The boy’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Oh, really?
Now that’s something I wanna hear.”
The voice replied in an even, almost casual tone.
“Yes, yes.
But you’ll have to brave the abyss and survive until we reach the magic circle.”
The boy smiled with newfound confidence.
“Don’t worry.
I’ve seen and been through worse.”
With that, he began walking in a completely random direction.
After a few moments, he coughed nervously.
“Uhh… so, do you actually know where I’m supposed to go?”
The voice answered with a hint of amusement.
“The abyss ignores the concept of direction.
Fortunately, I can sense the faint magical particles being emitted by the magic circle.”
A brief pause.
“So, I’ll subtly shift your body toward them.”
The boy felt a small flame of hope ignite within his chest.
“Alright, then.
Let’s go.”
And just like that, the two continued through the endless darkness.
A few hours passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.
The boy remained submerged in darkness, walking across the cold marble floor with nothing but the mysterious voice accompanying him.
A voice that claimed to be a remnant of an “Old One.”
Whatever the hell an Old One was.
Every time the boy tried to think about it, his theories eventually reached a dead end.
None of it made sense.
He eventually gave up trying to understand it.
As he continued walking, the voice suddenly spoke inside his mind.
“It seems your body has almost completely healed.”
The boy immediately frowned.
“Why the hell are you looking at my body, you creep?”
The voice suddenly burst into laughter.
It laughed so hard that the boy could practically feel its amusement echoing through his mind.
“My, it’s been a while since I’ve laughed like that.”
A brief pause.
“Twice, as a matter of fact.”
The boy smirked.
“What can I say?
I get it from—”
He suddenly stopped himself.
“Ah, what the hell?
Why do I keep saying that?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t get it from anybody.
I’m just naturally funny.”
The voice responded in a noticeably more joyous tone.
“Funny people die most of the time.”
The boy shot back immediately.
“Well, look at me.
Healthy and alive.”
The voice went silent for a moment.
“I don’t know about that.”
The boy’s smile faded slightly.
“Your soul is slightly tainted by corruption…”
Another pause.
“And your mind has been faintly altered by madness.”
The boy pouted.
“Oh, well.
I’ll tell you right now that I’m completely fine.”
For once, the voice didn’t respond.
Their little conversation came to an end.
Then, roughly twenty meters ahead of the boy, something appeared in the darkness.
A wooden sign.
Strange crimson letters had been carved into its surface.
The boy tilted his head.
“The hell is this?”
He approached the sign cautiously and examined the unfamiliar writing.
“Hey, I have no clue what this says.
Try translating it for me.”
The voice spoke through his mind.
“How did you know I could read that?”
The boy smiled.
“I’m good at guessing.”
The voice gave a quiet, amused chuckle.
“Well, if you really want to know, it says…”
The voice suddenly stopped.
The boy’s expression changed.
He looked into the darkness ahead.
Something had moved.
Or perhaps…
Something had been watching him.
The boy couldn’t tell which.
Ever since he had landed in the abyss, there had been another presence lingering somewhere around him.
Apart from the comforting presence of the enigmatic voice, there was something else.
Something so faint that he could barely sense it.
But it was there.
He was certain of it.
And now…
It seemed whatever had been hiding in the darkness was finally ready to reveal itself.
The boy remained calm.
He narrowed his eyes and slowly began taking steps backward.
Then—
WHOOSH.
The wooden sign suddenly erupted into crimson flames.
The fire consumed it in seconds, reducing the strange writing and ancient wood to nothing.
A voice echoed through the darkness.
It wasn’t the voice the boy had become accustomed to.
This one was foreign.
Unfamiliar.
Almost incomprehensible.
It sounded like someone mumbling words from a language that had never been meant for human ears.
The boy stared forward.
And then, from the darkness…
An old man stepped into view.
He had short white hair, an ivory-colored tunic, and upon his head rested a tenebrous crown that seemed to radiate an aura of ancient dread.
The boy tilted his head.
“An old man?”
He blinked.
“What the hell is an old man doing in the abyss?”
The old man continued walking toward him.
As he drew closer, the boy finally began making out the words he was muttering.
“Along the bloody shore, the cloud waves break apart…”
“The twin red suns sink beneath the lake…”
“The fallen ones grow and lengthen across the motherlands…”
“Strange is the absence of light where the great ones rise…”
“And strange crimson moons circle through the darkness…”
“But stranger still are the lost wanderers…”
“Songs that the creatures shall sing…”
“Where flap the tatters of the queen…”
“Must die unheard in the dim, lightless home…”
“Song of my soul…”
“My voice is dead…”
“Die thou, unsung…”
“As tears unshed shall dry in the lightless home…”
The boy didn’t understand a single word.
Yet something about those words made his instincts scream.
A strange terror crawled through him.
The same feeling he had experienced countless times before.
The feeling of death approaching.
The old man finally stopped mumbling.
He looked directly at the boy.
A smile slowly formed across his face.
Then he approached.
“Oh, young one…”
His raspy voice seemed to make the very air around them tremble.
“You seem lost.”
The boy stopped retreating.
For a moment, time itself seemed to slow.
His mind wandered back to everything he had seen.
The gods were dead.
Humanity was gone.
Everything he had ever known had been reduced to nothing.
And now…
For the first time since waking in this nightmare, he was looking at another human being.
Or at least…
Something that looked human.
Because nothing was truly human in the abyss.
Nothing was sane.
The abyss was nothing more than another hell, a place inhabited by things that should never have existed.
And now his fate seemed to twist once again.
The old man stood directly before him.
He reached out.
His ancient hand gently rested upon the boy’s shoulder.
The old man smiled.
“You come here often?”
The boy’s mind went completely blank.
There was only one thought left.
Run.
Escape.
Get the hell away from him.
But his body wouldn’t move.
He couldn’t run.
He couldn’t fight.
He was powerless.
Then the old man’s body began to change.
His human form distorted into something grotesque and impossible, a mass of writhing tentacles and unnatural limbs.
Strange mouths opened across his body, while enormous hands made entirely of darkness emerged from the shifting mass.
The tentacles wrapped around the boy’s legs and torso.
The shadowy hands seized his arms.
Then, with effortless strength, they lifted him from the marble floor.
The boy’s eyes widened.
For once…
He had absolutely nothing to say.
The voice finally spoke inside his mind.
“Well…”
A pause.
“You’re undeniably fucked.”