The pull of space was so violent it shredded my awareness, tearing my senses apart until I slipped into a twilight of near-unconsciousness.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water?
My eyes fluttered open to the sound of muffled arguing and the flicker of indistinct shapes. Rough stone bricks enclosed a cold, damp chamber, the air heavy with mildew. Low-burning torches sputtered along the walls, spitting embers, their glow casting dancing shadows that writhed across the floor. The world tilted sickeningly as I tried to focus.
Four hunched figures loomed in deep crimson robes, their features swallowed by the darkness of their hoods.
The moment I stirred, an immense pressure slammed down on me. An invisible weight tearing away my strength and locking my Internal Force in place. Even my refined body felt inert, my limbs hollow, as though every drop of power infused within had frozen solid.
I tried to drag in a breath. The air scorched my throat like inhaled ash. It was heavy, alien, and painful.
Is it toxic?
“Quiet,” one captor hissed, its voice a grated rasp. “He’s awake.”
Another, voice hollow and spectral as if spoken from a grave, muttered, “You’re sure he’s the one?”
My eyes shifted sideways and caught Bristle. He was awake too, chest rising in ragged gasps, eyes fixed on me in mute alarm. This environment. wherever it was. was killing us.
“I’m certain. The elf shared his energy signature with us,” a third croaked.
Elf? Drema.
Rage ignited in my skull like a flashfire. He had threatened me. Promised others would hear of my treasure. But for this—to act on it, was insane. It couldn’t have been permitted, could it? My skin prickled, hair lifting on end as I fought to steady my mind against the searing mix of pain and fury.
A hand seized my shoulder, wrenching me around so I faced the creatures directly. Still, the darkness of their cloaks devoured their features.
A jagged, bony finger extended toward me, scraping my skin as it pressed against my neck. The stench was suffocating. Dry and corpse-like, the smell of crypt dust and rotting. I flinched as the tip bit deeper, a warm thread of blood sliding down my collarbone, dripping onto the stone with tiny taps.
The others whispered around me like vultures over carrion. “I can smell the remnants of it. Even if he denies it…”
“Where is the life treasure?!” one growled, its voice doubling with a low groan.
Only one object entered my mind. The one thing I had used in the presence of foreigners.
The Heart’s Emblem.
Forget it. I don’t have time. My body’s weakening by the second.
Ughghh. Wyrem groaned within me, his voice strained. What was that? Are you alright, Peter?
I ignored him, urgency flaring in my chest. LUNA!
Her leaves trembled faintly, but no answer. The bone finger lifted, slashing a long cut into my cheek. Pain bloomed hot, another question following like a blade: “Did you create it!”
Luna! Wake up!
Her vines curled sluggishly around me before she finally stirred. Geez. What’s up? Wait… where are we?
She sounded… fine? Confused, but unharmed. Can you circulate my—
Two fingers jabbed into my side, shallow but sharp. “Answer! Where did you find it!”
“Maybe he can’t speak?” one muttered, almost with a hint of sympathy.
Circulating! Got it, Luna’s voice rang from within.
Drybel must have heard my call too, because as soon as the Internal Force began moving again, the villi inside me shifted, reshaping into tiny paddles that churned the flow faster through my Harmonic Channel.
It was enough.
My Precursor Sense sprang to life, a spike of clarity and control. Instantly I triggered Sensory Veil, spreading it in a blink to envelop myself, the monsters, and Bristle, shaping my intent to filter only what I needed to survive—praying it would strip out whatever poison or force was crushing us.
Instantly, the burning in my lungs lifted, and I could breathe easy again. Yet the thought stabbed through me. I would have been dead in my old body. Before coming to this world. Without cultivation. Without the safeguards of Water Force purification already driving my recovery.
The creature before me recoiled, claws pulling free, fresh blood spilling hot from my side. It staggered back, stunned, turning to his companions. “Do you feel that?”
“Energy? That’s impossi—AGHH!!”
The interrogator’s ally shrieked as Bristle lunged without warning, his claws shrieking across stone as he launched forward. His jaws snapped shut with a crunch, then, twisting with brutal force, he hurled the robed figure sideways. The impact rocked the wall, dust raining from the worn bricks.
My body still trembled with weakness, the oppressive pressure still present, but if Bristle could fight, then so could I. For the first time in a while, I channeled Force directly into my muscles, crudely amplifying them as though I were a beginner again, just discovering cultivation.
“Grab it!” the torturer roared, swinging a hooked bone appendage that slashed the air just short of my throat. “You can’t—Mmph!”
His words cut off as I surged upward. My right arm thrust through the gap in his cloak, driving him back a step. Then I hauled him off the ground.
Luna?
She understood instantly. Vines unfurled from my arm, thorns jutting out like a nest of needles, and plunged deep into the creature’s jaw. His body convulsed once, but his claws still raked down my arm, leaving thin, burning lines. The texture beneath my palm was alien. Hard ridges of bone laced with slick, fibrous flesh. I squeezed tighter.
A hollow gurgle scraped from within the hood, his attempt at a scream. I braced my other hand on his shoulder and gave one final crushing force.
CRACK!
The sound was brittle, like shattering dry clay pots. The blue fire flickering behind his face guttered violently, then winked out. His body sagged, dead weight collapsing against me.
SNAP!
Beside me, Bristle finished his kill. His muscles swelled with feral strength as he shredded his enemy’s leg, then vaulted upward. His jaws clamped around the figure’s throat and shook, once, twice—before the hood slipped free.
A skull leered back at me. Not bare and clean, but mottled with strips of half-rotted flesh clinging in green-stained tatters, tendons stretched taut over bone that hadn’t fully decayed. One socket glowed faintly with a dying blue flame, sputtering weakly before extinguishing into nothing.
The body crumpled, limp. Dead.
Two remained, shrinking back into the shadows, trembling as the fetid reek of decay thickened in the chamber. My head turned slowly toward them, and they froze.
I rose to my feet, blood dripping from my arm, and glanced at Bristle. “Make sure one doesn’t escape.”
Then I lunged. My hand clamped around the closest one’s arm.
“Pl—please… I’m sorry,” it stammered in a guttural, broken voice, begging.
Sorry? For this? For dragging me here, for tearing everything from me?
“It isn’t fair,” I muttered, low, bitter. All of this—for what?
My voice sharpened, echoing through the chamber. “Was I supposed to be helpless beneath spells and techniques?” I yanked him closer, my words cold as steel.
He didn’t answer. Heat rose inside me, scorching through the grief.
“I had just returned!” I roared. “It was only a day!”
Bone splintered in my grip as I wrenched his arm back. The sickening crack tore a guttural cry from his throat as the limb ripped free. He thrashed wildly, but I slammed him into the floor, pinning him beneath me while seizing his other arm.
Bristle’s growl rumbled beside me, low and deadly, halting the second figure from inching toward the doorway, the torchlight gleaming off his teeth.
“All this because of some treasure!” My voice was raw, ragged. Another scream split the chamber as another rotten limb tore loose in my hands.
“DO YOU STILL WANT IT?!”
My hand drove into its chest next, ribs shattering like brittle twigs. The sound was thick, wet, each crack followed by a nauseating squelch as my fingers plunged into the pulpy rot within.
Faces flickered in my mind—Thea’s bright smile, Vel’s boundless enthusiasm, and Elric’s smug, knowing smirk.
All of it torn away again.
Fury boiled over, then twisted into grief. My body trembled as I clenched tighter, feeling organs collapse in my grip, soft as drenched paper crushed between my fingers.
“DO YOU?!” I bellowed, ripping my hand free, gore dripping, and heaving both fists high above my head.
CRACK!
Boom! Boom!
Over and over, I brought them down. Skull splintering, stone echoing. Again. Again. Until nothing remained but dust, pulp, and silence.
At last I staggered back, chest heaving. My shoulders sagged, the weight of my rage dimming dragging them low. Everything I’d unleashed drained from me, leaving only emptiness.
Slowly, I lifted my eyes.
The final robed figure hadn’t moved. It cowered in the doorway, its body quaking uncontrollably, pale blue fire guttering weakly within its hood.
My voice cracked as I spoke, low and desperate.
“How do I get home?”