I woke not with breath, but with the memory of it—
a sharp gasp
that never reached my lungs.
Darkness.
Not night. Not shadow.
Something deeper.
A void that swallowed time, thought, and shape.
No floor beneath me, no sky above.
Only black.
Everywhere.
A silence so loud, it pressed against my chest like a scream denied.
I sat up—though I didn't remember lying down.
My hand rushed to my chest.
No wound.
No blade.
Only skin, warm and whole.
Where am I?
I stood, or thought I did.
My feet met nothing, yet I moved forward.
One step.
Then another.
A thousand.
Always forward.
Never changing.
No walls. No horizon. No sound.
Only that same, devouring black.
Time melted.
Did days pass? Years?
I don't know.
But I kept walking.
Something in me refused to stop.
Even when the darkness whispered.
Not in words, but in feelings—
Like fingers grazing the back of my neck.
Like breath against the skin of my spine.
It wanted me to look back.
But I didn't.
I wouldn't.
If this was Hell… then let it be.
Let me wander.
Let the dark chew me to bone.
I laughed once—mad and hollow.
It echoed nowhere.
Then, after what felt like eternity—
A voice.
A single sound that made the void tremble.
"Don't you feel tired?"
The voice was soft, yet it filled me like thunder inside my ribs.
My soul recoiled.
I froze.
My heart twisted violently in my chest.
I tried to speak, but my throat closed.
Finally, I croaked, "Who are you?"
A pause.
Heavy. Measured.
"I am known by many names," the voice said.
"Angel of the Abyss. Punisher of Broken Oaths. Abyss of Torment. I am the watcher between."
I swallowed, my mind racing.
The titles stirred no memory, yet they weighed on me like chains.
I clenched my fists, defiance rising.
"Who are you? You're not one of the Six Gods. I don't remember your name."
The realm laughed.
A primal, evil sound that shook the void.
The darkness itself writhed, bowing to the entity's mirth.
My knees buckled under the weight of that laughter.
My ears rang with its malice.
"Those gods are lesser," the voice said, dripping with disdain.
"They are not real. They are made gods."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice trembling.
The presence grew larger—amused.
"You will know."
Its words were both promise and threat.
I shivered.
The air grew heavier.
"Is this… Hell?"
Another pause.
A shift in the dark.
"No. This is not Hell. This is the space between life and death. The crossroads of endings. Those with no regrets pass. But you… you've walked this place for a thousand years and still, you remain blind. Why?"
I hesitated.
"Regret…?"
The word trembled on my tongue.
"I… I don't know."
"Liar," the voice whispered. Velvet and venom.
Then it touched me.
Not with hands.
But with knowing.
And the memory came flooding in.
Her.
A girl.
Black hair.
A smile made of stars.
Eyes that saw straight through me.
Her name on my lips—half-spoken, lost.
Pain cleaved through me.
I fell to my knees, clutching my head.
Her laughter. Her warmth.
The day I let go.
I screamed.
"Stop!"
But the memories didn't stop.
Tears bled from my eyes, hot and furious.
The voice grew tender—mockingly so.
"Now you remember. The regret. The vow."
I looked up.
And the darkness tore like paper.
Split open.
And he stepped through.
Tall as a tower.
Horns curling from a skull wreathed in shadows.
Eyes burning—not with flame, but with judgment.
Fire that didn't flicker.
Fire that devoured souls.
His body pulsed like molten stone beneath a cloak of smoke.
I couldn't breathe.
I trembled—for the first time.
Not from cold.
But from something primal.
A fear older than flesh.
He looked at me.
And smiled.
"Don't be afraid," he said.
He waved a hand.
And my fear fled my body like a fleeing bird.
I stood—not by choice, but by force.
"So. How do you wish to end your regret?"
I stammered.
"I… I don't know."
"Then I will choose for you."
He leaned closer.
I could see nothing beneath his hood but fire and ancient sorrow.
"You shall be reborn. Not as reward—but as punishment. A curse… of death."
Black smoke poured from his fingers.
It slithered into my chest.
It burned.
My blood howled.
My veins turned to ash and ember.
Before I could scream, he raised his hand.
"Begone."
And the boy vanished.
Silence returned.
The being stood alone.
Then noticed—
a white feather pendant lying on the ground.
He picked it up.
"…Interesting."
He smiled.
A dark, knowing smile.
Then stepped back through the ripped veil in the void.
And sealed it shut.
⸻
I awoke with a gasp that did reach my lungs this time.
My back ached.
My breath was ragged.
The air smelled of rot and dust.
Wood cracked beneath me.
I blinked.
The world returned slowly—
Shadows. A ceiling. Cobwebs. Cold stone walls.
I sat up in a crooked bed.
The sheets were threadbare.
My limbs—thin.
My skin—scarred.
My hands—small.
I ran to a broken mirror and stared.
A boy stared back.
Ten years old.
Black hair.
Hollow red eyes.
A body riddled with bruises and faded wounds.
I touched my face.
Tears welled.
Memories poured into me like molten glass.
Her.
The vow.
The fire.
The curse.
And I smiled.
Not with joy.
Not with sorrow.
But with certainty.
"This time," I whispered,
"I'll finish what I started."
And in that room, surrounded by dust and decay—
I began again.