The knife sank into flesh with a wet crack.
Anabelle let out a brief, animalistic scream and twisted the blade until she felt resistance give way. The creature howled—a hoarse, strangled sound, somewhere between a roar and a gurgle. Its maw bristling with fangs convulsed, spewing a red sludge mixed with shards of stone before collapsing against her in a warm spray. The weight made her stagger.
She yanked her dagger free with a sharp motion, gasping. Around her, the air vibrated, thick with the smell of iron and ash. Dozens of figures stirred in the scarlet mist—beasts of flesh, rock, and fire—all tearing into each other in a hellish cacophony.
The ground itself trembled, lifted by the fury of the clashes. Every roar echoed off the walls; every impact sent filaments of mana sparking into the air like warborne fireflies.
The sky bled above them.
Red clouds drifted slowly among suspended shards of stone, and the light of the third sun bathed the world in a sickly glow. The water all around still boiled, dotted with floating flames and dismembered corpses. It was as if sea and sky had merged into a single substance: alive, unstable, monstrous.
Anabelle wiped the streak of blood across her cheek with the back of her arm.
— Fuck… she whispered. This never ends.
Her gaze swept across the battlefield. Wingless griffons hurled themselves at half-petrified hydras; humanoid figures with twisted limbs gutted each other with claws; further off, swarms of crimson insects descended on anything that moved. The entire world seemed to have gone mad.
A joyless smile brushed her lips.
Good thing they're killing each other too, she thought.
The heat throbbed, oppressive. Shadows danced over the red surface, and each breath scorched her lungs. At times, she felt as though the light itself flowed over her skin, thick and sticky as blood.
— Anabelle!!
The voice tore through the din, hoarse, urgent.
She spun around.
Lucas. Surrounded by a dozen creatures—beasts with split jaws, human torsos, and onyx claws—he stepped back cautiously, his face slick with sweat. His sword glowed blue, but every strike seemed to draw more enemies.
— Damn it, buff me, quick!!
Without thinking, she raised her hand, heart hammering. Her fingers glowed with an orange halo, and the prayer surged in her mind, instinctive, burning.
You, goddess of fire and life, Mordyana, descend once more upon your lost children. Ignite their flesh, grant them strength, and consume their fears.
A shiver ran through her.
— Blazing Blessing!
Light erupted in her palm and spread outward like a wave. The ground trembled. Incandescent filaments rose from the earth, wrapping around Lucas's body. His aura turned a deep crimson. Muscles tensed, breath deepened. He moved—faster, stronger. Every sword strike became a flash. The creatures fell one by one in a crash of blood and dust.
Anabelle wiped the sweat from her brow. Her temples throbbed, each pulse hammering her head like a mallet. Mana churned in her veins, unstable, exhausting.
Then a sound. A cry. Not a monster's. More human. More… familiar.
She froze, throat tight. Laughter followed. Long. Distorted. Half-drowned in the chaos.
She turned toward the shore. There, on the dark rocks, a figure staggered, drenched in blood, arms outstretched to the sky. The red light cast a visage she could hardly believe.
— …Eden?
The name escaped her in a whisper.
Her heart leapt violently. Impossible. He had fallen. She had seen him swallowed by the sea. And yet, there he was. Alive. Laughing.
A laugh that was no longer human.
A dull dread climbed her throat. Her mage instinct screamed that there was something wrong with this presence.
But she didn't hesitate.
Her legs moved before she realized it. The ground throbbed beneath her feet, splashed with blood and ashes. Behind her, Lucas shouted something again, but his voice was lost in the tumult.
The ground shifted beneath her steps. Anabelle ran until breath failed, lungs scorched by heat, eyes fixed on the figure she could hardly believe real.
Lucas's cries dissolved into the battlefield's roar.
— Anabelle! Come back, damn it!
But she didn't hear him. All she saw was him.
Eden.
A living image of a nightmare returned from the abyss.
Each stride carried her across a ruined world. The ground itself beat like an invisible heart. Everything was chaos, fire, and blood.
But she ran on.
Mana hummed in the air. The smell of iron and salt clung to her throat. The red sky pulsed, sickly, above.
She tripped over a corpse, rose immediately, gasping, heart pounding. Her vision blurred, but the figure ahead remained clear—motionless, facing the sky, bathed in bloody light.
When she finally reached the shore, she stopped dead.
Her breath caught.
Eden stood there, on the ground. His body swayed, arms spread as if defying the world itself. He laughed. A strangled, guttural laugh, joyless, no longer human. His eyes, mad, fixed the red sky as if seeing something she could not comprehend.
— Eden…?
Her voice broke.
She took a step, then another, and reality struck her full force. His left leg. Or rather, what was left of it.
The limb ended abruptly below the knee. A gaping, horrific wound, still spurting blood in spurts, splattering the rock. Anabelle's breath froze. Her legs gave way.
She sank to her knees.
— No… no, no, no…
Her hands trembled as they touched the wound. The heat of the blood burned her skin; the contact crushed her heart. Eden continued laughing. A laugh that tore the air, swinging between pain and madness.
Anabelle felt her throat tighten. Her fingers clenched the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and in the chaos, a prayer rose on its own.
You, goddess of fire and life, Mordyana… breathe once more, restore the strength he has lost. Not for me. Not for your glory. For him.
Her voice became a whisper.
— Vital Breath.
Magic surged in a golden flare. Light flowed down her arms, seeping into the wound. The bleeding stopped. Flesh slowly knit together, leaving a pale scar where the leg had ended. The air vibrated a moment longer, then fell heavy, saturated with burnt energy.
But Eden did not stop. He still laughed. His eyes fixed on the empty sky as if seeing an invisible presence—a foe, a god, or perhaps himself.
Anabelle lifted her head. Nothing. Nothing but the red sun hanging above, indifferent, monstrous. Fear crept into her veins. It wasn't just the wound: what she saw in his eyes was no longer just Eden. It was something else. Something broken, touched by madness.
She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.
— Eden… listen to me. It's going to be okay, alright?
He did not respond. A grimace twisted his face. A short, muffled laugh escaped him again. His lips moved, but she could not understand the words.
Anabelle felt tears cloud her eyes. She brought her face closer, seeking his gaze.
— Don't worry… she whispered. I'll do everything to get you home. I'll protect you, no matter the cost.
For a moment, she thought he heard her. His eyes turned toward her, shining, lost, and his laughter faded to a breath.
Around them, the sea still thrashed, slow, viscous. The sky seemed to close in, swallowing the light. Anabelle felt the world sway, and for the first time in a long while, she was afraid—not of monsters, not of blood, but of what Eden was becoming.
Then Eden began to move. Slowly at first, as if waking from a nightmare, then suddenly, with animalistic brutality. His hands clawed at the rock, fingers gripping the still-warm earth. He began to crawl, dragging his mutilated body across the ground.
— Eden! No! Stop, you're still too weak!
Anabelle rushed to him, trying to restrain him, but he shoved her back with a sharp, almost violent motion. His eyes were empty, possessed by a fever she did not recognize.
— She's here… he breathed.
His voice was only a rasp. He continued crawling, ignoring her.
— She's here… I can feel her… I can feel her…
— Eden, who are you talking about?!
He did not answer. He moved, fingers gouging the stone, muscles trembling, mouth open in a harsh breath. Each motion seemed to tear a piece of flesh, yet he persisted. Nothing could stop him.
Panic gripped Anabelle. She glanced around—and what she saw froze her blood. The ground vibrated. Cries returned. Monsters approached. Behind rocks, shapes emerged: malformed silhouettes, covered in scales, eyes, fangs. Some crawled, others leapt. All converged on them, drawn by the scent of blood and mana.
— Fuck… no, no, no!
She sprang up, dagger in hand. Heat returned to her veins—a surge of burning mana. Her fingers traced quick circles in the air, runes lighting up around her.
— Chains of Mordyana!
Red shards erupted from the ground. Chains of fire shot up, wrapping around the first creatures trying to leap. Their roars echoed across the plain like the screams of doomed beasts. Anabelle didn't wait for them to die. She lunged at the next, drove her dagger into its throat, felt the burning flesh tear under her hand. Blood splattered her face.
Behind her, Eden still crawled, breath short, fingers bloodied.
— She's here… I can feel her… she's calling me…
His voice was lost in the din.
Anabelle shouted:
— Eden! Snap out of it, damn it!
He did not respond. He crawled on, gaze fixed on an invisible point ahead, guided by a force she could not comprehend.
A claw sliced the air centimeters from her head. She pivoted, struck, cutting a throat with a swift motion. The monster fell, but others already took its place. They emerged from water, stone, sky—as if the universe itself wanted to devour them.
Anabelle backed against a rock, gasping. She cast another spell, her words mingling with her broken breath.
— Protective Ember!
An incandescent circle spread around her. Flames erupted on impact, consuming the nearest figures. The air reeked of molten iron and burning flesh. But nothing stopped the horde. Every fallen creature seemed to feed the next.
Eden crawled on. His mutilated leg trailed behind, leaving a red streak in the dust. His fingers clawed at the stone. He murmured still:
— She's here… she's here…
Anabelle followed as best she could, striking, praying, her magic wearing thinner with each successive assault.
Her world shrank to a single goal: protect him. At all costs.
She fell to her knees beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.
— Eden! Listen to me! You'll die if you keep going!
He lifted his head. His eyes met hers—and she saw something unfathomable. A glimmer she had never seen in a human. Lucid madness. Terrifying conviction.
— She's here… he murmured again.
Then he drove his hands into the earth and crawled one last time, a desperate gesture, toward a wide stone slab protruding from the ground.
Anabelle froze, gasping. Beneath them, the stone vibrated faintly, streaked with glowing lines. Eden laid a hand on the surface, and a shiver ran through the earth.
— Eden… what are you doing?
He slowly lifted his eyes to her.
A strange smile warped his face.
— She's here.
His fingers trembled. Blood dripped onto the stone, seeping into the cracks. And then, with a low rumble, the light spread.
Symbols began to glow around them, tracing an immense circular pattern etched into the earth. Anabelle stepped back, breathless.
She looked up—and understood.
Beneath their feet lay a massive stone door, sealed for centuries. At its center, carved into the world itself, a symbol: a circle intersected by a cross.
The ground vibrated again, and wind rushed through the cracks like a scream from the depths.
Eden still smiled. And, in the red light of the sky, it seemed the earth itself held its breath.