His muscles locked. His breath stopped.
His right eye—the yellow one touched by Madness—ignited with blazing light that burned like twin suns.
Both eyes now. Both yellow. Both burning.
Don's mouth opened wider, but the voice that came out wasn't his.
It was rage incarnate.
"NO!"
The word erupted from Don's throat with such fury that the void itself trembled. The nothingness rippled like disturbed water, waves of distortion spreading outward from his floating form.
Madness had seized control.
"STOP MAKING THIS HARDER! HE IS MINE!"
The voice roared through Don's mouth, using his lungs, his vocal cords, but the sound was wrong—layered, echoing, carrying the weight of something ancient and terrible.
"ALL OF YOU—YOU SIX FOOLS—STOP THIS NOW! I ARRIVED FIRST! HE. IS. MINE!"
The massive eyes watching from the void didn't blink. Didn't react. Just stared with that same analytical calm.
Then, the voice responded.
Cool. Unbothered. Almost… amused.
[NO. YOU DIDN'T.]
A pause.
[HE IS NOT YOURS.]
And then—laughter.
Not cruel. Not mocking. Just genuine amusement, like someone watching a child throw a tantrum over a toy they never owned.
[AND NOW… GET OUT.]
The voice's tone shifted, becoming firmer but still carrying that thread of amusement.
[YOU WEREN'T EVEN INVITED TO THIS. BUT I MUST ADMIT—I DO ENJOY SEEING YOU ANGRY.]
Madness's fury exploded.
Don's body convulsed, his back arching, his hands clawing at nothing as the entity inside him screamed with all the rage of something that had once been the fastest, the strongest, the most feared—
And was now reduced to fighting for scraps.
"VOID!"
The name tore from Don's throat like a curse,
like a prayer, like a declaration of war.
"VOOOOID!"
The scream echoed through the emptiness, carrying with it two hundred thousand years of fury, of loss, of desperate hunger that would never be satisfied.
The massive eyes simply watched.
Calm.
Patient.
Unmoved.
[Goodbye, brother.]
The word 'brother' carried no warmth. No affection. Just cold acknowledgment of what once was.
Then the eyes shifted—turned away from Madness entirely—and focused on Don.
On the consciousness trapped inside the hijacked body, watching, unable to move or speak.
[THE CHOICE WAS MADE THE MOMENT YOU DIDN'T REFUSE.]
The voice was quieter now. Directed at Don alone.
[YOU HESITATED. YOU CONSIDERED. YOU WEIGHED THE RISK.]
[BUT YOU DID NOT SAY NO.]
[THAT IS ACCEPTANCE ENOUGH.]
The colors in those impossible eyes swirled faster, and Don felt something change deep within his soul—like a door unlocking, a seal breaking, a path opening where none had existed before.
[WELCOME TO THE ABYSS, DON VALDRUUN.]
[WHEN YOU ARE READY—WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO FACE WHAT WAITS WITHIN—IT WILL BE WAITING.]
[BUT KNOW THIS:]
The voice grew heavier, weighted with absolute truth.
[ONCE YOU ENTER, THERE IS NO RETREAT. NO SURRENDER. ONLY VICTORY OR DEATH.]
[CHOOSE WISELY WHEN THAT MOMENT COMES.]
And then—
The void pulled.
Don felt it like a hand grabbing his entire existence and yanking—
Everything went black.
Don's eyes snapped open.
He gasped—a desperate, drowning sound—and sat bolt upright.
Gray leaves above him. Rough bark against his back. The soft sounds of—
Wait.
Don's head whipped around.
Everyone was still asleep.
The survivors clustered together in their corner of the clearing, breathing slowly, deeply. Martha's scarred face relaxed in rare peace. Tam curled into himself like a child. The Wraith motionless as a statue.
Diana's team scattered around the perimeter—Thorne and Sylva on watch at opposite ends of the clearing, but both had their backs turned, focused outward on the forest's threats, not inward at the camp.
The sky beyond the gray canopy was lightening. Not bright yet—not full dawn—but that pre-dawn gray where night hadn't quite surrendered to day.
Don was the only one awake.
His heart hammered. Sweat soaked through his shirt, cold against his skin. His hands trembled.
Both eyes burned—his right yellow as always, but his left felt strange. Hot. Wrong. Like something had tried to reach through it and failed.
A warmth pulsed in his chest. Familiar. Gentle.
Relief flooded through him so intensely his eyes stung.
[You received your reward.The opportunity promised.The result of your completed quest]
Don's hands clenched into fists against his knees. "That wasn't a reward. That was—that thing inside me took control. Madness. He screamed at—at something called Void. Called him brother. Said there were six others. What—"
[Peace. I cannot explain what you encountered. That place is beyond my reach. Those entities are beyond my knowledge. What transpired there was between you and forces I do not fully understand.]
Don's jaw tightened. "Then what can you tell me?"
A pause.
When the presence spoke again, there was something in its warmth—something that might have been pride, or satisfaction, or relief.
[ Ican tell you this: Luck has truly smiled upon you.]
Don stared at nothing, processing that.
"Luck," he repeated flatly. "I was pulled into a void, offered something called the Abyss that could actually kill me permanently, had Madness hijack my body to scream at cosmic entities, and you're telling me I was lucky?"
[Yes.]
The simple certainty made Don pause.
[The Abyss is not a reward most would receive. It is not something that appears for just anyone. You were chosen by forces that see something in you worth investing in.]
"Or something worth consuming," Don muttered.
[Perhaps.]
[ But that is true of all power. All growth. All advancement. The question is not whether there is risk—there is always risk. The question is whether you are strong enough to seize what is offered and make it yours.]
Don sat in silence for a long moment, listening to the soft sounds of sleeping survivors, watching the sky lighten degree by degree beyond the gray leaves.
"Status Screen," he said quietly.
The display appeared, hovering in his vision.
╔═══════════════════════════╗
STATUS SCREEN
╚═══════════════════════════╝
Name: Don Valdruun• Age: 12• Health (HP): {10/-}• Mana (MP): {350/850}• Stamina (STA): {18/24}• Experience (EXP): {150/500}• Affiliation: ??????• Level: 3• Status Points: 10• Madness: 18%
— ATTRIBUTES —
• Strength: 16• Agility: 21• Vitality: 16• Dexterity: 16• Stamina: 16• Wisdom: 19• Magic Power: 19• Intelligence: 19• Sense: 5• Luck: 50
— TITLES & TALENTS —
• Title: Survivor of Death's Deceit
• Talent: Child of Luck - ACTIVE
Luck +45
• Talent: #%#%#%%
— SKILLS —
• Skill 1: Immortality (Lv. 3)
Sub-Skill: Emotion Suppression (Lv. 3)
• Skill 2: Learning and Adaptation (Lv. 3)
Passive: Adept Mastery
Current Masteries: Knife (Adept), Sword (Adept)
• Skill 3: Imagination (Lv. 3)
Sub-Skill: Primitive Weapon Crafting (Lv. 3)
— QUEST STATUS —
• Primary Quest: Survive for 12 hours - COMPLETED
• Reward: Delivered
— ABYSS STATUS —
• Stage: 0/???
• Progress: Locked
• Entry: Available
[WARNING: DEATH INSIDE THE ABYSS IS PERMANENT]
[IMMORTALITY DOES NOT FUNCTION WITHIN THE ABYSS]
[ENTER ONLY WHEN PREPARED]
╚═══════════════════════════╝
Don stared at the new section at the bottom of his status screen.
ABYSS STATUS.
Stage 0.
Entry Available.
And that warning, stark and uncompromising:
DEATH INSIDE THE ABYSS IS PERMANENT.
His throat felt dry.
"So it's real," Don whispered. "It actually happened. It's inside my storage space now."
[Yes.]
[The Abyss has been integrated into your Imagination skill's storage dimension. It exists there now, waiting. You may enter whenever you choose—but once you do, you must complete the stage or die trying.]
"And if I die in there?"
[Then you die permanently. No underworld. No meeting with Death. No second chances. The Abyss consumes everything—even souls.]
Don's hands trembled slightly. He clenched them into fists to stop the shaking.
"What if I just… don't enter? What if I leave it alone?"
[That is your choice to make.]
[The Abyss will wait. It is patient. But know this: the power it offers is unlike anything else. The growth potential, the abilities, the servants you could gain—they could change everything for you.]
Don closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
"No pressure, then."
[None at all.]
[Rest. Dawn is coming. You will need your strength for what lies ahead.]
"The invasion," Don said quietly. "Torkh's mobilizing his forces. The entire continent."
[Yes.]
[And you will need to decide soon—stay with Diana's group, or forge your own path. But that decision can wait until you've rested properly.]
The warmth began to fade, slowly, gently.
Don opened his eyes, staring at his status screen one more time.
At the Abyss section glowing softly at the bottom.
At the warning about permanent death.
At the promise of power beyond measure.
He dismissed the screen with a thought.
The sky was lighter now. Proper dawn
approaching. Soon the others would wake. Soon they'd need to plan their next move, decide where to go, how to survive in a continent being overrun by demons.
But for now, for just a few more minutes, Don sat in the pre-dawn gray and thought about choices.
About power and risk.
About what he was willing to sacrifice for strength.
About whether he was brave enough—or desperate enough—to step into the Abyss.
He didn't have an answer yet.
But he knew, with absolute certainty, that the choice would come soon.
The Abyss was waiting.
And it would not wait forever.