The sea never sleeps.
It cried endlessly.
I drifted through its sobs, my body weightless, salt burning the wounds carved across my chest. The beach I washed up on was cold—dead. Bones scattered the sand. Some cracked open, others still wet like they'd only just stopped breathing.
Behind me, the forest exhaled. Long and hungry.
I understood.
I stood slowly. My sword was still at my side. Lamenting Edge. It felt heavier now, like it knew what was coming.
My shadow trailed behind me, clinging like a memory that wouldn't let go.
For two weeks, I'd lived off salted meat, dried over weak fires made from driftwood. I hadn't truly slept—just pieces of sleep, broken up by whispers in the dark.
Then that night…
I heard singing.
It wasn't beautiful.
No. It was twisted.
Like someone dragging a nail across the softest part of my soul.
I moved toward it.
I don't know why.
But I remembered.
That day.
The spawn that nearly tore me apart.
The forest thinned where the ground dipped. Mist crawled along the roots. That's where I saw her.
She stood in the middle of a glade. Glowing blue veins pulsed through the vines at her feet. The mist wrapped around her like a gown, delicate and filthy. Her skin—cracked glass, barely holding together. Black liquid seeped from beneath the silk across her eyes.
She didn't move.
But her lips did.
The Siren.
I crouched low, my breath catching. My fingers slid over the hilt of Lamenting Edge.
It felt colder than before.
I reached into my bag, pulled a shuriken.
She stopped singing.
I didn't hesitate. I threw it.
The blade whistled.
It sliced her cheek.
Then she screamed.
Not in pain.
Not in rage.
In grief.
Twisted, ugly grief that didn't belong in any world.
It shattered the air.
It made my head ring.
It made me angry.
I moved. Fast. Lamenting Edge already in my hand.
The blade struck her glassy skin.
I didn't wait. I stabbed her with Wailers and Bone.
She reached for me—claws glinting.
I shifted. My arm turned to shadow.
She missed.
I slashed across her waist. Her blood hissed, thick and black, eating into the ground like acid.
She moved with unnatural grace, faster than before. Her clawed hand raked across my shoulder.
Pain.
Bright. Sharp.
I staggered, but stayed standing.
Shadow poured from my palms, swirling like smoke, wrapping around her limbs.
I caught her by the throat.
And with both hands—
I drove Lamenting Edge into her chest.
She didn't scream again.
She just dissolved.
Like smoke.