Silence held the world in its grip.
It wasn't the silence of peace.
It was silence that came before oblivion.
The moment Saintess Jean dropped to her knees, time itself seemed to shudder, and then, the rest of the world followed.
The soldiers behind her, who had only just glimpsed at the boy wrapped in ungodly energy, began to collapse one after the other.
It started with the youngest.
A fresh recruit, barely eighteen, clutched his chest as his eyes rolled back. His lips moved soundlessly, as if trying to scream something he no longer remembered.
He fell face first into the dirt, lifeless before he hit the ground.
Another stumbled backward, froth spilling from his mouth. His gaze turned glassy as a whimper escaped his throat.
A moment later, he too fell, heart ruptured from sheer metaphysical terror.
A dozen more collapsed like puppets with their strings severed.
Some convulsed.
Some simply stopped breathing.
One of the soldiers tore at his own skin, whispering words that didn't belong to any tongue.
He shrieked, until blood filled his mouth and his lungs gave out.
A wave of death and madness swept through the ranks like a scythe through grain.
Only a few remained conscious.
The veterans were unable to move, but remained standing as they circulated their aura.
The four Sunwardens behind Jean had summoned shimmering barriers of divine light, but even those trembled like leaves in a storm.
Blood trickled from their noses, and one of them wept silently, staring ahead with empty eyes.
Even protected, they were unraveling.
And yet, in the midst of this collapse, one man still stood firm.
Kain.
His armour gleamed brightly with gold lit veins of aura, pulsing like a heartbeat in defiance of the creeping dread.
His hand was on his sword's hilt, not drawn, but ready, his instinct ringing loudly within him.
His eyes locked onto the boy.
Onto the thing behind the boy.
And for the first time in a long, long while…
He felt fear.
Not the fear of battle.
Nor the fear of death.
It was fear of the unknown.
His aura, the refined force of a seasoned warrior honed through years of blood and steel, rose around him like a shield.
Unfortunately for Kain, the aura dimmed becoming faint and pale against the presence that loomed.
Kain gritted his teeth, forcing a breath into lungs that didn't want to expand.
He looked to Jean, still kneeling.
Then to his soldiers, some dead, some broken, all shattered in one way or another.
And he realized something that chilled him to the marrow:
This wasn't an enemy.
This was something else.
And it hadn't even moved.
Kain's breathing was ragged, his heart a thundering storm inside his chest as he looked back toward the other soldiers still frozen in fear.
Their morale shattered, their faith trembled.
Jean's eyes met his, wide and trembling, silently pleading.
It was not fear for herself.
It was for him.
Kain turned his gaze back to the boy, the mystery cloaked in the shape of a broken human.
Nyx.
And for a single moment, just a heartbeat, he saw not a monster but a soul adrift. Something deeply wrong. A hollowness too familiar.
He's just a kid!
Yet he still raised his blade.
Kain's hands steadied. He had to protect them.
All of them.
He exhaled, then launched forward.
The blade shimmered, glowing brighter as divine energy surged to its peak.
It cut through the dry air, aimed straight at Nyx's throat.
Nyx didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
There was no defiance. No panic. Just acceptance.
He stood still, watching death race toward him like an old friend. Perhaps even a welcome one.
But death never came.
A massive boom cracked through the air.
A sound like thunder shattered the surroundings.
A colossal arm surged from the shadows behind Nyx. Thick as three men standing shoulder to shoulder, darker than night, formed of writhing tendrils that shifted like smoke.
The enormous finger of the shadowy limb met Kain's sword mid swing. Not only did it stop the strike, it nullified it.
The sheer force sent a wave of pressure outward, flattening the cracked wasteland and hurling dust tens of meters in all directions.
The ground beneath them shattered like glass.
Kain had only a split second to realize what happened before the giant arm flicked.
That single flick sent his body flying, twisting, spinning through the air like a rag-doll until he crashed into the broken earth, the ground caving in beneath him as he bounced and tumbled across sharp stone and dead roots.
Silence followed.
The face in the shadows chuckled lowly, the sound deep and unnatural, yet strangely comforting to Nyx, like the low hum of a lullaby warped by shadows.
The colossal arm curled protectively around Nyx, and in a blink, the two were consumed by an abyssal mist, swallowed whole by darkness.
Then they vanished.
As if they were never there.
Only the ruined land remained.
Only the scars of power.
Jean was the first to recover, gasping in horror before stumbling over to Kain. Her knees scraped the stone, and her hands lit up with radiant magic as she reached for his battered body.
"Kain!" she shouted, voice thick with panic. "Kain, stay with me!"
He groaned, spitting blood as his eyes fluttered open. "He didn't dodge. He didn't even try."
Jean pressed her palms to his chest, sealing the cracks in his ribs. "That wasn't a child. That thing that protected him it… it laughed. I saw it, Kain. No holy spell touched it. No divine presence could even sense it. It's not from this world."
He coughed hard and winced. "Then… what is it?"
"I don't know," she whispered, voice trembling. "But I know this much… no matter who we send after it, no matter what weapons we bring, they will fall"
Behind her, the soldiers began to show movement, some screaming, others weeping.
A few had lost all reason, reduced to hollow laughter or stunned silence.
Sanity was a fragile thing on a battlefield. And they had just witnessed something far beyond it.
Once Kain was able to stand, the group worked quickly to tend to the wounded. Potions were poured, magical incantations were cast. The light glowed across the dead land, but it could not restore what was broken inside.
When all that could be done was done, Kain stood tall and declared with a heavy voice, "The mission is over. We regroup at the main camp and return to the empire."
No one argued.
Not after what they had seen.
Earlier:
Long before the clash of blades.
Long before the soldiers arrived.
Nyx sat in silence.
His back pressed against a stone pillar half-swallowed by sand, his eyes staring listlessly across the lifeless terrain.
The wasteland stretched endlessly around him, an unforgiving mirror of the emptiness inside.
His small hands, coated in dried blood, trembled faintly.
Nyx spoke softly as if he was speaking to himself, "Who are you?"
The wind didn't howl. The earth didn't shift. It was a world of silence.
"I… am Zirias." The voice came from all the shadows surrounding Nyx, but as if he got all the information he wanted, Nyx did not pry any further.
Silence returned to the wasteland. Time flew by as seconds turned to minutes.
And in that silence, Nyx whispered to no one once again.
"I don't want to be here anymore"
The voice that answered didn't come from the wind or the land.
This time, it came from the darkness behind him.
"Then why do you remain?"
Nyx didn't flinch. He didn't turn around. "There's nowhere else to go."
A figure began to form slowly, naturally, as if the shadows had always meant to take that shape.
Zirias was tall, draped in shifting layers of black mist, all was dark except for a wide, unnerving smile that shimmered faintly.
"Even death," said the voice "is a place. A choice."
Nyx's throat tightened. "I tried. I keep trying. But something always stops it."
Zirias stepped closer, the shadows slithering behind him. "You are not meant to die yet, child."
Nyx looked up for the first time, eyes hollow, but steady. "Why?"
"Because you have not lived yet."
Nyx scoffed, a sound more breath than laughter. "I've seen enough. All I've known is how ruthless this world is. So much pain and loss."
"Yes," it said calmly. "You have seen the ugliness of this world. But only one side of it."
"I've lost everything. My family. My home. I wasn't able to save anyone. Even when I screamed for help, no one came." Nyx mumbled as he took a deep breath.
Zirias knelt, towering and vast, yet lowering himself to meet Nyx's eyes. "No one came, because no one could. This world is cruel, but you are not weak. You are simply unfinished."
Nyx's lips parted, but no words came.
"Do not seek death," Zirias whispered, "when you have not yet given yourself the chance to fight for something beautiful."
"What is there to fight for?"
Zirias extended a hand, not physical, but cold, vast, and strangely warm all at once. "You do not know now. But I will show you. I will protect you until you can protect yourself, and all that you love."
Nyx's voice cracked, barely audible. "But there's nothing left to love."
"Not yet," Zirias said. "But the future is long. You will find people worth protecting. I promise you that."
Something stirred in Nyx's chest, a flicker. Not quite hope, but not despair either.
"I will be your shadow," Zirias continued, "your sword, and your shield. Until your will burns brighter than mine."
And then, in the distance, the thunder of footsteps.
Boots.
Magic surging.
A familiar dread.
Nyx began to recall the time the lord of this land sent their men to "thin the herd" and collect taxes on his dying village.
"They've come for me again," Nyx murmured.
Zirias smiled wider.
"Then let them come."
Now:
Darkness swallowed them whole.
The world shifted.
And when it settled, Nyx stood at the bottom of a deep chasm, an enormous vertical abyss that pierced the earth like a wound.
There was no light here. No wind. Only the echo of Nyx's heartbeat and the stillness of his breath.
The cliff walls stretched high above them, hundreds of meters, disappearing into inky black.
"Where are we?" Nyx asked quietly.
Zirias hovered beside him, tall and steady. "Where few dare to tread. A place forgotten by gods and men. Here, you will rest. Heal. Train."
Nyx looked down at his hands, still trembling, still stained.
And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, he clenched them into fists with all his strength.
Zirias, always watching, let out a low, satisfied hum. "We begin here, Nyx. Not in fire. Not in blood. But in silence."
"And what comes next?" Nyx asked.
Zirias turned his gaze to the void above them. "You will become something they can no longer ignore."