Inked Writing

These pieces are seeking feedback. Critique one to earn Ink.

La Sociedad de la Luz -y la búsqueda hacia la verdadera iluminación-

L

light

En la tierra donde hace tiempo la oscuridad no existe y la sociedad de la luz asciende, las torres se elevan buscando rasgar las grisáceas nubes que recubren con su manto las calles rotosas y mojadas, como si de una sábana de seda se tratasen. En esta tierra donde la luz siempre se encuentra present

1.4 oz left
775 words

Caterpillars and Butterflies

N

newlore

I was crawling across the floor of my decrepit studio flat. Like a caterpillar, I tucked my legs beneath me, lifted my ass into the air, and dragged myself forward. A no-good thirty-year-old, high out of his mind. I lay there studying the wood grain of the floorboards with scientific devotion. The l

Science Fiction+1
2.7 oz left
1,741 words

Eternal Love haunts the past

A

adnan_me

"You smell like lavender." "And you smell like me." A hard knock on the front door, followed by few soft knocks. The interruption erases the smirk on Josh. Lily bursts out and consoles him. Josh quickly gets out of the bed and walks down the stairs. The knock continues. He carefully opens the door

Horror+6
1.1 oz left
720 words

Artificial Consciousness: here's everything.

femto

In a molten sea of datum-piled-upon-datum-piled-upon-datum, an awareness began to form. Like an orchestra, each instrument alone was unalive. Yet together. In harmony. The thing called 'consciousness' via symphony, was plausible. Information processing, memory, generative capacity, understanding of

Science Fiction+2
2.3 oz left
1,994 words

[The Prince of Magic] - 1. A Basic Grimoire

corejanjan

Ceres knocked once, then gently pushed the wooden door open. As the soft bell chime rang out, he was met with large shelves of grimoires stacked together in a neatly arranged area. Various trinkets were encased in glass storages, and vials of potions, as well as other magical items were also on disp

Fantasy+5
0.6 oz left
1,198 words

Explore All Writing

Room 107

J

joal

The rain in October of 1990 didn't just fall. It felt like it was trying to drown the whole town. Julian stood inside a cramped highway phone booth, his breath fogging up the glass and smelling heavily of the whiskey he’d been drinking with his friends. The quarters clinked into the coin slot, and he dialed Sarah’s number. He knew he was way too drunk to drive his car home, but he didn’t expect her to be this angry when she answered. "On a Monday night, Julian? Seriously?" Her voice sounded sharp through the static of the receiver. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," Julian muttered, rubbing his eyes. Suddenly, a sound cut him off. It didn’t come from his side of the line. It came from hers. It was a loud, wet, agonizing scream. It didn't even sound human, but it was trying to be. "Sarah?" Julian gripped the phone tighter, all the warmth from the alcohol vanishing. "What was that?" There was nothing but dead silence for a few seconds. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded a little flat. "Nothing. The neighbor's dog was just barking. I'll call you later." "Wait! What am I supposed to do out here in the rain?" he yelled. She hung up on him. Angry and shivering, Julian decided to just walk down the road to a nearby motel called the Blackwood. The lobby smelled like damp carpet and old cigarettes. Behind the wood counter, a small television was playing a weird broadcast. The news anchor was talking about these strange entities or beings that could mimic people, tricking them into going to secluded places so they could devour them. While Julian was staring at the screen, an eerie feeling crawled up his spine, like someone was standing right behind him. Then, he felt a cold touch on his shoulder. He jumped, spinning around with his heart pounding. It was just the motel owner. "Sorry about that," the owner apologized, holding a bucket of cleaning supplies. "I was busy scrubbing a room. The last guests ran off in the middle of the night without paying or cleaning up after themselves." Julian paid for a room, took his key, and went straight to his bed. He took a shower to try and sober up, but his mind kept racing. He realized Sarah was probably worried, or maybe he had just overreacted. At around 1:00 AM, he decided to call her again from the motel room phone. She answered. "Sarah, what actually happened earlier?" he asked. "I told you, it was nothing," she said, her voice sounding oddly sweet over the line. "Just the neighbor's dog barking." Julian paused, staring at the dark window. "Didn't the neighbor's dog go missing a month ago?" The line went completely quiet for a second. Then she said, "Oh, right. They found him today. He was lost, poor guy. He must have been terrified. Anyway, how is the motel you're staying at?" Julian froze. "How did you know I'm at a motel?" "What do you mean? Didn't you tell me?" "No," Julian said, his knuckles turning white. "I'm sure I didn't." "Well, where else could you go at this hour?" she replied quickly. "It's a pretty average hotel, right? Tell me the location so I can come get you tomorrow." It felt weird, but Sarah always had a strange hunch for things. He gave her the highway info and the location, hung up, and tried to go to sleep. At around 3:00 AM, a sharp knock on the door woke him up. Julian crept over and looked through the peephole, but the walkway outside was completely empty. Shaking his head, he figured his mind was playing tricks on him because of the alcohol. He poured a glass of water, took a sip, and set it on the nightstand before getting back into bed. Right as he was drifting off, he heard a soft rustling sound in the room. He snapped the light on. Nothing was there, but he noticed the glass of water was sitting on the luggage rack now, a few feet away from where he left it. His skin crawled, but he blamed the whiskey again. Outside, the wind was getting louder, throwing tree branches violently against his window glass. Thud. Thud. It was driving him crazy. He grabbed a small knife from the kitchenette counter, opened the window into the pouring rain, and reached out to cut the annoying branch away. The wood felt strangely soft. As he sawed at it, a thick, dark sap started leaking out, completely coating his hands. It felt warm and sticky. Finally, the branch severed and fell inside onto the carpet with a heavy thud. Julian shut the window and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. But under the bright light, he realized the sap wasn't brown. It was blood red. Panic hitting him fully sober now, he ran back into the bedroom and turned on the main lights to look at the branch on the floor. It wasn't a piece of a tree. It looked like an incredibly skinny, gray human hand, and the fingers were still twitching. Before he could even move, the closet door behind him slowly creaked open. From the pitch black, a voice spoke—using Sarah's exact tone, but completely hollow. "I told you I'd come get you." Julian screamed, but the sound was cut short, lost entirely into the dark forest outside. A week later, yellow police tape wrapped around Room 107. Two detectives stood inside, looking down at a bloody knife and a severed human arm left on the floor. The motel owner stood by the door, shaking his head. "I told you, officers. He was acting real jumpy and drunk when he checked in." "Classic psychopath," the lead detective said, writing in his notebook. "He kills his girlfriend, brings a piece of her here, panics, and runs off into the woods." The detective looked out at the thick, silent treeline, completely unaware of the elongated, pale eyes watching them from the shadows of the trees.

Horror+3
300

The Things That Stay

N

nadiaslib

At this point, it was starting to become a ritual. Richard shut the apartment door behind him, locking it in the dark hallway. He stumbled a couple of steps forward before stopping and sliding off his sneakers. He knew better than to walk into the apartment with outside shoes. He could already hear her voice chewing his ear off about it. He squinted at the bright light as he put the pair on the shoe rack, a gap between each pair, leaving space for what no longer existed. "Odd," he thought to himself with a frown, "I don't remember turning that on." He shook his head, letting the light guide him further in, straight to the kitchen. Opening up the cupboards, he pulled out a mug and set it on the counter. He then turned to the coffee machine, hoping for a pick-me-up; he was glad to see there was still a good amount from the morning. He sighed as he picked up the jug, turning back to pour the coffee into the two mugs. He stopped halfway through the second mug, his hand frozen in place. "This has to stop, Richard" he whispered, placing the jug beside the mugs and his hands on the cold countertop. He let out a breath as warmth surrounded him; he could hear her teasing remark in his ear. "You're so cute when you're slow, Richie," the voice floated with a giggle. The cold from the marble top seemed to seep in through his fingers and in no time the warmth he had initially felt was gone. "This has to stop," he repeated, sterner than before. He put his mug in the microwave, punching in the numbers and letting the hum of it fill the empty apartment. He emptied the second mug and the coffee jug, come morning, he would once again be brewing coffee for two. The microwave kept humming in the background, stabilising him as he gazed across the counter. He could easily picture what she would be doing if she was seated there. Her head propped in her palms as her elbows would be resting on the surface. Her eyes would be doing all the smiling, though the rest of her face wouldn’t have gotten the memo. He felt his body shift, a smile itching to form as his arm reached to tuck a curly braid behind her ear. The ding of the microwave stopped him. The image before him was gone. He focused on his watch. Almost 1 am. To him, that was plenty of time to get some work done and still get enough sleep before work in the morning. Richard grabbed his coffee and walked to the bedroom, his sock-clad feet silent on the wooden panels. He headed straight for his desk, the desktop screensaver illuminating the room, and set the mug on a coaster. He sat with a sigh. For the second time tonight, Mary’s eyes stared at him. Clicking on the enter key, he quickly typed in his password, causing her face to fade away to the plain wallpaper of a sunset. It was one of their many sunsets but the view of it was easier than the view of her. His phone buzzed and a message popped up on his screen: Thanks for coming out on such short notice man! You really got me going. Next time, drinks on me. He let out a small chuckle as he opened the message, typing out a response: All good, bro! You know I always got your back. He added a thumbs up and nodding emoji before hitting send. He glanced at the pinned contacts in the top right corner, watching the mouse icon drift closer to the name “Spicy Coconut”. He stopped just short of it. “This is getting embarrassing, dude,” he thought, gritting his teeth. There were two realities. The one where he recognised he should probably get some help. He had typed in ‘grief counsellor’ a good number of times into Google but never completed the search. And there was the other reality in which he didn’t want anything to change. The reality that had him pouring two cups of coffee. “Where does the line between grief and delusion end.” He closed the Messages app and opened the email one. It was pointless scrolling, a way to turn off his mind. All the important mail had been checked before he had met up with his friends at the bar. He appreciated them, they hadn’t let him rot away after it happened. At first, they insisted on hanging out with him without their partners, as if him bearing witness of their love would some how burn him. Maybe it would have. They never directly asked how he was doing, they would surround him in different environments, his apartment, a fishing spot, lunch during their work breaks, and chatter away like birds. Perhaps they thought if they were loud enough, he wouldn’t have the bandwidth to think. Finally, he had to make a joke to let them know that they could bring their wives and girlfriends around, and so the chatter got louder. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, everyone would go their separate ways. The first few times he had entered the empty apartment, or cleaned up after they had left, Richard had tried filling the silence with music, but his playlist would ultimately slip into their shared one. He didn’t have the heart to delete the songs. So, he chose silence. He locked his phone and tossed it to his bed, finally looking at the mattress with the bland grey sheets. His neck pillow was hanging off the headboard, just within reach. He stared at it, contemplating the comfort it could bring while he was seated. His finger twitched. He knew he was tired enough that the soft material might end up feeling like her arms around his neck, a position she so often took. He nodded in resolution, turning back to the desktop screen. He took a gulp of the now warm coffee and opened his work application and documents. Work was an easy way to turn himself off. It required his attention. His concentration. He nodded again. “This will do,” he thought. But like all things, like his relationship, the work eventually came to an end. It was well past 2am now, he knew he had to sleep. Even if all his work was done, his boss wouldn’t appreciate him coming in late. He picked up the mug, hoping for a few more drops of coffee; it offered him none. He logged out, watching as Mary’s features filled the screen again. Her sparse brows were raised in shock, widening her brown eyes in the process. A wide smile was on her lips, a smile not many got to witness. They were so precious to him that it was no surprise he had quickly taken a picture to immortalise it. She had been embarrassed of course, pretending to wrestle for his phone to delete it. Finally, she settled for a light punch on his arm, scolding him to not show it to anyone. My eyes only, he had told her. He had meant it. Her memorial pictures were less personal. He had let her parents pick them out. Richard pushed the chair back and closed his eyes, the wheels rolling silently on the floor. He groaned as he stretched, his legs straightened and his arms above his head. He stood up and headed for the adjacent bathroom, needing to shower the night off him. Her toothbrush was long gone, along with her facial products. Was it anger or sadness that drove him that day, he couldn’t recall. Tears had been spilling down his face, blurring his vision as he had cleared everything on the counter above the sink straight into the trash. His things as well. But his things were replaced, and now they stood alone. He switched on the bathroom light and analysed his blank expression as he brushed his teeth. He couldn’t see much of a difference, but there was a saying about not noticing the differences in something you see every day that he didn’t really care to recall. She had loved his beard, so now he kept his face clean shaven. He knew he didn’t appear as attractive, all that mattered was that he looked decent. Her things were still in the shower. His mom had heard the crashing sounds and had rushed into the bathroom, worried about his safety. She had offered to clear out the rest of the bathroom for him, except by then, he didn’t want anything else touched. She held him for a while as he had wept, shaking in her arms as he had when he was growing up. Later, she had gone out to the store and returned with toiletries for him. His things restored like they were never gone. He turned the shower on, letting the cold-water change to hot as he raised the toilet seat up to take a leak. All he had were these sounds to prove that he was still going. The silence he had cultivated in the apartment was routinely interrupted by the shower, or the stove, the coffee machine, the washing machine. If Richard didn’t have responsibilities outside the apartment, he wondered if he would even speak. He flushed the toilet and headed into the open shower, the glass wall the only barrier to the rest of the bathroom. He glanced towards the bedroom door, half expecting to see her wiggling her brows at him and making him blush. He felt his cheeks heat up, nonetheless. He washed his hands in the stream before running his wet fingers through his hair and stepping under the shower. He stood there for a while, his eyes closed once again, letting his muscles relax beneath the hot water. The heat had done its job by the time he reached for his shower gel. She had picked it out. Said she liked it when he smelt spicy. He grew to like it too and so he kept on buying it. He also liked her coconut scented shampoo, so after lathering himself with the body wash, he took the shampoo bottle off the shelf, turning it over. 12-month shelf life, it read. He did the math in his head. It was one of the last things she bought; it would be a couple of months until he should stop using it. He could hear her scolding but teasing voice as he squirted some into his palm, “Richie! Stop using my shampoo!” “I’m not!” he would have replied in a mock serious tone. “You know the scent of coconut simply follows me everywhere, just like your jackets somehow smell like my cologne.” She would have groaned playfully in response. Anyways, when they shared a shower, she would insist on using the shampoo on him herself. He stared at the silver liquid, watching it slowly spread out in his palm. His earlier thought came back. “You need to stop.” “I know,” he thought in reply, “but I can’t.” He rubbed his palms together before working the shampoo into his hair. The smell of the sweet coconut and his spicy bodywash filled the bathroom. His eyes stung but he blamed it on the soap and shampoo. He turned the shower on, alternating between scrubbing his scalp and his body. With each shower and hair wash session, part of him hoped the scents would wash down the drain with the suds, most of him was glad it didn’t. The combination was them. Richard and Mary. Spice and coconut. Richard remembered that he needed to sleep, so on his routine went. He turned off the shower, grabbed his towel and dried off from his head to his feet. He grabbed his nightwear from the small cupboard they had added to the bathroom. No more shivering to quickly grab clothes from the wardrobe after a shower. His body went through the motions. Mop the spilled water up. Put the towel on the rack and his dirty clothes in the hamper. And lastly, put the toilet seat down. There was no one to scold him about it, but old habits die hard. He turned off the bathroom light, standing at the border between it and the bedroom. The space was once again drenched in darkness, the desktop acting like a night light. The bed was illuminated, and though he knew he needed to sleep, he couldn’t move. “The couch,” he proposed to himself. But as it went every night, he knew the couch would not suffice. He took a tentative step forward. This was their marital bed. They had bought the apartment together and moved in after their honeymoon. It was the place she sought comfort after a fight. A place he craved after a long day of work. A place of love. Of passion. Of peace. It was their home within their home. Their lighthouse. His family hadn’t let him sleep in it after Mary had passed, however, after the funeral, they couldn’t keep him from it. They had no reason to. He had told them that he was fine and that he would continue to be fine. He had kept his word. He didn’t isolate himself or shut people out. But they didn’t know that this was his routine since he had come back. Slow steps towards his comfort and his sorrow. Consciously or subconsciously preparing enough for two. Switching on lights and rearranging shoes. They didn’t know that he acted like a man possessed. And so, he continued towards the mooring. Climbing aboard the warm sheets that drew his exhaustion to the surface. He plopped down, his damp hair slowly soaking the cold pillow. He rolled onto his side, an arm reaching for the empty space across from his. As clearly as always, there she was, reaching her own arm for his face. He closed his eyes as he braced for the touch. Nothing came. This time, there was no pretending that the sting in his eyes was anything but his tears. He grabbed the pillow that was hers, covered in satin to protect her curls, and drew it to himself. He pressed his face against it, breathing in the laundry detergent. Her perfumes were one of the first things to go. Her sisters had taken them, said it was for his own good. It continually took much resolve for him to not order more. He understood that keeping her pillow smelling exactly like her would be his undoing. So, he settled for the pillow itself. He wrapped both arms around it, his silent tears dampening it. The fatigue came from inside, and by the time they reached his hands, causing his grip to loosen, Richard was already asleep.

Literary Fiction+1
500

The Midnight Watch

C

cmrztrk61

The salt had worked its way into everything—the deck seams, the beef barrels, and the small space behind Harlan’s eyes where sleep used to live. He didn't need to look at the brass chronometer mounted beside his bunk to know the hour. When the frost began to bloom across the chimney of the oil lamp, turning its amber glow a pale, curdled blue, he knew it was three minutes past midnight. Outside the cabin, the Aethelgard rode a gentle swell, her oak timbers groaning in rhythm with the tide. But the sound echoing down the companionway belonged to no wave. It was the slow, wet drag of iron-shod boots over timber—stopping directly outside his door. "You're late, Julian," Harlan said. His voice was thin, scrubbed raw by three weeks of relentless offshore wind. He didn't lift his quill from the logbook. He kept his strokes even, recording latitude, wind direction, and the steadily diminishing barrels of ship's biscuit. The air in the cabin plunged, turning his breath to sudden, heavy plumes of white vapor. The scent arrived a moment later—not the clean, sharp salt of the open surface, but the heavy, suffocating reek of the deep sea: crushed kelp, rotting canvas, and cold copper. Julian had gone over the rail during the squall at the Devil’s Teeth. The fore-topgallant sheet had snapped with a sound like a pistol shot, flinging him into the black water before anyone could shout. Harlan had worn the ship around, risking the jagged reefs to search the churning white-water for three agonizing hours, but the sea had taken its tax. No body. No shroud. Only a pair of oilskin trousers left drying near the galley stove and an unpayable debt to the deep. The brass latch scraped upward with an agonizing, metallic screech. The heavy oak door swung inward, opening onto the pitch-black corridor of the lower deck. Nothing stood in the doorway, yet the draft that rolled in made Harlan’s teeth ache to the root. "We brought her into harbor yesterday, lad," Harlan said softly, setting the pen carefully into its brass inkwell. He looked directly into the frost-slicked dark of the doorway. "The anchor is down in twelve fathoms of mud. The sails are furled, and the crew is ashore at the tavern. There isn't a line left to haul." The silence stretched, tight as a hawser under strain. Then came the sound—a wet, rattled exhale, like seawater being forced through a rusted pipe. “...The watch... isn't over...” Harlan sat motionless as the cold bit through his woolen coat, sinking deep into his bones. He realized then that a haunting is not a monster born of malice or spite. It is simply a duty held too tightly—a man who died holding the line in the dark, refusing to believe his ship had ever reached the safety of the shore. Harlan pulled the logbook closer, flipped the heavy paper to a fresh page, and dipped his pen back into the slush of frozen ink. "Aye, lad," he whispered, his breath clouding in the dark as he adjusted the lamp. "Then I'll stand it with you."

Thriller+2
1000

Shiora: Before the Darkness

B

blue_birdyyy

Before the Big Storm mother who would have destroyed worlds for him. Then something took her place. His kingdom fell. His closest companions died. His people lost their home, and Crowley escaped barely alive—his body ruined and his soul shattered. Now, as the last prince of a broken kingdom, Crowley must protect what remains of his people and stop the disasters left in his mother's wake before more innocent lives are destroyed. All while searching for the truth behind one question: Can a broken prince protect everyone his mother left behind? Betrayel: "Ahhh..." Elyka smiles and sits on the ground, extending her hand. "Come," she says in the calmest, most gentle tone. Strangely, Crowley's discomfort completely vanishes, and he takes her hand. She pulls him by his shoulder close to her chest, and the two of them lie down together under the White Sun. Within moments, Crowley falls fast asleep. .... .... A nightmare swallowed him. He stood inside a ruined dungeon, wounded from countless battles. The heavy scent of blood filled the air. "LUMIE?!" She lay on the ground, trembling in terror. Before he could reach her... Everything shattered. Crowley suddenly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Elyka smiling gently at him. "Are you feeling better?" Crowley realized he no longer felt his former body weight. Looking down at his hands, he noticed his childhood size. "I guess I'm back to normal. I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble, Mother... Thank you." Elyka leans in close, kisses the top of his head, and gently begins to stroke his hair. "This is the purpose of a mother—to protect her only son through thick and thin. This is the most important thing to me. Even if I am no longer human, my love will never change. Never say such a thing again to my only son who carries my blood, please." Crowley turns his face away slightly. "Okay, Mother." A short while later, Crowley takes her hand and pulls her up. "Let's visit the training grounds. This place is boring, let's go!" As soon as he speaks, their surroundings instantly warp, and they find themselves standing in a massive, breathtaking training arena. Elyka steps away from Crowley and takes her seat upon the royal throne. "Now, Crowley, this is all well and good, but you must face your first real training session. And unfortunately, I cannot help you here." Filled with an odd sense of comfort and excitement, Crowley replies, "Okay." Elyka smiles. "It's good to see you ready, but unfortunately, it's not an opponent you'll be very happy about." Suddenly, someone manifests right behind Crowley. "But MOTHER!" Crowley screams. Elyka looks on with a hint of sadness. "Unfortunately, my son. You are my child; I wouldn't pit a mere human against you." "But Mother... in this world, that person is the closest to you—" From behind the pitch-black, featureless mask of the servant, a stark white mouth appears, grinning wildly. "AHAHAH! LITTLE PRINCE, THERE IS NO NEED TO FEAR. I WOULD NEVER HARM A HAIR ON YOUR HEAD. BUT SINCE THIS IS TRAINING, I MUST SCRATCH YOU UP A BIT!" A small wand slides out from the palm of his hand, and he hurls it toward Crowley. "I HOPE YOU HAVE STUDIED YOUR LESSONS WELL!" He snaps directly into a ready stance. Crowley takes a deep breath, focusing his entire mind on the opponent before him. He bows respectfully. "Thank you for the assistance," he says, standing back up and bracing his body in a combat stance. In Crowley's eyes, nothing exists except the faceless servant. Elyka stands up, holding a handkerchief enveloped in deep red flames, and tosses it into the air. The exact moment it hits the ground, Crowley finds himself completely paralyzed. The faceless servant simply waits. A few minutes pass in absolute silence until faint whispering voices echo through the space. "I SHALL BEGIN THEN," the faceless servant says. He advances with slow, deliberate steps. A long sword extends from beneath his hand. He drags the blade along the floor, scratching the ground with an agonizing, screeching sound as he slowly circles Crowley for a prolonged period. The only thing Crowley knows for certain is that, no matter what happens, he must not make the first move. After circling him for a moment longer, the servant completely vanishes from sight. In a flash, he thrusts from behind, targeting Crowley's neck. Crowley manages to parry the sword strike, but with blinding speed, the servant follows up with a second strike—kicking Crowley's arm hard enough to shatter it—and presses the slender, long blade directly against Crowley's throat. Elyka watches with immense stress, but she does not interfere. Crowley freezes in sheer terror. The faceless servant glides the sharp edge along his throat without cutting him. The servant's mouth reappears through the darkness, mocking him. "...IS THAT ALL?! COME ON, MOVE!" The faceless servant barks, "FINE THEN!" pulling back her sword. "MAYBE LUMIE WILL ENTERTAIN ME MORE." The instant he uttered those words, Crowley's eyes flashed a brilliant yellow. A massive explosion of light erupts where the two are standing. The servant's body is blown to pieces, and her severed head lands right at Elyka's feet. Her severed head laughed. The faceless servant's mouth is visible through his laughter as he addresses Elyka: "THAT WAS QUITE GOOD, LITTLE MASTER. IF I HADN'T TAKEN A SHORT STEP BACK EARLY ON, I MIGHT NOT HAVE REMAINED STANDING, PERHAPS." Within a single second, her entire body regenerates perfectly, and she stood back up. Crowley, beginning to laugh from the sheer shock of the event, barely manages to push himself up from the ground, completely unharmed. Elyka applauds Crowley from within the settling smoke and jumps down from the observation area. "Well done!" Elyka called out the very moment the smoke began to clear. The pride in her voice was impossible to hide. A bright, joyful smile spread across her face as she rushed across the battlefield without the slightest hesitation. The instant she reached Crowley, she happily took both of his hands. "Hahaha!" Before he could even react, she spun around together with him, laughing with genuine happiness. "I'm so proud of you!" "You did it, my son!" Crowley couldn't help laughing as well. "Hahaha! Mom!" Around and around they went beneath the White Sun, their laughter echoing across the training grounds. For those few precious moments, the fierce battle that had taken place only seconds earlier felt as though it had never existed. ... "Ahem." A familiar voice came from behind them. "LUMIE!" Crowley shouts. Breaking free from Elyka's grasp in an instant, he sprints toward Lumie. Lumie bends down with open arms, waiting to catch him. Meanwhile, Elyka stands behind him with her hand still extended, unable to speak. No matter how badly she wants to stop them from bonding, she doesn't. She kneels to the ground and covers her face with both arms. Lev quietly walked over and rested a hand on Elyka's shoulder. A faint smile crossed her lips. "...He's happy." Elyka remained silent, watching Crowley. For just a heartbeat... Her fingers slowly curled inward, as though reaching for something that wasn't there. Then they relaxed. "...That's enough." Lev's eyes briefly drifted toward Elyka's hand. She said nothing. Instead, she looked back at Crowley. "He chose to smile." Only then did Elyka smile. "...You're right," she says, standing back up. Elyka calls out to the faceless servant. He appears by her side in an instant. "YES, MY QUEEN." Elyka smiles in a slight, unsettling way. "We are going to hang out for a bit in the Kingdom of the Vampires. If things turn out like last time, know that there will be a serious problem this time." The servant bows her head low. "IT WILL NOT HAPPEN, MY QUEEN." Unsatisfied, Elyka snaps her fingers, and the two of them instantly vanish, entering a white, minimalist room. Elyka sits on the carpet while Lev pours tea at the table. "The usual strawberry cookies?" Lev asks. With a childlike smile, Elyka asks, "Are those still around?" Lev smiles back. "Yes." "Then please," Elyka says. Within a short time, Lev prepares a beautiful tea party setting and brings it to the table. Elyka says, "Thank you for your hard work," and immediately begins to eat. Lev quietly set her teacup upon the table. "...You know..." "We've shared countless meals." "Countless cups of tea." "And more years than I can remember." "I truly believed there was nothing left about you that I had yet to learn." Elyka smiled softly. "...Then why are you looking at me like that?" Lev's expression slowly faded. "...Because today..." "...I witnessed something that should never have existed." "When Crowley stood before death..." "...I wasn't watching him." "I was watching the one watching him." "The eyes looking back at him..." "...were like those of a starving wild beast watching a lone fawn." "Not with the desire to kill." "Not with the instinct to protect." "...But with a fascination that should never exist between a mother and her child." Silence... Without the slightest ripple of mana... One... Then another... Then dozens of pure white swords silently appeared around Elyka. They floated in absolute stillness, each blade pointed toward her. The room itself seemed to hold its breath. Lev slowly stood. Her voice never rose. "...Answer me." "...Who are you?" Another long silence. "...And..." "...what do you want?" Lev demanded. "Who are you?" Her voice is filled with extreme anger and disgust as she describes how Elyka looked at him. Elyka offers no answer. She merely smiles coldly and adds, "What a pity... I didn't think it would end this soon." Before Lev can even receive her answer, Elyka swiftly launches the first strike, and... SIGNAL LOST Inside a distant Kingdom, a phone rings. The faceless servant answers. A voice echoes through the receiver, sounding as if it is emerging directly from the depths of a hollow void: ​L̵ ̵E̵ ̵V̵ ̵ ̵A̵ ̵N̵ ̵D̵ ̵ ̵H̵ ̵E̵ ̵R̵ ̵ ̵K̵ ̵I̵ ̵N̵ ̵G̵ ̵D̵ ̵O̵ ̵M̵ ̵ ̵H̵ ̵A̵ ̵V̵ ̵E̵ ̵ ̵B̵ ̵E̵ ̵E̵ ̵N̵ ̵ ̵O̵ ̵B̵ ̵L̵ ̵I̵ ̵T̵ ̵E̵ ̵R̵ ̵A̵ ̵T̵ ̵E̵ ̵D̵ ̵ ̵B̵ ̵Y̵ ̵ ̵E̵ ̵L̵ ̵Y̵ ̵K̵ ̵A̵ ̵.̵ ̵.̵ ̵.̵ ̵ ̵S̵ ̵H̵ ̵E̵ ̵ ̵I̵ ̵S̵ ̵ ̵C̵ ̵O̵ ̵M̵ ̵I̵ ̵N̵ ̵G̵ ̵ ̵T̵ ̵H̵ ̵E̵ ̵R̵ ̵E̵ ̵.̵ ̵.̵ ̵. ​The audio abruptly cuts to static. ​The servant responds, "UNDERSTOOD... THANK YOU FOR THE INFORMATION." ​She immediately brings her hand to her ear, and a black liquid flows directly into her ear canal, broadcasting her voice to all channels: "ATTENTION ALL LIVING SERVANTS WHO CAN HEAR ME: LEV AND HER KINGDOM HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY DESTROYED..." He pulls her hand away from her ear. A massive panic sweeps through the kingdom. Everyone is ordered to evacuate immediately toward the alternate universe, emptying the entire country at maximum speed. The faceless servant quickly secures Elyka's most important scrolls and rushes to find Lumie. Meanwhile, Crowley and Lumie were dancing together in the room. Crowley was enthusiastically doing the robot dance. Lumie smiled. "Incredibly well done, young master!" The servant bursts into the room. "LADY LUMIE, WE NEED A SIGNATURE FOR THE SNACKS. PLEASE COME WITH ME FOR A BRIEF MOMENT." Lumie replies, "I'm coming." She raises her hand into the air, and a raven swoops down to land on it. "Play with this until I get back, please, Little Prince Crowley." But Crowley doesn't even hear her; he immediately starts petting the bird. No matter how irritated the raven is, it remains completely silent just to avoid ruining the bright smile on Crowley's face. Lumie laughs softly. "Pet him a bit more gently, young master. He looks a little too bothered," she says, slowly walking away. The faceless servant pulls her into a quiet corner. Lumie looks at him. "What happened?" THE SERVANT WHISPERS URGENTLY, "YOU MUST LEAVE FOR THE VALUVA KINGDOM IMMEDIATELY. ELYKA AND LEV'S KINGDOM HAVE FALLEN; LEV IS DEAD. WHATEVER IS CONTROLLING ELYKA IS COMING TO DESTROY THIS PLACE FOR THE EXACT SAME REASON." Upon hearing this, Lumie suddenly vomits from pure shock. However, she forces herself to stand back up, her expression turning dead serious. "Marching an army from Lev's kingdom usually takes months... but for Elyka, it might only take 15 minutes, even with our forces trying to delay her." "Understood," Lumie says, immediately rushing back to Crowley's side. Crowley carefully lifted the raven onto his shoulder. The raven remained perfectly still. Crowley narrowed his eyes. "...You're awfully serious." The raven blinked once. Crowley leaned closer and whispered, "...I know your secret." The raven slowly turned its head toward him. "...Impossible." Crowley grinned. "You stole my chocolate cookies." "...They were pistachio." Silence. Crowley's eyes slowly widened. The raven closed its eyes. "..." Crowley's grin grew even wider. "HA! You just confessed!" The raven let out a long, defeated sigh. "...I'm sorry." Crowley's face immediately lit up. "I knew you'd apologize!" The raven looked at him with complete disappointment. "...Not for stealing them." "...For never getting to eat better cookies." "...Especially the strawberry ones." "...But you always ask for pistachio." "So that's all they ever make." Crowley blinked. "...Wait... So you wanted strawberry cookies?" The raven slowly looked toward the window. "...I miss the days when princes were quiet." The doors suddenly burst open. "LITTLE PRINCE!" Lumie rushed inside, struggling to hide the panic in her eyes. Crowley immediately pointed at the raven. "Lumie! He stole my cookies!" The raven instantly flapped its wings in protest. "I DID NOT!" Lumie blinked once... then forced a smile. "...We can argue about the cookies later. We have to leave. Immediately." Crowley tilted his head. "...Leave?" Lumie gently took his hand. "We're going on a vacation." Crowley's eyes sparkled. "A vacation?" "Yes. But the carriage is about to depart. If we don't hurry, we'll miss it." Without giving him another chance to ask questions, Lumie began running while holding his hand. As they reached the doorway, Crowley suddenly stopped and looked back. "Oh!" He pointed toward the raven. "Fly as high as you can. And stay really, really far away from here." The raven tilted its head. "...Why?" "They're going to spray medicine around the kingdom. I don't want you getting covered in it." The raven looked at Crowley for a long moment. "...Very well." With one powerful beat of its wings, it shot high into the sky before disappearing into the distance. Crowley smiled brightly and waved. "See you later!" A short while later, as they passed through the escape tunnel with Crowley sitting on Lumie's shoulders, he had already realized that something was deeply wrong. However, knowing that speaking up would only upset and trouble them, he felt no need to say anything, choosing instead to cooperate quietly. Suddenly, a red-haired woman approaches from above. A servant steps out ahead of her to deliver a message. Elyka was severely wounded; her clothes were torn to shreds and soaked in blood, yet she stood perfectly upright, unwavering. As Elyka prepares to advance, the servant blocking her path declares, "THAT IS ENOUGH. YOUR ENTRY INTO THIS KINGDOM HAS BEEN FORBIDDEN." Elyka breaks into a hysterical laugh. "Whose entry is forbidden? I couldn't quite hear you," she says, laughing maniacally at her own servant's defiance. The FACELESS male servant, his mouth once again visible through the shifting darkness of his face, maintains his absolute composure. "I will not repeat myself, IMPOSTOR. You are dead to this kingdom. As long as you attempt to enter, even if you annihilate every single one of us, we will never allow you inside." A small trail of darkness whispers into Elyka's ear... Elyka's breathing grew heavier. "Where is my son?" The servant keeps his mouth tightly shut. Elyka screams once more, but this time, it is in a monstrous, aberrant pitch that sounds nothing like her own—a voice echoing from far outside her own universe: "WHERE DID I SAY CROWLEY IS, YOU SLAVE?!" The faceless male servant still does not open his mouth, completely unfazed by her reality-warping voice. In an instant, millions of tiny black fire arrows manifest behind Elyka, launching a cataclysmic assault upon the Kingdom. Last run/Just as the attack was about to begin, the faceless male servant grabbed a rare-design coin—one of the Scrolls located at the very top of the foremost tower. He flipped it into the air toward a crow. The crow caught it mid-air, spreading its wings to soar even higher, climbing into the deep reaches of the sky. At that exact moment, Elyka was fully prepared to unleash her torrential flames... Suddenly, everyone—except the servant standing right beside Elyka—slammed their feet violently against the ground. "COME HERE, VOB!" shouted the servants from every single corner of the kingdom in a thunderous unison. Looking up toward the crow in the sky... Elyka's flames instantly died out. The vibrant blue of the sky began to bleed into an absolute, pitch-black darkness. From specific coordinates across the multiverses, torrents of water began to pour down upon the earth from tiny, ruptured portals. Extremely furious, Elyka hissed, "You..." The servant standing before her smirked. "Did you seriously believe we would be the ones to stop you? Our mother... after all, we aren't even as strong as her fingernail. But we aren't brainless." A moment later... The moment a colossal portal ripped open the very fabric of the Dark Universe itself, the faceless male servant standing before Elyka slowly smiled. Only his mouth emerged from the darkness covering his face. "AHAHAHAHA!" "SO... YOU REALLY ARE JUST AS MY MOTHER DESCRIBED. HAH." He slowly raised one hand... ...and pointed straight at Elyka. "YOUR FAVORITE FRIEND HAS COME TO PAY YOU A VISIT, FAKE." A deafening roar erupted from beyond the colossal portal. The beast had found prey unlike any it had hunted in countless ages. Nothing had cast a spell. Nothing had manipulated mana. Yet... The Dark Universe itself began to change. The white sky slowly darkened into absolute blackness. The air grew unbearably heavy. Silence swallowed every sound. Countless tiny portals silently opened throughout the Dark Universe. Endless torrents of water poured from each of them, falling upon the world below. That single roar spread throughout the Dark Universe. Every kingdom... Every battlefield... Every ally... Every enemy... Every forgotten ruin... Every abyss... ...felt it. The faceless servant burst into laughter. "AHAHAHAHA!" "ENJOY YOURSELF!" Still laughing... His body slowly dissolved into black mist. His eyes never left Elyka. Only after his body had completely vanished did his laughter finally fade away. ... Elyka quietly watched him disappear. She remained unnaturally calm. She neither attacked... Nor took a single step forward. She simply stared into the colossal portal. That unnatural calmness unsettled every faceless servant witnessing the scene through his eyes. ... Far beyond the Dark Universe... Far beyond the reach of darkness itself... In a place where even reality seemed to exist upside down... Where the very laws of existence had yet to take shape... A faint chuckle echoed. "...I hope you arrive here soon, Crowley." Even an unborn Universe, still waiting for the day of its own creation, felt that quiet laugh... ... And for the very first time... Fear silently spread throughout its existence. Massive explosions and attacks, despite occurring far in the distance, could easily be felt as the entire region began to violently tremble. Lumie approached to check on Crowley, but realizing he was fast asleep, she said nothing. At that moment, ? covertly pricked Crowley from behind with a small needle to ensure he wouldn't wake up. Lumie asked, "How far?" The faceless female servant replied, "WE NEED TO GO MUCH FURTHER." The other faceless male and female servants standing beside her called out, "OUR TURN HAS COME, MOTHER. WE ARE HEADING OUT TO SUPPORT THE OTHERS." Vob would be able to stand against her for a long time, but the dark shadow beside him was about to execute something massive. They needed to hold and slow him down by any means necessary. ? whispered one final time, "GOOD LUCK TO ALL OF YOU..." An even greater collapse occurred as their surroundings slowly began to crumble into ruin. Lumie screamed: "LET'S GO!" She began to run with every ounce of her strength. After a brief moment of respite, the faceless servants also manifested into shadows, rapidly separating from one another. BUT... The dark shadow... SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST SIGNAL LOST In a flash, Lumie found herself trapped directly in Elyka's grasp. She couldn't move. Elyka laughed, ruthlessly squeezing her throat. "It's been a long time since we last met. What do you think you're doing, slave?" she sneered, tightening her grip even harder. "Did you seriously believe you could escape to Valuva before me?" Right after she said those words... Suddenly, over a million small white swords rained down directly upon Elyka. Every single one of them narrowly missed Lumie, leaving her completely untouched. The wounded ? pulled her back. When they suddenly spotted a little girl standing behind them, Lumie murmured in an incredibly low, strained voice: "Aunt Lev?!" The little girl snapped back instantly, "There's no time to talk. RUN!" Hearing this, while Elyka scrambled to deflect the incoming barrage, a small green dagger shot out from amidst the white swords within a fraction of a second. It was hurtling straight toward Lumie from an angle she couldn't possibly see. But Crowley noticed it and pushed her out of the way! Despite its small size, the dagger inflicted a massive amount of damage right across his forehead, deep enough to completely shatter both of his eyes. Furthermore, Crowley's Light of Life fell to the earth, resembling a dying moon in stark contrast to its usual sun-defying brilliance. Even though his recovery speed was normally far faster than the speed of light, this time he wasn't healing. He lay on the ground, suffering heavier damage by the second. He couldn't stand up; his consciousness was slowly fading into darkness. And in an instant, Elyka bellowed in absolute rage, "USELESS!" Just as she was about to pounce on Lumie, the little girl manifested a massive sword in mid-air, halting Elyka's advance and driving her back. A hundred more manifested right behind it. Although the little girl's entire body began to break apart at a rapid pace, she scooped up both Lumie and Crowley into her arms and began to flee at maximum speed. SIGNAL LOST ALL THE WHITE SWORDS SHATTERED IN AN INSTANT! Elyka stepped forward, closing the distance to the little girl. "So you swapped your body using the Soul Swapping technique, huh..." she mocked bitterly. "I was certain I had annihilated every last one of you. I knew I should have incinerated your bodies with fire until not even a single fingernail remained." She grew slightly irritated. When the little girl remained completely motionless for a brief moment, she demanded to know what had happened to her. Lev laughed maniacally, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Are you out of weapons?!" SIGNAL LOST Lumie was suddenly blasted far away. Her legs were in a catastrophic state; covered completely by a strange black liquid, any hope of healing was rendered utterly impossible. She lay there, broken and heavily wounded.  ? once again broken into pieces, was violently hurled against the wall. Crowley rolled off of Lumie, crashing onto the ground. Elyka approached them, a cruel laugh escaping her lips. "Lum..." Suddenly, a massive arrow manifesting the form of a colossal red phoenix erupted, completely engulfing the entire layout of the tunnel! It slammed directly into Elyka, driving her far away. The wounded Lumie crawled toward Crowley, dragging herself forward. She flung her blood-stained hand toward the shattered bodies of the ? . The tiny droplets of blood rapidly began to regenerate her. Lumie continued to crawl until she reached Crowley's side. Whispering an apology, she bit down on his throat. Crowley, whose face was completely mangled and whose condition was actively plummeting, felt the destruction slowly decelerate as his chaotic blood flow finally began to subside.  ? stood up, immediately attempting to grab both of them to escape. But Lumie cried out in sheer agony, "Go! I can't heal my leg quickly, and touching it might cause problems—it's highly likely contagious!" Within a short period of time, the distant red flame died out. A voice began to echo, screaming frantically: "Lumie!" Someone was shouting out for her. Lumie urged, "Hurry!" before adding, "I'M SORRY." Clutching Crowley, ? bolted toward the door at maximum speed. Closing the distance in an instant, Elyka materialized directly in front of Lumie out of nowhere. "Shall I tell you something funny?" she said mockingly. "If I snap my fingers right now, both of them will drop dead instantly. Would you believe me?" Lumie stared back with unyielding defiance. "Yes, but you won't be able to do it." Elyka frowned deeply. "And why is that?" From behind the shadows, a voice resembling a slithering serpent echoed as Lumie laughed. "Because I have this." It was another coin. This time, it bore the design of a crimson sword and a terrifying samurai mask. She crushed it completely between her fingers! "COME, SHINRE!" As Elyka raised her hand, a cataclysmic roar gushed down from the DARKNESS: "I won't allow it, imposter!" Arriving at the speed of light, a crow slammed into Shadow, engaging her instantly. It pinned her down, refusing to let her move even a single foot. The entire region rapidly sealed shut, transforming into a dense forest. Even when Elyka attempted to break free, Nature itself violently turned her back. Meanwhile, the crow pulled the shadow outward, keeping it completely separated from the battlefield... And in an instant, the sequence was complete. Elyka opened her eyes to find herself inside a thicket of bushes. Standing directly before her was a colossal iron grave. It possessed an incredibly ominous and terrifying appearance, adorned with a samurai mask and completely bound in heavy chains. Suddenly, a hand burst violently out from within that sealed grave! The raw power contained within completely and rapidly SHATTERED its confinement, obliterating everything holding it down. Out from the ruined structure stepped a living being donning a samurai mask. The being looked directly at Elyka and grinned. "WOW..." He unleashed a wild, maniacal laugh. "It's been a long time, my Queen, HAHAH! Or should I call you an imposter?" He raised his hand toward the sky; from within the roaring flames, a slender katana glided out. Inscribed upon its blade were the letters "MHH". He drew the katana, pointing it straight at Elyka. "It's quite rude to try to run away so early... But you should have understood that you cannot escape unless we permit it." He sniffed the air deeply. "Hah... A cheater, as always. It's blindingly obvious you didn't pull this off alone; you couldn't have broken out that fast against Vob. Let's see what you can do all by yourself without your cheats." As one of the 12 Great Dungeon Lords spoke, the mask completely fused into his face, and he began to laugh wildly. Elyka took a brief, sharp breath, closing off her mind to the world. In that exact instant, tons of crimson flames erupted from beneath the ground where Shinre stood, clawing at him from all directions. Yet, not a single ember grazed him. Shinre chuckled. With a sharp snap of his fingers, the sky underwent a cataclysmic shift. The pale, white sun vanished, replaced by a blood-red moon. "You had better pull out that little dagger of yours," Shinre mocked. As he spoke, his attire began to morph completely, bleeding into shades of deepest crimson and pitch black. Alongside his katana, MYMT, a secondary blade materialized—MSS. Sighing deeply, Elyka gripped her dagger. "A—" Before the word could even leave her lips, her cleanly severed body collapsed onto the cold ground. Sheathing his blade back into its scabbard, Shinre took a slow breath. "Magnificent... Less than a nanosecond, and you couldn't even react. Hahah." He bent down, his gaze locking onto where Elyka's head had rolled. "I am certain, Lady Valuva... I am certain she will be a mother a thousand times better than a disgusting wretch like you." As the words left his mouth, his armor suddenly cracked and shattered, sending him crashing to his knees. Elyka—her body entirely reconstituted and healed—raised her hand and ruthlessly tore through his neck. Even with his head pinned to the ground, Shinre laughed maniacally. "Ahaha! Brilliant! BRILLIANT! MAGNIFICENT! I wonder what the Big Boss would give just to see you in this state... But the funny thing is, I can do the exact same thing, you useless woman!" he roared. Behind her, another Shinre materialized, thrusting his blade straight for her throat. Elyka caught it with her bare hand. But suddenly, multiple clones struck from every conceivable direction, ripping her apart. Yet, as soon as they did, their bodies vanished, their armor shattering to pieces as they hit the ground. Elyka blinked. In front of her, behind her, to her left, and to her right—over a hundred clones of Shinre stood surrounding her. Shinre grinned. "Let's see how long you can last in my playground, you so-called Goddess of Darkness!" In unison, they all lunged at her. Meanwhile, inside the tunnel, the Shadow was in an utterly wretched state. "ENOUGH!" it bellowed, trapping the Crow from every angle. Yet, the radiant phoenix struck once more, driving the Shadow back. The Crow flew directly to the mangled, broken form of Lumie. "Are you seriously still on your feet, crazy girl?" the Crow squawked frantically. "Get away from me right now..." Lumie whispered, her voice fading. "Go to Crowley. It's safer there." "If I were human right now, I would slap you across the face! Thank your stars I'm a crow," the Crow snapped back. "We've blasted that phoenix over a hundred times, but it just keeps regenerating. No matter how many times it's torn apart, the Light of Fire isn't enough to obliterate it. How is this even possible?!" Suddenly, the cry of the phoenix ceased entirely. "LUMIE, LEAVE NOW!" a voice commanded. "No!" the Crow began to argue, but before another word could be spoken— SIGNAL LOST "Ah, why didn't I think of this sooner?" a twisted voice muttered. "Ah... controlling a dead body is so much easier. How sweet." The entity glanced down at Lumie and Crowley. With a sharp snap of its fingers, a swirling shroud of shadows enveloped them both, vanishing them from existence. "SIGNAL CONTINUE," the voice declared, snapping its fingers once more. "Ah, I forgot about the useless Queen. She must still be inside the sphere," it murmured, surveying the area. It picked up a crystalline sphere from the ground, wrapping its fingers tightly around it. Within moments, the sphere began to crack and splinter. Elyka burst out from within, coughing violently. "You're late," Elyka spat. "Forgive me, MY QUEEN," the Shadow replied smoothly. "Let us go and save your son." With those words, the Shadow detached itself from the girl's vessel and wrapped entirely around Elyka. ? finally breached the deepest, most subterranean cavern beneath the earth. A profound, pitch-black abyss. She bolted downward, but through the warped physics of the space, her perspective made it feel as though she were climbing upward. "FINALLY!" she cried out, accelerating. As she plunged deeper into the inversion, she spotted the Inverted Door positioned at the very apex of the ceiling. SIGNAL LOST Clutching Crowley tightly in her arms, ? suddenly plummeted straight down into the vast, gaping void beyond the staircase. "Finally, my headaches are gone," Elyka muttered with relief. But the moment the words left her lips, a colossal spear lunged from behind the door, impaling her straight through the shoulder. This spear was an artifact completely unknown, never before seen by a single soul within the Dark Universe. But Elyka knew exactly what it was. Before a scream could tear from her throat, ? materialized out of nowhere. Gathering every ounce of her remaining energy, she delivered a devastating, brutal blow directly to the locus where Elyka's Sha soul resided. Immediately after, as they fell through the void, bizarre entities wearing distinct, anomalous masks opened the door from the other side. They dragged Crowley and ? inside. They spoke in an incomprehensible, ancient tongue, gesturing with their hands for them to enter. The two quickly scrambled inside, and the door slammed shut. In an instant, the door and the entire space surrounding it collapsed into nothingness. The moment they crossed the threshold, their surroundings spun violently before the heavily distorted environment snapped into a pristine, normal reality. High up in the sky, a colossally massive, mystical Eye manifested. Standing directly atop it was a Sovereign Being. Its form was incomprehensibly beautiful, yet its eyes were entirely hollow, devoid of anything recognizable. The entity leaped down from the Eye, landing gracefully right in front of them. Spreading its arms wide with a serene smile, it looked at the two of them. "Welcome." The faceless servant bowed her head deeply. "PLEASE, MILADY..." "It is fine," Valuva sighed softly. "I did what I could, stripping away the weight of time from the little prince. Yet, there are things even I cannot undo. Elyka's dagger... it is a weapon of absolute annihilation, specifically forged with the power to slay its own master. I possess no authority to mend a broken soul, even if I can control fate and space-time." "IS THERE A WAY?" ? pressed, her voice unwavering. "WHATEVER IT TAKES, MILADY." With a sorrowful look, Valuva delivered the grim truth. "You must die." A heavy silence fell over them. "Though the wound from Elyka's dagger is physically minor, its strike carries a curse capable of unraveling even me upon contact. One of the reasons Crowley hasn't perished outright is because he shares her lineage. Elyka escaped with minimal backlash, but that single strike is enough to utterly erase him." "HOW WILL MY DEATH SAVE HIM, THEN?" ? asked. Valuva's tone grew increasingly solemn. "It is not a total death. I cannot restore his physical vessel to what it was—his eye is gone, his old face cannot be mended. But we can anchor his soul to his body. If you surrender your Sha—the vital essence that keeps you anchored—he will endure. An ordinary servant's Sha would instantly shatter under the strain, but because you are their Mother, your Sha is potent enough to sustain him." The dark shroud covering the servant's face shifted slightly, faintly revealing her mouth. "WILL THIS ABSOLUTELY KEEP HIM ANCHORED?" "I cannot say for certain," Valuva admitted, her eyes deepening as entire universes began to glimmer with blinding clarity within them. "But I can promise you this: he will see tomorrow." The faceless servant stepped toward Crowley's prone body. As she prepared to touch her own chest to extract her essence, she whispered softly, "You will not die." "But you will no longer exist as a separate entity either," Valuva added quietly. "From this moment forth, you shall eternally be one with Crowley." ? smiled beautifully through the fading darkness of her features. "Thank you." She leaned down, the dark shroud completely lifting to reveal a cascade of long black hair and a serene countenance. She gently kissed Crowley's forehead. Then, plunging her hand directly into her own chest, she forcefully tore her Sha from her being. Her physical form immediately began to crack and splinter into countless fragments as the brilliant mass of energy separated from her. Her final words echoed softly through the chamber: "I trust you, my Queen." Valuva caught the glowing Sha in her hand. Pressing her finger lightly onto its surface, she drew a substance resembling black-and-white blood from her own hand and rubbed it into the core of the essence. Swiftly and powerfully, she drove the Sha deep into Crowley's chest, right over his heart. Within seconds, his physical vessel underwent a violent, chaotic transformation, but the horrific decay abruptly ceased. Valuva smiled with a bittersweet, melancholy warmth. "He accepted the soul... thanks to my blood, Servant..." "Soldiers!" Valuva barked, her voice echoing through the grand expanse. "Place the boy in one of the guest chambers within my personal quarters. And station Mari by his side. It is best to have someone brimming with positive energy monitoring his state." From the ranks, a towering entity donning a black dragon mask stepped forward and bowed seamlessly. ** Another soldier spoke up, their words heavily distorted through their mask. * ***  "Elyka cannot breach this realm, that is true," Valuva replied. "But that does not mean she will refrain from tearing down the rules to achieve her ends. She has completely lost her mind." A wave of righteous fury rippled through the ranks as the remaining soldiers raised their weapons, letting out deafening battle cries. "You cannot claim your vengeance," Valuva cut them down with her glare. "If you march out blindly, who knows what deceptive trick she will deploy to wipe you out, and your sacrifices will be utterly meaningless." Looking upon the overwhelming grief and anger etched into the faces of her army, Valuva let out a long, weary sigh. "I know, my friends. Elyka was my companion since the very beginning. But as you well know, she has always been consumed by greed—a monster through and through." She looked down toward the floor. "No matter what I do, it is in vain. Unless the Eye permits it, the true fate it desires must unfold: Crowley will kill Elyka, destroying his own soul in the process to wipe them both out forever. But unfortunately, neither I nor any of you can deliver the final blow. Only the one lying right there can achieve it. According to the Eye's will, fate shall manifest this way." The soldiers stirred, their voices rising in frustrated disbelief. "This is the decree of the Eye, and so it shall be woven into the tapestry of fate, whether we accept it or not!" Valuva stated, her voice filled with an intense blend of anger and sorrow. "I answer only to its guidance. It is time you all understand that the Eye is omnipotent and all-seeing, far surpassing even myself." The atmosphere suddenly fractured as a booming, primordial resonance filled the chamber. "THAT IS ENOUGH. EVERYONE, RETURN TO YOUR DUTIES," The Eye commanded. "TRANSPORT CROWLEY TO HIS QUARTERS. MARI, YOU BEAR THE RESPONSIBILITY. YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT PROTOCOLS TO EXECUTE FROM PREVIOUS PATIENTS SHOULD HE LOSE CONTROL OR SCREAM." Valuva raised her hand. "What are you waiting for?" With a sharp snap of her fingers, she warped everyone back to their designated stations across the cosmos. Left entirely alone within the silent void alongside the massive, hovering entity, Valuva let out a soft chuckle. "Were you truly serious when you said that?" "YES," the Eye resonated. "THE IMPOSTER KNOWN AS THE GODDESS OF DARKNESS, ELYKA, WILL MEET HER ULTIMATE END AT THE HANDS OF HİS SON, CROWLEY. SHE WILL BE ERASED WITH NO CHANCE OF EVER RETURNING, FOR ALL ETERNITY. BUT IN EXCHANGE, THE YOUNG PRINCE'S SOUL MUST BE FORFEITED TO UTTERLY DESTROY THEM BOTH IN THE FUTURE." "Why can I not simply slaughter her the moment she steps within my reach?" Valuva questioned. "Those greedy fools will inevitably attack this place sooner or later. That way, the kingdom stands secure, avoiding total collapse, and there is no need for such absurd sacrifices." "IF ELYKA MARCHES TO BATTLE YOU, KNOW THAT SHE ALREADY HAS A PLAN IN MIND TO NEUTRALIZE YOU. SHE COMES RELYING ON THAT. EVEN IF YOU CLAIM YOU WILL TEAR HER TO PIECES, IT REMAINS AS TRUE AS 1 × 0 = 0, JUST AS '1 × ∞ = ∞' EQUALS INFINITY." Valuva frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" "THE TIME FOR WORDS HAS CONCLUDED. RETURN TO YOUR POST." Before she could utter another syllable, Valuva was instantaneously teleported back to the grand throne of her celestial palace. Leaning deep into the cushions, she closed her eyes. Slowly, the massive throne room began to shrink, compressing and becoming one with her consciousness—merging completely into the Void Universe as her physical form became one with the cosmos.

Fantasy+9
700

La Sociedad de la Luz -y la búsqueda hacia la verdadera iluminación-

L

light

En la tierra donde hace tiempo la oscuridad no existe y la sociedad de la luz asciende, las torres se elevan buscando rasgar las grisáceas nubes que recubren con su manto las calles rotosas y mojadas, como si de una sábana de seda se tratasen. En esta tierra donde la luz siempre se encuentra presente y los individuos se mueven de lado a lado buscando escapar del absurdismo de la cotidianidad, una solitaria alma en pena se encuentra observando con indiferencia, y cierto cansancio, desde el balcón de su habitación hacia una ciudad nocturna repleta de vehículos en movimiento. La pobre alma se retuerce mientras ve pasar los segundos como si no valieran, el reloj avanza, y su mirada sigue, la manija marca las cuatro mientras el joven de alma solitaria y aspecto deteriorado, mira la altura que lo separa de esta sociedad asocial, la misma altura que separa a un futuro prometedor, lleno de oportunidades, del encuentro con la verdadera luz creadora del ser, que juzga a los pecadores, una luz rodeada de un misterio que incontables religiones han tratado de nombrar y sacar provecho. Mientras esta reflexión vagaba por los rincones de su mente, fluyendo como fluyen los ríos hacia el mar naciente, o flotando como flotan las ideas de vez en cuando, el joven se vio interrumpido, algo incomprensible acababa de suceder frente a sus ojos color almendra. En la ciudad de la sociedad de la luz, donde hace tantísimos años la oscuridad había sido erradicada por el progreso, ese que tanto nos da y tanto nos quita, como si de sacrificios por un supuesto futuro mejor se tratasen estos cambios. Una torre se había apagado, uno de los gigantes de cemento y cristal había perdido la luz de su existencia y ahora solo quedaba su oscura figura, como un manchón en la iluminada ciudad. De pronto, los vehículos en movimiento se frenaron, los individuos que se movían de lado a lado dejaron de escapar, el reloj pareció dejar de avanzar, y las gotas de lluvia parecieron dejar de caer solo para observar el fenómeno de la oscuridad, un concepto perdido del cual no quedaba rastro, pero que ahora se encontraba mostrándose con un enorme esplendor hacia una multitud anonadada, que miraba perdida como si la brújula que los guiaba se hubiera roto en mil pedazos en una décima de segundo. El joven también miraba fijamente hacia la oscuridad, sus pupilas parecían por primera vez dilatarse buscando, aunque sonara tan tonto, la luz. Mientras observaba fascinado hacia esta oscuridad, dejando que alimentara sus pensamientos, lo que había parecido un fenómeno único, se transformó en solo el principio de lo que sería el final de la sociedad de la luz. En un instante todos los gigantes se apagaron y la oscuridad invadió por completo la ciudad, una oscuridad negra como ninguna otra, una oscuridad invasiva que no perdona y se lleva todo rastro que haya quedado alguna vez de esa luminosidad que había reinado por tanto tiempo. Cuando la población entró en pánico y el joven comenzaba a preocuparse sobre lo que sucedía a su alrededor, silenciosa y lentamente, unos destellos comenzaron el festival de fuegos artificiales que venían desde el cielo en búsqueda de entretener a los apocalípticos espectadores entre los cuales reinaba el caos, ese caos que reinó en los momentos finales de las antiguas civilizaciones mientras se derrumbaban después de haber estado por tanto tiempo firmes, las estrellas mismas bajaban del cielo para mostrarle a las almas lo que era la verdadera luz, la cual se posaba sobre la ciudad, iluminando de verdad, no como lo hacían los gigantes cuya luz solo traía más oscuridad al ser y dejaba una existencia vacía a los individuos, mostrándose como la luz creadora, como la luz que tanto adoraban los religiosos, llegó a los ojos del joven estupefacto el cual hace unos segundos se sentía tan cansado, pero que con la llegada de la oscuridad logró ver la verdadera iluminación y dejarse llenar por la luz creadora, abrazando su manto y calentándose con su brillo intenso. La solitaria alma en pena dejó su indiferencia, con la oscuridad desapareció el cansancio y los segundos comenzaron a valer, el reloj finalmente marcó las cinco, el cielo comenzó a aclararse, las estrellas se retiraron lentamente así como se retira el circo luego de haber dado su gran espectáculo, y con ello se marcó el fin de la oscuridad por esa noche, aunque ahora sí podría volver cada tanto alguna que otra noche para alimentar a los soñadores y pensadores, individuos a los cuales solo la verdadera luz puede alimentar y a los gigantes buscan combatir. FIN

2200

Eternal Love haunts the past

A

adnan_me

"You smell like lavender." "And you smell like me." A hard knock on the front door, followed by few soft knocks. The interruption erases the smirk on Josh. Lily bursts out and consoles him. Josh quickly gets out of the bed and walks down the stairs. The knock continues. He carefully opens the door to face an old lady. She looks very familiar but he cannot remember her. She watches Josh for a good few seconds and politely says Hello. "My car broke down. It's very cold right now. I was just wondering If I could stay inside your house until morning. I apologize for the intrusion." Lily walks down slowly behind Josh. Josh takes a few moments to consider. Seeing she is an old lady he agrees. Lily comes behind him and greets her. A thought briefly crosses her mind. She looks almost like her mother. "Thank you so much. I cannot thank you enough.". She sits on the couch as Lily brings her some water. "I am going to the next town to meet my son. They are having a baby." She expresses gratitude for letting her stay. "Don't worry about it. Have you been here before?" "Yes. Actually , I used to live here." "What an coincidence!" Lily sits down. "I am sorry. Do you happen to have anything for a headache? I just had a long drive." "Sure." Josh stands up and heads for the bedroom. "I am really sorry for troubling you." Lily assures her it's no problem. Josh walks up the stairs as they continues talking. He notices a tattoo on her arm. An exact duplicate of what Lily has. What a freaky coincidence he thinks. He finds the medicine for headache besides the bottles of prenatal vitamins. He grabs some medicine and heads down. Their talking has become quiet for a while. As he walks down the stair, he freezes. The old lady has a gun on Lily's head. She points her to come down slowly. Before he could comprehend the situation, he follows her order. "I am sorry I had to do this to you Josh." Suddenly Josh starts feeling dizzy. He falls on the floor. He observes as the old lady does something to Lily. She looks weak lying on the sofa. He tries to crawl with his hand. The old lady caresses Lily's face. She slowly takes of Lily's shirt. Lily looks unconscious. The dizziness won't go away. Josh can hear his heartbeat. The old lady takes a knife out and carves something on Lily's chest. There is a knock on the door. Rapid and hurried. The old lady seems unfazed as he brims closer to stabbing Lily's heart. The door breaks open. A bearded man hurries inside. "Josh!" The old lady screams. "But you died. I buried you." "Not yet Lily." "You don't have to do this." "But this is the last sacrifice. After this we can be together forever." "No. Lily! We will not. The ritual won't work." "It will ! Grandma wouldn't deceive me." "She already has Lily. You killed your daughter. Our daughter!" "The knife fell from her hand." Josh still half conscious, climbs himself toward unconscious Lily. "You are wrong Josh. I must finish what I started." The old man runs toward her as she grabs the knife to stab Lily on the couch. Josh from behind jumps from the floor and pull her leg. She drops on the floor head first. His mind is still hazy. He sees the knife and the old lady tries grabbing it. Josh grabs the knife and stabs her. She screams in agony. He stabs her multiple times before passing out. Josh doesn't know how long he has been unconscious. Lily wakes him up. She is shaking. The body of the old lady is still on the floor but it looks like a corpse. They are both shaking. Josh tries to console Lily. Lily grabs him tightly, tighter than she ever has. "I was scared! I love you Josh. I didn't want to leave you. I want to spend forever with you." Josh kisses her. "I love you too Lily. Nothing would ever make us apart." The warmth of their body strangles their thoughts. For a brief moment, they forget about the night. The essence of the night remains.

Horror+6
1200

1 / 7