The blinding blue light burned away the Hollow Market in an instant.
When Sora's vision cleared, he was kneeling on rough stone. The smell of charred wood hung in the air, mingling with something metallic—blood.
Shapes resolved out of the haze. Kaelen, crouched with his sword drawn. Ryn, gripping two bloody daggers. Eira, standing between Sora and the encroaching shadows, her cloak torn, silver hair spilling down her back.
Only the enforcers had changed.
They moved slower now—halting, confused—as if the flash had stolen the rhythm of their bodies. The Frost Lantern still burned cold above them, but its glow flickered, struggling to hold form.
"What… happened?" Sora muttered.
No one answered.
The leader shook his head, recovering first. "A trick of the soul. Interesting." His masked eyes darted to Sora. "But not your doing… not yet."
That not yet lodged itself in Sora's mind like a shard of ice.
Kaelen wasted no time. "Move!" he barked.
They scattered. Steel clashed against steel. The blue flash had bought seconds, nothing more.
Eira moved like the light itself, drawing their enemies away from Sora. Ryn slipped into the chaos, blades flashing. Kaelen fought with brutal precision, every swing meant to kill.
But for Sora, the world was collapsing inward. The chain in his hand thrummed with heat again, almost humming—a low, steady vibration that made his bones ache.
The leader lunged for him, spear aimed at his heart.
Instinct—not thought—moved Sora. His grip tightened, and the broken chain lashed out, trailing arcs of blue fire that were not fire. It struck the spear mid-thrust, shattering the steel head like glass.
Everyone froze for half a heartbeat.
Sora stared at the chain, breath sharp in his throat. "I… I didn't—"
The leader recovered, voice low with recognition.
"…So that's where it went."
Before Sora could speak, the Frost Lantern flared—and the ground beneath them split open.
The ground swallowed them whole.
One moment, Sora's feet were on stone—the next, gravity yanked him into darkness. The cold was instant and total, the kind that seeped into his marrow.
He hit the ground hard, the impact rattling his teeth. His hands scraped against something wet and uneven. Not stone. Not wood. Something alive.
Dim light pulsed along the walls—faint veins of luminescence running through slick, black surfaces that shivered when touched. The air was heavy with a faint, rhythmic vibration, like a heartbeat buried deep beneath the earth.
Eira's voice cut through the darkness. "Everyone intact?"
A groan from Kaelen. A curt, "Still breathing," from Ryn.
Sora blinked, eyes slowly adjusting. The place was a vast tunnel, curving unnaturally, lined with strange organic ridges. Here and there, bone-like structures jutted out at odd angles, some carved with unfamiliar runes.
"What is this place?" Sora whispered.
Eira's gaze swept the tunnel with a rare flicker of unease. "The Hollow Veins… I didn't think they still existed."
"The what?" Kaelen asked, voice tense.
"They're part of the After-World's roots," she said, her voice lowering. "Old, living pathways that… remember things. And sometimes… they don't like what they remember."
A faint scraping sound echoed from somewhere deeper in the tunnel. Not footsteps—something dragging itself along the ground. Slow. Deliberate.
Ryn tightened her grip on her blades. "We weren't the only ones who fell down here."
The sound grew louder. Closer.
Then the wall to their left twitched. A fissure opened—no, an eyelid—and a single, massive pupil stared straight at Sora.
The massive pupil dilated, a ripple running down the wall like muscle tensing beneath skin.
Then the sound began—deep, low, almost imperceptible at first, until Sora realized it wasn't sound at all. It was thoughts.
Not his.
> Lost piece… wandering fragment… come back… come back…
Sora staggered back, clutching his head. "Stop—" His voice came out strangled.
The fissures in the walls widened, revealing more eyes, dozens, hundreds, blinking in slow, wet unison. The bioluminescent veins flared brighter, pulsing in time with the strange mental whisper.
Eira stepped in front of him, chain already in her hand. "Don't listen to it," she said sharply. "It's trying to root inside you."
Too late.
The tunnel around Sora blurred, the flickering light stretching into a different scene.
A battlefield.
Not in the After-World—this place was too bright, too alive. The sky was a storm of fire and ash. Bodies littered the ground, both human and monstrous. And in the center, a figure stood with a weapon that was whole, not broken—a chain forged of blinding blue metal.
Sora knew it was him.
Not because the face was familiar—it wasn't—but because the sensation in his chest was unbearable. Recognition. Ownership. Loss.
The vision cracked, shattering back into the tunnel as Kaelen shouted, "Move!"
A tendril of slick, black flesh shot from the wall, lined with jagged teeth. It lashed at Sora, aiming for his throat.
Instinct roared awake. The broken chain in his hand blazed with the same unnatural blue light from his vision. He swung—once, hard—and the tendril shrieked as it split apart, dissolving into oily smoke.
The walls shuddered. The eyes blinked shut, one by one, retreating into the darkness.
Silence fell, except for the ragged sound of Sora's breathing.
Kaelen gave him a long, unreadable look. "You want to tell us what that was?"
Sora swallowed, the memory already fading like smoke between his fingers. "I… don't know."
But that was a lie.
Some part of him knew exactly what he'd just seen.
The Hollow Veins didn't so much end as change.
The smooth, pulsing walls gave way to jagged ridges of black stone, slick with condensation that smelled faintly of blood. The bioluminescent glow dimmed to a faint shimmer, forcing them to rely on Eira's lantern—its cold, steady light cutting a narrow path through the oppressive dark.
But the silence wasn't complete.
Every few steps, there was the faint scrape of something shifting ahead of them. Not scurrying—following.
Kaelen's hand rested on the hilt of his blade. "They're herding us," he murmured, eyes scanning the narrowing passage.
Sora glanced back. The path behind them had changed. Where they had just walked, the tunnel walls seemed to have sealed in, leaving nothing but unbroken stone.
Eira noticed too. "We're not getting out the way we came."
The thought should have unsettled Sora, but instead it sparked something else—an old, buried sensation of… familiarity. As if he'd walked these tunnels before, not as prey but as a hunter.
The memory rose unbidden: flashes of him moving through a similar labyrinth, a squad at his back, voices calling him Lord. He'd known these shifting paths, even commanded them.
His hand tightened on the broken chain. "This place—" he started, but stopped when the air ahead seemed to ripple.
A shape emerged from the gloom.
Tall. Armored. Its helm sprouted curling horns, and in its hands was a weapon—a spear as long as a man was tall, its blade blacker than the shadows around it.
The voice that came from behind the helm was low and steady.
> "I wondered when you'd return."
Sora's breath caught. He didn't know this figure. And yet… he did.
The figure advanced, the spear's tip whispering through the damp air.
No rush. No hesitation.
The kind of measured confidence that came from knowing you were already in control.
Kaelen stepped forward, sword raised. "Stay behind me."
"No," the figure said—not to Kaelen, but to Sora. "You should stand in front. That's where you belong."
Sora's pulse spiked. "Do I know you?"
The helm tilted, almost amused. "You did. Before you fell. Before you chose the path of mercy."
Eira's lantern flickered, its light shuddering across the walls. The tunnel seemed to draw tighter, the living stone bending inward as if to watch.
Without warning, the figure lunged. The spear struck like a lightning bolt. Kaelen intercepted, the clash ringing like steel on steel—but the force sent him staggering back.
Ryn darted in, blades flashing. The figure spun, deflecting her strikes with almost lazy precision, each movement economical, deliberate.
Sora moved on instinct, scooping a shard of jagged bone from the tunnel wall and deflecting a downward thrust meant for Ryn. His arm vibrated from the impact, but his stance… was perfect. Too perfect. His body knew this kind of fight even if his mind didn't.
"You remember," the figure said. "Even without your crown, you remember how to kill."
Flashes erupted in Sora's mind—battlefields soaked in red, other horned warriors falling beneath his blade, civilians cowering behind him instead of running. He wasn't slaughtering… he was protecting.
"Who are you?" Sora demanded.
The figure's voice dropped to a growl.
> "I am the one who replaced you."
Before Sora could respond, the spear swept low, the movement cracking the living floor beneath them. A black mist bled from the fissure, tendrils writhing like smoke alive.
The black mist spread quickly, swallowing the dim lantern-light until it felt as though they were trapped inside the chest of some great beast.
The armored figure did not flinch. Instead, they planted the spear into the fractured ground and twisted it. The mist responded like a loyal hound, surging upward and wrapping around Sora's legs.
Eira shouted an incantation, thrusting her palm forward. Blue fire shot from her hand, searing through the fog, but the flames fizzled before touching the armored foe. "It's feeding on the Hollow Veins!" she cried. "The tunnel itself is turning against us!"
The walls began to ripple. Faces—twisted and half-formed—pressed out of the living stone, their mouths opening in silent screams. Tendrils of bone and sinew shot from the floor, snapping at ankles, reaching for throats.
Kaelen sliced through one, only for two more to take its place. Ryn vaulted over another, landing behind the armored figure, but the spear whipped around with inhuman speed, blocking her strike without the enemy even turning their head.
Sora's vision blurred as the mist climbed to his chest. Something inside it was whispering—not in words, but in raw feeling. Regret. Loss. An overwhelming weight of responsibility he didn't remember asking for.
The spear's tip hovered inches from his heart.
"Your time ended the moment you spared them," the figure said. "You weakened the chain. You let the rot spread. And now you've been given a second chance to make the same mistake."
"Maybe I will," Sora snapped, surprising even himself. "Because protecting them isn't a mistake."
His voice cut through the mist like a blade. For a moment, the fog recoiled, just enough for him to step forward. And when he did… his stance shifted again, effortlessly falling into a style that felt ancient yet familiar.
Somewhere deep in his bones, the memory of who he once was stirred—and answered.
The mist trembled as Sora's grip tightened around his weapon.
He didn't remember learning this stance—yet his body knew it with an instinct that felt older than the world itself.
Blue sparks bled from his fingertips, coiling around the hilt like living veins of lightning. They weren't warm like Eira's magic—they were cold, sharp, and hungry.
The armored figure tilted their head slightly. "Ah… so the echo still lingers."
Sora didn't respond. He lunged.
The world slowed. Every ripple in the mist, every twitch of the spear, every shifting shadow—he saw them all at once. His blade met the enemy's spear with a crack that sent shockwaves through the tunnel. The faces in the walls screamed and melted away, the tendrils snapping like brittle wood.
Kaelen staggered back, shielding his eyes from the burst of pale light. Ryn's mouth parted slightly. "…That's not the way you fight."
Eira didn't speak. She was staring at him as if she'd just seen a ghost—no, something worse.
The armored foe skidded back two steps, then dug the spear into the ground again. "I see now. You're not just a stray soul… you're one of them."
Sora froze. "One of who?"
But before the answer came, the ground shuddered violently. From deep below, a low, resonant boom echoed, followed by a second, louder one. The armored figure glanced upward, as though listening to a distant call.
"Our time is over… for now." The mist coiled around them like a cloak, and in a blink, they were gone—leaving only the fading whisper:
> "We'll see which side you choose… Demon Lord."
Sora's breath hitched.
The cold lightning faded from his hands, and his knees buckled. Eira caught him before he hit the floor, her voice trembling.
"What… are you, Sora?"
He didn't have an answer. Only that his heart was pounding—not from fear, but from the certainty that the battle had just awakened something dangerous inside him.
The air in the tunnel was still thick with the metallic tang of magic.
Drips of water fell from the jagged ceiling, echoing in the sudden silence.
Eira eased Sora down against the wall. "Don't move," she ordered, her usual calm replaced by something sharper—protective, but also wary.
Kaelen knelt beside him, checking for injuries. "No burns, no cuts… but your pulse is off the charts." He looked up at Eira. "That energy—whatever it was—doesn't belong in a human body."
Sora forced a weak laugh. "Good thing I'm not exactly human anymore, right?"
The joke fell flat.
Ryn crouched a few feet away, his crimson eyes fixed on Sora. "You fought like a predator. Not a soldier. Not a hero. More like… something that was born for killing."
Sora flinched at the words. He wanted to deny it, to insist he'd never—could never—be like that. But when he closed his eyes, he could still feel the cold lightning in his veins, the thrill of moving faster than thought. It had felt right.
Eira's voice cut through his thoughts. "We need to keep moving. Whatever that… thing was, it wasn't alone. And if the ground shakes again, this place will collapse."
They moved as a unit, but Sora could feel the subtle shift in the group's rhythm. Kaelen kept glancing back. Ryn stayed at his side, too close for comfort, his presence more like a guard than a companion. Even Eira walked with a slight distance, as though unsure what he might do if cornered.
At the next junction, the tunnel opened into a cavern lit by a single beam of pale, unnatural light from above. They paused to catch their breath.
Sora finally broke the silence. "Back there… when he called me a Demon Lord—"
"Don't," Eira interrupted sharply. "Not here. Not now."
Her gaze flicked upward toward the light. "We're not alone."
From the shadows at the cavern's edge, something began to move—slow, deliberate, and massive enough to make the ground tremble with each step.
The cavern floor quaked with a heavy, measured rhythm.
Shadows peeled away from the edges, folding into the shape of a colossal beast—thick, scaled, and towering over them like a living fortress. Its eyes burned a molten gold, casting flickering light on the jagged walls.
Kaelen raised his sword instinctively. "Everyone ready?"
Eira's gaze never left the creature. "This is no mindless guardian. It's waiting. Watching. Judging."
The beast's growl reverberated through the cavern, a low rumble that made the very air vibrate. It took a step forward, each movement shaking loose dust and small stones from the ceiling.
Sora felt the broken chain pulse against his palm—the blue heat a stark contrast to the beast's burning gaze.
"Why is it here?" Ryn whispered.
Eira's eyes narrowed. "Because it knows you. It's tied to your past, just as much as the armored figure."
The beast lowered its massive head, nostrils flaring as if smelling the air between them. Then it spoke—not with words, but a sudden, deep surge of feeling flooding Sora's mind:
> Prove yourself worthy, or be consumed.
Kaelen tightened his grip on his sword. "We fight, or we die."
Sora swallowed the lump in his throat. "Then let's make sure it's not us."
The cavern erupted into chaos as the beast lunged forward, jaws snapping like thunderclaps.
Kaelen rolled aside, slashing at the creature's thick-scaled foreleg. The sword bit deep, but the beast barely flinched, its golden eyes glowing with an ancient fury.
Ryn darted around, throwing blades aimed at the beast's eyes. One connected, drawing a furious roar, but the creature's focus stayed locked on Sora.
Sora's heart pounded—not just from fear, but from the burning energy coursing through his veins. The broken chain burned hotter, blue flames licking at his fingers as if urging him to unleash something buried deep.
Eira's voice cut through the roar. "Focus! The beast's strength comes from this cavern. If we can break its connection, it'll weaken."
The beast reared back, raising a massive claw that glowed with the same eerie light pulsing from the cavern walls.
Time seemed to slow for Sora. The world narrowed to the moment, the chain's heat searing into his bones.
He stepped forward, raising his hand—not in attack, but in command.
"Wait."
A hush fell over the cavern.
The beast paused, eyes locking with his.
Sora's voice was steady, echoing in the deep chamber.
"You don't have to do this. I'm not your enemy."
For a breathless moment, nothing moved—then the blue flames around Sora's chain surged, spreading like wildfire up his arm. The beast lowered its claw, the growl fading to a low rumble.
Kaelen and Ryn exchanged stunned glances.
Eira whispered, "He's not just fighting with power—he's commanding it."
The cavern shifted, the pulsing light softening. The beast bowed its massive head, stepping back into the shadows.
Sora exhaled, the fire in his palm dying down—but the sense of awakening only deepened.