Betrayal has an echo, and death has a weight. In the bleeding dark of the abyss, a broken man faces the ultimate judgment.
The Echo of Betrayal
Kael fled through the darkness. His lungs screamed for air, a desperate hunger that tore at his chest. Every step was a plea, a rhythmic drumming against the cold, damp stone. The straps of his pack sawed into his shoulders. He welcomed the physical pain. It was a crutch against the corrosive terror that fueled his sprint.
Total silence reigned behind him. This heavy, meaningful silence felt far worse than the sounds of battle. Damien, Elena, Marcus, Lysa—the Valenhall team was gone. He was the sole survivor. He was the group's refuse, the one least worthy of carrying the burden of life.
They are dead. And I am still breathing, he thought, a bitter taste filling his mouth. As long as air goes in and out, it is a victory. That is all that matters.
Bioluminescent mushrooms provided a sickly, greenish light. It was just enough to distinguish the shifting shapes of the gloom. The air was thick and damp, clinging to his skin like a second layer. Drops fell from the invisible ceiling. Their hypnotic rhythm sounded the death knell of his urgency.
He collapsed against a wall. Exhaustion finally triumphed over adrenaline. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The silence returned, more threatening than ever, until his ears caught a sound. It was a low growl, a rumble rising slowly from the depths. It was the sound of a predator that no longer felt the need to hide.
Kael froze. He swept his gaze through the darkness, searching for the source, but found only ink. Then, two points ignited. Icy blue orbs.
The White Wolf.
The Ritual of the Hunt
The creature tore through the shadows with impossible speed. It was a bolt of muscle and pristine fur. Kael barely had time to raise his arms before the wolf's weight slammed into him. The impact lifted him and threw him against the rock. His skull cracked against the stone, and his vision filled with sparks.
Before nausea could overwhelm him, the wolf's claws raked his chest. Four furrows of incandescent pain opened up. His reinforced uniform fell away in shreds. Blood erupted, warm and sticky, soaking his torso.
Kael did not cry out. He screamed. It was a sound from an era when man was nothing but prey.
He rolled to the side. Fangs snapped at thin air near his throat. Instinctively, his blood-slicked fingers gripped the pommel of the rusted sword—the pathetic weapon Damien had tossed to him.
He unsheathed it clumsily. The wolf circled him with feline grace. Its blue eyes never blinked. It radiated a cold intelligence. This was no simple animal. It was an executioner.
"Stay... stay back," Kael wheezed, his voice trembling.
The wolf tilted its head. Kael was certain he saw mockery in the gesture. It lunged.
Time slowed down. Kael raised the sword, but the gesture was futile. The fangs clamped down on his forearm with a sinister crack of breaking bone. The pain was a supernova. It was blinding and absolute. The wolf shook its head, and Kael felt his bones pulverize. He struck the beast's snout with his free hand, a messy blow that only irritated it. The rusted sword slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor.
His strength failed him. His vision tunneled as the darkness gained ground. The wolf released its grip. Kael collapsed, his arm hanging at an impossible angle. Blood already formed a thick pool. The beast stepped back, its muscles tensing for the killing blow.
No... not like this... Liam...
The wolf pounced.
The Red-Eyed Judge
Before the fangs could reach his throat, a titanic black claw erupted from the shadows behind Kael. It was covered in scales that seemed to drink the light.
In the eerie silence that followed, Kael saw the claw pierce the White Wolf's flank in mid-air. The tip emerged from the other side in an explosion of blood and viscera. The wolf was pinned to the wall, its paws scratching feebly at the air. A pathetic whimper escaped it, then silence. The blue eyes went dark.
Kael's blood ran colder than any wound could make it. He slowly turned his head.
The dragon filled the tunnel. Its black scales absorbed the dim light of the mushrooms, creating a walking void. Its folded wings scraped against the walls. But its eyes held his attention: two deep red orbs, like liquid rubies filled with antediluvian wisdom. The left eye, which Kael had seen blinded earlier, now shone as bright as its twin.
The dragon lowered its massive head. It exhaled a warm, sulfurous breath that swept over the young man's face. Then, a soothing green aura emanated from its body. It enveloped Kael. The sensation was one of miraculous healing. The tears in his chest closed. The broken bone in his arm snapped back into place. Within seconds, all his injuries—even the oldest ones—vanished.
Kael remained paralyzed by pure terror.
The dragon's voice echoed, as deep as the grinding of tectonic plates. "Tell me, little human, why did you run?"
Kael blinked, dazed. "To... to live. It is the only victory that matters."
The dragon made a sound like distant laughter. "Interesting. Yet you abandoned your own."
Bitterness rose in Kael. "They treated me like trash. Their end is your gift. So... thank you."
The ruby gaze probed his soul, searching his memories and fears. Finally, the ancient being leaned closer. "Stand up."
Kael obeyed, trembling. "What pathetic thinness," the voice thundered. "You let yourself be bitten by a puppy."
"It was a giant wolf!"
"And I," the dragon said slowly, spreading its wings until they touched the walls, "what am I, in your opinion?"
"An anomaly. An S-rank dragon in an E-rank dungeon. It makes no sense."
The monster's eyes clouded over. "Because I am not a dragon. I was imprisoned in this form against my will. Corrupted. Turned into a guardian, a judge for a selection."
"What selection?"
"I do not know," it replied with immense sadness. "I am a piece on a chessboard whose dimensions I cannot see. And you are the last candidate on my list."
The dragon straightened up. "I see nothing special in you. You have neither talent nor potential. You are... pathetically ordinary."
Kael felt the danger. "My little brother. Liam. He is sick. Without me, he dies. That is why I crawl through the mud and blood."
"And how do you plan to protect him with such strength?" The dragon curled its lips, revealing fangs as long as swords. "Honestly, I have no desire to test you. You are an administrative chore I must settle before I can finally rest."
A low rumble rose from the depths. Soon, the ground vibrated. Eyes appeared in the darkness. Dozens. Hundreds. All of them blue. A living tide of White Wolves emerged, filling every corner of the tunnel.
"Hundreds of them!?" Kael yelled. "What kind of nightmare is this?!"
"I offer you a second chance, little human," the dragon said, his voice full of authority. "Change. Evolve. Become something more than this pathetic creature. Or die trying."
The dragon's body began to dissolve into wisps of black smoke. His red eyes were the last to disappear.
"I have finished my mission, candidate," his voice thundered, growing more distant. "The rest is up to you. Good luck."
He vanished. Kael was left alone and unarmed against a pack of three hundred hungry wolves.
The Hour of Judgment
The first wolf attacked, biting savagely into his calf. Kael screamed, collapsing to one knee. His hands searched desperately for a defense, but found only stone.
A second wolf lacerated his back. He rolled, trying to protect his vital organs. It was a fatal mistake. Three more lunged at his exposed limbs. One gripped his right arm, another his left hand, a third his thigh. Sinister cracks punctuated the pack's hunger.
Kael was no longer screaming. He was rattling. These were inhuman sounds of pure agony.
A wolf tore a piece from his shoulder. Another bit into his stomach. Blood sprayed like a fountain. His vision blurred, the world shrinking to fuzzy spots. He could no longer feel his limbs, only absolute pain.
"STOP!" he sobbed, his voice broken. "PLEASE! STOP!"
A wolf tore a piece from his cheek. Another drove its claws into his eye. Kael felt the gelatinous orb burst in his socket. He wept. Tears of blood flowed from his remaining eye. "Dad... Mom..." he whispered, his mind fragmenting. "It hurts... it hurts so much..."
The wolves suddenly backed away. They left Kael in a pool of his own blood and flesh. His body was dismembered. His bones were visible. His chest was perforated. Worse, he was still conscious.
Then, a notification appeared before his single eye:
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[YOU HAVE COMPLETED ALL CONDITIONS]
[ANALYSIS: SURVIVAL INSTINCT 100%]
[ANALYSIS: MENTAL RESILIENCE 98%]
[ANALYSIS: WILL TO LIVE 100%]
[CONCLUSION: CANDIDATE VALIDATED]
His mouth formed an inaudible word.
Accept...
[CONFIRMATION RECEIVED]
[INITIALIZATION IN PROGRESS]
[CELLULAR RECONSTRUCTION: 0%]
Kael's eyelids closed. His heart stopped. Complete and eternal silence fell over the tunnel. Kael Morse was dead.
And yet...
[CELLULAR RECONSTRUCTION: 1%]
In the absolute darkness, something began to glow.