We moved along a narrow path etched into the side of the canyon. Loose stone slides underfoot. Below them, dark trees reach up like fingers from the gorge. The wind is still. The air smells of ash and frost. Sera scans the cliffside, searching for encampments.
"This trail should lead us to the old supply cache near the mountain bend. If it's untouched, we can resupply, rest—" She stops.
Amber notices and responds. "What?"
Sera raises her hand and points.
I step ahead, crouching near the dirt.
"Tracks," I say as I rub my fingers through the grooves. Deep claw marks gouged into stone. They were widely spread apart.
Cyril studies the markings. "The Hollow Reaper."
Adrien frowns. "I thought it was behind us."
"So did I," I responded, though I kept the secret of secretly wanting it to be here.
We follow the path further, until it opens into a shallow plateau, flanked by dead trees and scorched Earth. The shadows are thicker here, and the light bends wrong. We slow down, taking in the area.
"Okay, definitely familiar. This reeks like last time." Amber tenses.
Sera checks our crystal compass. "There's a distortion here. A pull. Like something's warping space around this spot."
I walk into the middle of the clearing. Once there, I looked down. At the center, on the ground, lay a single black feather. I don't touch it.
"It moved ahead of us," I spoke lowly.
Cyril chimes in. "No. It wants us to follow."
"Then it's already waiting," Adrien says quietly.
They all look at me. I stared at the feather for a moment longer, then I raised my head. Looking toward the mist-shrouded pass just beyond the clearing.
"Then we give it what it wants."
We pressed forward shortly afterwards. About a half-hour passed, and we entered a narrow gorge between canyon walls. Ordinary rock and lichen should be instead etched with claw marks and covered in a thin layer of soot. No sound follows us in; even our footsteps feel muted.
"...I hate this place," Amber whispers.
"This isn't just where it moved. This is where it lives now." Sera said tensely.
"The trail loops behind us," Adrien added, his gaze sweeping the area.
Cyril replies flatly. "Of course it does."
As we continued descending, the terrain continued to change. Branches twisted, turned toward the path like they've been listening. The air grew colder, not just in temperature but also emptier. Then, our elements spark once more. They grow weaker with each descent level.
I walk in front, every movement deliberate. My flame is quiet now—not gone, just waiting. I stop when the trail widens into a dead grove. At the center, an ancient stone ruin appears. Behind it, a crude spiral of feathers and ash, fresh.
"Is this a nest? Or an altar?" Cyril spoke softly.
"No blood, no bones, just smoke," Sera replied, her eyes narrowing.
"Like it doesn't kill to feed. It kills to remember." Amber adds.
Walking towards the center, I knelt and picked up a cracked feather. It fell apart in my hand, as if it were ash. I stood up afterwards.
"This is where we fight it."
"Are we setting the trap?" Adrien asks.
I look up at the trees and the cliffs. The sky that I thought perfectly mirrored the real world no longer matches.
"This is the trap."
We worked quickly, as no one talked much. Amber set up crystal traps, shards half-buried around the perimeter. Cyril carves markings into the dirt, movement channels for visibility. Sera stands guard at the only open trail, and Adrien kneels with me near the altar. We're building a containment line. The light continues to fade, but unnaturally.
——————————————————————
The sun hadn't set, but the shadows grew longer anyway. The trees creaked, but there was no wind. Whispers played against the group occasionally. Some heard their name being called, but it was never the same voice twice.
Amber sees her younger self in the reflection of a crystal spike, only to blink and see nothing. Cyril's blade trembles when he touches specific stones. Each time, his vision flashes a different version of the clearing. One burned, one bloodied, another abandoned.
"Focus, it's starting," Sera says sharply.
Adrien turns away from the circle for only a second, but when he looks back, everyone is gone. He's alone. The stone ruin is crumbling, and the trees are charred. Then, he hears Daniel's scream.
"Danny?!" He screams in panic.
He runs back to the altar and slams into Amber, who grabs his shoulders.
"Adrien, stop! You were yelling at nothing."
He blinks. The grove is whole, everyone is still here.
"It's... bending what we see. What we remember." Adrien staggered.
——————————————————————
I look towards the others as they recover. I then feel a shift around me. The altar glows faintly with heat. It's familiar, wrong. I look up—Lia stands in the center of the grove—blood down her cheek, the same blank eyes from years ago.
"You couldn't save me then."
I couldn't move; my eyes widened. I couldn't speak either. It was like something was preventing me from doing so.
"You'll lose them too."
She reaches toward me. I reach out to her, fire coils in my palm, and see Jennifer standing there instead.
"Daniel...?" She says faintly.
I freeze for a moment, then blink. She's gone.
"Danny!"
I turn to the sound of the voice. It was Sera. Everyone was looking at me. My hand was raised. Flame lit. No one's near. I slowly lowered my hand.
"It's in our heads now."
A long, low inhale rolls through the grove. The crystals tremble. The air ripples like a slow exhale of smoke from the Earth itself. Then, a single claw touches the stone altar. The Hollow Reaper descends silently from the trees above, folding itself like a puppet from invisible strings.
Its mask is almost whole again. Its breath is calm. It speaks without words, but its presence hammers into each of us like a memory we were too afraid to keep.
"...It remembers us, too."
We moved as one, Amber threw the first shot— metal shards whistling past me—Sera's light arcs just behind Amber. Adrien's roots crack through the Earth. Even Cyril lunges, blade drawn. The Reaper doesn't flinch. It just watches. All their strikes hit, but it doesn't move.
Then, it moved... it moved fast. It's suddenly in front of me. Not attacking. Reaching. Before I can react, its hand wraps around my chest. Not crushing, but trying to claim me. The breath is pulled from me. I don't scream. I couldn't.
My arms went numb, and my legs vanished beneath me. I hear the others shout, Sera's and Adrien's the loudest. But the Reaper raises its other arm and drags the altar's breath closed—the groove twists. The wind shuts off, light vanishes, and it's just me. And it.
I fall to my knees. The world around me is black, but not empty. Ash spirals like snow. The altar glows faintly behind me, humming with something hot and ancient. The Reaper circles me slowly. Its mask is flawless now. I force myself to stand. My flame flickers along my palm, but it doesn't answer how it should.
"You picked the wrong fight," I say to it.
The Reaper tilts its head, then inhales.
I feel it pull, not just air, not heat—me. Thoughts, memories, regrets.
Lia's face.
Adrien's silence.
My voice screams alone in the forest.
The fire nearly dies. I grit my teeth.
"No—no, I'm still here."
I lunge, fire bursting from my fists. I swing once, twice. I don't care if it dodges, I want it to burn... It does. A slash across its chest scorches the porcelain. Smoke peels. It steps back, not injures, just... interested like it was testing me.
I realize it isn't trying to kill me. It's trying to pull something out. Something I don't want to show. And that's when I understand: This fight isn't about survival. It's about control. And if I lose control again, I become it.
——————————————————————
Sera slams her fists against the barrier. Light sparks but scatters like fog. Nothing breaks through. Amber throws another metal shard. It disappears before touching the dome. Adrien kneels at the edge. Eyes shut, fingers digging into the ground.
"He's still in there," Adrien worries quietly.
Cyril's expression looks grim. "We need to open this. Now."
"He can't fight that thing alone!" Sera yells desperately.
——————————————————————
I continued slugging him more. My fists are missing, but he doesn't approach. Instead, he circles me again. Always behind, always just out of reach. Every breath it takes pulls at my lungs. In my memories. My flame refuses to build—too thin, too cold. It was anger. It craves my wrath.
I won't give it that.
I won't—
"Why are you fighting me, Daniel?"
The voice.
That voice.
It's not the Reaper. It's not anyone I know. It's inside me. Ancient, familiar.
"Let me in. Let me help. You're not strong enough alone."
I grip my fists tightly. My nails dig into my skin. The flames lick the backs of my fingers.
"No. I'm not yours." I grit.
"Then you're theirs. Which is worse?"
The Reaper rushes. I sidestep just in time, its claws tearing through the air beside my throat. I respond with fire. It was wild, reckless, and desperate. It burns out, hot and white. The Reaper flinches. But I feel it—the shift—my skin tingles. My teeth gritted harder than they should—my heartbeat pounded like war drums.
"There you are."
The voice returned, and it was closer now.
"Let me show you how to win."
I see them—their faces. My friends. My people. I know what happens if I let go. I feel what happens if I don't.
——————————————————————
"Danny!" Sera yells once more. It is ignored.
"I can't hear anything—he's not answering!" Amber yells.
"Danny! Hold on!" Adrien shouts as he slams his palm to the ground. Roots explode upward. They reach the altar. He almost touches it, but it burns away in smoke.
——————————————————————
The Reaper lunges again. I stop dodging. I step forward. It swipes—I grab its wrist. Fire explodes up my arm. It's wild and unstable. A scream builds in my throat. But I don't let go. I stare into its mask. And I scream into its breath.
"I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!"
The Reaper snarls—its breath stutters. But in my head, the voice laughs.
"Good. You're almost ready."
The Reaper jerks its arm back, trying to tear free, but I don't let go. My fingers lock around its twisted wrist, and my fire catches.
Not just heat—rage.
It burns through my veins, wild and bitter, like I've swallowed a star. My arm begins to glow crimson violet beneath the skin, the fire wanting more.
"You want to see me break?"
The Reaper slashes again—fast, almost erratic. I duck low and drive my fist into its ribs—the mask jerks. Smoke pours out in a scream that doesn't belong to any living thing. But I feel it—the tether.
Between me and it.
Between my anger and its breath.
Between Fire and Wrath.
"Yes..."
The voice coils inside my head like smoke down my spine.
"Stop holding back."
I raise my hand. Flames burst across my back and shoulders; for a moment, they're not violent. They're black. Tainted at the edges. The Reaper steps back. Shaking, but not defeated. It's Afraid.
"You're not the worst thing in me." I roar.
——————————————————————
Adrien slams his hand into the dirt again—his jaw clenched.
"We can't get through—nothing sticks." Amber blurted.
"Then we don't go through. We go under." Cyril suggests coldly. He pulls a burst crystal from his belt. The crystal is unstable and volatile.
"This won't destroy the dome but destabilize the ground beneath it. Might weaken the anchor points."
Adrien babbles. "If we root the blast zone and pull at the fracture lines, we might—"
"Do it!" Sera snaps.
Amber backs up, drawing her weapon. "If anything gets through when that pops, I've got it."
——————————————————————
I shove the Reaper again—it crashes into the stone altar, shattering part of it. Its mask is cracked. Again. But not from me. From what I represent. I feel fire licking my face now. My shoulders burn. My eyes sting, but the voice keeps pulling.
"You could end it right now. You could become something more than afraid."
I stagger forward. My hands glow like molten blades. The Reaper rises—barely. It doesn't run. It waits.
"Just say yes."
——————————————————————
Cyril hurls the charge. Adrien slams his roots into the ground as the device sinks and detonates.
BOOM.
The Earth cracks. Smoke billows. Roots seize the edges of the altar barrier and pull. The dome flickers. Sparks fly—the light fractures.
——————————————————————
I raise my arm one last time when the world shakes. A pulse of force tears through the space. The Reaper stumbles. The barrier collapses behind me—the voices vanish. The flame around me dims. And I see the others running toward me, calling my name. The Reaper looks at me one last time. Then, it vanishes in a spiral of black smoke.
I fell to my knees.
Burned. Breathing.
Still me.
Barely...