A place where time and space held no meaning.
A realm beyond human understanding.
A twisted reflection of reality—so distorted, so unnatural—that even the most steadfast minds would fracture like cheap glass under pressure.
This was the Mirror Realm.
Grey had been trapped here for over a month.
At first, it gnawed at his sanity.
There was no day. No night. No dawn to wake him. No dusk to rest. The sky above was an ink-black void where two pale moons hung motionless—one crimson, the other milk-white—like the dead, watching eyes of some forgotten god.
There was no wind. No birdsong. Not even echoes.
Even his footsteps hesitated to exist.
It was a place designed to unmake men.
And it almost did.
Grey had lost count of the times he stared at his hands, doubting their shape, their solidity. Had his bones always bent like that? Were those truly his fingers, or something mimicking them?
He stopped trusting his senses after the third week. That was when he realized—even his shadow wasn't his own. He felt it watching him. Waiting. If he ever took his eyes off it for too long… it would strike.
Still, in this hellscape, he made progress.
Painfully slow—but progress nonetheless.
The rune carved into his skin had become his lifeline. With it, he barely survived this cursed dimension.
Over time, Not only had he grown more familiar with the rune's power—he had even begun to adapt to this damned environment.
He no longer vomited from movement. His steps didn't bend the ground into spirals. His lungs didn't burn with every breath. The Mirror Realm hadn't welcomed him… but at least it had stopped rejecting him.
Now, he walked beside Elsa.
The path ahead twisted through forests of warped trees—bark groaning like tortured flesh. In the distance, a volcano rumbled. It always rumbled. Always erupted. Always burned.
That was their destination.
It still looked thousands of kilometers away.
But in truth… they were close.
A week more, at most.
That was what Elsa told him.
Thinking of Elsa…
His eyes flicked sideways.
She was silent.
Strange.
Elsa never stayed silent for long. Her words usually came in like machine-gun fire—constant, sharp, impossible to ignore.
But ever since that incident last week… she'd changed.
Grey didn't mind.
He preferred her this way.
'She looked better with her mouth shut'
He adjusted his cloak and stepped forward when—
"...!"
Every hair on his body stood up.
Bloodlust.
His body reacted before thought could catch up.
A chill slithered down his spine, like a needle threading through bone. His golden eyes snapped toward the twisted trees on the left.
They were groaning again.
But not from wind.
Something was coming.
Something alive.
Something hostile.
In his previous life, Grey had fought countless men. Warlords. Kings. Assassins. Rebels. Slavers. Saints.
All bled the same when gutted.
But monsters?
Monsters were different.
Some would say monsters were easier to fight—no minds, no plans.
Grey disagreed.
He wasn't wary of Elsa. Nor of any human.
No matter their power, humans still bled when cut. Still died when stabbed through the heart.
But monsters…
Monsters left an deep impression on him.
In the past month, he had faced many. Each encounter a near-death experience.
Their very names whispered danger.
They existed to hunt.
Their instincts were sharper than any blade.
And their hunger—unquenchable.
But above all—
Their bodies.
They weren't like humans who wielded weapons. Their bodies were weapons.
Claws. Fangs. Hidden tendrils. Bone scythes. Venom sacs.
The people of this world could deal with them. People like Elsa, who always seemed to know exactly where to strike.
But Grey? A man from a world where monsters never existed?
He learned the hard way.
So when he encountered them—
He welcomed the pain.
Each battle was a lesson.
Each scar, a page of knowledge written in blood.
His right hand twitched as his storage rune glowed faintly.
He was ready.
licking his dry lips he looked in the distance.
Now the only question was—what to sacrifice?
Just then—
A cold hand touched his shoulder.
He didn't flinch. Just turned.
Elsa stood beside him.
"I'll take care of it," she said.
Then she vanished.
BOOM!
The forest convulsed.
A shockwave split the air.
BOOM!
Another one.
The sound tore through the Mirror Realm like a divine scream.
Grey crouched low, then leapt—silent as thought—landing on a twisted branch above.
He narrowed his eyes.
And then… he saw it.
A nightmare born of plague and madness.
Fifteen meters tall—maybe more.
Its skin looked stitched together from rotting corpses. Violet veins pulsed beneath it, glowing faintly like infected wounds.
It had no face.
Only a vertical slit that opened wide—revealing spiraling rows of needle-thin teeth, grinding eagerly.
Six tails writhed from its back, ending in jagged, bony scythes. Steam hissed from its joints. The air warped around it—not from heat, but from rot.
Its very presence whispered insanity.
Then it struck.
A tail lashed forward—faster than lightning.
Elsa moved—just enough to dodge.
Another tail came from the left.
Swish!
Her hand rose—
Crack!
A wall of ice surged up.
CLANG!
The tail hit it. The ground shuddered.
But there was no scratch on her shield.
In fact it was the monster tail that started twitching...
Then...
Ice crawled up its length like living vines.
A heartbeat later—
Shing! Shing!
Two spears of ice formed mid-air.
Then disappeared.
Or rather, moved faster than his eye could follow.
CRACK!
The frozen tail shattered.
The monster screamed.
Screeeeeeeeech!
The sound—high, shrill, like glass grinding on bone—rippled through the Mirror Realm.
More movement.
More tails erupted from its back.
Eight. Ten. Twelve.
They circled Elsa like vipers, twitching, trembling.
Xiu! Xiu! Xiu!
They struck at once.
She danced between them—light as wind, sharp as frost. But they adapted. Twisted. Learned. One tail clipped her ankle.
Grey tensed.
But the next the tail let go of her ankle. as it started Twitching.
Its tip froze mid-air.
Frost crept along it.
The monster roared and thrashed, its tails smashing the surroundings.
Elsa smirked.
Shing! Shing! Shing!
A dozen spears formed above her—floating like judgment.
Then—
FWOOOM!
They rained down in an instant.
Each tail impaled.
Each one shattered.
Dust and ice filled the air.
And then—silence.
The forest stilled.
Only the soft crunch of ice beneath Elsa's boots remained.
And the twitching corpse of the nightmare.
But Elsa wasn't relieved.
Grey could see it—clear as day.
She was frowning.
No… not just frowning.
Her expression had turned grave.
Why?
Grey's eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across his face.