Grayson awakens with a gasp. The air is like inhaling through ink, too thick. He touches the earth with his fingers, but it's not dirt or stone. Something feels off. Beneath his touch, it changed like a solid shadow.
His limbs are heavy, but he pushes himself up, charged with something new. His body feels... strange, but strength hums beneath his skin, raw and uncontrolled. As if it no longer truly belongs to him.
Above, the sky is a whirling twilight, neither day nor night, painted in shades of blood-red and deep violet, with distant gold lightning streaks. A sunless emptiness that stretches in all directions indefinitely.
He turns, looking for something familiar to Emery, but all he finds is a void. Voices that are not there are carried by a whispering wind.
A shiver runs down his back.
His voice is husky when he swallows. "This is not Earth."
The darkness changes.
Something stirs inside them, observing.
Then there was movement, dark shapes, clad in frayed robes, looming out of the emptiness. Their faces are hidden, but their eyes are like blazing coals, staring at him with a mixture of inquisitiveness and condemnation.
Instinctively preparing for a fight, Grayson tenses up. They don't attack, though.
With a voice like a whisper borne through a storm, one takes a step forward.
"This is not the first time a Blackwell has stood here."
Grayson's heart thuds. "Who are you?"
The figure's head tilts. "The Forgotten are us. Fighters who disobeyed the Shadowbound King and suffered the consequences
Like a flood, their presence presses against Grayson as a low murmur reverberates throughout the assembly.
"You didn't destroy him, but you sealed the vault. The King is still around. You have been brought here to complete the task that your ancestors began."
Grayson lets out a loud sigh.
He believed the battle was over.
He was mistaken.
A warrior advances, his icy, iron-like fingers clamping down on Grayson's arm. He pulls him towards a quiet pool of dark water without saying a word.
Grayson doesn't want to. "What are you..."
"Observe."
His face is forced towards the surface as the warrior makes him kneel.
There are no ripples in the lake. It doesn't even move. It is utter blackness, a mirror of something more profound, something concealed.
His reflection then shifts.
When he is not moving, his shadow writhes and twists into strange patterns. Though they flicker and burn with a dark fire that wasn't there before, his own eyes still look back at him.
He feels knots in his stomach. The warrior's hold tightens as he jerks away.
The warrior responds in a sombre tone, "It's inside you. The Shadowbound King made an impression."
Grayson's fists clench. Now he feels it, the whispers slithering in the back of his head, the pounding weight beneath his skin.
He now harbours the same beast that attempted to devour his family.
The warrior lets him go. "It will consume you if you don't control it."
Grayson lets out a shaky breath. Sealing the vault was the end, he believed.
It was just the start.
He is surrounded by warriors whose brilliant eyes are inscrutable.
"You're not welcome here." The leader speaks quietly yet firmly. "Leaving is only possible in one way."
Another warrior comes forward. "You have to confront the Abyss Trial."
Grayson gets chills just from the title. "What if I don't succeed?"
Quiet.
The commander continues, saying, "Then you will never leave."
"Only one Blackwell has ever survived it," murmurs a third fighter.
Grayson takes a deep breath. Even his bloodline had been unable to break out of this location, even if they had shut the vault.
He has no time to get ready because of the warriors.
Under him, the shadows change—then swoop.
He is pulled downward by dark tentacles that encircle his ankles. As he is pulled into the Abyss, the world warps and contorts.
A tidal wave of darkness sweeps over him.
Though he is no longer in the Shadow Realm, he lands hard.
He is in a changing nightmare labyrinth.
There are a lot of murmurs in the heavy air. His deepest worries are formed by shapes that move at the periphery of his vision—faces from his past, regrets he buried long ago.
The trial had started.
The shadows were also observed.
The smell of burning metal and rain filled the air.
Grayson was positioned in the centre of the street. The headlights flashed. Tires screamed.
He was aware of what came next.
A collision. A shout. The breaking of the glass.
His mother's car crumples like paper as it flips and bends.
Then there was quiet.
Grayson staggered back. "No, this isn't true."
However, the vision changes and becomes worse.
Alexander. His own brother. Leaving.
Alexander didn't turn around when Grayson yelled.
Anguish snared his chest. Once more, the shadows sway... Emery emerged.
She was standing above his corpse. Chilly. Unforgiving.
Then she pierced his heart with a blade.
With a gasp, Grayson fell to his knees. "Emery wouldn't—"
Slithering through the shadows was a voice. This is what is ahead of you. You'll pass away by yourself."
Someone else appeared... himself.
Not exactly, though.
He was darker and stronger in the shadow form, with void-black, power-cracking eyes.
Grayson hesitated before reaching for a weapon.
Because he was more powerful in his shadow form.
It lunges.
It was a vicious battle.
Overpowered, Grayson takes blow after blow. He was faster than his shadow self. More intelligent. More powerful.
Grayson wasn't quick enough, but he just managed to avoid the last blow.
He felt a dagger of pure blackness pierce his chest.
He suffocated.
However, he didn't fall.
Rather, the shadow became a part of him.
Raw energy pulsed through his veins, turning them black.
The agony went away.
The power then spiked.
The force of it almost teared him apart as he gasped. It was excessive. It was too powerful.
The warriors of the Forgotten look on in terror from the edge of the Abyss.
"That has never been done by a Blackwell before."
The sky rumbled.
An antique item was observed.
Something was observed.
There was something awaiting.
Grayson stumbled and looked at his own shaking hands.
"What am I turning into?"