I run.
They loose arrows that whistle harmlessly through the space I occupied a second ago. They raise spear formations, their dead eyes fixed on me without truly seeing me, but my physical strength is an order of magnitude beyond theirs. I leave the "Hollows" behind, outpace the drifting jellyfish, and bypass the offspring sentries guarding the lower slopes before they can even vibrate a warning. I must find Anya before the unthinkable happens.
Halfway to the peak, after dropping another offspring, I stop. I look back as I devour its essence, the cold power sliding into my veins.
The Mist around me is thinning. Once the creature is fully consumed, I can see the effect: a few hundred meters below, near the manor where I decapitated that earlier monstrosity, the grey veil is dissolving into a tattered soot. I scan the distant city—the sectors where I previously "deleted" the offspring—and the results are identical. The logic clicks into place with the satisfying snap of a well-made gear.
"This makes total sense," I breathe, a sharp, cold laugh escaping my throat. "Without the offspring to maintain it, there is no more mist."
The idea of facing an invincible mist-being was an annoyance I wasn't prepared for. But if I get rid of every offspring, this city will finally be set free from its grasp. An idea crosses my mind—an elegant, violent solution.
I close my eyes and expand my Perception. It surges outward, a wave of awareness that wraps around the entire mountain in a superficial scan. I detect the offspring, the clusters of Hollows, and anything with a vital force comparable to a human's. This is my map; it enables my next move.
Knowing their coordinates, I attempt to open tiny Void Gates. It works. The portals are no bigger than a coin, but that is all I need. I push my perception through them, increasing the resolution until distance becomes irrelevant. I am a sniper who can place his rifle's barrel face-to-face with a target while standing miles away.
I see them. Seven children of the Elder, perched like bloated gargoyles in high caves and temple balconies, directing the Hollow crowds and the drifting jellyfish.
I manifest [Reality's Blade]. A single move, aimed at seven targets who don't have the slightest inkling of their impending extinction.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The wet sound of seven heads rolling echoes through the link. I close the portals and exhale, leaning against a jagged rock as my breath hitches. The strain on my body after such an elegant move is significant, but the reward is immediate. The Mist begins to boil away, revealing the jagged, ugly bone of the mountain. At this height, with the wind screaming across the peaks, the veil cannot sustain itself without its anchors.
I chuckle, a sound both cruel and genuinely amused. I like killing these things. I'm going to enjoy killing the Elder, and I'm going to do it slowly.
"Hahaha! What will you do now, squid?" I mutter, looking up at the summit. The temple stands exposed and defiant, a structure not built by men, partially buried into the mountainside. "Your walls are down."
I keep moving, walking with caution. I have no intention of being backstabbed by a stray remnant. Behind me, the disoriented "Hollows" begin to scream. Without the guiding frequency of the offspring, they are lost, their collective wail booming across the mountain skirts like a dying engine.
I reach the entrance of the temple quickly. The architecture reminds me of a writer from my old world who spoke of monsters and almighty cosmic horrors. I grin. It's ironic—he wasn't wrong. Those things do exist in the Void.
"What is this then? A monument from a lost civilization to those gods?" I mutter. "No. If I could get here, maybe one of the Dwellers did too. Maybe the Elder is one of them. I must be careful."
Someone is waiting for me. Women. Elder women clutching spears with trembling hands, their eyes weeping a milky, desperate fluid.
"You killed my child!" they shriek in a ragged, overlapping echo.
I don't have time for this. I unleash [Reality's Blade], and the screaming stops. Seven heads roll across the stone. These were the mothers—innocents turned into husks, forced to serve the parasites that drained them. I consume what remains of their essence, and a part of me promises vengeance. For some reason, I care about these women. Nobody protected them. Nobody saved them. They were forced to love the horrible fate that unmade them.
Their essence is a pathetic flicker, a shadow of a soul hollowed out long ago. But it is enough. I feel the warmth of the essence joining my power, steeling my will. Even if it is a Dweller of the Void, I will end it. This creature will be the key that unlocks my Level 6 and whatever power lies behind that threshold.
I scan the architecture. Detecting living presences, I open pinhole portals to map the structure and its hidden paths. I rush. It takes thirty minutes to reach the grand hall—the altar where the Elder dwells.
Aria is there. She is alive, but she is not alone. Other women are present; as I watch, one of them dies.
The tunnel ahead is a congested artery of horror. It is choked with a sea of Hollows and a dozen offspring, their bodies twitching in a protective formation. I cannot cut through them fast enough to reach the altar before the Elder completes his "work."
Through the pinhole portal, I see the grand hall. It opens up to the jagged coastline, the black, threatening sea acting as a silent witness to the ritual. Around the altar, stone rings are carved into the floor, filled with dark water and the floating, pregnant forms of the Mothers. They are waiting for the parasites in their wombs to finish draining them.
"Come, blessed one..."
The voice isn't a sound; it's a psychic intrusion that slams against my [Clarity], triggering its defensive hum. On the altar, a woman hesitates. For a heartbeat, her eyes scream for help, but then her body betrays her. Her robes fall to the cold stone. She climbs onto the altar, her muscles arching in a terrifying cocktail of chemical bliss and soul-deep loathing.
I focus every drop of intent through my coin-sized gate. I see the Elder now: a squalid, bald creature with a face that is hauntingly human, yet framed by a jaw of writhing tentacles. His legs are underdeveloped bone-like appendages, dangling uselessly while massive, powerful limbs on his back hold him aloft.
A thick, snake-like reproductive limb rises from his core. It drips with a fluid that causes the woman to twist in unnatural pleasure as it caresses her skin.
"Yes, blessed one... Rejoice in my touch... Rejoice for you will take my seed..." The voice is a slick, obscene oil in my mind. "Be worthy of it... Do not disappoint me like the last."
[Reality's Blade]
I don't aim for his head yet. I aim for the root of that obscenity. The space splits with a violent crack. The limb is severed in a spray of pale, viscous fluid.
The Elder's shriek is a high-pitched vibration that cracks the stone of the hall. The agony in that sound puts a genuine smile on my face. His concentration breaks, his psychic grip on the room faltering just enough for me to tear open the space.
I step through the portal, standing on the blood-slicked stone of the inner chamber.
[Reality's Blade]
I sweep my hand. I don't have time to save the women in the pools—the parasites are too far along; they are already husks. I grant them the mercy of a clean death. Simultaneously, I cast [Void Gate] beneath the feet of the un-bred prisoners.
"Lilith is going to have questions," I mutter as the women vanish into the safety of the vault.
I am left alone with the Elder. To my irritation, he has already recovered. The severed limb has simply... reappeared. Intact. Unharmed.
"You murdered my offspring. Why?" his voice echoes, strangely calm now.
"They were weak," I state, my voice flat. "And all that is weak shall be devoured."
[Reality's Blade]
I strike his neck. The cut is perfect. The space divides exactly where his spine should be. But his head doesn't fall. The wound simply doesn't exist a second after I make it.
"Just because you were hungry?" the Elder asks, his inhuman eyes fixed on me with a cold, academic apathy. "Are you satiated already? Do you eat fish? Men like fish. I can give you a lot of fish."
"You and your offspring are a threat to the equilibrium of this world," I reply, testing the air for a weakness I haven't found yet.
"How so?" He sounds genuinely confused. He tilted his head, the tentacles under his jaw twitching. "I am giving purpose to their meaningless lives. The blessed ones produce my children. They help the Great Work become real. Have you seen it? Is it not beautiful?"
"I have seen it. It is a farm for parasites."
"Is that not the way of things?" the Elder asks, drifting closer on his back-limbs. "You said it yourself: the weak are devoured. But I treasure humans. I think it is better to farm them. If we devour them to extinction, there will be no more food. No more mothers. No more future."
He gestures with a pale, stunted hand toward the empty pools and the bodies I just silenced.
"The Great Work won't be completed, and our beautiful song will remain unfinished. Humans cannot appreciate it. That only speaks of how meaningless they are."
"They are not meant for the song," I reply, pulling from the core of my existence, turning my vitality into the raw fuel for my will.
"Indeed. They cannot appreciate it like we, beings of the depths, do." He affirms, his voice almost tinged with a grotesque sadness. He stares at me, his inhuman eyes searching mine. "It is sad, don't you think? Because even humans come from the song. Help me, Deep One."
I narrow my eyes. He senses it—the signature of the Void that clings to my soul like a shadow. He thinks I am a brother, a fellow traveler from the Dark. He isn't unleashing his full might because he's trying to recruit me. He sees the skeletons of the women who came before as nothing more than the price of a masterpiece.
"Help me," he continues, his jaw-tentacles twitching with excitement. "Help me bring the song to the surface, to the world. When the world and all its nations are singing, the song will be perfect. The ultimate madness and despair would compose the perfect tunes. It is the melody of my home. I only want to share a piece of my home—the one I could never find—with everyone."
He raises a hand. His fingers are not bone; they are smaller, writhing tentacles reaching out in a plea for companionship.
"In the end, it is all reduced to one simple thing," I say, my voice dropping to a cold, lethal whisper.
"Oh? And what is that?" he asks, leaning in.
"All that is weak shall be devoured," I answer.
Behind me, the space tears open. A [Void Gate] erupts, larger and more violent than any I have summoned before. It is a maw of absolute nothingness, positioned perfectly to swallow him whole.
"And I intend to eat you."
I hurl the portal forward. I don't just want him gone; I'm sending him to the Void to wither. I'll let the "bigger fish" soften him up, and then I will return to harvest what's left of his power.
The portal hits him. The black event horizon washes over his pale, squalid form. I've won. I begin to exhale, already calculating the mana I'll need for the next step.
"What is this?"
The Elder's voice is calm. My eyes snap open.
The portal is touching him. It is biting into his reality, screaming with the force of a vacuum. But he isn't moving. He isn't being pulled in. He stands in the center of the rift as if it were nothing more than a mild breeze, his will anchoring him to our world with a strength that defies every law of physics I know.
He looks at the Void, then back at me, his human-like face twisting into a mask of confused disappointment.
The portal... it isn't swallowing him.