The Dead Realm wasn't what Dark expected. It wasn't an abyss of nothingness, nor was it an endless sea of pain and torment. It was... still. The air felt heavy, like it had absorbed the weight of countless souls who had passed through this place. The sky above was a muted gray, stretching infinitely with no sign of a horizon. The ground beneath Dark's feet was a cold, colorless stone, cracked and worn from the passage of time and countless souls who had walked before him. The air had a chill that clung to his skin, a constant reminder that this place was devoid of life.
Dark's footsteps echoed in the vast silence as he wandered aimlessly through the Dead Realm. It felt as though this place wasn't bound by any rules of time or space; it simply was. He had no sense of how long he had been walking, nor did he know where he was going. The figures that roamed around him were shadowy, drifting aimlessly like wraiths. There was no sense of purpose, no direction—only an endless, hollow existence.
Dark: (thinking) This place... Is this what death is? Just... nothing?
He continued to walk, his mind reeling with questions. The Dead Realm was unlike anything he had ever experienced—no pain, no fear, no joy, just an overwhelming numbness that threatened to consume him. He tried to remember how he had died. The last thing he recalled was the fierce battle with Nen, and then... nothing. Now he was here, in this cold, lifeless place.
As Dark walked, he saw something in the distance—a figure, more distinct than the others, standing still in the midst of the moving shadows. He squinted, trying to make out the details, and his heart sank as he recognized the familiar face. It was Lozus, a student from the Academy. He had been killed by Sukojo when Sukojo was controlling Dark's body. Guilt gnawed at Dark's chest as he approached him.
Dark: Lozus...
Lozus turned, his expression vacant at first, but recognition flickered in his eyes. He smiled weakly.
Lozus: Dark... I didn't expect to see you here. Guess you're dead too, huh?
Dark: Yeah... I guess so.
Lozus sighed, the sound empty, almost as if it had been pulled from him rather than something he chose to express.
Lozus: It's strange, being dead. You expect there to be something more—some kind of peace, or a higher understanding, but... there's just this.
Dark: This? What do you mean?
Lozus gestured around them, at the endless gray landscape.
Lozus: The Dead Realm. It's not what they tell you in stories. There's no paradise, no eternal suffering. Just... this. A quiet emptiness. You can wander for eternity, and nothing changes. You can think and remember, but there's no life here. No warmth. It's like... like you're stuck in a dream you can never wake up from.
Dark looked around, the coldness of the place seeping into him. He had never imagined death could be so... dull. So devoid of anything.
Dark: Is there really nothing here? No purpose, no end?
Lozus: No. You just... exist. Or maybe you don't. It's hard to tell after a while.
Dark: How long have you been here?
Lozus chuckled darkly.
Lozus: Time doesn't really mean anything here. Could be days, could be years. It all blurs together.
Dark: I'm... I'm sorry, Lozus. What happened to you... that was—
Lozus raised a hand, cutting him off.
Lozus: It wasn't you, Dark. I know that. It was Sukojo, and I know he was controlling you. I've had a lot of time to think about it... and honestly, I've come to terms with it. We were all caught up in something bigger than any of us could handle.
Dark nodded, though the guilt still weighed heavily on him.
Dark: I never wanted this. Any of this.
Lozus: I know. None of us did. But here we are.
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the Dead Realm pressing down on them. Dark could feel the pull of this place, the temptation to just... fade into it. To let go and become another wandering soul lost in the void. But something inside him resisted. There was still a fire burning within him, a need to fight, to survive.
As they continued their conversation, a presence began to emerge from the shadows. Dark's senses tingled, and he turned to see a small group of figures approaching. These weren't like the aimless souls drifting through the realm; they were more defined, more present. Their eyes gleamed with a strange light, and their movements were deliberate. They walked with purpose.
Dark tensed, preparing for a confrontation, but Lozus raised a hand, signaling him to stand down.
Lozus: It's okay. They're like us—just dead souls trying to find their way.
The group approached, and the leader, a tall figure with pale skin and long, flowing hair, stepped forward. His eyes were a deep, unsettling shade of violet, and he regarded Dark with a curious expression.
Figure: (calmly) You're new here, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. You still have that spark... that hope. It won't last long.
Dark: (coldly) Who are you?
Figure: My name is Iraen. I've been here... well, let's just say I've been here long enough to know that hope is a fleeting thing in this place.
Iraen's voice was smooth, almost hypnotic, as if he had spent centuries honing the art of conversation. Dark could sense the weight of countless years in his tone.
Iraen: (smirking) We're all just wandering here, you know. Waiting for something. Waiting for nothing. It's all the same. But you... you're different. You don't belong here.
Dark narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively moving to where his weapon would have been, though he knew it wasn't there.
Dark: What makes you say that?
Iraen: Because you still have life left in you. You're not like us, trapped in this endless limbo. You can still go back... if you choose to.
Dark: (bitterly) Go back? How? I'm dead, aren't I?
Iraen chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling amusement.
Iraen: Death is a funny thing. It's not always as final as people think. Sometimes, it's just a door. And some doors... can be reopened.
Before Dark could respond, a sudden gust of wind tore through the Dead Realm, scattering the shadows and sending a chill down his spine. The ground trembled, and a portal of swirling, dark energy ripped open in the sky above them. The air crackled with power as the portal pulsed with an eerie light, casting long, twisted shadows across the landscape.
Out of the portal stepped a figure clad in black armor, his presence commanding and ominous. His eyes glowed with a deep, otherworldly light, and his aura radiated power. Dark recognized him immediately. It was Zyke, a member of the Death Empire—an entity that dealt with the balance of life and death. Dark had met him before, during one of his earlier battles with cosmic forces. Zyke was not someone you easily forgot.
Zyke: (calmly) Dark. You don't belong here.
Dark frowned, confused.
Dark: Zyke... What are you doing here?
Zyke: You're not dead yet. At least, not in the way that matters. You have a purpose left to fulfill, and it's not in this realm.
Dark: What the hell are you talking about? I was killed. I felt it. I know I'm dead.
Zyke smirked, an expression that was both unsettling and reassuring at the same time.
Zyke: Death is a tricky thing. It's not always as final as people think. You've been given a rare opportunity, Dark. You can cheat death this once. But you need to go back.
Dark: Go back? How?
Zyke didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached out, grabbing Dark by the collar. With a sudden, forceful movement, Zyke kicked Dark into the swirling portal. The force of the kick sent Dark hurtling through the portal, the Dead Realm fading away into nothingness as the colors and sounds of the real world began to return.
As Dark fell through the portal, the sensation of being pulled between realms overwhelmed him. He saw flashes of different worlds—endless plains of sand, towering cities made of light, dark forests filled with shadowy creatures. It was as if the portal was pulling him through every possible reality, trying to find the one he belonged to.
But then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Dark found himself lying on the cold, hard ground. The sensation of warmth began to return to his limbs, and he gasped for air, his eyes snapping open as he realized he was back in his own body. The chill of the Dead Realm was gone, replaced by the familiar warmth of life.
He was alive again.
Dark: (gasping) What... what the hell just happened?
The Dead Realm melted away into nothingness, the shadows and cold dissolving into a blur of sensations. Dark could feel his body being pulled, stretched across dimensions, before the world snapped back into place.
Suddenly, he was back—alive. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself lying on the cold, hard ground. The familiar weight of his body settled in, the warmth of life slowly returning to his limbs.
Dark: (groaning) What the hell was that?
He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting as he regained his bearings. The memories of the Dead Realm were still fresh in his mind, but now, he was here—back in the world of the living.
He took a deep breath, letting the reality of it all sink in.
End of Arc 2 Chapter 7.