The azure flame burned quietly, its light casting soft ripples across the chamber walls. Lix sat near it, her eyes tracing lines of text across a worn book. Cole was asleep with his arms crossed, his breathing steady. Blindseer rested cross-legged beside them, motionless, the faint glow from his blindfold pulsing like a heartbeat in the dim light.
Nakate sat a little apart from them, staring into the grace. 'It reminds me of when I first met the Blindseer,' he thought, his fingers tracing the edge of his Storm Dagger. 'It hasn't even been that long… but it feels like I've known him for years. Maybe it's because of our training or that walk through the drowned city. Either way I trust him.'
The dagger caught the azure glow for a moment, reflecting a pale shimmer across his face.
He stood, stretching out the stiffness in his arms before glancing toward the others. "So," he said, breaking the quiet, "should we get going now that everyone's ready and healed up?"
Cole was the first to move. He stood, slinging his pack over one shoulder before quickly gathering their supplies. With practiced ease, he tossed the extra gear off the lift. The sound of it clattering against the stone below echoed faintly.
"Let's get going then," he said, tightening his straps. "And Nakate, don't bring too much with you. If you do, your soul might have a hard time resurfacing."
"Resurfacing?" Nakate echoed, tilting his head. It sounds like I'll have to climb back up to Lumen itself. "What do you mean by that?"
Lix closed her book and stood, brushing dust from her knees. "If you survive," she said matter-of-factly, "you'll resurface and when you do, you'll see your own soul reflected in a mirror. That's where you'll meet your heart. The more treasures or burdens you carry with you, the harder it becomes to leave the Depths and return to Lumen."
"Oh." Nakate looked down at himself, at the silver spear and Storm Dagger resting by his side. 'Well, I don't have much to begin with, so I doubt it'll be a problem.' He brushed some dust from his rags and paused, staring at his now worn boots for a moment.
"I don't think we should all go together," Blindseer said suddenly. Before anyone could question him, he stepped forward and gently pushing both Cole and Lix off to the lift's edge.
Cole and Lix exchanged a look, clearly understanding more than Nakate did. Lix gave a faint sigh but nodded. "We'll wait here until the lift returns," she said, stepping off the wooden platform beside Cole. "May the Voices of the Depths have mercy on you both."
Cole then looked at Nakate with a confident grin. "Don't worry too much. We'll be seeing each other again."
Nakate smiled faintly and stepped toward the lever beside the wooden floor. His hand hovered over it for a moment as he looked to Blindseer.
"Shall I?" he asked.
Blindseer gave a slow, approving nod.
The lift ascended through the dark shaft above, its chains rattling and groaning under the weight. The sound echoed endlessly, blending with the hollow stillness of the chamber until it was impossible to tell how far they had risen. The blue glow from the grace below grew dimmer and dimmer until it was swallowed by the dark.
Nakate placed a hand over his chest. 'I can feel my heart beating like crazy... but why- why can't I hear it?'
The realization hit him all at once, sharp and unnerving. His breathing was shallow, his pulse erratic beneath his palm, yet there was no sound. No rhythm. No proof of life but the faint pressure within his chest.
'Is it because I'm... dead in Lumen?' he thought, staring at the dimly lit chains above. 'No but... now that I think about it, I've never heard it. Not once after I got transmigrated. Not when I woke up in the desert, not when I fought those monsters, I haven't heard it at all in the Lumen nor the Depths.'
The silence around him deepened, pressing against his ears until it felt like the world itself had stopped breathing. The only sound was the low creak of the lift, the soft metallic hum of the chains shifting, and Blindseer's quiet, steady presence beside him.
Nakate lowered his hand, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he turned his gaze toward Blindseer. The man stood tall beside him, calm and unmoving, his armor gleaming faintly whenever the lift passed through one of the rare shafts of light that pierced the darkness.
For a moment, Nakate felt a strange reassurance in his presence. Even here, rising through the endless dark toward whatever trial awaited them, Blindseer seemed unshaken, anchored in purpose.
'He's not afraid at all,' Nakate thought, his grip tightening around his spear. 'Maybe that's what it means to take his oath… to stop being scared of what waits at the end.'
***
The lift creaked to a halt, and Nakate stepped off into the vast chamber before him. The air was heavy, still even, yet humming faintly with the sound of the chains that stretched upward into the unseen dark above. Four enormous iron links were fixed into the circular walls, each pulling downward on the glass dome that sealed the chamber, as if holding back the weight of the world itself.
Dim lanterns hung from the ceiling on long, swaying cords. Their cold blue flames flickered lazily, casting pale reflections across the polished stone floor. The light shimmered faintly on the curved glass above, creating ghostlike ripples that crawled along the walls like underwater phantoms.
Around the edges of the room were scattered signs of abandonment rotted barrels, toppled crates, and rusted cages, their bars twisted or broken. Dust and fragments of chain littered the ground, crunching faintly under Nakate's boots as he stepped forward.
The silence pressed in, broken only by the faint creak of the lanterns and the steady pull of the chains. It felt less like a room and more like a tomb, one built for something far larger than any human.
Nakate took a deep breath, the cold air of the chamber filling his lungs as faint echoes of the creaking chains lingered above. Blindseer raised a hand, motioning him closer to the center of the lift.
Nakate hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, the soft thud of his boots echoing against the hollow floor. "What is it?" he asked, glancing around the shadowed edges of the room, while Blindseer pulled out a black, strange lantern.
Blindseer didn't answer immediately. He stood still, his posture rigid beneath his layered robes, the faint white light from his lantern reflecting to the metal of his armor. Then, in a calm yet firm tone, he said, "Get ready."
Nakate frowned slightly, gripping his spear tighter. "For what?"
Blindseer lifted his head, the white glow beneath his blindfold intensifying as if he were gazing at something Nakate couldn't see. "The Trial is beginning," Blindseer said, then slipped a string of prayer beads around his wrist, their faint clinking echoing softly in the vast chamber.
A sudden, ear-splitting screech tore through the air. Nakate clutched his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. 'It hurts, as if it were inside my head!' The sound seemed to pierce through his skull, twisting and vibrating through his thoughts.
Then, as the screech faded, voices began to slither into his mind, it was distinct, cold, and inhuman.
'Voice of Odium' — "What a fetid lump of waste these ones are."The voice reminded him of a wretched man, dripping with disgust.
'Voice of Sequestration' — "Oh, little ones... You mustn't leave your cage... Though it is simply adorable to watch you struggle."This one was softer, almost motherly. Its gentleness made it even more unsettling.
'Voice of Enmity' — "These ones are fit for crushing... I shall relish in scraping their remains off of the floor."The words clawed through Nakate's head, sharp and suffocating, as if something monstrous pressed against the walls of his mind.
Then came the rasping sigh of the wretched one once more.
'Voice of Odium' — "Just be quick about it, will you? Their stench is already nauseating..."
The air around them shifted—heavy, electric. Particles of white light scattered into the air, swirling like dust caught in a divine storm. Slowly, they began to gather in front of Blindseer and Nakate, twisting, merging, and shaping into the form of a being.
Nakate felt the pressure rise in his chest, his breath trembling as the figure took shape from the light. 'An entity born from the whispers of the Depths themselves, huh?'
***
What the light formed before them made Nakate's face twist with disgust and horror.
Out of the coalescing radiance stood Klark, or what was once him. His body was burnt, blackened, and broken, skin peeled and flayed by claw marks that still leaked faint, glimmering trails of blood. His neck was torn open, jagged as if something had tried to rip his soul out rather than his flesh.
"I–I… no, we- we saw him decapitated… when the Alpha Sharko—" Nakate's words faltered, trembling. His chest felt tight as the reality before him refused to make sense in his head.
Blindseer's voice was calm, yet heavy. "You knew this man?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. A pause followed, filled only by the white hum of his black lantern. "He is no more. What you see now is an Enforcer... a vessel stripped of will and purpose."
From the walls, white chains erupted like lightning—snaking through the chamber with shrieking echoes. They coiled around Klark's lifeless form, binding it, crushing bone and metal alike. Each link sank into his flesh, glowing before turning black as tar. The light around them dimmed, consumed by the shadows crawling over the chains as they melded together, forging armor.
The transformation was slow, violent—metal screeched as it formed, spikes bursting from the shoulders and forearms like the jagged teeth of a beast. The armor's surface was rough, uneven, as if hammered together from the remnants of other fallen souls. Deep fissures ran along its chest plate, seeping a faint, ember-red glow that pulsed like veins filled with fire.
Then, with a low growl of shifting metal, six crimson eyes opened across the helmet's face—three on each side—burning through the darkness like the gaze of a spider. They moved in eerie unison, darting and focusing, intelligent yet empty.
A tattered red cape unfurled from its back, shredded and blackened at the ends, fluttering slightly in the heavy air as if moved by an unseen current. It was the only thing that carried color—a blood-soaked reminder of whatever humanity once lingered in the creature.
Chains slithered down from its right arm, coalescing into a massive warhammer, the same design Klark once wielded, but now warped, its twin maws twisted into jagged, uneven jaws that glowed with dark red runes, attached all around it.
When the process ended, the Enforcer dropped to the floor with a deafening thud, the impact sending dust and vibrations spiraling through the chamber. The wooden lift trembled beneath Nakate's feet.
It wasn't a giant, only a bit taller than Blindseer, but its sheer presence was crushing. The six glowing eyes stared from the darkness, and Nakate could still faintly make out the outline of Klark's frame beneath the armor.
Not a monster.
Not a stranger.
But a fallen man—trapped in a shell of iron and regret.