Nyxia awoke to the acrid scent of ash.
It filled his lungs, clinging to his throat like smoke made solid. The air was heavy suffocating, toxic and when he opened his eyes, the world around him burned.
The city was in flames.
The once-golden spires were now blackened skeletons, groaning as they crumbled into molten ruin. Red light danced across the cobblestones, where rivers of fire consumed everything they touched. The sky itself wept ash, veiling the sun behind a choking pall of despair.
Then—wind.
A sharp gust brushed across his face, cold as the breath of a storm. He turned, squinting through the haze, and saw her.
A woman stood amidst the inferno.
Her hair, long and pale as drifting cloudlight, flowed in the chaos as though untouched by flame. Silver feathers gleamed faintly from her ornate garments, and her eyes burned with a tempest's fury. She seemed not of this earth a spirit of the heavens, furious and wounded.
And yet… she felt familiar.
Nyxia's heart stuttered. How do I know her?
Before he could speak, the woman's fingers flexed and the air around her howled.
A blast of power screamed across the street, slamming into the ground where Nyxia had stood. He dove aside, the impact tearing a crater through the stone. Shards of rubble struck his face.
"Why are you attacking me?!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. "I've done nothing wrong!"
Her voice cut through the roaring fire like a blade.
"Nothing wrong? NOTHING WRONG?!"
Her fury trembled not with doubt, but with grief so raw it bled into every syllable.
"You know what you did," she said. "The city bleeds because of you! The guardian of the northern peaks lies dying our people torn apart and you have the audacity to ask me what you did wrong?!"
The words struck like hammer blows.
Nyxia's throat tightened. The fires roared louder, and beneath the din, his heartbeat drummed like thunder.
"I didn't—"
He couldn't finish. His mind was blank, his fear a rising tide.
He ran.
Through streets collapsing under their own weight, through smoke so thick it burned his lungs, Nyxia fled. Buildings folded inward, devoured by fire. Screams echoed from every direction. The world was dying—and he was at its center.
Ahead, the stone road gave way to the dark outline of the forest. It loomed like salvation—or a grave.
He sprinted toward it, but behind him, her voice carried on the wind.
"Running won't change what you've done, Nyxia!"
A shockwave split the ground beside him. Dirt and flame erupted skyward. He threw himself into the trees, rolling hard over roots and moss until the light of the burning city faded behind him.
He stumbled to his feet, chest heaving.
I didn't do anything… so why…?
Then the ground trembled.
He turned just in time to see her descend through the smoke, the light around her flickering like lightning behind storm clouds. She landed softly, her aura crackling with restrained power.
"This is pointless," she said, raising her hand—then froze.
Her gaze shifted back toward the city. Even from here, the fires could be seen spreading, devouring what little remained.
Her jaw tightened. She exhaled sharply.
"This isn't over," she muttered, voice like distant thunder.
Then, with a burst of wind, she vanished—rushing back toward the inferno.
Silence followed. Only the distant roar of fire remained.
Nyxia sank to his knees. His chest felt hollow, his breath shallow and broken.
What did I do?
The question echoed in the dark like a curse.
And then memories.
Faces. Screams. The smell of blood and smoke.
A mother clutching her burned child. A man kneeling in the street, praying for mercy that never came.
And above it all a voice.
"Papa?"
A child's cry small, terrified, and familiar enough to shatter him.
He could see her. Her eyes wide, glistening with tears as the flames surrounded her.
"Papa, save me?"
The memory tore through him. His body shook.
Tears fell freely as he clutched at the dirt beneath him, whispering through choked sobs,
"What did I do…? What did I do?!"
His scream echoed through the forest, swallowed by the dark.
Then—light.
A tear in reality opened before him, shimmering like oil.
From it stepped a figure clad in obsidian armor, trimmed with faint purple fire. The glow crawled along his form like living flame, rising from the back of his helm in ghostly plumes. His eyes were hollow, burning with something ancient and hungry.
He moved like judgment incarnate.
Nyxia couldn't hear his words at first only a distorted roar building in his skull until it became unbearable.
C̴̢̢̱͓͔͉̯̻͙͕̙̄̎̊̓̎̾̈̒͘͜O̶͓͒̄̀̔̓̅̈́̍̓͝N̵̦̘̜̄̿͜͜S̶̙̪͉̮̭̙͔̗̃̓̍͘Ū̶̡͔̰̰Ṁ̴̗̓Ê̸̮͔̣̼̩͒̈́̃̈́͋̑͆͘
Over and over, the word pounded in his mind
C̴̢̢̱͓͔͉̯̻͙͕̙̄̎̊̓̎̾̈̒͘͜O̶͓͒̄̀̔̓̅̈́̍̓͝N̵̦̘̜̄̿͜͜S̶̙̪͉̮̭̙͔̗̃̓̍͘Ū̶̡͔̰̰Ṁ̴̗̓Ê̸̮͔̣̼̩͒̈́̃̈́͋̑͆͘
He lunged without thinking, every instinct in his body igniting. His hands clawed, fists striking, mind screaming but the armored figure blocked every attack with impossible grace. Steel met steel, shockwaves splintering the trees.
Hours or what felt like hours passed.
Nyxia's strength waned. His breath became shallow. His vision blurred.
The knight raised his blade high.
And in that final heartbeat, Nyxia did the only thing his body would allow. He lunged forward, grabbing the knight's helm with both hands.
A surge of energy exploded through him.
Purple light rippled across his skin. The air trembled. The flames that once wreathed the figure sputtered then dimmed.
The knight trembled violently. The energy consuming him faltered, collapsed inward.
And then stillness.
The light faded.
The flames died.
The armored figure slumped lifelessly to the ground.
And Nyxia, trembling and hollow, stared at his own hands hands that now glowed faintly with that same violet fire.
Nyxia awoke with a gasp, his body jerking upright as the remnants of his dream faded into the haze of waking. Cold sweat trickled down his temples, sticking to his skin. His chest rose and fell, breaths ragged, and for a moment he just sat there listening.
Then came the voice.
Noctem's Veil, always carrying that smug tone.
"Hey, you're awake, sleeping beauty. We've got more to slaughter."
Nyxia groaned, rubbing his face. His hands came away tacky his skin was coated in a layer of dried blood, some of it his, most of it not. The metallic scent clung to him like a second skin.
"Hey," he muttered, standing and looking down at himself. "You guys have a cleaning function or something?"
From somewhere behind his mind's eye, Ebon Wrath replied dryly, voice like grinding metal and gunpowder smoke.
"We do, but it only affects us. You, on the other hand, might want to invest in soap."
Noctem snickered.
"Maybe your clothes have a cleaning enchantment?"
Nyxia groaned again, dragging a hand down his face.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
He rose, every muscle in his body stiff from sleep and battle. The camp around him was eerily quiet now only scattered corpses, a cold fire pit, and the stench of iron and rot. Searching through what remained, he found some stale bread, a handful of bruised fruit, and a few animal pelts stiff with old sweat and dirt. No water.
He sighed and slung the pelts over his shoulder anyway.
"Guess this'll have to do."
With that, he walked.
The stone beyond the camp stretched endlessly, its jagged formation casting shadows like skeletal fingers. Nyxia wandered without purpose, chewing idly on the bread that crumbled to dust in his mouth. His boots crunched through dry leaves, and occasionally he'd toss a fruit core into the underbrush just to hear it rustle.
Hours passed or maybe minutes. Time felt strange here.
Eventually, the terrain began to shift. The dirt underfoot gave way to slick stone, and a faint, bluish light began to glow from beneath the cracks. Nyxia followed it, curiosity winning over fatigue. The light grew stronger, forming a faint trail that led him to the edge of a cliff.
Below, an opening yawned in the earth its rim surrounded by luminescent moss that pulsed like a living heartbeat. The faint drip of water echoed from below.
Noctem's Veil hummed thoughtfully.
"A way down, perhaps? The air feels… different."
"Maybe another floor," Ebon muttered. "Or a trap."
Nyxia didn't care which. He was tired of wandering.
He found a jagged path carved into the cliff's side and began his descent. The deeper he went, the more the world changed. The dim blue glow gave way to radiant emerald and violet light a mushroom wonderland unfolding before him.
Massive fungal stalks rose like trees, their caps glowing in shades of sapphire and crimson. The ground shimmered faintly with scattered crystals embedded in moss, reflecting the light in fractured rainbows. Spore motes drifted lazily through the air like glowing snow.
Nyxia blinked in awe.
"...Well, this is new."
Noctem let out a low whistle.
"It's… kinda pretty. You know, if you ignore the fact that it probably wants to eat you."
Ebon chuckled, low and dark.
"Everything in this place wants to eat him. Including us."
Nyxia rolled his eyes, stepping forward and brushing a hand along one of the glowing mushroom stalks. The surface felt cool and slightly wet. Somewhere in the distance, faint chittering echoed small things scurrying in the shadows.
He moved carefully, pushing aside hanging vines of phosphorescent moss as he ventured deeper. The ground was soft, giving slightly under his boots, and the air smelled faintly sweet like overripe fruit and decay.
As he walked, faint trails of glowing spores drifted up from his steps, forming tiny spirals in the air.
The deeper he went, the stranger it became glittering crystals growing like flowers from the walls, veins of light pulsing underfoot, and the occasional ripple of movement between the mushroom trunks.
Nyxia stopped, narrowing his eyes.
Something was watching him.
Noctem's Veil murmured quietly.
"Eyes in the dark. Big ones."
Ebon's tone hardened.
"Get ready. The next floor's never a gift."
Nyxia reached for the hilt at his side, his bloodied reflection glimmering faintly in the blade's dark steel.
"Then let's see what this one has to offer."
Nyxia trudged deeper into the luminous forest, the glow of the mushrooms rippling across his blood-streaked skin like fractured moonlight. The air was damp and heavy with the smell of moss and mineral, but there was something else now a faint, refreshing sound that teased his ears.
Running water.
He turned toward it, following the sound as it grew louder, clearer. Between two massive fungi trunks, he found it a stream of crystal-clear water winding through the undergrowth, glowing faintly from the bioluminescent moss coating its stones.
For a long moment, he just stared. The gentle gurgle of the stream was alien in this place too peaceful, too natural. His reflection shimmered on the surface, streaked with dried blood and grime. He sighed and began walking alongside it, boots crunching over slick pebbles.
The stream widened as he followed it, winding between glittering rock and pulsing fungal stalks until the air shifted colder, fresher. The sound of rushing water thundered ahead. He stepped through a curtain of hanging moss and stopped at the edge of a waterfall that cascaded down into a glowing basin below.
For once, there was no hesitation.
He inhaled, exhaled… then jumped.
The wind roared past his ears before the water swallowed him whole. The chill bit deep into his bones, but it was pure, clean. He surfaced with a gasp, shaking the water from his hair, watching as the blood and grime dissolved away in crimson ribbons.
Finally clean, he thought, almost smiling.
He waded to the edge and climbed out, collapsing onto the soft moss beside the pool. His chest rose and fell in slow, heavy breaths, droplets glinting on his skin under the crystal light. For the first time since waking in that camp, the silence didn't feel oppressive it felt… peaceful.
Then came the rustling.
At first, it was faint, just the whisper of movement through mushrooms. But it grew louder closer until the massive caps began to sway.
Nyxia's eyes snapped open. He rolled to his feet in one fluid motion, drawing Ebon Wrath in one hand and Shadow's Requiem in the other. Both weapons shimmered faintly with their respective auras cold steel and smoke.
The rustling grew sharper. Dozens of tiny shapes darted between the glowing stems. Nyxia tightened his stance, aiming both weapons at the largest clump of movement.
"Show yourself," he muttered.
The mushrooms parted
and something jumped out.
Nyxia tensed to fire, but froze.
It wasn't a monster.
It was… a mushroom. A small one barely the size of his forearm, with a thick stem and a cap that pulsed softly with pastel light. It squeaked. A strange, high-pitched sound like a rubber toy.
Then another popped out. And another. And another.
A swarm of little fungal creatures surrounded him, their stubby legs pattering on the moss. Their tiny eyes blinked curiously as they tilted their caps, emitting soft hums and squeaks that echoed in harmony.
One of them hopped closer. Nyxia reflexively aimed his revolver
but instead of attacking, the creature jumped into his chest.
He blinked, half-ready to blast it off, but the thing simply nuzzled against him, letting out a cheerful pweep! sound. Another climbed onto his shoulder, its cap wobbling like a hat. Then two more latched onto his arm, one hugging his knee.
Within seconds, he was surrounded.
Nyxia just… stood there.
"...What," he muttered flatly.
From inside his mind, Ebon Wrath's voice rumbled in mild disbelief.
"Huh. They're friendly."
Noctem's Veil snorted with laughter.
"Friendly? They're adorable. Look at this one he's trying to eat your hair!"
Nyxia sighed, watching one of the little mushrooms climb onto his head and wobble proudly like it had conquered a mountain.
"Great. From slaying ogres to being a climbing post for sentient fungus. What a downgrade."
Ebon chuckled.
"Could be worse. At least they're not trying to dissolve your face."
Nyxia exhaled slowly, feeling one of the tiny mushrooms curl up against his arm, its light pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
Nyxia sat down slowly, his muscles still taut from instinct. The soft moss cushioned his weight, cool and damp beneath him. The moment he settled, the little mushroom creatures reacted as if he had just declared recess.
They came running.
Tiny feet pattered against the glowing ground, a chorus of hums and squeaks echoing around him. Some of them barely the size of apples bounded right into his lap, their caps wobbling as they squeaked with delight. Others, larger and rounder, waddled up and leaned their glowing bodies against his arms like sleepy toddlers seeking warmth.
"...You've got to be kidding me," Nyxia muttered, watching one particularly bold mushroom climb onto his knee and stare directly into his face.
The creature tilted its cap, then made a soft pweep! sound and bumped its head against his cheek before sliding down onto his shoulder.
He froze.
It did it again.
Bonk.
"...Right," he sighed. "You're all children, aren't you?"
The forest around him pulsed with gentle light. More of the little fungi emerged from between the towering mushroom trunks each one different.
One wore a cap of glowing moss that looked like a shaggy green hat, pulsing faintly as it toddled closer. Another's body was covered in tiny bioluminescent spots, twinkling like stars when it giggled. Some were barely knee-high, while others stood up to his chest, round and plump like living lanterns.
They didn't attack. They didn't even seem afraid. They just… played.
One tried to climb his leg and fell over backward with a squeak. Nyxia caught it before it could roll too far, holding it in his hands. Its little stubby arms wiggled, and it let out a delighted hum that vibrated through his palms.
From within his mind, Noctem's Veil chuckled.
"Look at you, the mighty slayer of ogres, now king of the puffballs."
Ebon Wrath hummed in amusement.
"They seem to like you. Maybe they think you're one of them."
Nyxia gave a deadpan stare at the nearest mushroom climbing onto his arm.
"I don't think I'm squishy enough to qualify."
Still, he didn't move. Something about their warmth, their simple happiness, made his body relax in a way he hadn't realized he needed. The little ones began stacking themselves on his legs and lap like a living pile of mossy pillows, chirping softly as they settled in.
One tiny and glowing faint blue climbed up his arm and perched proudly atop his head. Another nestled into the crook of his elbow, humming a tune that vibrated faintly in the air.
The sound was… comforting.
For the first time since entering this labyrinth, there was no battle. No blood. No death. Just the quiet hums and playful energy of strange, childlike creatures who saw him not as a threat, but as something familiar safe.
He exhaled, leaning back slightly, allowing the smallest ones to crawl into his lap.
"Fine," he muttered softly. "Stay if you want. Just don't bite."
One squeaked indignantly and tapped his chest with its tiny hand.
Boop.
Noctem's Veil laughed in his mind.
"They've adopted you."
Ebon replied dryly,
"And here I thought our user would never find a following."
Nyxia sighed but couldn't help the faint twitch at the corner of his lips. The forest around him glowed brighter, as if responding to their joy.
He sat there for a while
the warrior surrounded by glowing mushrooms, their tiny hums echoing through the cavern like a lullaby.
A few of the smaller ones scurried away toward the larger mushrooms and returned moments later, struggling to carry a bowl-shaped fungus filled with a golden, syrupy liquid. They set it before him, all staring up with wide, glowing eyes.
Nyxia tilted his head, sniffing cautiously. The scent was sweet—like wild honey mixed with damp earth. Ebon's voice echoed faintly in his mind, amused.
Ebon: "Hah… either they're trying to poison you or they just want to feed their new pet."
He exhaled through his nose, half-smirking, and finally lifted the bowl. The little ones leaned forward in anticipation.
Nyxia drank. The taste surprised him smooth and floral, like honey blended with morning dew. Warmth spread through his chest, easing the ache of battle and washing away fatigue.
The moment he lowered the empty bowl, the mushrooms erupted in cheers tiny, excited squeals filling the clearing. A few jumped up and down while others spun in small circles, glowing brighter in joy. More began to emerge from behind the tall mushrooms, curious and friendly, surrounding Nyxia like children greeting an older brother.
For the first time since entering this strange forest, Nyxia allowed himself to relax. He leaned back slightly, watching them play, his eyes softening as he muttered,
"Guess not everything here wants me dead."
Then forest grew quiet eerily so. The cheerful hums and squeaks of the little mushroom creatures faded all at once. The moss on their tiny caps stopped glowing, and they turned in unison, facing the same direction deeper within the luminous grove.
Nyxia felt the shift immediately. The air grew still, thick with anticipation. He rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders as he drew Ebon Wrath in one hand and leveled Shadow's Requiem with the other. The rustling grew louder steady, deliberate steps moving through the tall mushroom grass.
Then, she appeared.
A tall, elegant elf emerged from the glowing flora, her long silver hair cascading like liquid moonlight. Her eyes shimmered with an unnatural luminescence, carrying both serenity and danger. Draped in garments woven from petals and faint light, she looked almost divine yet something ancient lingered behind her beauty, something that made the forest itself bow in silence.
Nyxia didn't lower his weapons. The elf's lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. She looked around at the mushrooms still clinging to his cloak and arms like frightened children, then brought a delicate hand to her mouth and laughed a melodic, enchanting sound that made the very air vibrate.
The moment she laughed, every single mushroom creature scattered in panic, darting back into the forest and vanishing beneath the glowing caps.
Nyxia blinked, lowering his aim just slightly, eyes narrowing. "What the hell—?"
The elf met his gaze, her expression gentle, yet layered with ancient mischief.
"They seem to like you quite a lot," she said, her voice smooth and melodic, echoing faintly as though the forest itself carried her words. "Oh… forgive me."
She bowed gracefully, the light shimmering around her.
"My name is Lirithen," she continued, smiling faintly. "Though… some once called me Lirithiel."
Nyxia didn't move for a long moment only his eyes followed the woman as she turned, her silver hair flowing behind her like liquid starlight. The forest lights shimmered in ripples across her back.
"I am Nyxia," he finally said, his voice low, guarded, steady.
Lirithen smiled softly, as though she'd been waiting to hear it. "Well then, Nyxia," she replied, her tone light and warm. "Nice to meet you. You must be awfully tired… come. My village isn't far. You may rest there before you continue your journey."
Without waiting for an answer, she began walking back through the glowing mushrooms, each step making faint ripples of light on the moss.
Nyxia kept his weapons trained on her for a few heartbeats longer, eyes scanning for traps. Then, reluctantly, he began to follow.
Ebon Wrath's voice hummed in his head.
"Strange. I don't sense a hint of arrogance. Elves, no matter how kind they act, always carry that trace of superiority. But that name… Lirithiel. I've heard it before."
Shadow's Requiem interjected with a dry scoff.
"Bah, names are wind. There are as many kinds of elves as there are blades in a graveyard. Maybe she's not even an elf maybe she's fey. Would explain the glow."
Noctem's Veil, meanwhile, hissed in delight.
"I dont care what she is she's suspicious. Stab her, Nyxia. Just once. Maybe twice. Find out what color she bleeds."
Nyxia ignored the whispering chaos in his head, his steps light but his aim steady. The elf's figure swayed ahead of him, graceful, serene almost too serene for a place like this.
The deeper they went, the thicker the luminescent mist became. Between the towering mushrooms, Nyxia caught fleeting glimpses of the small sentient ones the same little beings that had once hugged him. They peeked from behind the stalks, their glowing eyes wide, their expressions full of something he couldn't quite place.
Worry.
Fear.
They trembled at the sight of Lirithen walking ahead of him.
Nyxia's grip on his guns tightened slightly.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, "I see it too."
The mushrooms disappeared into the mist as Lirithen spoke over her shoulder, her voice calm and melodic.
"Don't worry, Nyxia. You're safe here."
But for some reason… every instinct in his body told him the exact opposite.
As they stepped through the veil of mist, the landscape opened into a breathtaking sight an entire village grown upon the backs of colossal mushrooms. The air shimmered with drifting spores that looked like fireflies; bridges of vine and woven moss connected the mushroom caps like suspended streets. Warm amber lights glowed from windows carved into living fungus, giving the entire place an otherworldly, dreamlike aura.
Nyxia's gaze darted everywheretoo perfect, too quiet. Even the air felt staged, like a painting that moved just enough to trick the eye.
From one of the bridges above, a tall, well-built elf dropped lightly to the ground. His hair was a pale gold, his smile polished, his movements effortless yet something in him made Nyxia's skin crawl.
"Lirithen," the male elf greeted warmly, his voice smooth as silk. "You've returned. And with a guest, I see."
Lirithen smiled, lowering her hood. "Baymon. It's good to see you too. Tell me how's Bitru? Still locked in his room?"
Baymon's laugh was deep and melodic, but… hollow.
"Ah, yes. The same as ever. Five days now, and still brooding in solitude. You know how he gets."
But as he laughed, his gaze slid past Lirithen to Nyxia.
The air thickened.
Baymon's grin didn't falter, yet something behind it changed. His eyes, for just a heartbeat, flickered color draining to a deep, endless black before returning to their normal hue.
Nyxia didn't flinch, but his grip tightened around Ebon Wrath, finger brushing the trigger.
The elf smiled wider, stepping closer, pretending not to notice the gun aimed at his chest.
"Such… unusual company you bring, Lirithen."
Ebon's voice murmured in Nyxia's mind like static crackling through a storm:
"Did you see that? His eyes. That wasn't a trick of the light."
Shadow's Requiem let out a low chuckle.
"Told you. Fey trickery. Never trust anything too pretty that smiles too much."
Noctem's Veil whispered, almost giddy.
"Let me stab him. Just one time. I'll even aim for non-lethal."
Lirithen, seemingly oblivious or deliberately ignoring the tension gestured between them.
"Baymon, this is Nyxia. He's… a traveler. He'll be staying with us for a while to rest."
Baymon's smile softened on the surface, but his tone carried a faint undercurrent something too knowing.
"Ah. A traveler. Of course."
Then his eyes met Nyxia's again, and for a moment, there was no warmth there.
Just the silent, empty acknowledgment of a predator studying another.
"Welcome," Baymon said softly. "To the Morning Star's Grove."
And Nyxia knew, without a doubt, that beneath this serene village of glowing mushrooms something was terribly wrong.
The further they went, the quieter the air became.
The faint laughter of the smaller elves and the hum of glowing insects faded as Nyxia followed Lirithen deeper into the village. Bridges of living vines creaked softly underfoot, glowing with faint veins of blue sap that pulsed like veins beneath skin. The scent of damp moss and sweet spores lingered everywhere, strangely calming yet wrong, in a way Nyxia couldn't describe.
Then he saw it.
Beyond the soft glow of the village, carved into the mountainside to the left, stood a monolithic gate of gray stone, half-swallowed by vines and fungus. The sheer size of it dwarfed everything else tall enough to touch the cavern roof, wide enough for a giant to walk through. Even from here, he could feel an oppressive weight pressing against the air, like the ground itself remembered what was buried there.
Above the archway, words were carved in ancient script but Nyxia could read them clear as day:
"Abandon all hope, ye who enters the Tomb of the Fallen Star."
Nyxia slowed, his voice low.
"...What's that place?"
Lirithen followed his gaze, and for the first time since he met her, her smile faltered—just slightly.
"Oh, that?" she said softly, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "That's the Tomb. It's where we come from… and where we will eventually return."
Her tone was serene, almost reverent but there was something detached about it, as though she were repeating a ritual phrase she no longer believed.
When Nyxia opened his mouth to ask again, she was already walking ahead, her steps light and graceful.
"Come," she said, her tone bright again. "You must be tired."
He frowned but followed.
They crossed another bridge, this one spiraling around a colossal mushroom, easily the size of a tower. Stone steps had been carved directly into its flesh, winding upward in a neat spiral, glowing fungi lining each step like lanterns. The air smelled faintly of earth and dew.
At the top sat a sprawling home grown rather than built. The walls were living wood and luminous caps, the ceiling stitched together from woven vines that glowed faintly gold. It looked cozy in a disarming way, like a cottage in a fairytale meant to lure lost travelers inside.
Lirithen pushed the door open, the hinges creaking like an old sigh.
"Please," she said with that same soft smile, gesturing toward a moss-covered couch. "Sit. I'll prepare the guest room."
Nyxia hesitated.
The couch was warm, too warm like something living. But exhaustion gnawed at him, and for now, he decided to play along.
He holstered Ebon Wrath and Shadow's Requiem, but didn't let his guard down.
As he sank into the moss, it seemed to breathe under him, reshaping to cradle his form.
From deeper inside, he could hear Lirithen humming softly a tune that twisted between beautiful and eerie, echoing faintly through the hollow house.
Ebon Wrath murmured inside his head:
"I don't like this. Her voice it's got a pull. Be careful, user."
Then the bells hit the air like knives.
A deep, metallic clang rolled through the village, shattering the peace of glowing mushrooms and humming spores. The entire forest seemed to flinch.
Lirithen burst back into the room, her serene expression now cracked with something Nyxia hadn't seen before fear.
"Stay here!" she said sharply, rushing toward the door. "They're attacking!"
"Who's they?" Nyxia demanded, but she was already gone.
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving only her fading footsteps and the low, dreadful rhythm of the bells.
He didn't listen.
With a muttered curse, Nyxia grabbed Ebon Wrath and Noctem's Veil, and slipped after her, moving like a shadow through the glowing pathways. The mushrooms seemed to dim as he passed, as if the entire forest was holding its breath.
When he reached the edge of the village, he froze.
The sky above the mushroom canopy had gone a sickly shade of violet, and at the border where the glowing forest ended stood an army.
Ranks upon ranks of dark elves, their obsidian armor gleaming under the bioluminescent glow. Interspersed among them were pale-skinned surface elves in full golden plate, their faces grim and hollow. Behind them marched giant sentient mushrooms, their caps studded with rune circles that pulsed like beating hearts.
And leading them two figures.
One in black armor trimmed with gold, his presence heavy as a storm. The other in white armor, golden edges gleaming, and on his helmet an emerald, glowing faintly in the center of his forehead.
When the one in black spoke, his voice carried across the village like thunder.
"Release the outworlder, you demons! We have tolerated your false sanctuary long enough. You have stolen the bodies of our kin, our families, our children! We know what you are!"
Lirithen stood before them, calm at first, her pale hair catching the strange light. Then her smile stretched too far, her voice warping into something inhuman as she laughed a sound like breaking glass.
"Not a chance. With the outworlder's blood, we will free him!"
Her eyes went black, and as her laughter echoed, so did the laughter of every elf around her. The peaceful villagers those who smiled at Nyxia earlier now wore grins that didn't reach their eyes. Their bodies twisted subtly, too fluid, too synchronized.
Nyxia raised his weapons, pulse quickening.
"What the hell are you?"
Then came the bang.
A single shot cracked the air Ebon Wrath's round.
It hit Lirithen square in the head. Her skull snapped back, blood and shadow bursting from the wound.
The laughter stopped.
The army across the field hesitated.
Then came the sound crunching, twisting, splitting. Bones cracked and rearranged as Lirithen's head lolled to the side. Slowly, impossibly, she stood back up, her movements jerky like a marionette on tangled strings.
Her head rolled loosely as she smiled, voice echoing from a throat that no longer needed to breathe.
"Ah, Nyxia… so good to see you. I'm sorry you had to find out about this so soon."
Nyxia said nothing.
His expression went blank and then he moved.
He charged forward, the world around him blurring. Noctem's Veil shifted into a long sword, black edge slicing through the glowing air as he closed the distance.
The corrupted elves surged toward him like a tide but they were too slow.
The first row fell in a single sweep, heads tumbling from shoulders, black ichor spraying in arcs that gleamed against the glowing mushrooms.
Ebon Wrath hissed in his mind:
"Finally. Let's clean house."
The night filled with the sound of gunfire and steel.
Lirithen's smile widened, shadow leaking from her mouth as she whispered to the black-armored elf in the distance,
"He's perfect. The he sings for his blood."
The moment Nyxia carved through the first group, something in the front ranks of the true elves snapped.
They had come expecting a hostage.
They had come expecting a negotiation.
They had NOT expected to watch their former neighbors peel off their own skin like cloaks and charge a stranger with demon-black mouths.
The black-armored commander roared:
"HELP OUTWORLDER! CUT DOWN THE DEMON-SHELLS!"
He charged forward, greatblade in hand, sprinting with supernatural speed. The emerald-helmed elf followed close behind, and then the entire army surged forward.
The battle instantly turned into a slaughter.
Corrupted elves their bodies hollowed out like puppets, limbs jerking too loose to be natural ran at the rescuers. Their "faces" twitched and tore as the demons beneath struggled to keep the shapes intact.
The commander met them first.
His blade came down in a brutal arc, slicing through an adult shell and its torso burst open, black mist screaming out like steam from a broken pipe.
A small corrupted "child" leaped at him next, its neck bending backwards like an owl's. He gritted his teeth and cut it down in one stroke but this time, the black ichor that spilled hissed against the ground like acid, proving there was nothing elven left inside whatsoever.
Behind him, the giant friendly mushrooms from his army lifted massive boulders like catapults and hurled them into clusters of demon-shells. The impacts exploded entire groups into black mist and limp skin-rags.
Meanwhile, Nyxia was still moving like a cyclone.
Gunshots cracked from Ebon Wrath, each round punching through a puppet's skull and bursting the demon inside like a rotten fruit. Noctem's Veil flowed between forms as he fought longsword, scythe, short-blade, each swing severing heads or slicing torsos open like peeling an overripe fruit.
The monstrous screams of the demon-shells filled the village, echoing off the glowing mushrooms.
The emerald-helmed elf shouted,
"OUTWORLDER! KEEP PUSHING FORWARD! DON'T LET THEM SURROUND YOU!"
Too late.
The corrupted elves began pouring out of houses, out of the mushroom homes, even crawling from the cracks in the giant mushroom trunks. They moved like insects skittering, clicking, crawling on all fours, their stolen skin stretching.
Nyxia's eyes narrowed.
The thrill sharpened in his chest again, that same manic heat from the goblin fight. He exhaled once
Then the horde collapsed onto him.
◇◇◇
The medical ward was silent except for the faint hum of the ventilation systems. Dr. Wagner groaned from the couch, one hand covering his eyes as if trying to press the headache back into his skull. On the floor nearby, Misha lay face-down, snoring softly into the tile.
Wagner nudged him with his foot. "Misha. Aufstehen… wake up."
Misha stirred with a grunt. "What happened…?"
"Verdammt if I know." Wagner staggered to the small kitchenette, opened a cupboard, and found a glass. "Last thing I remember we were at the Rusted Halo. Then… nothing." He filled the glass, drank half, and leaned against the counter, rubbing his temple.
A faint ringing broke the silence.
Wagner froze, eyes narrowing at a small phone sitting by the coffee machine. "Hm?" He picked it up slowly, inspecting it like it might bite. "Misha. Is this yours?"
Misha blinked blearily from the floor. "Too blurry to tell… wait no. No, that's not mine."
The phone kept ringing.
Same tone.
Over and over..
Wagner frowned, thumb hovering above the screen. "Then whose, exactly…?"
Wagner sighed and thumbed the answer button. "Ja?"
Zalthorion's voice crackled through the receiver, smooth and amused. "Congratulations on getting your first phone, Doctor. Also thank you for your latest experiment report. Though I must ask… why does it end with 'this thing is a masterpiece'? If I'm back in my old universe, the Geneva Convention on biological warfare would've needed an update."
Wagner winced. "Ah… I was drunk."
A low chuckle hummed through the line. "I see. Try not to be drunk while experimenting. The Council doesn't enjoy viral outbreaks again."
The line clicked dead.
Wagner stared at the phone for a moment, muttered something in German under his breath, then dropped it onto the coffee table. He turned to Misha, still sprawled on the floor, and helped haul him up. They collapsed onto the couch together, both rubbing their foreheads.
"Why," Wagner groaned, "did I never ask Zalthorion to make my body resistant to alcohol?"
Misha gave a dry laugh, immediately regretted it, and held his head. "He did, remember? You asked him not to. Said, and I quote, 'a good drink is the only medicine I trust.'"
Wagner just groaned louder. Silence returned for a while thick, heavy, familiar.
Then Misha muttered, "Hey… what's this 'great danger' that's supposed to be approaching Evolto City?"
Wagner blinked slowly. "What, he didn't mention it during the MTD broadcast?"
"No," Misha grumbled. "All he said was something big's coming."
"Well," Wagner said, pouring himself another glass of water, "Evolto City's about to drift into an Omniversal God Domain. And not just any one belonging to the arrogant ones."
Misha leaned back, exhaling sharply. "Oh, I hate those guys. Wait did the tracking tech finally improve? Last I checked, we could barely predict the city's movement."
Wagner looked at him over the rim of his glass. "No."
Misha asked confused "So how does Zalthorion know."
Wagner replied saying "I have no idea."
Then Dr. Wagner groaned and reached for the remote. "Maybe some noise will drown out this headache." The TV flickered to life, flooding the dim room with the sterile glow of morning news.
A tall, silver-feathered Aureliant newscaster stared solemnly into the camera, their translucent crest pulsing softly with each word. "Good morning, Evolto City. Multiple coordinated breaches have occurred across the industrial sectors overnight. Strangely, while property damage remains minimal, numerous facilities report drastic changes in output."
Wagner squinted at the screen as the anchor continued.
"One of the most concerning incidents was at Veltronic Motors, where a prototype third-generation FTL engine was confirmed stolen. Meanwhile, weapon factories previously reporting system failures are now running at two hundred percent efficiency. Exo-Guard stations also report unauthorized 'upgrades' to their armaments. Civilian homes in affected areas have even oddly received random technological gifts."
Misha frowned. "Gifts? Like what?"
"—complete lab equipment sets, experimental me