Darkness. Cold, unrelenting darkness.
His eyes snapped open, but it felt like waking up from a nightmare only to realize the nightmare hadn't ended—it had merely paused. The suffocating air of the abyss surrounded him, pressing against his skin like invisible hands trying to drag him back down.
His body was cold, yet drenched in sweat. His breath came in sharp gasps, and the moment he tried to move, a dull, pounding pain shot through his chest. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together with rusted wire.
A faint, lingering warmth still clung to his skin—his mother's embrace. Her words still echoed in his mind, but they felt like a fragile thread barely keeping him together.
He barely managed to push himself up, his trembling hands pressing against the cold, crystal-covered ground. His fingers curled into fists, gripping onto the only thing keeping him anchored—his own existence. The moment he tried to shift his weight, a sharp pain shot through his ribs, forcing him to pause.
His ears were ringing. His head throbbed. He could taste something metallic on his tongue—blood.
Slowly, cautiously, he tilted his head downward and saw small streaks of red staining the white crystal beneath him. He lifted his fingers to his face, touching just below his nose—more blood. A sick realization crawled up his spine.
He hadn't been wounded. This was from pure, unfiltered fear. His body had hemorrhaged. His capillaries had burst. His body had nearly shut down just from the sheer presence of the King of the Abyss.
That was the kind of creature he was dealing with.
His stomach twisted at the memory of those golden, abyssal eyes—pupilless, emotionless, and indifferent. It had only opened its eyes, and yet his body had betrayed him, almost killing him in the process.
Even now, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. His breathing was uneven, unstable. The terror was still there, lurking deep inside his chest, waiting for the moment he let his guard down.
It would be so easy to give up.
It would be so easy to accept that this place was a graveyard, and he was just another skeleton waiting to happen.
But—
"You are the indomitable light."
The words cut through his thoughts like a blade, bringing him back.
He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to breathe slower, deeper. His nails dug into his palms, grounding himself in the pain.
He wasn't dead.
His body was screaming, his instincts were begging him to curl into a ball and stay still, to never move again.
But he had to.
He had to push through.
"I don't remember giving birth to such a pessimistic boy."
A shaky breath left his lips. He wiped the blood from his mouth and took a slow, deep breath. His heart still hammered against his ribs, but it wasn't as erratic as before. The ringing in his ears dulled slightly.
His mother was right.
This fear—it wasn't some divine force. It wasn't an absolute law.
It was just a feeling.
And feelings could be conquered.
Step by step.
First, he had to move.
He slowly shifted his weight and forced himself onto his knees. His legs still felt weak, his arms felt like lead, but he pushed through.
He wouldn't look back.
He wouldn't look down.
He knew what was behind him, lying in the abyss. He knew that if he so much as glanced in that direction, the terror would seize him again, strangling him from the inside out.
So he focused on the wall ahead.
He had climbed this wall before. He could do it again.
His fingers curled around the rough surface of the crystal, his knuckles turning white. He pulled himself up, his muscles groaning in protest. His feet found purchase, and with slow, steady movements, he began scaling the wall again.
Every inch felt like a war against his own body.
His heart screamed at him to stop, but he didn't listen. His mind whispered that he would fall, that he would fail, but he ignored it.
He climbed.
He climbed because he had no other choice.
"You have to get out of that darkness and find your light."
And so he would.
His hands grasped onto a sturdy ledge. He was almost there. Just a little more—
Then, the world shook.
A deep, rumbling tremor rolled through the cave, making the crystal wall vibrate beneath his fingers.
His breath caught in his throat. He froze.
And then—
A deafening roar filled the abyss.
A force like a hurricane erupted behind him, sending hundreds of tons of dust, debris, and loose shards of crystal flying. The very air howled, as if reality itself had been torn apart.
It wasn't an explosion.
It wasn't an earthquake.
"Did it just exhale?"
His stomach lurched.
He was falling.
Again.
The abyss rushed up to meet him, an endless chasm of death.
"No—no—no—!"
[Air Kick!!]
He twisted his body, forcing himself to kick mid-air. The sudden burst of movement redirected his fall, sending him hurtling towards the exit but then-
The shockwave hit him like a battering ram. He felt his grip loosen—his body ripped away mid air, thrown towards the ceiling like a ragdoll.
He slammed against it hard, very hard. Pain surged through his entire body.
His chest heaved.
His eyes widened.
A shining crystal shard was jutting out of his lower torso.
A clean, brutal impalement.
Blood trickled down, dripping from the wound, pooling onto the wall below. His fingers twitched, his breath shuddered
The pain set in.
A white-hot agony tore through him, so sharp and overwhelming that his body nearly gave out entirely.
As his mind tried what just happened, all he could do was stare at the glowing, blood-stained crystal piercing through his flesh.