Chapter 57 - The Edge of the Abyss

"Tsk, tsk, what a poor excuse for a death, if it could even be called that," a voice echoed, dripping with condescension. It slithered through the still air like a serpent, sending a chill down your spine. Your purple eyes snapped open, glowing faintly in the dim light, as your surroundings came into focus.

You were no longer in Japan. No longer in your world.

Instead, you found yourself in a vast, desolate expanse. The air was thick with the acrid scent of ash and decay, a stark reminder of destruction that had long since taken place. Towering blackened trees stretched skyward like skeletal hands clawing at an empty, starless sky, their twisted forms lifeless and brittle.

The ground beneath you was a carpet of ashen remains, punctuated by charred stumps and broken branches, remnants of a once-thriving forest now reduced to desolation. The eerie silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint crackle of embers clinging stubbornly to life amidst the devastation.

You took a hesitant step forward, your claws scraping against the brittle ground, and the faint sound seemed deafening in the stillness. A sense of disorientation gripped you, each breath heavy with the unfamiliarity of this grim, otherworldly plane.

You were alone—completely, utterly alone—and the weight of that realization pressed heavily on your chest as you stared into the endless void of ruined wilderness around you. Where were you? What had happened? These questions swirled in your mind, but the mocking voice lingered, a shadowy presence that sent shivers through your scales.

Suddenly, a group of wolves emerged from the dead forest, their presence as foreboding as the charred wasteland surrounding you. They moved with an unnatural grace, their fur dark as the void, blending seamlessly with the shadows. But it was the figure at their center that captured your attention—a massive wolf with two scythes strapped to its back, their sharp edges glinting faintly despite the dim light.

The wolf's eyes were a fiery crimson, glowing with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through you. His gaze locked onto yours, unyielding and assessing. His presence exuded authority, commanding the pack behind him without a single word.

"You are a foolish queen, L/N," the wolf spoke, his voice deep and resonant, carrying a weight that made it impossible to dismiss. The words cut sharper than any blade, and yet there was a strange, begrudging respect in his tone.

Your instincts flared at the insult, but before you could respond, the wolf shrugged nonchalantly, his scythes shifting slightly on his back. "But your soul," he continued, "your soul is strong."

His pack remained silent, their crimson eyes glowing as they encircled you, their movements deliberate and almost ceremonial. It was clear that this wolf, whoever—or whatever—he was, held immense power in this strange, forsaken realm. And now, all that power was focused on you.

"Who are you?" you asked, your voice calm despite the intense situation. You could feel an uncomfortable knot in your stomach, but you refused to show fear.

The wolf furrowed his brow, as if your question was almost amusing. "You don't recognize me?" he chuckled darkly, a deep and unsettling laugh that sent shivers through the air. "Surprising. Everyone recognizes me when they see me, sooner or later..."

He paused, as if contemplating something. Then, with a tone almost philosophical, he added, "I am one with life. I am more than just a creature. I am a force, a shadow that has always been present, but you only see me when fate calls."

His words were like a thick fog, slowly filling the air around you, and a sense of unease crept up your spine. There was something indescribable about him—something timeless and infinite, as though he had been here forever and would remain in the same darkness until the end of time.

"You are a mystery," you replied, your voice slightly tense. "What do you want from me?"

He laughed, a deep, menacing sound that echoed through the dead forest. "I don't want to hurt you, Y/N," he said, his voice eerily calm. "I just want your soul. You are dead, Y/N," he added, the words hanging in the air like a dark omen.

With that, the wolf slowly drew a scythe from behind his back, the blade gleaming in the dim light. It was sharp, gleaming with a cold light, and the very sight of it made the atmosphere feel even more suffocating. His red eyes locked onto yours as he took a step closer, the scythe's blade raised ominously.

"Your time is over," he said again, his voice almost a whisper, but carrying the weight of an irreversible truth.

You could feel the gravity of his words, the finality in them. The forest around you seemed to close in, and the oppressive weight of your own mortality pressed down on you. Yet, in that moment, you refused to give in.

"No," you said, your voice shaking but firm. The wolf stopped in his tracks, the scythe hovering in the air for a moment, as if the words had given him pause.

"What?" he growled, clearly surprised by your defiance.

You lifted your chin, eyes blazing with determination, despite the fear that coursed through your veins. "I don't want to die. I have so much more to do, so much more to give," you said, your voice stronger now, fueled by the desire to fight for the life you still clung to.

The wolf stared at you, his red eyes narrowing in contemplation. The silence stretched between you two, heavy and thick with the weight of your words. He seemed to hesitate, a flicker of something like uncertainty crossing his face, before he let out a dark chuckle.

"You're stubborn," he muttered, twirling the scythe in his hand. "But perhaps... perhaps there's more to you than just a soul to harvest."

The tension in the air was palpable, but instead of swinging the scythe, he lowered it, watching you with an almost curious expression. "Very well, Y/N. It seems I misjudged you," he said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Your story isn't over yet, but remember this: everyone has their time."

You nodded resolutely, not willing to show weakness, but still wondering what this would mean for your future.

 "Next time we meet, Y/N," he said with a slight smirk, "I won't be so kind." You nodded slowly, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air, but still, a small spark of defiance burned inside you.

"I understand," you murmured, your voice steady despite the growing sense of inevitability.

The wolf smiled, a cold, knowing expression. "I am Muerte... Death," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper in the thick, eerie silence.

With a swift motion, he raised his paw, and as it made contact with the ground, you felt the temperature drop dramatically. A wave of freezing cold surged through you, and your skin prickled as the darkness seemed to close in from every side. You could feel it, the pull of the abyss drawing you in. The sensation of weightlessness and a sense of detachment overtook you.

"Thank you, Y/N," the wolf whispered, his voice distant but sincere, "For showing me that not all souls are ready to be collected, not just yet."

Then, as his presence receded and the world around you dissolved into pure darkness, you fell. The ground beneath you was gone, and all you could do was plummet into the unknown, surrounded by an all-consuming void.