Forty-five steps had passed—
The purple-flamed torches embedded in the stone walls ignited one by one, as if welcoming his presence into the darkness that clung tightly around him. Their dim light flickered softly, casting long, wavering shadows that danced through the damp mist of the cavern corridor.
His footsteps echoed faintly between the silent, petrified walls, the sound of his boots resembling whispers from the past—quietly affirming that he was not alone in this place.
Or at least… not completely abandoned.
Until—
His eyes froze.
He saw it.
A second corpse.
A human skeleton lay motionless in suffocating silence.
"…Another body?" he murmured under his breath, eyes narrowing sharply.
His tone carried more than surprise—it was laced with suspicion, and a thin strand of unease that slowly crept into his thoughts.
His steps paused only for a moment. Then, without hesitation, he quickened his pace.
His shadow folded and stretched alongside the flickering purple light as he approached the unfamiliar skeleton.
Once there, he lowered himself carefully. His right knee touched the cold, damp ground, while his left hand rested against the rough stone. He bowed his head—not in mourning, but in search—careful, deliberate, carrying a faint hope.
"This… there has to be a second piece of evidence somewhere nearby."
At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. Still, Kael extended his hand, tracing along the spine worn down by time.
His fingers moved gently, as if trying to read a story left behind in silence. He was searching for something—a note, or anything at all that might offer answers.
This skeleton wasn't seated.
It lay stretched along the ground, its skull tilted toward the cavern ceiling, as if yearning to gaze upon a final world it never managed to reach.
Both arms were extended toward the upward slope at the end of the corridor—clawing forward, as though grasping for one last chance to survive.
But it had ended there.
No legs. No hope left to carry.
The cloak it wore was torn and shredded, leaving a long trail scraped across the stone floor—a scar carved through the silence, ending right here.
"This body is different… I can't find any note…" Kael whispered, barely audible, his gaze hollow. "Looks like… he never had the chance to leave anything behind."
He fell silent for a moment.
But his thoughts moved quickly.
"…Or rather, he was trying to escape this cave. But—from what?"
Kael straightened slowly, though he didn't fully rise.
His expression dimmed, as if weighed down by something he couldn't explain—not from this place itself, but from whatever awaited him deeper within.
"Tch. I still don't understand what really happened…"
His gaze drifted, trying to grasp something invisible—like traces of fear lingering in the air.
Yet… he looked deeper into the cave's mute stillness, questioning himself over and over.
"What could drive him to this state? His body… only the lower half is gone. Could it have been a powerful monster he fought? But…"
He glanced back at the skeleton once more.
"There are no claw marks here. No heat. No cold. Not even the scent of blood."
Kael rose to his feet slowly. His eyes swept across the area again—the cracked stone walls, wild-growing moss, the faint torchlight, the heavy scent of wet earth hanging in the air.
Nothing was out of place.
No anomalies. No signs.
Not a single trace that anything had ever passed through here—let alone lived.
"There's nothing that suggests any creature was ever here," he said quietly, half-muttering.
His gaze then shifted toward the deeper corridor, where the darkness thickened and the temperature began to fall.
"Maybe… if I go further in. Then—yes, it has to be there," he continued, his voice steadier now.
Something within him—conviction, or perhaps madness—whispered that the truth awaited at the end of that silent passage.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, recalling the earlier note—the faint handwriting found near the cave's entrance:
If this is a trial… then I failed before I ever understood its rules.
We were awakened… not as heroes, not as envoys. But as tools meant to be seen. Judged. Wagered.
I don't know who brought me here. But I know the feeling they carried… Not hope. Guilt.
If someone is reading this… go deeper. Maybe you're stronger than we were. But never believe strength alone will be enough.
None of it mentioned battling something tangible. There were no traces of combat. No stab wounds. No claw marks.
Only… a trial.
A trial whose rules were never understood.
Kael exhaled deeply. His right hand rose to press gently against his temple, as if trying to suppress the vortex of questions spiraling through his mind.
"Ahhh… again and again, I'm forced to think… without any clear conclusion. How troublesome."
Sentences flowed through his thoughts—not as statements, nor as answers—but as fragments of questions colliding with one another, echoing without direction, suffocating without end.
"If the true enemy was their own fear… then how could fear take their body like this? That's impossible. I'm certain it wasn't fear alone. And it's not something that could sever body from soul in such a way."
His head lowered in restless silence, eyes closed, motionless—yet his thoughts continued to churn, like an underground current that could not be stopped even when the surface appeared calm.
"…No. I can't stay here any longer," he finally muttered. "I have to keep moving."
He opened his eyes once more.
"I think… I know," he said softly, his voice barely more than a breath. "Fear isn't the core of it all. There's something deeper… darker… hiding behind it. But what is it?"
There was no answer.
All that reached him was the sound of his own breathing, blending with the pulse of passing time and the flickering glow of the torches swaying against the stone walls.
He was still standing beside the skeleton—whispering, thinking, sinking deeper into a confusion that refused to fade.
And then—
A current of air brushed against his cheek from deeper within the corridor. Gentle. Cold. Yet purposeful. Not a wandering draft, but a wind with intent—a wind that called.
It flowed along the cave walls, like spectral hands reaching out to guide him… or to beckon him closer.
Kael's eyes opened wide.
"…Alright," he said softly, giving a small nod—as if responding to a summons no one else could hear. "I'm coming."
And he stepped forward.
Deeper still, following the narrowing passage, toward the heart of a darkness that had yet to be named.
Seven minutes passed—
His steps halted at a point where the right wall of the corridor seemed… different. The purple torchlight from his left brushed across the stone, unveiling something long hidden by dust and time.
"…Is that…?"
Not paper. Not a note.
But grooves.
Carved symbols.
Kael drew closer, his gaze locking sharply onto the faint markings.
"Symbols… Abyssan Script…?"
He studied them intently.
The wall was cracked, veiled in aged moss and dust. Yet beneath it all, five symbols were etched in an unusual pattern. They weren't letters. Not pictures either. They were something else entirely—like entities half-alive within the stone itself.
Kael lowered himself slightly and brushed the surface with the fingers of his right hand. The stone was cold to the touch—
—and it pulsed.
As though a faint heartbeat throbbed beneath the wall.
"These glyphs aren't ordinary… and they don't feel like human carvings. This is… will."
The first symbol resembled an eye—but not a human one. Its form was vertically elongated, the outer shape like a rigid eyelid half-open, guarding a geometric core within—an iris shaped like a diamond. It looked like an eye peering through the veil of dimensions, alert, yet not fully awake.
"A gaze that never sleeps… yet never truly awakens."
The second symbol resembled a body forcibly split, yet still standing. A dominant vertical line was crossed by rib-like structures, creating the impression of a form cracked open but holding itself together. It carried the tension of an internal struggle—between the urge to collapse and the will to endure.
"A form that is broken… but not yet defeated."
The third symbol centered on a main shape stretching upward and downward, then branching left and right in near symmetry. Its ends were not sharp, but curved—like restrained flames, energy held in silent suspension.
"A divided desire… mute within branching choices."
The fourth symbol was the sharpest—and the most strained.
Two thick, thorn-like forms opposed each other, forming harsh diagonal lines that crossed without ever touching. They existed in a single line of tension, like two poles that had rejected union since the moment of creation.
"A conflict of wills… or perhaps, laws that deny one another."
And then—the fifth symbol—
Kael held his breath.
For a moment, he froze, as though the world itself had fallen silent.
The same symbol appeared again.
A repetition—but not without meaning.
Philosophically, its return spoke of cycles. Of traps. Of temporal curses. A chaos that did not occur once, but again and again—forming a looping pattern of destruction…
Endless. Originless.
Its form twisted into an angular spiral—rigid, fractured, like a dimension that had once been forcibly folded, then abandoned. At its center, a small fissure split the core, hinting that the world had once exploded in silence… and was now preparing to do so again.
"…Like a hole at the center of reality. Not emptiness… but the remains of something too ancient to explain."
Kael's lips moved on their own. Soft. Almost inaudible. The word slipped free—not born of logic, but of a resonance rising from deep within his bones.
"…A-B-Y-S-S."
He didn't know how he could read it… or understand it. The word simply surfaced—not from his thoughts, but from something long embedded within him, far before he ever knew what reading meant… or who he truly was.
And the moment he spoke it—the stone rumbled.
"…Huh?"
The air tightened.
The cave ceiling shuddered briefly—crackling… then fell silent again, as if something had opened for an instant, only to hide itself before revealing its face.
The wind stopped at once.
The torchlight shrank, flickering weakly… nearly extinguished.
The only sound left was the pounding of his own heart—ringing in his ears like an echo.
Kael stepped back.
Yet his gaze remained locked on the five symbols. His breath quickened, his voice low and trembling.
"…Wait… just now, I… I could read it?"
That wasn't merely a word. Not merely a name.
It was… a command.
Kael stared at the stone in silence.
"This writing… Abyss…?"
Or perhaps—a call home.
In an instant, something within him knew—something had changed. Whether from the vibration just now, or from the word itself that had split the world without a sound.
He turned sharply toward the corridor ahead.
His body tensed. His eyes narrowed.
"I've got a bad feeling… did that tremor just now… open a path? It sure sounded like it. I have to keep going."
Without hesitation, Kael moved.
And within that suspended silence, he broke into a run—plunging deeper inside… leaving the symbols behind—yet carrying their meaning deep within his breath.
***