The statues stood motionless, yet their presence felt suffocating, as if they were watching, waiting.

Killian shouted, his voice breaking the tense silence.

"Don't blink!"

But it was impossible. Their eyes burned, their instincts forcing them to close their lids for just a fraction of a second.

When they opened them again, there were eight statues.

Killian shouted, his voice tinged with panic.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

The statues were closer now.

Close enough that the fine details of their cracked stone surfaces were visible. Some of their limbs seemed malformed, jagged edges jutting out like broken bones.

And their faces—each was different.

Some were smooth and featureless, while others bore twisted expressions of agony, their mouths frozen mid-scream.

Seraphina's hands trembled as she fumbled for a vial in her satchel.

"They're... they're multiplying. Every time we—"

Blink.

Sixteen statues.

They were encircling the group now, forming a tight, predatory ring. The air was heavy with silence, save for the faint sound of grinding stone.

Killian spun in a slow circle, his eyes darting between the statues.

"This. this isn't real. It can't be real."

Micah said, her voice steady despite the fear etched on her face.

"It's real."

She tightened her grip on her dao sword.

"And they're not stopping."

Lyra's breath came in short gasps as she pressed her back against Micah's.

"What do we do? They're going to—"

The statues suddenly shifted.

Not with movement, but with a change in their presence. It was subtle, yet unmistakable. The hollow indentations where their eyes should have been seemed to deepen, as if some malevolent force had awakened within them.

Seraphina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"They're alive."

"Not for long," Killian growled, raising his dao sword.

"If they're going to attack, then we hit first!"

Before he could act, the statues blinked out of existence.

The clearing fell silent, the oppressive weight lifting for a brief moment.

Then, from the shadows, came the sound of cracking stone, followed by a low, guttural hiss.

"They're toying with us," Lyra said, her voice trembling.

"We're their prey."

Killian gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of movement.

"Stay close. No one blinks, no one moves alone. We're getting out of here, now."

The statues' laughter echoed faintly in the distance, a sound that chilled them to their very cores.

Seraphina handed over two small vials of iridescent liquid, their glow faint but mesmerizing against the oppressive red sky.

"Hey, you two," she said, her voice unusually subdued as she addressed Killian and Micah.

"Take these. Healing elixirs. You've both been through enough already."

Micah and Killian exchanged a brief glance before accepting the elixirs.

They removed the corks and downed the shimmering contents in one gulp. A cool sensation spread through their bodies, soothing the pain and sealing the minor wounds inflicted by Thorne.

Micah rolled his shoulders, testing his renewed strength.

"That's better. Thanks, Seraphina."

Killian added.

"Yeah, thanks."

His eyes lingered on Thorne, who lay motionless a few feet away, his chest rising and falling faintly.

Lyra, bowless but ever vigilant, had taken up a position slightly ahead of the group. Her sharp eyes roved over the unnatural landscape, every instinct on high alert.

"We should keep moving," she muttered.

"Before he wakes up. It'll be a lot worse if he does."

Micah nodded quickly.

"Yeah, good idea."

She turned to her brother.

"Killian?"

Killian hesitated, his hand hovering near the hilt of his dao sword.

"Those statues. They were moving. I don't know what they were, but—"

He shook his head, as if trying to clear the memory.

"Let's not stay to find out. Let's go."

Lyra suddenly stiffened, her gaze locked on something ahead.

"Uh, guys?"

Micah turned to her, concern flickering across her face.

"What is it?"

Seraphina, catching the tension in Lyra's voice, walked over to her side, her curiosity outweighing her caution.

"Don't tell me—"

She followed Lyra's gaze and let out a strangled gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Ahh—! No. No way!"

Micah and Killian hurried over, their eyes following Seraphina's trembling finger.

In the distance, the horizon was littered with bodies—thousands of them.

Drakonium soldiers, their armor gleaming faintly under the red sky, were strewn across the blackened soil. The ground was slick with blood, the dark liquid pooling around lifeless hands still clutching weapons. Their expressions, frozen in death, ranged from terror to rage, as if each soldier had met their end in a brutal struggle.

Crows circled overhead, their cries sharp and haunting, filling the air with a macabre symphony.

Some descended, perching on the corpses, tearing into the flesh with savage efficiency. The scene reeked of death—metallic, putrid, suffocating.

Micah stepped back instinctively, her breathing shallow.

"What the... what is this?"

Killian's hand tightened around the hilt of his dao sword as his eyes darted across the carnage.

"This... this is a massacre."

Lyra was the first to falter.

She froze mid-step, her hands trembling as she instinctively covered her mouth.

But the stench was too much.

Her eyes watered, and before she could stop it, bile rose in her throat. She stumbled to the side, collapsing onto one knee as she retched onto the blackened ground.

The sound of her vomiting filled the uneasy silence.

Seraphina, standing a few feet behind her, pressed her hand against her neck as if trying to force the nausea back down. Her face was pale, her usual fiery energy extinguished by the scene before her.

She took deep, shaky breaths, her other hand clutching her shamanic pouch as though its contents could offer some form of protection.

"Oh gods," she whispered.

"This... this is too much."

Micah stepped forward quickly, crouching beside Lyra and placing a firm, albeit trembling, hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

She kept her gaze forward, refusing to look at the carnage directly. Even for her, who'd seen her fair share of death as a hunter, the scale of it all was almost too much to bear.

"Just breathe, Lyra. In and out. Don't focus on the smell, okay?"

Killian stood a few steps away, his back stiff and his face contorted in discomfort.

He wasn't as composed as Micah; his own stomach churned violently at the sight of the torn and mangled bodies.

"I—I don't think I can."

He covered his nose with his forearm, trying to block out the stench.

"This place is worse than anything I've ever seen."

Lyra wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tears streaking down her face. She didn't respond, her body shivering as if the very air was freezing her.

"I can't. I can't do this."

Seraphina, still standing, clenched her fists. Her fear was written all over her face, but she tried to steady herself.

"This isn't real," she muttered as if convincing herself.

"It can't be real. This place—this dimension—it's wrong."

And then, without warning, Lyra let out a sharp gasp. Her trembling intensified, her hands clutching at her chest.

Her voice was high-pitched, panicked.

"What's... what's happening to me?"

Seraphina doubled over suddenly, her own body convulsing. Her hands shot to her neck and chest as a wet, choking sound escaped her lips.

She managed to cry out before blood began to seep from the corners of her mouth.

"Micah! Killian!"

Micah spun around, her eyes wide with terror as she saw bright red streams pouring from both Lyra and Seraphina. Blood flowed from their eyes, their noses, their ears, and even from places unseen. It streamed down their bodies, soaking into the ground beneath them.

Micah shouted, her voice cracking with panic.

"Ahhh! Brother, help!"

Killian rushed forward, nearly slipping on the wet ground, and grabbed Seraphina by the shoulders.

"What the fuck is this?!" he yelled, his voice a mix of horror and confusion.

"What's happening to them?!"

Lyra collapsed onto the ground, her trembling hands trying in vain to block the blood flowing from her face.

She sobbed, her voice weak and broken.

"Help... help... help us."

Seraphina clawed at her own body, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

She screamed.

"Micah... help!"

Micah fell to her knees, her own hands trembling uncontrollably. She reached out as if to comfort Lyra, but froze, unsure of what to do.

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at her bleeding friends.

"I don't know how to help you! I—I don't know what to do!"

The scene froze in its horrifying stillness until a voice, loud and commanding, broke through the cacophony of panic.

"Killian! Micah!"

They turned to see Gargeal and the others—Qarek, Yzavynne, Leeani, and Andhur—rushing toward them. Relief and fear warred in their expressions as they approached the grisly scene.

Yzavynne and Leeani were the first to act.

They crouched beside Lyra and Seraphina, gently gripping their shoulders and speaking in soothing tones.

"Breathe, Lyra. Just breathe," Yzavynne said, her voice calm but urgent.

"You're going to be okay. Focus on us."

Leeani pressed her hands lightly against Seraphina's arms, trying to steady her convulsions.

"Seraphina, listen to me. We're here now. You're safe. Just calm down. Breathe with me, okay?"

Andhur moved to Micah, who had collapsed on the ground, clutching her head.

"Micah," he said firmly but gently.

"Look at me. Look at me. We're all here now."

Qarek crouched beside them, nodding in agreement.

"Whatever's happening, we'll figure it out. Just stay with us."

As the chaos settled slightly, Gargeal stood back, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. His gaze landed on Killian, who was trembling but trying to maintain his composure.

"We're glad you're all still here," Gargeal said.

His voice was firm, though the sight of the field and the bleeding women clearly unsettled him. He gestured toward the sea of bodies.

"But did you do this?"

Killian shook his head.

"No. No, we didn't. We just stumbled on this after—after holding off against Thorne."

At the mention of the name, Gargeal's eyes widened, his usual composure cracking as his expression shifted to one of grim recognition.

"Thorne? That bastard's here?"

His voice carried an edge that wasn't there moments ago. His fists clenched tightly as if recalling something painful.

"Where is he?"

Killian gestured vaguely behind them.

"He's paralyzed—for now. We managed to take him down temporarily. But that's good, right? Wait."

He frowned, suddenly more curious.

"You know that man?"

Gargeal's eyes darkened further, his tone heavy with restrained anger.

"That's good. That bastard deserves it."

He paused, taking a deep breath as he forced himself to focus.

"I do know him. We all do. He's the same man we fought back at the mainland of Aeolantis. He gave us so much trouble along with his bandit men."

Killian's brow furrowed.

"Bandits? You mean he's a bandit? So that's why he doesn't have the same armor as them," he gestured to the lifeless drakonium soldiers scattered across the ground.

"Yes," Gargeal nodded.

"But not just any regular bandit. He is a monster. He's the one who destroyed Solaria—all by himself."

Killian's eyes widened in shock.

"Destroyed Solaria? That's why he's so brutal and experienced, huh? Makes sense now. No wonder he was so hard to take down."

Gargeal gave a grim nod, though his mind seemed to wander back to another time, another battlefield.

"Don't worry. We're here now. Have you all seen Zach anywhere?"

Killian began to shake his head.

"No. But we need to get away from here. The smell, the sight—"

He glanced back at Lyra and Seraphina, who were finally beginning to calm.

"It's too much."

Gargeal glanced at Andhur, who was supporting Micah.

"Right. Sorry about that. Let's move. The sooner we're away from this place, the better."

He gestured for the group to follow.

The group slowly moved away from the gruesome field, leaving behind the haunting image of thousands of fallen soldiers as the crows continued their macabre feast.

△▼△▼△▼△

The group sat in a circle beside a massive black tree, its twisted, gnarled branches arching above them like skeletal fingers against the crimson-red sky.

The tree seemed ancient, emanating a quiet but unsettling presence, its roots sprawling into the blackened soil beneath them. The air was still heavy with the lingering scent of blood and decay from the field of corpses they'd left behind. The occasional caw of a distant crow punctuated the oppressive silence as they tried to regain their composure.

Gargeal leaned forward, his tone calm yet heavy, as if trying to soften the weight of what he was about to explain. His deep voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

"Listen closely, all of you. What happened to Seraphina and Lyra wasn't random, nor was it some unique curse. This is something this dimension does. The Eye's dimension... it plays with your emotions, amplifies them. If your emotions spiral out of control—if you start screaming, panicking, or fearing for your life—your body reacts in ways that defy natural laws."

He glanced at Seraphina and Lyra, who were both still shaken, their hands trembling slightly.

He continued.

"Your emotions will heighten to the point of being uncontrollable, overwhelming every part of you. And then blood will start pouring out of your every hole. Your eyes, ears, nose, mouth. And yes."

He hesitated briefly.

"Even the other areas."

Micah's face contorted in a mix of confusion and horror.

"What?! That's insane. Why would this place do that?"

Killian leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Makes sense, though. The moment we saw and smelled the dead bodies, they started bleeding from everywhere. It's like this place preys on fear, terror."

Seraphina shivered at the memory, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"I could feel it," she whispered.

"The fear. It was like something was clawing at my mind, pulling me deeper into it. And the blood, it wouldn't stop."

Leeani, who was sitting beside Seraphina, offered a small, reassuring pat on her shoulder.

"It's all right now. It doesn't hurt, if that's any comfort," she said softly.

"But it is disturbing. Feeling your own blood pour out of you like that. It's not something you forget."

Yzavynne nodded in agreement.

"We've been through it before. It doesn't get easier, but you can survive it. The key is to stay calm. The more you lose control, the worse it gets. That's when it becomes unbearable."

Micah sat back, her eyes wide as she processed this.

"So that means I almost—"

She swallowed hard.

"That could've been me too?"

Leeani nodded.

"Yes. But you didn't. You were close, but you pulled yourself back. That's what matters."

Killian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"Terrifying. This place. It's like it's trying to break us."

Qarek, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke, his gaze shifting to Lyra.

"Hey, Lyra, where's your bow? I can see your quiver behind your back, but your bow's gone."

Lyra, who had been uncharacteristically silent, looked up at him, her face still pale. She hesitated, her hands tightening into fists in her lap.

"Thorne," she said simply, her voice trembling.

"He destroyed it."

Qarek's face darkened instantly.

"Thorne?! That bastard—"

Gargeal raised a hand, cutting Qarek off.

"I know," he said, his voice measured.

"Killian already told me. Thorne was here, and they managed to take him down temporarily. He's paralyze, for now."

Qarek's jaw clenched, and he exchanged a glance with Yzavynne and Leeani, both of whom looked equally tense.

"Master," Qarek said slowly,

"Thorne? Here?"

Gargeal nodded grimly.

"Yes. The same Thorne we fought on Aeolantis. The same man who gave us hell alongside his bandit crew."

Yzavynne scowled, her usually calm demeanor cracking as she muttered.

"That man... he's like a demon in human skin. I can't believe he's here."

"And let's not forget," Gargeal continued, his tone hardening.

"He's the same monster who destroyed Solaria. All by himself."

The group fell silent again, the oppressive atmosphere settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Gargeal broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative.

"Zach. I wonder where he is right now."

His words lingered in the air, drawing everyone's attention.

For a moment, it felt like the mere mention of their captain's name was enough to offer a sliver of hope, though it was fragile and fleeting.

Yzavynne, who had been sitting quietly with her arms crossed, lifted her head. Her gaze was steady as she addressed her master.

"Master, I'm pretty sure Captain is doing just fine. Even if he's by himself."

She paused, a faint smile flickering across her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"After all, he's not our captain without a reason."

Leeani chimed in, her tone firm yet tinged with a quiet worry.

"Yes. There's no doubt he's in a safer condition than us. He always manages to pull through. But that doesn't mean we won't find him. No matter how far or how deep this hell—"

She gestured vaguely to the surrounding landscape.

"—or whatever this is, has separated us."

Gargeal nodded slowly, though his expression remained troubled.

"I hope so."

Meanwhile, Andhur and Qarek had broken off into a quieter conversation of their own. Andhur sat with his elbows resting on his knees, one hand pressed to his forehead. His expression was a mixture of frustration and worry, his usually vibrant demeanor subdued.

Andhur murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

"Captain..."

Qarek glanced at him, his brow furrowing.

"I hope he's just safe out there."

Andhur's hand dropped, and he turned to Qarek, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You think he's alone?"

"I don't know," Qarek admitted, his tone soft.

"But I hope not. He's strong, yeah, but even Captain shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

Andhur nodded, though the tension in his jaw didn't ease.

"Yeah... I just—"

He stopped himself, shaking his head.

"Never mind."

Qarek didn't press him, the two of them falling into a contemplative silence as they stared into the distance.

"Kazaks... Jiighual..." he murmured softly to himself.

"I guess we won't be able to see you two for a long time. But I hope not."

On the other side of the group, Micah, Killian, Seraphina, and Lyra had started their own hushed conversation, though their topic was no less heavy. Micah's expression was one of quiet disbelief, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke.

"Tina. I never thought we'd see her again. That was so unexpected."

Killian leaned back against the tree, his hands running through his hair in frustration.

"It was," he agreed.

"Never expected it either."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as his thoughts began to spill out in a torrent of words.

"I'm so overwhelmed by everything that's happening. Selene. Evelori. Drakonium. Tina. Now this."

He gestured vaguely to the sky and the surrounding landscape, his voice rising slightly.

"The large figure and those stone statues at the shore earlier. Now this. Red sky, pale white pulsing moon, crimson-black trees and soil. Bleeding from holes, heightened emotions..."

He let his hands fall into his lap, his head dropping forward.

"And the worst part? I can't even focus on the good things anymore. Like Tina, her return. Our old friend's return. It's all so overwhelming, so fucking chaotic. I want to feel joy, relief, anything, but instead, I'm just drowning in fear and confusion. I don't even know what's real anymore, and it's tearing me apart."

He continued.

"Tina. I never thought we'd see her again. When I saw her, I thought I was hallucinating. I couldn't even process it. And everything else. The bodies, the blood, the statues—none of this makes sense. How are we supposed to hold it all together when it feels like the world itself is breaking apart?"

The others didn't comment, understanding the weight of his words.

Lyra sat nearby, her gaze fixed on the blackened soil beneath her. Her fingers curled into the dirt, as though seeking some kind of connection to the world she no longer recognized.

She didn't say anything, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. When she finally lifted her hand, the black soil clung to her skin like ash, and she stared at it for a long moment before letting it fall away.

Seraphina, on the other hand, had pulled her satchel onto her lap and was rummaging through it with a quiet urgency. Her hands moved quickly, checking the contents of the small vials and potions inside.

When she finally stopped, she let out a small sigh of relief.

"At least there's still more," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ten left. That's something."

Micah glanced at her, her brow furrowing.

"Ten what?"

Seraphina replied, holding up one of the small glass vials. The liquid inside glimmered faintly in the dim light.

"Potions. For emergencies. In case."

Micah nodded slowly, her gaze shifting back to the horizon.

"I hope we don't need them."

Seraphina murmured, clutching the satchel a little tighter against her chest.

"Me too."

Gargeal announced to the group.

"Get some rest for now. Then we'll continue walking again, until we eventually find Zach and Tina."

The group fell silent again, the weight of their thoughts pressing down on them like a physical force.

Each of them carried their own worries, their own fears.

═════ ◆ TO BE CONTINUED ◆ ═════