Darkness. Heavy, suffocating, infinite.
Ashen couldn't tell if he was falling or floating, lost in the abyss that had swallowed them whole.
His senses flickered between reality and something far beyond it. He felt weightless yet crushed, his body both present and absent. The air—or whatever passed for air in this void—hummed with a presence so vast it defied comprehension.
Then, a spark of light.
His body lurched as golden energy flared around him, the protective force of his own cultivation pushing back against the abyss. His vision swam, and as his consciousness solidified, he realized he was standing. But where?
A vast, desolate expanse stretched before him. The ground was smooth, black, and reflective, like polished obsidian.
The sky was an unnatural swirl of dark mist, shifting and twisting, forming vague, monstrous shapes that faded as soon as they appeared. There was no sun, no stars, only an endless void pressing in from all sides.
Then came the whispers.
A thousand voices, overlapping, speaking in a language older than time itself. Their words clawed at his mind, each syllable vibrating with power. He clenched his jaw, forcing them out, drawing upon his core to steady himself.
A groan from behind.
He turned sharply, spotting Seren and the others scattered across the strange terrain. Some were stirring, others lay unmoving.
"Seren!" He rushed to her side, shaking her gently.
She stirred, her silver eyes fluttering open. "Ashen…?" Her voice was hoarse, dazed. Then, as awareness flooded back, her expression turned grim. "The shadows… The village… Where are we?"
Ashen exhaled sharply. "I don't know. But we're not in our world anymore."
Seren sat up, scanning their surroundings. Her eyes darkened. "This place… it's not just a void. It's between."
"Between what?"
"Existence and something else."
Before he could question further, a deep, resonant sound filled the air.
A voice.
It did not come from any one direction—it came from everywhere.
"So… the chosen one finally arrives."
The words shook the very fabric of reality.
Ashen's breath caught as a shadowy figure coalesced before them, towering and vast. It had no true form, shifting between an armored titan and something far more monstrous. The space around it warped, unable to fully contain its presence. Two gleaming white eyes locked onto Ashen, and he felt something cold slither into his mind, probing, searching.
Seren paled. "That… that isn't a shadow."
"No." Ashen tightened his grip on his sword. "That's something worse."
The entity chuckled, the sound reverberating like a collapsing mountain.
"You do not understand, mortal. You stand before the Harbinger of the Forgotten Abyss. And you… are already mine."
The ground beneath them shattered.
The Descent into the Abyss
They fell.
There was no wind, no resistance, just an endless, accelerating plunge into oblivion. The abyss swallowed them whole, its void stretching into eternity. The darkness grew heavier, pressing into their very souls.
Then—light.
Not golden, but crimson.
Ashen hit the ground with a force that rattled his bones. He groaned, pushing himself up, his hands scraping against rough stone. His warriors crashed down around him, coughing, groaning, but alive.
Seren landed beside him, unnaturally graceful, though her eyes were wide with unease.
They were no longer in the void.
They stood in the ruins of an ancient city, stretching into infinity. Towering structures of black stone loomed overhead, their surfaces carved with symbols that pulsed with eerie, rhythmic light. The sky above them was not empty—it was filled with writhing, shifting shadows, whispering ceaselessly.
A city abandoned by time itself.
Seren knelt, placing a hand on the cracked pavement. "This place…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "It's not just ancient. It's forgotten."
Ashen's gaze hardened. "What do you mean?"
She swallowed. "I mean, no history remains of this place. No memory. No records. As if it was erased from existence itself."
Then, a deep chuckle echoed through the ruins.
They turned sharply.
At the end of the massive courtyard, standing atop a raised platform of black stone, was it.
No longer a formless shadow, the Harbinger had taken shape. A figure clad in obsidian armor, taller than any man, its face obscured beneath a jagged crown of darkness. The air around it twisted, reality bending under its presence.
"Welcome," it said, its voice dripping with amusement. "To the Forgotten Citadel."
A wave of pressure rolled through the city, forcing some of Ashen's warriors to their knees.
Ashen stood firm.
The Harbinger tilted its head. "Impressive. You resist. Good. You will need that strength… if you wish to survive what is to come."
Ashen raised his sword, its golden glow defiant against the abyss. "I don't plan on dying today."
The Harbinger's grin widened.
"Who spoke of death?"
The shadows moved.
And the battle began.