[Nagumo's POV]
He didn't know how long he'd been underground.
To him, it felt like an eternity.
Time had lost all meaning—there was only pain, suffocating darkness, and the harsh sound of his own ragged breathing echoing inside the narrow space he'd carved out for himself.
The air was damp and heavy, thick with the smell of blood.
Every time he tried to move, agony tore through him.
Even though his arm was gone, phantom pain screamed up his shoulder as if it were still there, burning, twisting, refusing to let him forget what he had lost.
His body trembled uncontrollably, warmth steadily seeping away as more blood soaked into the stone he'd transmuted around himself.
He pressed his back against the tunnel wall, teeth clenched, trying not to scream from the pain when—
*Boom*
The ground shook violently.
Dust rained down from the ceiling of his cramped tunnel as another thunderous impact echoed through the cavern beyond. The stone beneath his hand vibrated, the tremor running through his entire body.
That wasn't the bear clawing anymore. It was something else.
"…Is it fighting something?" he whispered hoarsely.
He pressed his remaining hand flat against the rock wall. The vibration came again—each impact heavier than the last. With every tremor, more panic surged through him.
'No… don't come this way…' He repeated within his mind.
A roar tore through the cavern, deep and furious. He clenched his teeth, dread flooding his chest as his thoughts spiraled. He braced himself, preparing for the worst.
When a unfamiliar sound cut through the chaos.
It was a voice, a person's voice.
His breath caught.
Slowly, carefully, he reshaped the stone in front of him, widening it just enough to create a thin slit, allowing him to see outside of his tunnel.
What he saw stole the breath from his lungs.
The bear was there. Even from a distance, its presence was overwhelming—an enormous white-furred monstrosity that radiated pure killing intent. Just looking at it made every instinct in his body scream at him to run.
But, it wasn't alone. A person stood in front of it.
He didn't recognize him. Before he could question who the man was—or how anyone could still be alive down here—the bear charged.
The man didn't move like a mage or a typical melee fighter. There was no chanting. No glowing magic circles. No mana flowing through the air.
Instead, something pressed outward from his body.
He sucked in a sharp breath. "What… is that?" he muttered.
The air around the man—distorted, it was heavy and oppressive, like standing too close to a roaring furnace.
It felt… powerful.
The bear struck once more.
He flinched as Sylas was sent flying, stone exploding where his body slammed into the cavern wall.
His stomach twisted violently.
That's it—'he's dead,' he thought.
But Sylas stood back up.
Blood streamed down his chest, soaking into torn fabric. His body shook with exhaustion and pain—and yet, he didn't retreat. He charged back in.
He watched in stunned silence as Sylas fought the monster head-on—dodging claws by inches, striking its body with his bare hands, getting thrown aside again and again.
Each time Sylas was hit, His own body tensed, phantom pain flaring violently in his missing arm.
"Why isn't he running…?" He whispered to himself. "How… how is he fighting that thing…? Isn't he afraid to die."
Then—
Sylas vanished.
For a split second, he felt nothing from him.
No pressure. No presence. Nothing.
His eyes widened, "…He disappeared?"
Sylas reappeared beneath the bear in a burst of invisible force, slamming upward into its skull. There was no flash of light, or explosion—just a heavy, crushing impact.
The bear screamed.
A sound filled with confusion and agony.
Cracks spread across its skull like shattered glass.
He watched as the Abyss Bear—the nightmare that had torn his arm away, that had dragged him into hell—collapsed onto the stone floor like a mountain crumbling into dust.
Silence followed.
His hands trembled. "It's… dead?" he whispered, repeating the words slowly as if testing them.
His breath hitched as the realization finally sank in.
His vision blurred as tears spilled uncontrollably down his dirt-streaked face.
He didn't understand that power. He didn't understand why there was another person down here.
All he knew was that, for the first time since falling into the abyss, the crushing weight on his chest eased—just a little.
"…Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
[End POV]
Still feeling the lingering effects of overusing his Nen, Sylas slowly pushed himself up from the floor.
He turned and looked down at the now dead bear. "Not done yet," he said quietly to himself.
Nagumo's heart skipped. "What…what is he doing?" he whispered.
Sylas grabbed the bear by one of its massive forelimbs. Muscles tensed, veins popping out as he dragged the enormous corpse across towards a wall.
No—toward him.
'Why is he coming over here with that thing?' Nagumo thought frantically.
Panic surged. His breath hitched as he scrambled backward in the narrow tunnel, hugging his body with his remaining arm.
"No—no—no—please—" he muttered quietly. The corpse stopped just a few feet away from his makeshift tunnel.
Sylas tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, as if listening.
*Thump*
He knocked his knuckles against the rock wall.
"I know you're in there," he said calmly. "You can come out. It's dead."
Dead.
The word echoed uselessly in Nagumo's mind as his body refused to respond instead, thinking about the worse possibilities.
'What if he's worse? What if he's not human? What if—'
"Hey," Sylas added, his voice softer now, but still serious. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
Nagumo swallowed hard.
With trembling fingers, he pressed his hand against the stone. Slowly—painfully—he reshaped it, widening the opening just enough for Sylas to see him.
Nagumo collapsed forward as the stone gave way, barely catching himself before hitting the ground. Blood poured freely from his severed arm as shock and exhaustion finally overwhelmed him.
Sylas's eyes widened.
"…Damn," he muttered.
He dropped the bear's arm immediately and rushed over, kneeling beside him.
"Hey—hey, don't pass out," Sylas said quickly, gripping Nagumo's shoulder. "Stay with me."
Nagumo's vision swam. The world felt distant, muffled.
"You…" he rasped. "What… are you…?"
Sylas hesitated for a moment before replying, "We'll talk about that later."
Nagumo let out a weak, broken laugh that turned into a cough, pain tearing through his chest.
"That thing…" he whispered, eyes drifting to the corpse. "It took my arm…"
Sylas followed his gaze. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I noticed."
He shrugged off his ripped jacket and pressed it firmly against the stump, applying pressure. Nagumo cried out as pain ran through what remained of his arm.
"You're bleeding out," Sylas said as he applied pressure to the arm, "You die if I don't do this."
Nagumo clenched his teeth, tears streaming as he nodded weakly.
"Good," Sylas muttered, tightening the jacket.
Nagumo's breathing slowly steadied—just a little.
"…Thank you," he whispered again.
"Don't thank me yet," Sylas said, glancing toward the dark tunnels beyond the cavern.
Nagumo stared at him, fear and fragile hope tangled tightly in his chest.
For the first time since falling into the abyss, he wasn't alone.
And somehow…
That terrified him almost as much as it comforted him.
To be Continued…