The air is thick with an unnerving stillness, and the only sound is the strained breath of Gargeal, who, with an instinctual snap, opens his eyes wide.

His heartbeat pounds in his chest, a sense of terror rising as his hands grip the cold hilt of his greatsword.

The world around him is wrong.

Red, black, and white—unnatural, suffocating hues swirl in the air, a dizzying mix of colors that don't belong in any world he'd ever known. The ground beneath him is jagged and alien, a void that stretches on, no real horizon or sky to be seen. His breath is calm, a rush of panic rising, but he pushes it aside.

There are more pressing matters.

Gargeal, his voice low but filled with urgency, mutters to himself.

"What is this?"

His gaze flicks around, scanning the strange, distorted landscape.

And then, his focus sharpens as he sees them—his companions, scattered on the ground, unmoving.

His heart lurches.

Andhur, Yzavynne, Leeani, and Qarek are all there, unconscious, their bodies contorted unnaturally on the strange, darkened soil. Their eyes are closed, their chests rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Gargeal whispers, the relief flooding him.

"No... they're alive."

But it's short-lived. He can't let himself get comfortable.

Not yet.

Gargeal quickly straps his greatsword to his back and moves toward them with purpose. One by one, he checks each of their vitals. His hands are firm as they rest on their chests and necks, confirming their shallow breaths, but there's something unsettling about the air.

"Good," Gargeal mutters.

"You're all fine. But you need to wake up now."

Without hesitation, Gargeal slaps each of them lightly on the cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to rouse them from unconsciousness. He shakes their shoulders gently, trying to rouse them.

Andhur is the first to stir, his eyes fluttering open. He blinks several times, disoriented, before locking his gaze on Gargeal.

Andhur's voice is hoarse, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Where am I?"

Qarek follows suit, sitting up suddenly, his war axe clutched tightly in his hands as though he had been ready to strike. He looks around with wide eyes, realizing something is terribly wrong.

Qarek's voice trembles as he scans their surroundings.

"Master? What just happened? The stone statues that Captain mentioned, they appeared all of the sudden and then we're here."

Yzavynne opens her eyes next, her confusion evident as she blinks at Gargeal, taking in the strange, distorted world around them.

"Master?" she says again, her voice distant.

"Where are we?"

But Leeani... she is the last to awaken, and when she does, it's with a jarring, high-pitched scream that shreds through the tense silence.

Her eyes fly open, and she looks around wildly, her breathing erratic and ragged.

The overwhelming strangeness of the environment, the sheer unnaturalness of it all, pushes her into a panic she cannot control.

"AAAAHHH!"

Her body jerks and trembles as the feeling of suffocating terror grips her.

But the true horror is what happens next.

Gargeal watches in stunned silence, his heart sinking in his chest as Leeani's face contorts with distress, her eyes wide and filled with unspeakable fear. Blood begins to pour from her eyes, her nose, her mouth, and soon, from every orifice of her body. The sight is grotesque—like something out of a nightmare, and he can't look away.

Gargeal calls out to her, his voice cracking with panic, as he steps forward, reaching for her.

"Leeani! Calm down!"

But it's too late.

The sight of her blood pouring uncontrollably from every opening in her body drives something primal into the others.

Yzavynne, who had been the calmest of them all moments ago, now feels the rush of emotions flood her system.

The pressure, the fear—everything pushes her to the brink, and it's as though the very air itself is suffocating her. Tears begin to streak down her face as blood pours from her nose and mouth, and she stumbles, her breath ragged and quick.

Yzavynne cries out, her voice strained and panicked.

"Leeani!"

But the words fall on deaf ears, and she can barely control her own fear.

"Look at me! Calm down! We'll be fine!"

Qarek's hands grip his war axe tighter, his entire body shaking. He stumbles back, eyes wide with terror.

He cries, his voice shaky, the fear starting to consume him.

"Somebody make her stop!" he cries, his voice shaky, the fear consuming him.

But there's nothing they can do.

The madness of the atmosphere is too strong.

Andhur grits his teeth, his chest heaving as he watches Leeani writhing in agony.

He curses under his breath, his grip tightening on his glaive.

"Shit!"

The pressure is almost too much to bear. He wants to help, but what can they do in a place like this?

The terror—it's swallowing them whole.

Qarek's voice cracks, his face pale with fear as he stumbles backward, feeling the blood begin to trickle from his own body.

"Gods, what the hell is this?!"

Blood drips from his mouth, his nose, and his ears as the overwhelming emotions bleed through him like poison.

Leeani's scream intensifies, echoing into the vast, oppressive void.

Her body shakes violently as she struggles to breathe, each breath a shuddering rasp. And yet, the blood continues to pour, soaking the ground beneath her, her once-pristine form now a grotesque image of suffering.

Gargeal stands there, frozen, a mixture of disbelief and fury twisting his features. He can't understand what's happening, what this place is, but he knows that they have no time.

Their lives are slipping away in front of him, and he feels utterly helpless.

He rushes to Leeani, his hands gripping her shoulders, trying to steady her, but her body jerks violently, her chest heaving.

The blood continues to pour, and there is nothing they can do.

Gargeal's voice is strained with raw emotion.

"Leeani... stop! You have to stop this!"

Gargeal stood, his body taut with a mixture of confusion and instinct.

His mind raced as he watched Leeani's horrific suffering and the out-of-control bleeding that had consumed her—and the others, too. His heart pounded in his chest, but he quickly set it aside, pushing the fear into the depths of his mind.

In this world of madness, there was no room for panic.

Only clarity, if he could find it.

He stared at Leeani, her body convulsing with each breath as blood poured from every orifice. The sight of her bleeding was a maddening, grotesque image, and he couldn't let himself become lost in the horror of it.

Not when there was still hope.

Gargeal's focus shifted, honing in on what he knew best: strategy.

His mind began to work through the puzzle, his years of experience sharpening his thoughts.

"Andhur. Don't become affected by what's happening to them. It's like a snowball process. One gets affected, and the others do, too. It's almost like a virus, in a way. At least that's what I'm getting at."

Andhur's eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the words. His face was pale, but he steadied himself, nodding slowly.

"Right, master!"

His grip on his glaive tightened, his breathing steadying as he followed Gargeal's advice. He wasn't going to succumb to this madness.

He couldn't afford to.

Gargeal's gaze remained on Leeani, his fists clenching.

"For now, let's make them stop this. We can't let this spiraling chaos consume them, too."

He didn't wait for a reply.

Instead, he turned to focus on his next task: calming the others. He needed to act fast before the contagion spread further.

Andhur moved quickly, turning toward Yzavynne and Qarek, who were still writhing in pain, blood spilling from their bodies.

Yzavynne's face was pale, and she cried out in desperate panic. Her voice was high-pitched, broken with fear, but Andhur wasn't about to let her drown in that terror.

"Help! Help! Help me, Andhur!"

He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, holding her in place with a surprising gentleness given the intensity of the situation.

His voice was firm, commanding her attention.

"Look at me, Yzavynne. Look at me."

Her eyes, frantic and wide with terror, locked onto him.

"Qarek! Qarek's—"

"Focus on me," Andhur interrupted, his tone calm and steady despite the madness around them.

"You can't control the blood right now, right? But you can control your mind. Breathe, Yzavynne. Breathe, deep breaths. Slowly."

She nodded through gritted teeth, trying to follow his instructions.

But it wasn't easy.

She was shaking, her body trembling as she fought to breathe, to stop the bleeding that consumed her.

Andhur's voice softened.

"You're strong. You can do this."

Yzavynne's panic started to subside, just a little. Andhur didn't stop.

He took her hands gently and placed them on her chest.

"Feel your heart. Focus on the rhythm. Breathe with it. In... out... in..."

Qarek, who had been flailing in a panic next to Yzavynne, began to calm as he heard Andhur's steady voice.

His voice was strained, his entire body trembling as blood poured from his nose, ears, eyes, and mouth.

"What is this?!"

Andhur turned to him, his face still calm.

"Qarek, look at me."

Qarek's head snapped toward him, eyes wide with fear, and blood spilled from the corners of his mouth.

Andhur reached out, placing a hand gently on Qarek's shoulder.

"It's okay. You're not alone in this."

His tone was low and soothing.

"We're all going through this together. You can control your breathing. You just need to focus on it."

Slowly, Qarek's eyes began to lose their frantic edge.

He was still pale, blood still dripping from his body, but his breath began to slow, and the panic loosened its grip just enough for him to focus on the simple act of breathing.

"Good," Andhur murmured.

"Breathe. Focus on breathing."

There was a long moment of silence, save for the occasional gasp for air.

Yzavynne and Qarek's breathing slowly became steadier, less frantic. Their bodies were still shaking, but the blood flow had slowed, and the horrific torrents from their eyes, ears, mouth, and nose began to taper off.

Andhur took a step back, watching them with relief.

"It's stopping."

He knew it wasn't over, but it was a start.

Gargeal, still watching Leeani with a sharp gaze, knew the others were calming down, but the real test was with her. She was in worse shape than the others, her entire body still wracked with trembling, and her blood was a horrific sight.

Without hesitation, Gargeal moved forward, kneeling down beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but not forceful.

Leeani's body continued to shake uncontrollably, her face still contorted in agony. Blood poured from her eyes, nose, and mouth, spilling onto the ground around her, painting the earth in a chillingly dark hue.

"Leeani!" Gargeal said.

"Stop. Calm down."

Leeani's eyes were wide with terror as she looked up at him, her breath ragged and uneven. Blood poured down her cheeks.

"Calm down," Gargeal repeated.

"Breathe. You need to breathe, Leeani. Deep breaths. Slow breaths."

For a moment, it seemed like his words didn't reach her.

Her body twitched, spasmed, the terror too much to handle. Gargeal felt his heart race as he thought she might slip into madness completely.

But he wouldn't give up.

He couldn't.

"Breathe. We're here."

Leeani's chest heaved, struggling with each breath.

But slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to slow. Her twitching eased, and the shaking of her body became less violent. Gargeal's hand remained steady on her, urging her to focus.

"You're not alone," he murmured again.

"We're all here."

The blood began to stop, slowly but surely.

Leeani's breathing became more even, and the blood from her mouth, nose, and eyes began to slow. The worst of it was over.

Gargeal let out a long, slow breath of his own.

It was an exhausting, painful process, but they were alive.

They were still alive.

And that was the only thing that mattered.

Gargeal looked up at Andhur, who had successfully calmed the others.

He muttered, before returning his attention to Leeani.

"Good job."

The bleeding had stopped, and she was finally breathing steadily.

Andhur looked back, a strained smile crossing his face.

"We're not out of it yet."

"No," Gargeal said.

"But we're still here. And that's enough for now."

Qarek gripped his war axe tightly, his knuckles whitening against the darkened, metallic surface. His chest heaved as he paced slightly, trying to release the storm brewing within.

"Just when I thought," Qarek began, his voice breaking as he struggled to find the words.

"Just when I thought that all of us would finally get a break at EmberWind Village, then this shit happens. This fucking nightmare. Things just keep getting uglier and uglier for us."

His axe slammed into the dirt, sending a dull thud echoing in the heavy silence.

The others watched him cautiously, not daring to interrupt as he continued.

"Is this the fate of our rebellion? Of standing up for what's right? We don't fight for glory or greed; we fight because someone has to. And yet, here we are. Torn apart, broken, and still running from the consequences of a fight we didn't even start. Is this what we get for standing against the kings and their madness? Is this the price of trying to make things right?"

"Woah, big words, Qarek," Andhur interjected lightly, though his expression betrayed worry.

"You need to breathe, man. Calm it down."

Qarek's gaze darted to Andhur, and for a moment, it seemed like he might lash out.

But instead, he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head.

"Ha ha ha ha. Calm? How the hell am I supposed to stay calm? None of them leave us alone. The kings, the kingdoms, the people, Selene, Evelori, and now this?! Whatever this is?!"

He gestured wildly at the blood-red skies above, the ominous, oppressive realm around them.

"This thing—this hellhole—pushing us closer to the edge every second! It's just! It's just too much!"

Yzavynne and Leeani exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions softening. His words struck something deep within them, a reflection of their own fears, anger, and exhaustion.

Gargeal stood nearby, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever.

Yet there was a faint shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment of Qarek's despair. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, unyielding, but calm.

"We need to find them—the others. They might be needing us just as much, if not more, than we need each other right now."

Qarek's vision suddenly blurred, the edges of his surroundings fading into hazy shapes and colors. His legs buckled beneath him, and with a soft thud, he collapsed to his knees, the war axe slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground with a clang.

Yzavynne cried out, rushing to his side.

"Qarek!"

Leeani and Andhur followed, each grabbing hold of him to steady his shaking form. His head hung low, his hand clutching his temple as if trying to push away the overwhelming pain and frustration.

Andhur crouched down beside him.

"Qarek, are you okay? What's happening?"

Qarek's breaths came in uneven gasps, and for a moment, he hesitated to respond.

Then, in a voice heavy with pain, he said.

"I'm... I'm just not okay. I'm not okay, Andhur. I haven't been for a long time. And even now, I can't take a breather—I can't find a single moment of peace! Goddammit!"

Yzavynne knelt beside him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Qarek, why are you so hot-headed right now? Is something bothering you?"

"Yeah," Leeani added softly, her worry clear in her voice.

"Why have you been like this? You've been so tense."

Qarek's head shot up, and for the first time, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His voice trembled as he tried to speak, choking on the weight of his emotions.

"It's because—because of everything! This isn't the life I wanted! This isn't why I followed the captain. I followed him to fight for what's right, because I knew—I knew—that no one else would. No one else would step into the darkness, into this cruel, gruesome path, unless we did. But now... now I'm here, and I'm slowly losing my senses. Losing myself."

His voice cracked, and he let out a shaky sob, his fists clenching as if trying to hold himself together.

"This fucking, this nightmare. It's breaking me."

And then, as if his strength finally gave out, Qarek collapsed fully into the arms of his companions.

Gargeal's voice cut through the tension, low and steady. He stepped closer, his stoic mask softening ever so slightly.

"Qarek."

"I'm sorry," Qarek murmured weakly.

"Master, I'm sorry for not telling you—or the others. But the emotional and mental toll of this fight, of this life. It just keeps bottling up. I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

Yzavynne and Leeani both tried to comfort him, their own eyes shimmering with tears as they held onto him tightly.

"You're not alone," Andhur said softly, gripping Qarek's arm firmly but gently.

"You're not alone in this. Don't forget that."

Gargeal finally knelt beside them, his voice calm and even.

"We all followed Zach for the same reason. Not for glory, not for vengeance, but because we believed in the fight—for something better. And you're right. It's not easy. It never was. It never will be. But you're not losing your senses—you're human. And we're here with you because we feel it, too. Every step, every scar, every burden."

The group sat together in a heavy silence, their emotions raw but shared.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Qarek let himself cry openly, surrounded by the people who understood his pain better than anyone else ever could.

Qarek wiped at his eyes with trembling hands, trying to steady his breath.

The others remained close, giving him space but not leaving his side.

He glanced down at the ground, his war axe resting where it had fallen. His voice broke the silence, low and hesitant.

"There's... there's something else," he began.

"Something I haven't told any of you."

The others exchanged glances but didn't interrupt, sensing the depth of what he was about to reveal.

Qarek hesitated, his hand instinctively moving to his forehead, brushing against the faint, intricate tattoo etched just above his brow.

"This tattoo. The tattoo that enhances our senses as the warrior of sins. Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste. All of it."

Andhur leaned forward, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, we know that, Qarek. It's part of what makes us such a badass in a fight."

Qarek shook his head slowly, his expression pained.

"You don't understand. It's not just a tool. It's something I've relied on... too much. Way too much."

Leeani's voice was soft but concerned.

"What do you mean? How could you rely on it too much when one of us fight, we all fight together?"

He let out a bitter laugh, looking down at his hands.

"I mean, I've been overusing it. Even during training, even when it wasn't necessary. I pushed it beyond its limits because I thought it made me stronger. More useful. That if I could push myself harder, I could carry more of the burden. That I could be enough."

Yzavynne tilted her head, her expression conflicted.

"Qarek, you what happens when you overuse it, right? Captain told us about that."

Qarek's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening.

"Yeah. At first, it's small things. Headaches, dizziness, a ringing in my ears. But as I kept using it—kept forcing it—I started noticing something else. My senses... they're fading. Bit by bit, they're going away."

The group fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone dropped into still water.

Andhur murmured.

"Your senses are dying..."

Qarek nodded slowly, the anguish clear in his face.

"Yeah. My vision's been blurring more often. My hearing's been cutting in and out. Food tastes like ash sometimes, and my sense of touch... it's like my hands aren't even mine anymore."

He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"It's like I'm losing pieces of myself, one sense at a time."

Leeani covered her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Qarek, why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want to seem weak," Qarek admitted, his voice breaking.

"I thought, I thought I could handle it. That I could fix it somehow. But I can't. And now, with everything going on, I feel like I'm falling apart faster than I can keep up."

Qarek looked at each of them in turn, his eyes shimmering with emotion.

"I've been so scared," he admitted quietly.

"Scared of what'll happen when my senses are gone. Scared that I'll be useless to all of you. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden," Leeani said firmly, her voice steady despite the tears on her cheeks.

"You've never been a burden, Qarek. You've always been someone we can rely on. And now it's our turn to be there for you."

Yzavynne nodded, her voice soft but resolute.

"We'll figure this out together. Whatever it takes, we'll find a way to help you."

Andhur grinned slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, and if you go blind or deaf or whatever, I'll just shout extra loud and lead you around. You'll be fine."

Despite himself, Qarek let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Thanks, Andhur. That's... comforting, I guess."

Gargeal said, his expression as unreadable as ever but his words carrying a rare warmth.

"You've already proven your strength. Admitting your struggles doesn't make you weak, remember that."

Qarek's tears finally spilled over, but this time, they were a mix of relief and catharsis.

"Thank you... all of you."

△▼△▼△▼△

The oppressive atmosphere of the dimension remained unchanging—silent, suffocating, and heavy with an unseen weight that pressed on their spirits.

Qarek, Andhur, Yzavynne, and Leeani sat together in a circle, their backs leaning slightly against each other for support.

Qarek rested his head in his hands, his exhaustion palpable. His breathing was steadier now, though his shoulders still trembled faintly.

Leeani had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as she stared into the empty distance.

Yzavynne rubbed her hands together, her lips pressed in a thin line, trying to warm herself despite the unnatural cold of this place.

Andhur, in his usual way, tried to appear casual, but even his lighthearted demeanor was gone, replaced by a quiet stillness that was foreign to him.

Gargeal stood a short distance away, his greatsword strapped securely onto his back. His figure loomed like a sentinel, unmoving, his eyes scanning the unnatural horizon for threats.

"Hmm."

Yet, as he stood there, his gaze drifted toward his students.

They were battered, weary, their once-defiant spirits visibly frayed by the toll of their journey and the horrors they had endured. He observed how they huddled together, seeking comfort in each other, like wounded animals finding safety in their pack.

Gargeal's expression did not change, but his thoughts were a storm beneath the surface.

He looked away from them, turning his attention to the ground beneath him. The black soil was unlike anything he had ever seen—grainy, lifeless, and unnervingly cold to the touch.

He muttered softly, his voice too low for anyone to hear.

"My students. They all keep being taken away from me, one by one."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists at his sides.

"It started with Nert," he said to himself.

"Always the quiet one. Always so curious, so eager to learn. He didn't deserve to go the way he did. Then Jiighual, stubborn, strong-willed Jiighual. Now retired. And Kazaks followed, always so sure of himself. So certain he could take on anything. He was wrong. I was wrong to let him believe it. Lost an arm and can't fight properly anymore."

Gargeal's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, the leather wrapping creaking under the pressure. He opened his eyes and glanced briefly at Qarek, sitting hunched over in the circle with the others.

He muttered, his voice barely audible.

"And now, it's Qarek."

He turned his back to his students, his head bowing slightly as he stared down at the black soil.

His stoic and neutral mask remained intact, but his shoulders sagged slightly, a subtle sign of the weight he carried. For a moment, the iron-clad wall of his emotions cracked, and his eyes became watery—a sight so unexpected it would have shocked anyone who knew him.

Gargeal's hand rose instinctively to his face, brushing away the tears before they could fall.

"I was supposed to protect them," he whispered, his voice trembling with the rarest hint of vulnerability.

"I was supposed to guide them. How did it even come to this?"

He breathes deeply and muttered.

"We need to keep going. Find the others and secure our escape, for now."

═════ ◆ TO BE CONTINUED ◆ ═════