The stairway of light wound downward like a spiral carved into infinity. Each step hummed under their boots, vibrating through marrow and mind alike. The air grew colder as they descended, yet their breath came heavy, as if the weight of the Citadel lingered above them, pressing
No one spoke for a long time. The silence stretched, filled only by the hollow rhythm of their footsteps. But in that silence, a question gnawed at all of them: How much deeper could the Helm take them?
Finally, Rina broke it.
"Anyone else feel like we're marching into the belly of some cosmic beast?" she muttered, twirling one dagger in her hand. Her tone was light, but her eyes darted nervously at the void surrounding the staircase.
"Better the belly of a beast than the stomach of the Citadel," Lys said dryly, adjusting the string of her bow. "At least beasts can be slain."
Carlos said nothing. His hand brushed the hilt of the Blade of Ascension with every step, fingers twitching as though reassuring himself it was still there. He couldn't shake the memory of the shadow-forged monster — and the Helm's words, echoing still in the back of his mind.
Unity forged. The path to Realm Three opens.
What awaited them below?
The last step dissolved beneath their feet, and suddenly there was no staircase — only ground, soft and wet.
Carlos staggered, the golden flame of his sword flickering to life, revealing their new surroundings.
They stood on a shore of black sand.
The sea stretched endless before them, its waters thick and dark as ink, reflecting no light. The air was heavy with salt and something stranger — a metallic tang that clung to the back of the throat.
Waves rolled in without sound, rising high and breaking low, yet never producing a splash. The silence was absolute, broken only by the crackle of Carlos's sword and the creak of Thalor's battered armor.
Behind them, the staircase of light was gone. Only the horizon remained — ocean before them, void behind.
Maren shivered, hugging her staff close. "Where are we?"
The Helm answered, though no voice came from above. Instead, the ocean itself seemed to whisper, its waters rippling with words.
"Realm Three: The Abyss of Forgotten Truths."
The sand quaked beneath their feet. Far out in the water, something stirred — a shadow larger than mountains, gliding silently beneath the surface.
Thalor took a step forward, his shield raised. "We must move. The shore is no place for defense."
Lys's eyes scanned the sea. "Move where? There's nothing here. No paths. No—"
She cut off as lights flickered far out on the water. Pale lanterns, glowing faintly, suspended in the mist. One, two, three… then dozens, scattered across the horizon.
Boats.
Or the illusion of them.
"Of course," Rina muttered. "Nothing says 'welcome to the next nightmare' like ghost ships."
Carlos's jaw tightened. "It's a trial. It has to be. We've faced the Citadel, faced ourselves… now it's something else."
Maren nodded slowly. "Forgotten truths. If this world is named for what's hidden… then those ships must carry what we're meant to uncover."
The ocean stirred again. This time, the shadow beneath broke the surface.
A fin — jagged, obsidian, taller than any tower — cut through the waves. The sea fell deathly still.
Then the fin sank, vanishing beneath the black water without a ripple.
The five of them froze.
"That's… bigger than any beast I've ever seen," Thalor said, his voice low.
Rina forced a laugh, though it cracked. "Great. We're not just in the belly of a cosmic beast. We're on the menu."
They didn't have long to decide.
The shore behind them began to crumble, black sand sliding into the water as if pulled by invisible hands.
"We move," Carlos said firmly. "Now."
The others didn't argue. They scrambled toward the nearest light — one of the drifting lanterns, swaying gently in the mist. As they drew closer, it revealed itself: a boat carved from bone, its sails ragged but glowing faintly. No oars. No crew.
"Anyone else feel like this thing's just waiting to swallow us?" Rina asked.
"Then let it," Thalor said, stepping aboard. "Better swallowed while moving forward than consumed while standing still."
Lys grunted. "You make it sound so inspiring."
Carlos helped Maren climb aboard, then followed, his sword casting a faint halo of gold against the pale lantern glow.
The moment they all stood inside, the boat lurched forward, cutting through the water silently, as if guided by unseen hands.
The farther they sailed, the colder the air became. The mist thickened until the sea and sky became one endless veil. Only the lantern on their prow remained visible.
Then came the whispers.
At first faint, like distant wind. Then louder, pressing into their ears. Words they half-recognized. Voices they had long buried.
Carlos stiffened as one voice cut sharper than the rest. His mother's. "You'll never be enough, Carlos. Not for me. Not for anyone."
He clenched his sword, his throat tight.
Lys staggered, clutching her chest. She heard the screams of her fallen kin, accusing her of abandoning them.
Rina pressed her hands to her ears, but the whispers crawled inside anyway. Every betrayal she had ever committed came back, each dagger she'd driven into a friend's back turned against her now.
Thalor knelt, teeth gritted, the voices of old comrades echoing: "You failed us. You left us to die."
Maren's staff shook in her grip, the whispers urging her to unleash the storm she'd only just learned to tame. "You are destruction. You cannot hide it. Let it consume them all."
The Abyss was not just sea. It was memory. It was judgment.
Carlos forced his voice out through the storm of whispers. "Don't listen! They're not truths—they're weapons!"
But even as he said it, doubt gnawed at him.
Because some part of him feared the whispers weren't lies at all.
The boat sailed deeper into the mist, the whispers growing louder, until their voices cracked under the weight of them.
And then, the mist parted.
A vast island loomed ahead, jagged and black, its cliffs carved into faces — endless, screaming faces. At its peak stood a fortress unlike the Citadel: twisted towers spiraling into the storm, windows glowing with pale light.
The Helm's voice whispered from the waves:
"The Abyss does not lie. Here, all truths forgotten must be faced. Step forward, or be devoured."
The boat scraped against the shore.
The five of them stood, weapons in hand, their faces pale but resolute.
Whatever waited in that fortress, it would not just test their unity. It would tear open every truth they had tried to bury.
And this time, the shadows would not come as enemies.They would come as themselves.