The streets were quiet, only the faint glow of lanterns swaying in the night breeze guiding his steps. Northern walked without direction, his hands buried in his pockets, his thoughts heavy. Every step echoed his frustration—frustration at himself, at his weakness, at the fact that Emily had suffered because he could do nothing.
"If only I had an ability…" he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening.
His mind wandered back to Finn. The boy's sharp features, the way he carried himself—it was almost the same as James back on Earth. James, the one person he had trusted the most, the one who had turned his back on him in the last moment. Northern still remembered the sting of that betrayal, the cutting words exchanged just before the world had shifted and dragged him into Uriel.
"Could it really be a coincidence?" he thought, his brows furrowing. "Or is this world playing with me?"
He shook his head and kept walking, trying to silence the storm inside him. That was when he heard it—faint, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. A sound that didn't belong in the silence of the night.
Northern paused, his gaze sweeping the street. Nothing. The sound came again, this time sharper, like the rustle of pages being turned. His feet moved on their own, leading him into a narrow, dimly lit path.
The air grew heavier the further he walked, the shadows pressing in around him. And then he saw it.
At the end of the lonely path, resting on the ground, was a book. Its cover shimmered with a strange dark glow, as though it were breathing with a life of its own.
Northern stopped, staring. "What… is that?"
Cautiously, he stepped closer. The book stirred, its surface rippling with light. Before he could reach out, it lifted on its own, floating into the air. His heart thumped as he instinctively raised his hands, and the book descended gently, settling against his palms.
He stared at it, stunned. The cover was worn, the edges torn, yet the symbols etched into it pulsed faintly with power. The moment his fingers tightened around it, he felt something—a faint vibration, as if the book itself was aware of him.
Northern looked around quickly, half-expecting someone to jump out, but the path was empty. The silence was even deeper now.
"This… is strange," he whispered, his voice almost drowned by the beating of his heart.
Holding the book tightly, he turned and hurried back toward home. He didn't stop until he reached the door, and once inside, he went straight to his room.
Northern shut the door of his room behind him, his hands still clutching the strange, dark book. Its cover was worn, yet it pulsed faintly, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. He set it carefully on the table, staring at it with furrowed brows.
The moment his fingers left its surface, the book flipped open by itself. Pages fluttered noiselessly, finally stopping on one filled with strange black runes that glowed faintly. Northern's chest tightened. He couldn't read the language, yet somehow, the meaning bled directly into his mind.
"Abyssal Resonance."
The words echoed inside his skull, heavy and suffocating. He reached out, his hand trembling, and the inked symbols slithered like living shadows across the page. The moment his skin brushed them, a sharp sting ripped through his palm.
Northern gasped, clutching his chest as darkness coiled out of the book and wrapped around him. It was cold, deeper than night, yet it vibrated with raw power. Whispers filled the room — countless voices, layered, overlapping, some urging, some laughing, others weeping. His knees buckled as he pressed his head against the floor.
Images burned into his mind: a world drowned in black seas, eyes staring from the abyss, skeletal hands reaching upward. At the center of it all, a single phrase resounded:
"Resonate with the Abyss, and you shall never be abandoned again."
Northern's eyes widened. The darkness sank into his skin, threading through his veins like molten fire turned to ice. His heartbeat thundered, then slowed, then thundered again. His breath grew shallow as something inside him shifted, awakening.
He collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. His eyes flickered for a brief instant — and in the dim light, his irises shimmered faintly with a deep, abyssal hue. The book snapped shut on its own, its glow fading, now looking like nothing more than an ordinary, dusty tome.
The night was heavy with silence. Only the faint creak of wood broke through as Northern forced himself to stand, his chest heaving, his body still trembling from the forbidden power that had just surged through him. His hands shook as if something inside them demanded release.
He raised his palm, and for a moment, the dark aura coiled like a serpent, then vanished into the air. The brief test of his power had left him drained, yet something else stirred within, something far more dangerous.
Northern clutched his head as a sharp pain stabbed through his mind. His vision blurred, his breath came ragged. The Abyss within him was awake, whispering, twisting, clawing at his reason. His jaw tightened, and a low growl escaped his throat.
The rage was not his own, yet it poured through him like boiling fire. His fists clenched, and he staggered toward the door. Some part of him... small, faint, but still there—fought back. He pressed his hand against the door, trying to lock it, to stop himself from going further.
"No… not her…" His voice was strained, trembling, as if each word weighed a thousand stones.
But the Abyss was stronger. His hand turned the latch, the wood groaned, and the door slowly swung open.
Emily stirred from her room, awakened by the strange noises. Her gift shivered through her veins, an instinctive warning. Danger was close,inside the house. Her steps were cautious but quick as she left her room, her bare feet silent against the floor.
She froze when she saw him.
Northern stood in the hallway, his eyes darkened, his body trembling like a beast barely contained. Shadows flickered faintly around his frame.
"Master…" she whispered, her voice unsure.
"Stay back!" His roar split the quiet night, echoing like thunder. His hand pressed against the wall, his body shaking violently. "Go, Emily! Leave this place now!"
But she didn't move. Instead, she rushed forward, ignoring the sharp edge in his voice. She threw her arms around him, her small frame pressing against his.
"Stop! Don't come closer!" He tried to push her away, his strength far too great for her fragile body. His grip cut into her arm, leaving marks that would bruise by morning. She winced but did not let go.
"Please, Master… you're still you," she whispered, her voice trembling but firm. "I'm not leaving you."
He thrashed, his breath ragged, his aura lashing out in jagged bursts. Each pulse of dark energy stung her skin, yet she clung tighter. Even when he shoved her, even when pain shot through her side, she refused to let go.
Her warmth pressed against the chaos within him, steady and unyielding.
Bit by bit, his breath slowed. The whispers receded. His clenched fists loosened, the tension leaving his shoulders. Slowly, his head lowered, resting against her shoulder, his body trembling with exhaustion.
Silence returned.
Emily's arms tightened once more as she whispered, "It's alright. You're not alone, Master."
For the first time since awakening the Abyss, Northern felt the darkness recede.