Don's eyes snapped open to the cold embrace of stone beneath his body. His breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed himself upright, every muscle screaming in protest. The air was thick, suffocating, carrying the stench of decay and something far worse—something ancient and malevolent.
He stood in a chamber carved from obsidian-like rock, the walls pulsing with veins of sickly green light that seemed almost alive. Before him loomed a massive black stone tablet, easily three times his height, covered in symbols that writhed and shifted like living serpents.
[Oh, how delicious! A new playground for us, little seed~]
The voice slithered through his mind like oil, and Don's jaw clenched. Madness. Always there, always whispering, always waiting for a moment of weakness to seize control.
"Shut up," Don muttered through gritted teeth.
[But Don, don't you feel it? This place… it REEKS of death and despair. Let me out. Let me PLAY. I promise I'll make it worth your while~]
Don's hand instinctively moved to his blade as he approached the tablet, trying to ignore the insidious voice. The symbols meant nothing to him—alien, ancient, wrong in a way that made his eyes ache just looking at them.
Then the System materialized before him with a harsh digital screech.
[TRANSLATING ABYSS SCRIPT…]
The symbols on the tablet began to glow, their meaning burning into Don's mind like hot iron:
RULES OF THE ABYSS
1. There are NO allies in the Abyss. Everyone is your enemy.
2. If you die in the Abyss, you become part of it forever.
3. No matter what happens—if the Abyss looks at you, DO NOT look back. If it speaks to you, DO NOT answer.
This last line was carved deeper than the others, etched with what looked like claw marks, as if written in absolute terror.
4. Time in the Abyss flows differently. One minute in any world equals one day in the Abyss.
5. Do not wait for rescue. You are in the Abyss now.
6. What enters the Abyss belongs to the Abyss. All who dwell here do not know they are in the Abyss.
[OHHH! These are WONDERFUL rules! Especially that third one. The Abyss sounds like my kind of entity. What do you think it looks like, little seed? Does it have eyes? A mouth? Does it HUNGER like I do?]
Don felt his blood run cold. The words seemed to seep into his bones, carrying a weight that transcended mere warning. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the third rule again.
"One minute outside equals one day here…" he whispered, the realization hitting him like a hammer. "If only a single hour passes in the real world, I'll have been trapped here for two months."
[Time is such a fickle thing, isn't it? But think of the opportunities! So much time to KILL, to DESTROY, to let me—]
"I said shut up."
The tablet's surface rippled like black water, the text shifting and reforming:
YOUR TRIAL BEGINS
You will be tested in 6 locations. Each location contains a Ruler and their followers. You must survive. You must kill them all. Success will bring special rewards.
LOCATION ONE: THE GOBLIN KINGDOM
OBJECTIVES:
• 100 Common Goblin heads
• 500 Common Goblin heads + 100 Shaman heads
• 1,000 Common Goblin heads + 500 Shaman heads + General Goblin head
• Kill all 6 Generals + Kill the Goblin Sovereign
Rewards scale with performance.
Kingdom history will be displayed before trial begins.
YOUR TRIAL HAS COMMENCED
[INITIATING MEMORY TRANSFER]
Before Don could process what was happening, the tablet exploded into black light. The ethereal energy shot forward like a spear, piercing directly into his skull.
"AAARGH!"
Don collapsed to his knees, hands clutching his head as information flooded his mind—not gently, but like daggers of ice carving themselves into his brain.
[YES! YES! THIS IS WONDERFUL! Can you feel it, little seed? The PAIN! The SUFFERING! This is—]
Even Madness went silent as the visions consumed them both.
THE HISTORY OF THE FALLEN KINGDOM
He saw a kingdom of humans—beautiful, prosperous, with white stone towers reaching toward blue skies. The Kingdom of Valdris, they called it. Farmers in golden fields. Children laughing in cobblestone streets. Knights in silver armor standing proud on castle walls.
Then came the darkness.
A portal, torn open in the heart of the kingdom. From it poured a tide of green flesh and gnashing teeth—goblins, thousands upon thousands of them, more than anyone had ever seen. But these weren't the weak, cowardly creatures of legend.
These were organized. Brutal. Efficient.
Don watched through the eyes of the dying as goblin hordes overwhelmed the knights. He felt the terror of civilians as shamans called down dark fire that melted stone and flesh alike. He heard the screams of women and children dragged into the streets.
A young girl, no more than seven, running from a pack of goblins. She tripped. They fell upon her like rabid dogs.
An old knight, surrounded by bodies of his fallen brothers, fighting until his arms were hacked off, still trying to bite his enemies as they tore him apart.
A mother clutching her infant, throwing herself from the castle walls rather than let the goblins take them alive.
The Goblin Sovereign, a massive creature standing seven feet tall with four arms and eyes that glowed like coals, led the slaughter personally. He tore through the King's Guard with his bare hands, ripping men in half and drinking their blood while they still lived.
Don watched the King of Valdris—a good man, a just ruler—dragged before the Sovereign. They forced him to watch as they butchered his wife, his children, his entire bloodline. Then they melted down his crown and forced the molten gold down his throat while he was still alive.
The visions grew darker.
Goblin shamans performed rituals in the castle throne room, sacrificing hundreds of humans to whatever dark god they served. They didn't just kill—they experimented.
They flayed people alive to see how long they'd survive. They bred humans like cattle, keeping the survivors in cages for food and sport.
The streets ran red for days. Bodies were piled so high they blocked the sun. And when the killing was done, the goblins made the ruins their home.
They nested in the castle. They bred in the crypts. They turned the Kingdom of Valdris into a festering wound on the world.
That was 200 years ago.
Now, nothing remained but bones and the twisted creatures that fed on the memory of human suffering.
[Oh… oh my… little seed, that was BEAUTIFUL. The artistry! The creativity! Maybe these goblins and I have more in common than I thought~]