The gate pulsed.
A deep, steady thrum, like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient. Each beat sent ripples through the air, bending reality itself, pulling at the swarm of abyssal horrors like a tide dragging everything into its undertow.
One by one, the creatures lowered themselves, bowing in unison. Their cries were not defiance. They were reverence.
Master. Master. Master.
Even the colossal shadow-beast, crowned with bone spires, lowered its heads, the chant rumbling from every mouth at once.
But the gate did not kneel.
Its glow intensified—blinding, violent, alive. Veins of fire and void threaded through its fractured surface, twisting tighter with each pulse. The mountains groaned as if cracking under the weight of an unseen force. Above, the sky darkened until even the stars dimmed.
Vemy's claws dug into the earth as he forced the abyss to obey, his aura binding the creatures like chains. His veins burned black, shadows coiling around him like serpents, straining to slip free.
Every moment was agony. Every command was war.
Jaylin stumbled into place beside him, his armor scorched, his blade smeared with abyssal ichor. His breaths came in ragged bursts, but still, he stood firm.
"Vemy!" His shout nearly broke against the storm. "This isn't just a gate anymore. Look at it—look closer!"
Vemy turned, his vision blurring between human clarity and abyssal void. The fissure no longer looked like a tear in the world. It pulsed, curved, expanded.
Not a wound.
A womb.
The realization stole his breath.
Jaylin's jaw clenched as he raised his blade, pointing toward the thrumming abyssal glow. "It's not letting things through. It's making them."
The cloaked figure chuckled, stepping forward into the storm. His flames swirled lazily around him, neither dimming nor faltering, as though all of this chaos was merely fuel.
"At last," he drawled, "someone understands. The abyss was never meant to be caged. It is not a prison, not a punishment. It is a cradle."
His hood tilted back slightly, though his features remained lost in shadow. "And tonight, it gives birth."
The words carried like prophecy.
The fissure shuddered, widening with a sound like breaking glass. Shapes began to press against the light—shadows that were almost human, but not. Their bodies wavered, shifting as though they were ideas struggling to decide on form.
When their countless eyes blinked open, they turned to Vemy. And they bowed.
Vemy's aura flared instinctively, forcing his will upon them, but every heartbeat drained him further. His chest heaved, blood running hot through veins that wanted to burst.
"I said…" His voice cracked, layered with that guttural abyssal tone. "I am not a slave. If it wants me—" His claws shook as shadows bowed lower. "—then it serves."
The newborn horrors pressed their foreheads to the broken earth. The swarm followed. Even the colossus thundered in submission.
For a breath, the world seemed to obey.
But the gate pulsed again.
Harder. Faster. Its glow thickened until the air screamed, until the very ground fractured beneath their feet. The light wasn't weakening—it was gathering. Waiting.
The cloaked figure's smile curved wider. "You've done well, boy. Better than I'd hoped. But tell me…"
He leaned forward, his words sharp as knives.
"What happens when the abyss births something even you cannot command?"
The fissure convulsed.
From its depths, a silhouette stirred—massive, radiant, utterly alien.
Not shadow. Not flame. Something beyond.
And for the first time… the abyss inside Vemy recoiled in fear.
🔥 The abyss obeys, the swarm kneels—but the gate itself is no servant. Something greater is about to emerge, and even the abyss wants no part of it.