Raen's eyes stung, blood rushing through the capillaries as the seconds stretched like needles. He didn't blink. Couldn't blink. The thing behind them never breathed, never shifted. It only existed, and that was enough.
His voice was hoarse from dryness. "Still there. It's still—"
"I've got an idea," Selene cut in sharply. "Hold tight."
The tunnel split ahead, a jagged fork where darkness swallowed both paths. Without warning, Selene's shadow bolted left, dragging Raen with it. The shift pulled the entity from his line of sight.
And then—
It was in front of them.
Raen's stomach lurched. The creature didn't run, didn't step—it was. One moment it wasn't, and the next, it stood directly in their way, its five long arms stretched out across the width of the tunnel like broken pillars, the faintest glimmer of amusement in its dead-white eyes.
"Shit," Raen muttered. "Turning doesn't work, it—it doesn't care about direction. It just appears."
Selene skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with one of the outstretched limbs. "So what then?! You want to stare at this thing forever?!"
"I'm blinking once every two minutes," he hissed, eyes twitching from the effort. "That's all I can afford. I can feel my eyes burning. I don't know how long I can keep this up."
This thing doesn't just bend rules. It doesn't have any.
The being tilted its head, curious, as if savoring the tension. It didn't move. Not yet.
Raen's chest heaved with each breath, the heat of Selene's shadow coiling beneath him like coals.
"We can't fight it," he said lowly. "And we can't outrun it, not like this."
Selene gritted her teeth. "Then we need another idea."
Or we die right here, staring death in the face like cowards with their eyes wide open.
It had been nearly thirty minutes.
Raen's vision had turned to liquid static, every breath he took rattling like a rusted chain. His throat burned, his back ached, and his eyes—his eyes felt like they were grinding into dust, like the lids themselves were made of stone and every second was a chisel prying them open.
And still, he did not blink.
The creature hadn't moved. Not truly. It only watched back.
Then, with slow and silent grace, the thing raised its hand.
The air howled. A gust hit Raen like knives. His hair whipped around his face, dust sliced at his skin, and the worst of it—all of it—was in his eyes. He couldn't close them, couldn't shield them. His scream was caught halfway, a gasp strangled in grit and wind.
No no no—!
His eyes fluttered.
Just once.
And the thing was there.
Its face was inches away. No breath, no scent, just the unbearable knowing—that it had chosen this, that it had let him last this long. It smiled again, the kind of smile only monsters wore.
The wind slammed again.
Raen screamed this time, a full, cracked shriek, raw from pain and horror. His eyes flared red, bloodshot, tears pouring not from grief but from agony.
"Selene—!"
He couldn't see her.
I'm not going to make it—I can't—I can't—I—
Another gust tore through, and he screamed again, louder this time, as if the act could keep his eyelids open, as if pain was the only anchor left holding him to life.
The third gust was worse than the last.
Raen's mouth tore open in a scream so hoarse and ragged, it no longer sounded human. It was pain, desperation and fire, all thrown into the air like broken glass. His fingers clawed at nothing, his legs kicked reflexively, trying to find some anchor against the wind.
And then—
The being laughed.
Not loud. Not cruel. Just soft, like wind over bones, like someone remembering something horrible and smiling at the taste of it.
Then it moved.
A ripple in the dark, a blink of reality.
Its five pale arms burst from the floor, dragging themselves up through Selene's own shadow.
"What the hell—!" Raen shouted, just as the creature lunged, grabbed him like a toy, and hurled him sideways.
Stone cracked.
The wall caught him with full force. His ribs screamed, the air left his lungs in a thunderclap, and the floor spun under him. Pain webbed through his body, sharp and full, and real.
He coughed, rolled, stared up—and the thing wasn't looking at him anymore.
It was standing, tall and silent, beside Selene.
Still smiling.
"You moved," Raen growled, voice shaky, spitting blood from his lip. "You…" he staggered to his knees, "You fucking moved—I was looking at you—"
He felt rage twist in his chest, not just at the pain but at the impossibility of it, at the betrayal of even the one rule they thought they understood.
Selene, silent, turned her eyes to the creature. Her voice was lower than usual, flat, a shade colder than the fire she usually wore.
"…Then it's not bound by sight," she said. "It was pretending."
Raen's mind reeled. He gritted his teeth, pushing against the wall to rise.
Selene extended her arm, calling another shadow from the cracks beneath her boots. It started to rise—tall and jagged, shaped like something that could fight back.
But the creature was faster.
Its arm snapped forward, and before Raen could blink, its hand was around Selene's throat.
It lifted her like she weighed nothing.
She kicked, spat, tried to send the shadow forward again—but it laughed, low and breathy, and threw her.
Her body slammed into the far wall, leaving a web of cracks and a trail of red.
"No!" Raen lurched forward, but pain rooted him to the floor.
Selene staggered, barely on her feet. Blood poured from her nose, her mouth, her scalp. She tried to raise her hands, to form a weapon, a shield, anything—but the thing reached her again. And this time, it didn't throw her.
It beat her.
One hit across the face, another to the stomach, then again, and again. Her body crumpled with every blow, bones crunching under the soundless laughter of the monster.
By the time she fell, she wasn't Selene anymore.
Not the same confident smirk, not the sharp gaze or mocking words. Her eyes were dim, and her face was almost unrecognizable—smeared with blood, swollen, broken.
Raen couldn't take it.
He screamed, his throat raw with something deeper than fear—rage, desperation, loss all burning in his lungs.
"Stop!" he shouted, voice cracking apart, "Let her go, damn you! Let us live! Let us be happy! Just—just stop!"
But the thing didn't stop.
It only turned to him, smiling wider than before, as if the pain had always been the point.
Raen's scream echoed through the cavern, raw and pleading, his voice cracking apart.
"Let her go!" he shouted again, "Please, just stop—stop it—"
But the creature only turned its gaze to him, all five of its arms moving in slow, deliberate rhythm like it was savoring every second. Selene groaned weakly beneath its grip, her head sagging, her body limp.
Then—
Crack.
One hand twisted sharply, the sound like dry wood snapping. Her spine. Her neck.
Raen's world went silent.
"No—" he breathed, "No, no, no—" He threw himself forward, his legs dragging useless behind him. He clawed at the ground, nails breaking, body trembling, pulling himself toward them. Toward her.
The creature didn't flinch.
It raised her corpse, gripped by the collarbone, then in one sweeping motion tore her head off. Her blood sprayed across the wall, hot and red and final.
Raen screamed again, a sound that didn't even sound human anymore.
And then, the being tossed Selene's head.
It bounced once on the ground, then rolled, strands of white hair streaked in red, before stopping inches from Raen's hands.
He stared at it, eyes wide, lips trembling. She was still looking at him—eyes open, mouth slack, as if frozen mid-breath.
The creature approached with heavy steps, slow and taunting, and crouched just before him. Its face hovered inches from Raen's, that smile carved across its face like something never meant to move.
"I was just playing earlier," it said, voice like boiling pitch, cold and wet.
Then it pointed to the severed head.
"Eat it."
Raen's body moved on instinct, screaming at the top of his lungs, and bit down—not on the head, but on the creature's leg. His teeth sank into flesh, iron-like, and blood spilled in thin streams. But the thing didn't care. It didn't even look down.
It only laughed.
Raen didn't stop screaming.
He slammed his fists against the stone floor, over and over until skin split and knuckles turned to ruin. Then he slammed his head down too, forehead cracking against the ground, once, twice, again—again—until his vision blurred and the pain dulled everything else.
"Bring her back!" he howled, "You said it was a game—you said—"
The creature only tilted its head, five arms dangling like loose threads, its grin impossibly wide.
"Dirt sings when it's soaked in grief," it said, voice echoing like wind in a tomb. "Did you know that, little contender? Did you know your sorrow has taste?"
Raen coughed through blood, hands clawing the ground, nails filled with stone dust and his own flesh.
"Stop talking. Just—kill me. Stop talking and kill me already!"
The being leaned closer.
"I am not death, boy. I am the silence after. I am what remains when memory refuses to die. I am the ash that forgets to fall."
Raen's breathing was shattered glass.
The thing knelt, placing one cold finger against his forehead.
"And you, Raen Solmere… you are going to listen to every scream this kingdom ever held. One by one."
Raen's breath caught in his throat. Blood dripped from his mouth. His vision swam. He didn't even know if he was alive anymore.
He couldn't feel his legs, couldn't feel anything but his jaw, clenched so tightly it hurt, and his heart, pounding like a war drum in the ruins of his chest.
The creature was still smiling, tilting its head like it was waiting for a song to start.
Raen spat to the side, blood and spit and fury.
Then he whispered, barely audible at first, "If you don't kill me…"
His voice cracked. Then came again, louder.
"…I'll kill you."
He looked up, head trembling, lips twitching in rage.
"If you don't kill me, I'll kill you."
The thing didn't laugh this time.
"I'll kill you," Raen whispered, again and again, as if reciting prayer, a curse, a lullaby made from hate. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you. Over and over. Over and over. I'll find you, in every world, in every ash-covered field, in every scream you've ever buried—I'll find you. I'll kill you."
His voice grew quiet, but never soft.
"Over and over. Until your name doesn't mean fear. Until you forget how to laugh."
He pressed his bloodied forehead to the ground.
"Over and over," he said again, "until the world forgets you ever smiled."
Raen's head throbbed from the repeated slamming, his voice broken into gravel and breath. His chest rose and fell like something was dying inside it—because something was.
His words had dulled to a whisper now, throat scraped raw:
"…over and over…"
Then—
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
TRAIT FRAGMENT [THRONE REFUSER] — ACTIVATING.
You have rejected the rule of fear.
You have refused the will of thrones.
Wager irregularity detected. Interference nullified.
[Fragment Stabilized: Throne Refuser - Tier Shard]
— You cannot be forced to kneel.
— You will not recognize the power of kings.
— Presence-based manipulation disabled for 60 seconds.
Raen didn't even register the glow around him. His fists were still balled, his forehead bleeding against stone.
Then the thing paused, halfway through a grin.
And vanished.
No sound, no smoke. Just absence. Like it had never existed. Like reality had just blinked and decided to fix itself.
Raen blinked, too. For the first time in what felt like hours.
His hands trembled as they pressed into the ground. The tunnel was still again. The only sound left was the soft crackle of dying fire and the slow drip of blood from a figure not breathing anymore.
He turned, weak, aching—
And saw her.
Her body still, eyes glassy, too far gone for pain or peace.
Only silence remained.