice was unfamiliar masculine, and it echoed directly inside Khal's mind.
Startled, Khal immediately raised his guard, trying to summon his spear—but nothing happened.
His hand remained empty.
"If only I had turned that woman down… maybe my world wouldn't have met such a cruel fate."
The white space around him began to ripple, the overwhelming whiteness bleeding into colors. The world twisted and warped, as if reality itself was being painted around him.
Khal found himself back in the throne room—but it was different now. No longer ancient and lifeless, it brimmed with splendor and vitality. Guards stood in orderly rows along the sides of the hall, their armor gleaming beneath the radiant light.
Seated on the throne was a middle-aged man—muscular, with short black hair, a bushy beard, and light blue eyes. He wore a full set of dark armor, and a tall red cape draped behind him.
He sat with quiet authority, his expression blank as he leaned his head against one hand, elbow resting on the throne's arm.
Before him, a woman in a green dress knelt, her face strangely obscured—blacked out, preventing Khal from seeing her face.
"Supreme Ruler Hagan of the Saint Guard World," the woman said, her voice trembling, "I humbly ask you—please, save my people."
Hagan stared down at her, annoyance flickering in his single visible eye.
"Madam ######," he replied, "I have no reason to interfere in a war between two separate worlds. I made a vow long ago: the only rifts my people will cross are those that lead to dead worlds or ones inhabited solely by non-sentient life."
The woman bowed even lower, her tone pleading, heavy with despair.
"Please, I beg you, Supreme Ruler. They'll slaughter my people—they're only targeting human-inhabited worlds specifically. Once mine falls, yours will be next!"
Gasps echoed through the hall, followed by murmurs. Hagan raised his hand and curled it into a fist. The room fell silent at once.
"Who are these people?" he asked. "And what do you mean they're hunting humans?"
The woman looked up, wiping tears from her eyes.
"They're monsters… things that crave human flesh and the taste of human souls. They may look like us, but they aren't. Not even close. And once they are finished with my world, I have no doubt—they'll come for yours."
Hagan fell silent, lost in thought for a long moment.
"…Leave for now," he finally said. "I must reflect on this. Return tomorrow, and I will give you my answer."
The room shifted once more, fading back into the white void. Khal stood silently, his hand resting on his chin, deep in thought.
If I'm not wrong… these must be the tomb owner's memories.
I have so many questions. Did his world fall to those man-eating monsters? Or was something else behind it?
And why was I able to see everyone else's face… except that woman's?
Even her name was censored.
"We accepted her proposal," the voice echoed in Khal's mind again—it was Hagan's voice, calm but heavy with regret.
"We joined forces to stop the invasion of the Skinwalkers for good, to ensure they wouldn't be able to terrorize another world…"
There was a pause.
"But… were they really Skinwalkers?"
"…When we found out for sure, it was already too late."