Joe hit the ground hard, the air punched from his lungs. But the ground wasn't solid. It moved—fine grains of black sand shifting beneath him like dry waves. He pushed himself upright, coughing, and looked around.
The sky here was cracked. Thin golden light leaked through spiderweb fractures in a dark dome above, like daylight trying to break in from another world. Jagged stone towers jutted from the sand like bone. And in every direction, silence.
Except for one thing: the whisper.
It wasn't a voice, not fully. It was like someone exhaling words behind him. When he turned, there was nothing there. Just the sand.
The Warden stood waiting on a nearby ridge, cloaked and still. Its crimson wrappings flowed unnaturally, unaffected by the windless heat.
"This is your First Descent," the Warden said. "The place of trial. A piece of the Broken Fold."
Joe narrowed his eyes. "What do I do here?"
"You don't do," it replied. "You endure."
The sand in front of Joe burst upward. From it rose a figure—his size, his shape. But not him. Not really.
Its skin was gray. Its eyes were hollow pits of swirling darkness. It wore his face, but no life moved behind it. Just instinct. Just hunger.
It opened its mouth, and Joe heard his own voice:
"You'll never be enough."
Joe didn't wait. He rushed forward.
They collided hard. The clone moved like a beast, feral and fast. Joe fought back with fists and fury, instinct driving each motion. The sand gave way beneath their feet. Blood mixed with dust.
The clone whispered with every hit.
"You let her die."
"You ran."
"You want to forget."
Joe roared and drove his elbow into the clone's face. It staggered. He didn't let up. He hammered punches into its ribs, his knuckles splitting open.
"You're not me," Joe snarled. "You're just the part that wants to quit."
The clone lunged one last time. Joe met it with everything he had.
His palm struck its chest. The mark on his hand lit up, and a second eye blinked open.
The clone screamed—not in pain, but in release. Then it disintegrated into ash.
Joe dropped to his knees. His breath came in ragged gasps.
The Warden stood above him.
"You chose to face it," it said. "Many do not. You are still fractured. But less so."
Joe looked down at his hand. The second eye glowed softly.
"What now?"
"Now you fall again."
The sand cracked open beneath him.
And the black swallowed everything.
End of Chapter 2.