The forest swallowed her. Each step of Brianna sank into damp leaves, the sound muffled by a thick mist that crawled close to the ground.
Her heart still hammered — not only from fear, but from the weight of what she heard. "Prince of the Abyss." The words echoed in her mind like an ancient omen.
She stopped for an instant, her body pressed against a twisted tree. The air smelled of iron and ashes. No birds, no sound.
Only the whisper of the wind among the dead leaves — and, somewhere distant, the sound of something moving.
Brianna raised her gaze. The shadows seemed to change shape, molding faces, bodies, echoes. Whirok could be in any of them.
"Running will not save you for long."
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for an instant. A distant memory crossed her mind — "Karna laughing, saying: "Wow… that place was creepy. There was a horrendous creature there...."
The memory was interrupted by a wave of energy that split the trees in half, scattering splinters of wood and burned leaves.
A flash of light shone behind, and for an instant she saw — among the shadows of the trees — the red eye of Whirok, fixed on her, distant, but relentless.
Brianna then kept running, her heart racing, her body fighting against the weight of fear. Each breath was a battle, each step a vow of survival.
The forest twisted in silence after the flash. Burned leaves fell slowly, touching the ground like ashes.
Whirok emerged among the broken trunks, slow steps, almost lazy. Each movement made the shadows around pulse, alive, as if they breathed with him.
The red eye shone for an instant, and then went out, leaving only the spectral glow of the cracks that opened in the ground where he passed.
"Weak... but stubborn," he murmured, the voice low, distorted, as if it came from many places at once.
He raised his head, and the air seemed to bend around him. The smell of ancient blood mixed with the dampness of the forest, and each tree seemed to bow to his passage.
For an instant, he stood still, watching the path Brianna took.Her breathing still echoed in the distance — hurried, tense, alive.
A slow smile formed beneath the hood.
"Keep running… I want to see how far you can go before you break."
The shadows moved with him, forming shapes of wings and claws that dissolved soon after.
But there was something else in his gaze — a flash of cold curiosity.
"This… feeling…" He pronounced it slowly, like one who savors an ancient memory. "It's been a long time since I've experienced it."
Whirok advanced, and the ground cracked beneath his feet, the Abyss pulsing through him like a living heart.
"Maybe devouring this woman won't be enough. Maybe enslaving her would be more fun."
He followed Brianna's tracks, dodging broken trunks and burned leaves. She still ran ahead of him, leaping over roots and stones, trying to gain distance.
Each of his steps drained the life around; leaves withered, the air grew denser, and the wind seemed to avoid his path.
He reached the entrance of a cave. The rough walls were covered in moss and veins of crystals that cast a faint greenish light, reflecting shadows that twisted as if they had life of their own.
Noticing signs of battle: rusted and broken blades scattered on the ground, traces of a past fight. He picked up one of the blades, the metal cold and heavy in his hand.
He expanded his shadows, which crawled along the floor and the walls, searching every corner. A few meters from Brianna, who stopped for an instant, looking at the black rift that swallowed the light among the trees. Now it was clear: her escape would end there — and he knew it.
He advanced with a smile.
"Where will my sweet Brianna be now…?" he whispered, his voice sliding through the debris like an invitation.
Ahead, a long staircase descended into darkness, each step bathed by a cold gleam from the stones embedded in the walls.
"Playing hide and seek with me… so cute, so fragile," he murmured, with a smile that only he could hear.
As he descended, he dragged the blade along the wall, producing a metallic echo that reverberated throughout the cave, like a deadly warning spreading through the stagnant air.
"Ah… but the game has just begun," he said, the voice low and amused, like one who foresees every move before it even happens.
"Each step I descend… is an invitation. A whisper for you to come to me. There is no escape, my little one." his words slipped between the clangs of the blade.
The darkness seemed to vibrate, the shadows waved and breathed around him, absorbing everything in their path, as he went deeper, leaving the forest alive only in distant memories, already condemned by the touch of his presence.
"Let's see… what will be your next move? Ah… I love when fear dances before me." and the sound of the blade cutting the stone seemed to accompany the muffled laughter.
At the end of the staircase, a huge ruined door stood before him, twisted ironwork and broken planks.
Crossing it, he entered a vast and dark corridor, marked by claw scratches, broken arrows, and shattered blades on the floor. The smell of rot filled the air.
At the end of the corridor, a door rose before him, covered with inscriptions in an unknown language. Whirok tilted his head, observing the symbols, and murmured with a tone of dark amusement:
"Looks like they had fun here while I was in the Solvania Empire…"
He raised his hands over the wood, and the shadows twisted, swallowing the door. When they disappeared, before him was a macabre space, made for sacrifices.
Rusty chains hung from the ceiling like silent fangs, swaying lightly, waiting for a victim.
In the center of the circle engraved on the floor, Brianna stood with her back to him. She raised her hands, covering her face, and her voice came out weak, almost a whisper:
"Please… don't kill me. I'll do anything."
Whirok gave a cold smile, like one who savors each moment, and advanced. As soon as he entered, a ripple passed through the environment — invisible, implacable.
Instinctively, he tried to step back, but something stopped him; it seemed like an invisible barrier, impenetrable. A moment of surprise crossed his gaze — he couldn't leave.
Turning slowly, he faced Brianna. Her gaze was firm, cold, but there was a slight smile on her lips.
He raised his hands, trying to shape the shadows to attack her, but they refused to obey. The silence of the room was absolute, heavy, almost suffocating.
With a low, firm, and serene voice, almost a whisper filled with irony:
"Here, the one who sets the rules is me… neither you nor your shadows have a turn."
Whirok arched an eyebrow, the smile widening with a mixture of amusement and danger.
"How? Until now I could feel your fear… impossible..."
Brianna lifted her chin, relentless, every muscle under control, looking at him like someone who had already calculated every move.
"To deceive your enemy, first deceive yourself."
He laughed low, that laugh that chilled the spine, echoing through the space like a promise of chaos.
"From the beginning… you weren't afraid, you just wanted to lure me somewhere else."
"Exactly," said Brianna, the voice sharp, cold, sure of every syllable, "when I found out that you were someone like Ereon, I knew it would be complicated to face you… and impossible for a war at the same time."
Whirok slowly removed his cloak, each gesture measured, as if playing with the light and shadows around him. The darkness of the place seemed to recede before him, and then Brianna noticed.
The black, messy hair fell over his face, partially covering his eyes — one red, the other black, hypnotic and menacing.
The crooked and provocative smile revealed someone who was always in control. The red jacket with light lining hung from his shoulders, the thin golden necklace with pendants glinting slightly, while the long earrings swayed with every movement, following the silent rhythm of his arrogance.
"So you know how my ability works…" he said, the tone calm but filled with threat, the smile with that touch of superiority that made anyone measure their steps.
"I know," answered Brianna, without hesitation, her eyes calculating, measuring every detail, "you invade minds through fear or any shadow that clouds human feelings."
He tilted his head, studying her, the tip of the sword sliding along the wall like someone testing the air, playing with the tension.
"With that, you used your own darkness to make me believe."
Whirok hit the tip of the sword on his shoulder with a dry snap.
"But you also can't use magic here, can you?" he said, light, almost amused. "And your only exit is right behind me."
Brianna drew her daggers with a quick and precise movement, which was at the same time a promise and a sentence.
"That won't be a problem."
He smiled, as if he already knew the ending of that. Then lunged.
The blade cut the air with speed, each movement loaded with aggression. Brianna ducked with precise reflexes, dodging the first blow, the daggers appearing as extensions of her arms. Each thrust was measured, lethal, aiming for vital points.
Whirok advanced with strength, quick and direct attacks, each strike a challenge, each thrust a provocation. The clang of metal echoed through the space, mixing with the sound of the daggers cutting the air.
She spun, scraping a dagger along his shoulder, feeling the heat of the contact. He stepped back, laughing low, the crooked smile ever-present, and responded with a downward strike that Brianna barely managed to block.
Move after move, dodge after dodge, the combat unfolded like a deadly dance.
Each studied the other, testing limits and reflexes. She struck a quick cut on the side of his jacket, he responded with an aggressive spin, almost knocking her down, but Brianna rolled, ready to attack again.
For an instant, they stood face to face, breathing with difficulty, each gaze measuring the next move. The tension was almost physical, the air charged with danger — and still neither of them yielded.