Reno woke up with the usual sense of nausea.
The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air, mixing with the sweat and blood that perpetually stained the ground of the square. He had stopped asking himself what had happened before or after: every week, the same exact cycle repeated itself, trapping him in an endless nightmare along with hideous monsters.
He ran a hand through his hair, damp with sweat.
Still here.
Although he struggled to keep track of time, he had preferred not to stop. Perhaps months had passed. The temporal rift held him prisoner in a static reality, a distorted fragment of the outside world, where neither the past nor the future existed. There was only the present, chasing itself in a cursed dance.
He hated the orcs.
He despised the way they looked at him with those war-hungry eyes, the way they cheered after every performance, as if he were one of them.
But more than anything, he felt disdain for the person who appeared when he looked in the mirror.
He had chosen to go there. Decided to serve a leader he had admired above all else.
Why? Why did I do it?
He could no longer remember clearly. Admiration? Trust? Blind obedience?
Now, all he knew was that he wanted to escape, but first, he had to overcome a major obstacle to do so.
In the heart of the temporal rift, the orcs followed only one lord: Morkhaz the Pale.
He was different from the others. His skin, a ghostly white, made him seem like a phantom among the savages. His face, scarred, betrayed no emotion except during combat, when a barbaric ferocity took over.
No one had ever seen him lose.
He's a beast, Reno had thought from the first day. But there was something more, something methodical, controlled. Morkhaz fought like a brute only once the battle had already started. He didn't charge blindly into the fray.
He observed. He learned. He adapted his fighting style to each new enemy before facing them.
His twin axes moved with unnatural speed, as if they anticipated his opponents' moves. Reno had seen orcs much bigger than him tremble just from hearing him approach.
Yet, despite everything, Morkhaz considered him valuable.
Also because I doubt he listens to my leader's requests.
He remembered his words: "Your voice has the power to bend the fate of the battle. The orcs need your hymn," he had told him once. "And if this is written to win a war, then your song will be a weapon they will need greatly."
Reno had laughed. But now, after all this time, he was no longer sure it had been just a catchy phrase.
Does Morkhaz think the same?
The Blendbreed didn't know whether to believe it, especially because he didn't understand their language. What he did know was that every day, he was summoned to the great arena. The orcs gathered, their weapons raised to the sky, their faces marked by bloodlust. He climbed onto a dark stone platform and sang.
His voice was pure magic. Son of Aor, the goddess of music, he possessed the gift of enchanting those who listened, infusing mana into his voice, shaping emotions in others' hearts. An incredible power, but not enough to subjugate them and escape, unfortunately.
His battle song made them stronger. Faster. More ferocious. More monstrous than they already were.
And he hated it.
When did I stop fighting? Once, Blendbreeds protected each other, now my mission is to kill anyone who dares block my way.
The rift was about to reopen. Reno knew it. In the last few days, the large azure portal, which had brought him here, had reappeared.
At Morkhaz's signal, the orcs would charge, and he would gain his opportunity.
He no longer wanted to be their ambassador, their war bard. He had stopped playing the little soldier for his boss, and he wouldn't be Morkhaz's pawn for one more day.
When I'm out, I'll seek asylum at Lilies Park.
There, he would tell everything. He would reveal the Severe's plan, the truth about the rift, every secret he had kept until that moment.
I'll never sing for them again.
But something tormented him.
He had spent too much time with Morkhaz. He had seen his determination, the way he ruled his clan with discipline, his obsession with war, but also his logic. There was a strategy behind his actions, and that scared him.
He had to pretend to still be loyal. He had to deceive the pale orc, make everyone believe that his loyalty was unchanged.
He felt fear creeping into his bones.
The ground of the rift trembled. The glowing crack opened in mid-air, pulsating, like the beat of a giant heart.
It was time.
The orcs sprang forward, hungry and furious. Reno moved toward the portal's entrance. He felt his breath quicken, his hands sweaty.
Can I really escape all this?
Morkhaz's voice froze his blood.
He turned slowly. The orc stared at him with his steel-colored eyes, unreadable.
Reno swallowed as he approached, his axes dangling from his hands. For a moment, he thought he would be killed.
But then the orc roared, his voice thundering, hitting him harder than any threat. The Blendbreed's heart skipped a beat. Morkhaz raised an arm, and the orcs moved like a tidal wave, pushing toward the glowing crack. Reno stood still for a moment. The thunder of footsteps, the roars of the beasts, the metallic clashing of weapons—everything seemed to merge into a single cacophony of war.
One by one, the orcs and other monsters passed him by, oblivious to him, thirsting only for the slaughter that awaited them on the other side of the rift. Reno took a deep breath and moved, step by step, as if the slightest hesitation could betray him.
He crossed the portal.
A wave of cold wrapped around him, and the light blinded him for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the Mortal World before him. The screams tore through the air, the orcs prepared for battle, and he was there, amidst it all.
He clenched his sweaty hands. Will everything be alright?
The uncertainty choked him. He no longer knew which side to take. Then he saw the horror unfold before his eyes. One Blendbreed was wiping out every creature.
He noticed his violet eyes, filled with a terrifying calm, and realized that, regardless of his choice, chaos would consume him anyway.