Gideon stood at the window, pinching the bridge of his nose.
His chest rose once. Barely.
"Ah… so that's how I got here."
He said it quietly—not for them, not for anyone.
Fabric rustled. A soft creak from the bed.
"Come back to bed, Gideon."
The redhead sat upright on the mattress.
Her voice was rough with sleep, but reaching.
"It's late."
The brunette stirred, pulling the blanket over her shoulders.
"You don't have to keep doing that."
The black-haired one—dark eyes behind messy bangs—leaned on one elbow, watching.
"You won."
She said it like a question.
Gideon didn't respond.
He looked at the window.
The light cut through like memory.
He snorted—a small, breathless sound.
"Wouldn't hurt."
He turned. Took a step toward the bed—
CLAP.
A single, violent sound.
Sharp. Hollow. Wrong.
It hit his skull like a rifle shot.
He turned sharply—eyes scanning the apartment.
No movement. No sound.
But something had changed.
The edges of the world peeled.
The light. The walls. The girls.
Blurring.
And then—
Darkness.
He drifted.
Weightless. Bodiless.
Nothing but thought—then too much.
Screams returned.
Sharper. Hungrier.
Faces surged into the void—not fading, but burning back into him.
A thousand moments. A hundred kills.
The blood didn't evaporate. It returned.
A child's voice—small, pleading.
"Daddy, don't go."
Gideon's jaw tightened, a crack in the void.
Then—Suarez.
Or what was left.
Only the intact side of his face at first.
Still. Silent.
Then the voice.
"Well, look who showed up."
Suarez turned, head twitching like something half-dead.
His jaw—shattered. Lip gone.
Teeth like exposed roots.
"Gideon fucking Krieg."
His voice was hoarse, wet.
Gravel and blood.
"Big bad wolf with that dead-man stare."
"You think silence erases what you've done?"
He laughed—short, hateful.
"They worship you like a legend."
"But I saw the truth."
"You're just a butcher hiding behind calm."
He grinned—one half of a skull.
"I died in pieces. You're still walking like yours never fell."
Gideon didn't flinch.
The void pulsed.
Screams cracked around him.
Voices surged—dozens, hundreds—every one his.
He stood still.
Then:
"Nice try."
"Even dead, you're a bore."
Everything stopped.
The screaming. The pulsing.
Suarez paused—like the memory forgot how to respond.
Gideon rolled his shoulders.
His aura came.
Not light. Not power.
Pressure.
A blood-deep crimson—leaking, not glowing.
It coiled around him like something earned.
A bear formed behind him—massive, roaring, primal.
The shadows pulled back.
The voices went silent.
Suarez took one step back.
Gideon stepped forward.
And laughed.
"Even in death…"
"…you're nothing."
He clapped his hands.
The void shattered.
Cold.
That was the first truth.
A stone floor beneath him. Damp. Pitted.
No warmth. No light.
He didn't open his eyes.
He felt. Pebbles under his back.
A puddle by his ribs.
A drop of water landed on his forehead—didn't move.
He breathed in.
Earth. Salt. Rust.
A slow drip.
He opened his eyes.
The world was dim.
Not black—dim.
Ten feet of vision, no more.
He sat up. Slowly. Without panic.
The space wasn't human.
Cavernous. Too wide. Too quiet.
He felt the floor.
Still naked.
"Of course."
He rose.
Didn't ask where he was.
Didn't panic.
He brushed his jaw with his thumb.
Smirked slightly.
"Interesting."
He started walking.
Barefoot. Quiet.
Seconds folded into minutes.
Minutes into hours.
No sun. No light shift.
Only skin slapping stone.
The cold. The dark.
The dark swallowed everything beyond fifty meters.
Still, he walked.
Brushing jagged rock. Finding a stalactite. Always forward.
He didn't think. Didn't wonder.
Until he felt it.
Eyes.
Behind him. Around him.
Watching.
He paused. Listened.
Only the drip of cave water.
But his instincts screamed.
Something's following.
He moved faster—reached a narrow bend.
Turned the corner.
Pressed his back to the wall.
Held his breath.
Tock.
Tock.
Tock.
Soft. Pacing.
He tied his black hair back.
Hands steady.
Tock.
Tock.
A pause. Heavier.
"Medium build," he murmured, knot tightening.
Tock.
Tock.
Another pause.
No… taller.
The cadence quickened.
TOCK. TOCK—
Silence.
Then—
CRACK.
Seven gnarled fingers wrapped the cave wall's edge.
Twisted. Swollen like tree knots.
The stone shattered as they gripped it.
Like a strongman crushing limestone.
Gideon stepped back once.
Fell into stance.
Feet wide. Hands loose.
Eyes locked forward.
A face appeared—just the side.
Not a head. Not yet.
It leaned around the stone.
Two yellow pinpricks blinked into view.
Originally scheduled for 24 hours out.Posting it now instead.This is where the descent begins.