"Ah… so it begins."
He stepped further into the hall.
"Zain! Over here!" Ben's voice called from the other side of the table.
Zain glanced toward them.Ben, Aran, Alicia seated together.
Then his eyes shifted.
Joey was sitting alone.
Interesting.
Without responding to Ben, Zain changed direction. He walked calmly toward Joey, placed his palm lightly against the table's edge, and pulled out the chair across from him.
He sat down.
Directly facing him.
Joey blinked in surprise. "Why did you sit here?"
Zain tilted his head slightly. "Is there a name written on it?" he replied smoothly. "I sit wherever I like… Mr…?"
Joey studied him for a brief second, clearly unimpressed.
"My name won't matter to you," he said coolly. "But since you asked ..Joey Ashbourne ."
H
e turned his gaze away immediately.
Zain's smile sharpened.
"Well then, Mr. Ashbourne…
Zain Draevar."
Joey gave a short nod without looking at him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Draevar."
The dismissal was obvious.
For a fraction of a second, Zain's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
Ignored.
Who ignores someone from the Draevar family?
This was new.
He reached for the glass of water in front of him and took a slow sip, masking the flicker of irritation in his eyes.
Across from him, Joey suddenly felt a dryness in his throat.
Strange.
He hadn't been thirsty a moment ago.
There was a glass of juice placed neatly before him.
He didn't remember it being there.
Still, he picked it up.
And drank.
The sweetness lingered longer than it should have.
Then—
Darkness.
The lights cut out instantly.
No flicker.
No warning.
Just black.
The noise in the hall vanished with it.
Not faded.
Vanished.
Joey froze.
The silence was wrong.
Too complete.
"Mr. Draevar?" he called cautiously.
No answer.
The air felt… different.l
Thicker.
He turned his head, trying to make out shapes, but there was nothing. Not shadows. Not outlines.
Just endless black.
"Mr. Draevar?!" he shoutted loud
Still nothing.
His breathing quickened.
He reached forward instinctively to place the juice glass back onto the table.
But his hand found nothing.
No table.
No surface.
The glass slipped from his fingers.
It fell.
Yet instead of shattering. It landed with a dull, muted thud.
Soft.
As though it had struck something smooth… and yielding.
Joey's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
There was no sound of broken glass.
No scattering pieces.
Only the faintest shift beneath him.
Like something moving.
Slowly.
In the dark
Joey shouted.
No one answered.
A full minute passed.
Then...The lights returned.
Blinding.
Joey squeezed his eyes shut, raising his arm to shield his face. The brightness stabbed through his vision. Slowly, very slowly, he lowered his hand.
When his sight finally adjusted…
He froze.
He was no longer in the dining hall.
He was standing in a garden.
Green grass beneath his feet. The scent of soil. The faint hum of summer wind brushing through shrubs.
His breath caught.
At his feet lay the juice cup.
Unbroken.
It hadn't shattered because it had fallen onto grass.
"This… this is our garden…"
His voice trembled.
"Our house… Why am I here?"
The house stood before him exactly as he remembered it white walls, wooden balcony, the familiar curve of the rooftop.
Or… almost as he remembered.
Something felt off.
He moved toward the front door.
Before his hand touched the knob—
It opened.
On its own.
Joey stiffened.
He stepped inside slowly.
"Mom? Naya?"
The door shut behind him without a sound.
Then—
Music.
A violin.
Soft. Melancholic. Coming from upstairs.
Joey swallowed and began climbing.
Halfway up, he stopped.
The furniture.
Old-fashioned.
Dark wood.
Heavy curtains.
"This wasn't here…"
His heartbeat quickened.
And the piano there was no piano in their house.
The violin grew clearer.
It was coming from his room.
Joey pushed the door open.
An old man stood by the window, playing.
He turned.
"Maya… you've come, sweetheart."
He opened his arms.
Before Joey could react, a woman passed through him.
Through him..
As if he was air.
Cold rushed through his body.
He stumbled back.
His young mother walked forward, holding a baby in her arms.
"Oh, Father… I missed you."
Father.
Joey's breath faltered.
He had never met his grandfather.
"Father," Maya's voice trembled, "we have to do something. His condition is getting worse."
"Are they still coming for him?" the old man asked quietly.
For him?
"Who? Who's coming?" Joey demanded.
No one heard him.
Another woman entered.
Gamela.
She, too, passed through him like smoke.
Joey staggered back, barely keeping his balance.
"My dear," Gamela said urgently, kneeling before Maya. "What your husband did angered them. You should never have hurt them. Now you must take the child to the mountain. That is their condition… otherwise, they will kill all of your bloodline."
The room grew colder.
The violin stopped.
Suddenly—
The window shattered inward.
A violent, dark wind burst into the room.
Glass and dust spiraled in the air.
Joey threw his arm over his face.
Yet—
No one else reacted.
They didn't move.
They didn't feel it.
The wind was for him.
Only him.
The force knocked the air from his lungs.
And when he lowered his arm—
The house was gone.
The scene before his eyes shifted.
He stood at the edge of a mountain cliff.
The village far below swallowed in shadow.
Joey staggered back in shock, nearly losing his footing.
His heel crumbled loose stone.
Pebbles fell into the abyss.
He crawled forward cautiously and looked down.
Darkness.
No bottom.
Just endless void.
Then—
A baby's cry pierced the air.
Joey turned.
On the opposite side of the cliff stood his mother.
Holding the child.
Behind her stood the old man and Gamela.
"My dear," Maya whispered through tears, "we will meet again very soon. Don't be afraid. You'll be fine. Trust me."
Tears fell onto the baby's face.
Joey's chest tightened painfully.
"Mom… what are you doing?" His voice broke. "Don't…"
His heart pounded violently against his ribs.
No.
No, this isn't real.
"This isn't you," he whispered, shaking his head. "You would never do this. Not you. Not my mom! "
His gaze searched her face desperately.
For a crack.
For hesitation.
For love.
For a second، just a second، her eyes flickered.
Not with sorrow.
With something empty.
Like a reflection wearing her skin.
Joey's stomach dropped.
"This is the Test!" he choked out. "You're twisting her! Stop this! Can anyone hear me?!"
His voice echoed uselessly into the dark.
"Stop the Test! This isn't a game! You can't ...This isn't fair!"
He lunged forward, reaching for her and the baby.
His legs trembled. His arms stretched as far as they could, fingers grasping at air.
But something invisible held him back. A force he couldn't see… couldn't fight.
He looked back at her, panic unraveling him.
"Mom… please. Look at me."
"Tell me you hear me."
"Tell me this isn't real."
She kissed the baby's forehead.
Her lips lingered a moment too long.
And in that frozen second—
Joey saw it.
Not his mother.
Just something pretending.
He screamed, his voice breaking into shards of panic.
"Mom—!"
"Mom—!"
She let go.
The child fell.
.
Joey screamed.
"No—!"
The darkness surged.
It moved.
It twisted.
And then it swallowed the child.
Whole.
As if a living shadow, a beast made of black, had opened its maw and devoured him.
Joey's chest felt like it would collapse. His lungs burned. His hands clawed at the empty air.
Every nerve in his body screamed in protest.
He could only watch… and scream.
Suddenly.
Something seized his ankle.
Cold.
Burning.
He looked down.
A blackened hand—charred, cracked like burned wood—gripped his leg.
Its strength was inhuman.
It pulled him towards the edge.
Joey dropped to the ground, grabbing onto the rocky edge with both hands.
His nails tore against stone.
"Let go!" he shouted.
The grip tightened.
Pain shot up his leg like fire.
He kicked wildly, striking the arm.
The flesh felt wrong.
Not solid.
Not entirely real.
More like ash compressed into shape.
The creature below began to rise.
Its body was shapeless shadow wrapped around bone.
Two white, empty eyes opened in the darkness beneath him.
They locked onto his.
The thing pulled harder.
Joey's fingers slipped.
Stone crumbled beneath his grip.
The abyss yawned below.
And the creature smiled.
A slow, terrifying smile, as if it knew every secret he had, every fear.
Joey's chest heaved.
His heart pounded like a drum.
He was at the edge.
The edge of everything he knew. As if the world he knew had ended.
The abyss yawned below.
And the creature smiled.