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Prologue 5 (v2)

Eilor opened his eyes. A smile slowly formed on his face—a nostalgic, unbalanced smile. He raised his left hand and touched a part of his face, his right cheek, as if trying to hide that expression. His other hand went straight to his chest, pressing firmly, as if confirming his body was still there.

"Feels good... I didn't expect to remember so much still. I wonder how my parents are doing. And uncle?"

He sighed, covering his eyes with his left forearm without lowering his head. He remained still for a few seconds. When he lowered his arm, he did so slowly. He wiped away the tears that had almost reached his eyelids.

He blinked several times.

The darkness was lifting—barely. The shadows above him began to take shape. The ceiling, which had been an impenetrable blot, started to gain definition.

His eyes were adjusting.

"Ceiling… It's low. In other areas, you couldn't even tell if there was one. But here… why?"

A chill ran down his neck.

Eyes.

He froze.

Swallowed.

Blinked.

Once. Twice.

Opened his eyes wide.

Didn't move.

A sharp spasm shot down his back.

His pulse spiked. His throat clenched.

"Is there something up there...? No way. Since when has it been there?"

Eilor's gaze sharpened. His lips pulled back slightly, baring his teeth. Tension locked him from feet to jaw. He felt trapped.

With a quick but controlled movement, he reached behind his back. Formed a blade with his fingers and cut through the air in three short, sharp strokes.

One. Two. Three.

Vin didn't see him.

Norlick didn't either.

They were in front of him. But something in the air shifted.

Confused by his sudden sharp stare, they also felt the abnormal tension in Eilor's body. It was different. Heavy. Almost vibrating.

Norlick turned his head first, following Eilor's gaze. Vin followed a second later.

And then they saw it.

Stuck to the ceiling, partially shrouded in shadow, was a small, amorphous body—a black mass dotted with reddish protrusions. It had empty, sunken sockets placed in positions that didn't belong to any human or animal face. Some of them moved. Others pulsed.

Their breath caught.

Goosebumps prickled their skin.

A warning sensation exploded inside their heads.

That thing… was dangerous.

Vin, eyes locked on it, reached for his waist. He searched frantically. Shook his coat. Felt around. Grabbed a hilt. Yanked it free in one sharp pull.

It was a short blade, like a dagger, though the edges were worn and chipped. The hilt was wrapped in cracked tape.

Norlick moved faster. His right hand lifted—firm. Two fingers extended, pointing at the air.

Behind him, a small golden light formed silently. It floated. Vibrated.

And then…

The creature leapt.

A black blur dropped from the ceiling with force. Its limbs weren't clear. A mix of claws, legs, and membranes—as if its body had no fixed form. It lunged straight toward the main group, ignoring Norlick, Vin, and Eilor entirely. Leaving them behind.

But it wasn't a total surprise.

Eilor's gesture had been seen by Sol. And while he didn't fully understand what was happening, his body remembered the thousands of times that motion had saved them in the past.

His instinct screamed danger. Best to retreat—and not just in any direction. He guessed it was safest to move toward the wall behind the group, as far back as possible, yet still close to the others.

Sol extended both arms and waved them back and forth, signaling silently for everyone to move.

And they did.

They pulled back. They didn't run. Didn't scream. Just slid away, some stumbling as they changed direction.

But it wasn't enough.

The creature closed in too fast. The leap was long, precise. In the air, its mouth began to open.

And what unfolded wasn't a jaw—it was a tunnel of fangs, an impossible spiral expanding far beyond what its head should allow.

A suction force activated.

Air was dragged in. Dust and spores from nearby fungi lifted as if something was breathing violently. The group felt their bodies pulled forward.

It was going to devour them. That abominable mouth took up more than half of what looked like its torso.

Some covered their mouths, trying to hold back a scream that wouldn't come. Others backed away, eyes wide, unable to look directly at the thing.

Others tried to hold onto anything they could.

As for Elena—she clutched Thomas tightly to her chest, refusing to let go. The grip had awakened him, along with the pulling force.

Disoriented, he had no idea what was happening. He couldn't see it. Couldn't see his mother's desperation—but he felt it. The fear.

And then, the golden light struck.

A glowing orb, the size of a tennis ball, cut through the gloom like a precise shot.

The area lit up completely, overpowering the bluish glow of the fungi. The inside of the creature's mouth was bathed in gold just before impact.

The blow was dry. Brutal.

The creature was knocked off course, flying several meters beyond where it would've landed.

It crashed heavily onto the rocky ground. Its body writhed. It fell far—far from where it had aimed: directly atop the group.

From its mouth and scorched back, smoke began to rise. A thin, steady thread. But its torso still rose and fell. It was breathing.

Breathing.

Still watching, Eilor lunged toward his improvised canteen. It was strapped to his chest with a cross belt. He grabbed it tightly with his left hand, tore off the cap with his right, and threw the water in a wide arc from left to right, in front of him.

The liquid splashed, forming a wide patch on the floor.

The rest of the group began to move toward them—however they could, with whatever they had. Some abandoned backpacks, others their improvised weapons. The formation was chaotic, but they advanced.

Norlick didn't take his eyes off the beast. He was surprised to see water land on its back, soaking its fur. Then he saw the canteen bounce and roll behind the body.

He turned to his right.

It was Eilor. Still pointing with the fingers of his right hand. His arm trembled. Fingers tense like blades. His face contorted. He wasn't blinking.

He was ready to attack again if needed.

He wouldn't let it move an inch.

The thread of smoke still rose from the motionless body.

...

Until the mouth opened again.

Not where it should've.

Not from a wound.

It simply… appeared.

As if a new crack had split open in its flesh.

And that crack grew.

And grew.

Until they saw the source of the smoke: a burned area deep inside the new opening.

But there was no blood.

Just a superficial burn. The impact hadn't pierced any tissue—only singed part of its inner fur.

...

The body stopped moving completely.

No spasms.

No twitching.

No breathing.

After two unbearable minutes of silence, of restrained tension, it seemed like it was finally over.

The group, at last, was together.

Some sat down. Others lowered their arms. Sol collapsed to his knees. Someone tried to hold back a cough.

But Eilor didn't relax.

And soon, he realized he wasn't alone.

Vin and Norlick were still standing. Frozen. Alert.

Eilor took a breath.

And looked at the creature again.

With the same focused stare. He was searching—for a shift, a signal.

But he didn't see it.

His face tensed. Doubt creased his forehead and jaw. It gave him away.

"Is it not dead...? It can't be. It's impossible. Or is it?"

And then he understood.

"What?! How could I forget?! None of us have the strength to kill anything in this place..."

And in that instant, he felt a change.

The air compressed around him. A chill snuck between his ribs.

He turned his head. Looked left—at Norlick. Turned right—at Vin.

Vin and Norlick shifted their stances. Tried to warn the group. To signal. To shout.

But they stopped.

Not like before.

This was worse.

They froze.

As if the air had been ripped from their lungs.

As if something had stolen all warmth from their bodies.

An overwhelming presence wrapped around them all.

They couldn't speak.

They couldn't move.

They couldn't breathe.

Everything turned dense.

Suffocating.

As if their lives hung by a thread...

A razor-thin thread...

And every single one of them knew it.

Their faces said it all.

It was about to snap.

---

"Impossible. How could I forget it? It was always impossible."

Drip Red drops fell into a pool of blood.

A young man stared in horror as the drops hit the surface. His face was tense, unwilling to accept what he saw. He trembled. Tried to raise his head, to lift his gaze.

It was blood—blood flowing and dripping from a body hanging by something that had pierced it.

It moved... No. Something was moving it. That thing.

The thing that had pierced him. Still there.

Blended with the bluish glow of the mushrooms. A red one sat in the middle of the blood pool.

Amid the blue light, a red glow revealed it. A creature...

Serpentine. Around five meters long. No eyes. No visible limbs.Its pale, fibrous body was segmented—like a giant spinal cord.Membranes dotted its surface, pulsing open like gills, releasing reddish vapor with a wet hiss.At the front, it branched into a cluster of needle-like appendages, capable of piercing flesh and bone with surgical precision.

— Walt... —the words barely escaped his lips. He lay on the floor, looking at his companion.The young man, still shaking, tried to bring his hands together——but before he could, the hanging man screamed.

— EILOR!! ¡¡LONG LIVE THE DRAGON OF LIGHT!!He clapped his hands together——and then, he exploded.

Rage

Eilor's face twisted—sudden rage, sparked by a flash of memory. But beneath it... confusion.

He didn't understand why his memories were coming back in fragments. But the rage had, for a moment, dulled the fear.

He figured it was a good chance to think more clearly—or so he thought, while watching Vin make a series of gestures, trying to signal the others.

While Vin moved, Eilor turned to the creature lying on the ground.

But the more he looked, the slower time seemed to pass. And the longer he stared, the more his confidence faded—melting from his face like wax under heat.

He felt colder. More suffocated. More uncertain. Weaker. Fragile.

Next to the creature, the floor began to rise.Something was trying to emerge.

A slash—Then another—And another.

Thin cuts began to connect, forming a larger wound that split open to the sides.

Something inside was pushing, forcing the opening wider—soaked in thick black fluid.

The higher it rose, the less air there seemed to be in the room. The warmth faded. The silence grew heavier.

No one could tell if it was all in their heads—or if something real was pressing in.

As the figure emerged from within, the black liquid poured off its body in thick threads, like hot oil. Wherever it touched the floor, it didn't spread.

It just kept rising, layer by layer, exposing more of what lay underneath——and with every inch, the air grew heavier.

Eilor was the only one still watching directly.Not even the purple water could help him resist that pressure.

Thud.A dry sound came from behind him.

"Did someone faint? Who was it?""I… I can't turn around. Oh. Of course. How could I, with that thing right in front of me?"

Another thud—this time overlapping with the last drops that now hung frozen in midair.

It was standing. Upright.Right in front of Eilor.

That thing.

Taller than any of them. Thin like a post made of bone.Its head was faceless, and from its back sprouted extra limbs—bony, reaching out in every direction like antennae.

No eyes. No ears.

And yet... it noticed them.

It turned slightly. A minimal shift. But unmistakable.

Eilor held his breath—not from fear, but instinct.He felt it in every part of his body:He shouldn't move.Shouldn't even think.

Too late.

He already had.

The creature tilted its head toward him—

And began to walk.

Its thin limbs stirred slightly, sensing the air.But there was no doubt—it was perceiving him.

Eilor stepped back. Not from courage. Not from choice. Pure survival.

His face said it all.Then—another step.

He could feel the others behind him doing the same.

No one made a sound.No one breathed.

Even those not looking at it—They felt it.

It wasn't watching them.

But it was following him.

Not with eyes.With something else.

Then—

"What if I jump right and turn?" Eilor thought.

A flicker.A strategy.A simple escape impulse.

The creature shifted its body.

And took a step.

Toward him.

It wasn't fast.Wasn't sudden.But it was deliberate.Conscious.Precise.

"No... No way..."

His mind began to overflow—Images, routes, outcomes—

His thoughts spiraled.

And with every new thought, the creature moved faster.

At first, a step every three seconds.Then two.Then one per second.

And then—

A hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him backward—snapping him out of it.

He managed to plant a foot, steadying himself.

He turned to see who had pulled him.

It was Vin.

He had him by the shirt, their eyes now locked.

Vin looked just as broken—if not more.He was barely holding on.

If Vin was at his limit...The others couldn't be far behind.

Still, Eilor couldn't help it.He had to see what they were seeing.

Even if it meant turning away from that thing.Even knowing the risk.Even knowing how dangerous it was not to keep watching it.

But...

He would rather face death a thousand times—than look directly at that thing again.

Then he heard it.Behind him.To the right.

Not a roar.Not a step.

A sigh.

Faint.Distant.Human.

— "...Sol..." —a voice murmured.

Eilor tensed.He turned toward the whisper.

It was Norlick.

His face was twisted in pain—different from Vin's or Eilor's—as he bit his lips, refusing to turn around.

Eilor tilted his head.Vin had heard it too.

A body on the ground—

It moved.

A spasm.A twitch of fingers.A voice, barely a thread, breaking under the weight of the air.

It was Sol.

The youngest among them—besides Thomas and Norlick.

Now lying on the ground, eyes closed, forehead damp with sweat.Her breathing was shallow. Ragged.

But that wasn't the most disturbing part.

— "...It's... here..." she whispered.

In the silence surrounding them, the words carried far too clearly.

They hit hard.

And among the group, no one reacted more sharply than—

Ban.

Sol's eyes remained shut, but her face twisted with emotion.Fear. Desperation.Like she was forcing her eyes to stay closed.

Then—

Black stains appeared. Like drops.First one. Then another.

They spread, blooming across her hands, her arms, her clothes—perhaps even more, where they couldn't see.

Sol remained motionless.

The sight—the process—made Eilor and Vin tense.

They knew what it was.

They'd seen it before.

Vin turned pale.Eilor's chest tightened.

They knew what came after those stains.

And what it meant for Sol.

The Oclusero was here.

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