There was no transition. No warning. The light simply vanished. One moment we stood before the graves, beneath an open sky still clinging to the last remnants of day… and the next, darkness fell over us like a slab of stone, thick, immediate, absolute. This was no natural dusk. No gradual surrender to shadow. It was a cut. As if something had decided the world no longer deserved to be seen. Serah was the first to turn.
—What was that…?
She never finished. The sound came from inside the church. A cry. High, pitched. Fragile. A child. Then another. And another. Voices layered over one another, fractured, trembling, soaked in fear, spilling out from a place that, moments ago, had been empty. This was no echo. No trick of the wind. It was real. Alive. We looked at each other, just for a second. Then we ran. Aldric kicked the door open. The church was no longer the same. The order was gone. The stillness had rotted into something else. The air felt damp, swollen, as if stone and wood had absorbed years of decay in a single breath. And there she was. The old pie seller. Crossing the far threshold with unnatural speed, her hunched silhouette twisting in the shadows as she fled without looking back.
—There! —Aldric shouted.
But we didn't follow. Not yet. Because the crying grew louder. The benches began to tremble. At first, it was subtle, a low creak, a vibration crawling through the wood like something trying to wake. Then it escalated. Violent. Insistent. The ground itself rejecting what stood upon it.
—This isn't right —Maelor muttered.
No one needed him to say it. From the altar… something moved. Blood. At first, a thin black thread slipping down the stone. Then more. Spreading. Thick. Alive. Pouring like an open wound that refused to close. It crawled over the surface, swallowing cracks, drowning symbols, staining the carved hands of long-forgotten saints. The smell followed. Metallic. Dense. Real enough to choke on. Serah stepped back.
—No… no…
The crying became unbearable. Not one voice. Not two. Dozens. Hundreds. Children we could not see, but who were there. Trapped. The space tightened around us with every pulse. The door slammed shut. The sound exploded through the structure. Aldric turned, instinct driving his hand to his weapon. The door opened. Then slammed again. Again. Again. Something was playing with us. Enjoying it.
—Out! —I ordered.
No one hesitated. We rushed outside. The air hit us hard, but it brought no relief. Because this was no longer Valebrun. The town remained… but it was wrong. Twisted. Aged beyond time. The houses sagged under the weight of centuries we had not lived. Walls cracked open like old scars. Windows shattered or sealed. The lanterns were dead. The street… forgotten. This was the same place. And it wasn't.
—What…? —Serah whispered.
No one answered. We didn't need to. We had crossed something. And on the other side… she was waiting. Standing before the church. The old woman, no… what remained of her, was no longer bent. Her spine straightened. Her form held itself with unnatural certainty. She watched us. Smiling. Wide. Rotten. Her pupils dilated, drowning in something that looked like ecstasy. Then she laughed. Not human. Deeper. Older.
—Now you've seen it —she said. Her voice had changed. —You've seen your future.
No one moved. No one spoke. Only her.
—That is how it ends for you —she continued, stepping forward—. Soil… silence… and oblivion.
Her gaze lingered on each of us.
—But it doesn't have to be that way. You can change it.
She tilted her head.
—You can avoid it… if you ask for what you need.
Aldric's jaw tightened.
—We don't want anything that comes from darkness.
Her smile widened.
—That's what they all say…
Then, she broke. Not transformed. Not shifted. Broken. Her body snapped upright, her skin tightening, splitting in places where it once sagged. It darkened, cracked, peeled, like something shedding a disguise too small to contain it. Her eyes…no longer dull. Deep. Burning. Ancient. The old woman was gone. What stood before us now was something else entirely. Tall. Unyielding. With the remains of her former shape hanging from her like discarded skin. From within the church… the children were still crying.
—They all end up asking, Aldric —she said.
The air changed. The space between us twisted, pulling inward, tightening like a spell being woven around our bones. Aldric stepped forward. Serah moved beside him. Maelor raised a hand, whispering words I barely recognized. Eldran… said nothing. I stepped ahead of them all. Drew my blade. And met her gaze.
—You've sold us enough illusions, witch… —I said— it's time you were paid.
I raised my voice.
—Warriors… at my command… present arms!
She smiled. And the world leaned into violence.
—All together… SHIELDWALL!