Tristan and the rune dog had just leapt into the white mist, in a desperate attempt to escape the Marked. As soon as they passed through the wall of fog, a new world revealed itself before them—or perhaps, the absence of any world at all.
The sight was disorienting.
Everything around them looked the same. An infinite white sea of mist covered the ground and filled the sky, erasing any sense of horizon or direction. Tristan couldn't tell what was ground and what was air, as if he were trapped inside a borderless monochromatic painting.
The dog, which had been carrying him by the mouth until then, dropped him to the ground with no care whatsoever. Tristan felt his body bounce slightly against the soft surface, as if the floor were made of some elastic or inflated fabric. With no time to complain, he immediately turned, eyes searching for the point of entry.
Behind him, glowing intensely amid the absolute whiteness, was a half-circle of golden flames.
Hungry.
Tristan instinctively stepped back, body still in high alert. He wondered if the Marked would follow them even in there. It was impossible to know. But before he could think further, his foot sank—and in an instant, he fell.
The fall was short, but intense. Tristan plummeted for about twenty meters, his arms trying to grab at nothing, until he finally hit a new "ground," as soft and strange as the first. He let out a low groan as he landed, but it didn't feel like a serious injury. Sitting up, he looked around, stunned.
The dog had vanished.
Tristan's heart sped up.
That white fog seemed to absorb even sound.
Concealment magic?
What kind of place was this?
Then, he heard it.
A rhythmic thumping, like the sound of a distant drum, echoed through the mist. His sharpened senses kicked in, and he immediately tensed. Was some kind of creature approaching? He remained still, forcing his breathing to stay silent. But the sound didn't seem to get closer. It was just… there.
Seconds passed. Nothing happened.
Carefully, Tristan reached out in front of him and touched the mist. To his surprise, it was firm like the ground, as if it were a solid wall of cloud. The surrounding mist, however, remained ethereal, almost unreal. He couldn't tell the difference just by looking. Frowning, he tried to feel something with his mystical senses—some spiritual energy pulse, any hidden clue—but there was nothing.
That's when he realized.
That world was empty.
There wasn't a single trace of magical energy there. It was a sterile zone, completely cut off from the world's essence. Tristan understood, with a chill down his spine, that he wouldn't be able to cultivate in there, nor recover his spiritual energy. The place was like a vacuum for anything involving magic.
With a quiet sigh, he stood up and dug his fingers into the firm wall of mist in front of him. He began to climb, struggling upward. As he ascended, the drumming returned—now accompanied by a second beat, both in sync but coming from different directions. Whatever it was, it remained too far to identify.
When he reached a certain height, Tristan's eyes caught sight of the golden flames again. They were about three meters away—and only then did they become visible. A disturbing detail.
He looked around. No sign of the dog.
He crouched down, carefully touching the floor, groping like a blind man. He avoided falling again, crawling slowly away from the circle of fire. Once he was more than three meters away, the flames vanished completely, swallowed by the dense fog.
'Rune dog…'
Tristan thought. Maybe the animal was far beyond reach. Maybe it had fallen, like he did, into some place hidden by the fog.
Cautiously, he called out in a low voice:
"Hey… rune dog, are you nearby?"
He didn't dare shout. It would be too risky to alert anything that might be lurking. He kept calling in a low voice, several times, but silence was his only answer.
He felt stuck. Directionless. He couldn't stray too far from the golden arc and lose the only point of reference he had.
He returned to the flaming edge. Kneeling before the mist where they had crossed through, he found something hypnotizing and terrifying about that light. Carefully, he raised his finger and pushed it toward the white wall.
His finger disappeared.
Startled, Tristan pulled his hand back. He examined it carefully. All his fingers were intact.
'Is this some kind of portal?' Tristan thought, relieved to see his finger hadn't been torn off. The strange wall of mist that separated that silent world from the outside reacted like a magical membrane.
Doubt quickly turned to curiosity.
Driven by a bold impulse, Tristan leaned forward and pushed his head into the mist, trying to see what lay on the other side. What he saw made his stomach churn.
Outside, dozens of runic beasts stood still, motionless like statues.
It was only when the eyes of some of them met his that something changed.
They charged forward in unison — but Tristan had already pulled back before even seeing the large, sharp teeth of a snow cat approaching. His heart pounded, but he was safe, at least for now.
Back in the white silence of the mist, Tristan began to circle the ring of golden flames, carefully observing how the flames didn't burn the mist, but seemed to devour it, tearing through the structure of the world. It was as if they had created a dimensional rift between two distinct realities — the dangerous outside world and this unfathomable realm of whiteness.
At that moment, something changed.
A new sound emerged — a third beat. It was different from the previous two, out of sync. Irregular. A strange thumping with a rhythm of its own. Tristan furrowed his brow and tried to focus on that dissonant sound.
And then the world reacted.
The mist around him began to ripple, like a lake struck by a stone. Waves spread in all directions, and the unchanging whiteness quivered, shifted, transformed.
At first, Tristan thought the mist itself was moving, but he soon realized the truth: it wasn't the world that was changing — it was his perception.
Shapes began to materialize before his eyes. The white took on the outlines of intertwined cables, corridors of smoke, walls, and tunnels. It was as if the fabric of the world was slowly being revealed in the midst of chaos.
For the first time, Tristan could see something.
He looked around, taking in every detail of that bizarre environment. And then he saw it.
Just twenty meters away, a colossal figure moved in circles. It was the runic dog.
The creature looked confused and restless. Tristan hesitated. He didn't know what to expect. That creature was one of the Marked, after all. But… it had also saved his life.
'There's something different about him. He's definitely not like the others,' Tristan reflected.
With slow, cautious steps, he began to approach.
That's when he saw the dog attack. The creature hurled itself at the mist, striking with fury. Sometimes it hit only air; other times it collided with the walls. But nothing changed. No scratch, no crack.
Seeing this, Tristan stopped. He reached out and summoned a spark of Darkness, rubbing it against the solid part of the mist.
Nothing happened.
'Is this thing immune to magic? Or is my magic too weak? What the hell were those golden flames, to be able to damage this place?'
Tristan's mind was buzzing.
He drew closer to the Marked dog. He didn't know whether to call it an enemy or an ally. But he decided to try communicating.
"Are you lost too?" he asked, voice low but firm.
The reaction was almost immediate. The dog turned toward him, its head tilting side to side. But it seemed blind.
Tristan stepped back, wanting to confirm something.
"Uh… I'm the only one who can see here." At least, for now.
He sighed.
It was like diving into a bottomless sea of questions. Each answer led him to a new abyss of doubt.
Tristan took another step. The dog stepped back, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"Can you understand what I'm saying?" he asked carefully.
The creature nodded. Its massive head moved up and down in a slow gesture.
Tristan raised his eyebrows.
Interesting.
'Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be the kind of magical dog that speaks. That would make things a lot easier.'
"Are you connected to that strange being from the hidden cave?"
Once again, the creature nodded.
"These runes on your body… did he put them there?"
Another confirmation.
"Do you understand what he did to you?"
This time, the response was negative. The dog's head moved slowly, heavily, as if the question itself disturbed him.
Tristan remained silent for a few seconds. He still didn't understand what stood before him.
"Are you free from his influence?"
The creature hesitated.