Climbing the long stairway, the two of us were leisurely taking in the view on either side.
This stairway connected the Abyssal Underprison to the surface, an arched bridge linking two realms.We were moving across it — or rather, floating. Souls could hover a few meters above the ground, but no higher.
We had to do this, of course. I wasn't about to pull that free-fall stunt again. Not this time.Even so, you still needed a steady mind; heights like these could twist your stomach even as a spirit.
Anyway, we were ascending from the surface toward the Abyssal Underprison, a place said to cage the most wretched souls — yet, paradoxically, it was the liveliest realm in all the underworld.The living and the dead mingled freely here, unbound by chains or kings.
Death itself was the shackle… and yet, also the only freedom — or so claimed the bastard walking behind me.
Now, we were finally close to leaving this place. But before that, there were still a few things I had to do.
At the stairway's end, we stepped into the vast prison city.Strolling along the long stone path, I ignored the curious stares.
According to the Wraith Guardian, the endless exposure to death-miasma had corroded most souls here.Their very essence had been stained with the scent of decay.Only a handful managed to preserve their "core truth" — to resist the rot.But after centuries… even they gave in, and melted into this half-life.
'It's not what I imagined,' I thought. When one hears "Abyssal Underprison," you picture torment, judgment — hell itself.Not… this.
'Forget it. I'm here now anyway.'
Ahead stood an ancient library.Thanks to what I'd remembered from the original novel, I already knew far too much — it was like having a cheat code.
Pulling on a black-and-crimson cloak, I reshaped my soul's appearance and slipped inside unnoticed.At the librarian's desk, I casually lifted a golden medal and walked away, ignoring the confused red-cloaked keeper — and my Wraith Guardian's side-eye.
Down a narrow alley, I knocked on a door: four light taps, three heavy.A red-cloaked figure opened it, and I stepped into a room filled with groups huddled around large tables.
This was a gathering of battle-hungry wraiths — those who fought to the death because death could no longer claim them.
"HEY!" I shouted, cutting through the noise.When all eyes turned to me, I held up the medal.
"I'M WAGERING THE MEDAL OF A GUARDIAN! WHO DARES TAKE IT?!"
The hall fell silent for a long moment.Then, a voice broke the stillness: calm, far too calm for a berserker.
"What do you want from us in return?"
"Just one favor," I grinned. I'd already won the first step.
"HELP ME FIND SOMETHING — THE BLACK KEY."
Murmurs rippled through the room. Some scoffed, some laughed, but none grew angry.
"I accept," a voice declared.
Heads turned as a tall red-cloaked figure stepped forward."The Black Key is rare… but I know where to find it. Come with me."
Indeed, the Black Key was almost mythical. Few even knew it existed.But to them — immortal wraiths with nothing to lose — my wager was worth far more.
The golden, diamond-studded medal I held was one of only three in existence.The fool of a librarian had been using it as decoration.
"So," the man asked, towering over me, "shall we fight here or outside?"
"Right now."
I smiled, pulling a white key from my sleeve — and plunged it straight into his skull.
…
In a damp, shadow-soaked shrine surrounded by a black lake, two figures moved beneath the ghost-blue flames.
"It's done, then?" the Wraith Guardian asked, eyes fixed on the two glowing keys in my hands.
"Yeah." My voice was curt.
He had spent thousands of years searching for them, hoping to escape this realm.And I — I had done it in mere hours. Even he could hardly believe it.
But he knew the truth: no matter what, he couldn't leave without my contract.Without it, the chains of this world would always drag him back.
"What will you do now? Don't you still have unfinished business here?"
He looked anxious. Now that both keys were in my hands, his impatience was palpable.
"Of course I do," I said. "But not yet. We'll return… in time."
I placed my hand on a massive stone before me, closing my eyes."There's still time left — but until then, I can't touch it."
The "stone" was in fact a fallen meteorite, revered here as a sacred relic.But I knew what it truly was.
The Descendant.
The name echoed from the novel's pages.
Approaching an ancient altar, I inserted both keys into the lock, turned them, and reclaimed them afterward.
Now, my original body had returned.I slipped the keys into the same backpack that once carried food — and a dozen painkillers, all long gone.
Looking at myself, I realized I'd achieved half of what I came for.The other half would have to wait.
I raised my gaze toward the city above, and finally asked the Guardian beside me:
"Hey… why are they imprisoned here?Why is that statue placed there?"
I pointed toward the nameless giant statue, its body wrapped in chains, eternally holding up the entire underprison.
Taking a cigarette from my pocket, I lit it, exhaling smoke into the dim void.
"…And those above — why were they condemned here, like you?"My eyes followed the statue as cracks began to form along its body.
The sound of breaking chains filled the silence.
RUMBLE.
The statue collapsed — and with it, the entire prison.We watched it fall, without a flicker of concern.
"Because," he said quietly,"for someone to be free… another must fall."
The lantern's flame flickered out.
Darkness devoured the world.Only the echo of a crumbling city remained.