A few days before the initial stages of the Domain War.
Two young women walked through the narrow, suffocating halls of the Nameless Temple. They were mirror images of one another, identical pale faces, sharp features, and onyx eyes.
One carried a lantern, its cold white light spilling across the cracked stone. It was a necessity; the younger Rain did not yet bear the Mark of Shadows, and to her, this darkness was not a welcoming embrace, but a blinding veil.
Rain glanced at her younger self, her expression unreadable.
The younger Rain kept casting furtive glances at the walls, the ceiling, the shifting shadows, at everything. It made sense. She had arrived in the Dream Realm only recently, and now, here she was.
Standing in a Death Zone.
Walking atop the skeleton of a dead deity.
Surrounded by a fragment of the Realm of Death.
Escorted by a version of herself from the future.
Rain suppressed a sigh, tightening her grip on the lantern handle. When she thought about it too hard, the situation was so absurd that her mind threatened to stall and reboot every few steps.
If someone had told the old her, the girl who worried about school grades and dinner recipes, that one day she would be strolling through an ancient temple in a dead god's remains with her future self as a guide, she would have laughed in their face. Then she would have called a doctor.
Now, she just felt dizzy.
She shot a sideways glance at her younger self. 'How quickly everything changed after meeting him,' she thought.
As they walked deeper into the darkness, questioning their life choices with every step, they eventually arrived at a narrow corridor lined with iron bars.
Prison cells.
The air here was colder, heavy with silence. Young Rain glanced at the rusted bars with wide, astonished eyes.
"What do you think he used to imprison here?" she whispered, her voice echoing too loudly in the quiet.
Rain hesitated. She looked at the empty cells, sensing the residual dread that clung to the stone.
"I don't know," she replied honestly. Then, after a moment of heavy silence, she added, "I heard once... he trapped a Cursed Demon. But I don't think it's here."
Young Rain's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. "C-Cursed Demon...?!"
As if hearing their conversation, a voice drifted from the absolute darkness ahead.
It was a melodious sound, soft and pleasant, yet it somehow managed to slide over their skin like a cold blade.
Both Rains froze instantly, their hearts hammering against their ribs like caged beasts. It said:
"Ah. Visitors. How delightful."
Rain shielded her younger self. The lantern swayed, casting wild, dancing shadows against the bars.
"Who goes there?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite her best effort to keep it steady.
The voice sighed, a sound like silk sliding over stone.
"Ah, my apologies if I startled you. It's been a while since I saw someone... I got excited."
Rain thrust the lantern forward, forcing a sliver of darkness to retreat. The light flickered over the iron bars, revealing a vague, slender figure sitting in the gloom beyond.
The figure moved slightly, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness, and spoke in an excited tone.
"It is so rare to have guests in this dreadful place," the voice continued, its tone light and conversational. "Especially guests as... unique as you two."
Rain took a step back, instinctively pushing her younger self further behind her. Her hand clenched.
"Show yourself!" Rain commanded, though she hated how brittle the authority in her voice sounded against the weight of his presence.
"I am afraid I cannot," the voice replied, sounding genuinely regretful.
Rain frowned, her nerves fraying. "Why?"
The figure laughed, a pleasant, melodic sound that echoed softly in the corridor.
"Because I am in a cell, of course."
Rain blinked. She looked at the heavy iron bars, then at the figure trapped behind them, and felt a sudden, hot flush of embarrassment climb her neck.
"Ah," she coughed, lowering her sword slightly. "Of course."
A beat of silence passed. The figure seemed to be studying them, his form leaning closer to the light. When he spoke again, his voice was keen, vibrating with a strange, hungry excitement.
"Tell me... are you sisters? Twins?"
Rain opened her mouth to answer, but paused.
"No..." the voice mused, answering its own question before she could speak. The tone shifted, becoming fascinated.
"Reflections?" the voice whispered, sounding delighted. "One existing in the now, and one... displaced. How fascinating. I have always had a fondness for reflections."
The vague figure shifted, gripping the bars with long, pale fingers. His expression, though shadowed, seemed to soften, becoming almost hopeful.
"Since you're here... would you mind staying for a little while? Just to talk?"
His fingers curled tighter around the cold iron, and for a moment, the runic cuff on his wrist glinted in the lantern light.
"It has been so terribly quiet," he murmured, his voice dipping into melancholy. "That man... he left me here. He said he would come back, but there has been no word ever since. It is quite rude, don't you think?"
He tilted his head, his hidden eyes fixing on Rain with sudden intensity.
"Now that I get a closer look," he said, his voice laced with curiosity, "you look somewhat similar to him."
Young Rain whimpered, gripping the back of Rain's tunic. "Rain... let's go. Please."
Rain nodded stiffly, not daring to take her eyes off the darkness. "We are leaving."
"Oh..." The soft disappointment in the man's voice made both of them freeze. "I understand," he said gently. "If I were you, I'd run as well."
Rain hesitated. Her younger self looked at her with glistening eyes. "We should stay. He seems friendly."
Rain closed her eyes for a brief moment.
Friendly was not a word that belonged anywhere near a prison beneath the Nameless Temple. And yet...
She exhaled slowly.
"Alright," she said at last. "But we're not handling this alone."
She straightened, her expression turning decisive. "We'll call Effie. She'll know what to do."
A few minutes later, the air in the dungeon grew significantly heavier.
Three figures stood before the cell, their presence filling the narrow space with an aura of lethal competence. Effie, towering and imposing; Jet, cold and sharp as a scalpel; and Kai, whose flawless face held a frown of deep confusion.
The man inside the cell leaned forward, his smile wide and unmistakably delighted.
"Oh! Even more visitors!" he exclaimed. "Today is officially the best day I've had in... well, ever."
Kai studied the prisoner, then glanced at the cuffs binding him. "Sunny trapped him here?" Kai asked, disbelief coloring his tone. "The Prince of Nothing? How?"
The prisoner blushed. "Prince of Nothing... is that what you call me here?" He paused for a moment, thinking. "As for trapping me here... I believe so."
Effie snorted. "You believe so?"
He nodded earnestly. "He said something about enchantments. And anchors. And 'layers.' Safe to say... I did not understand most of it."
The man's gaze suddenly shifted, locking onto Effie. His eyes widened.
"...Athena."
Effie blinked. "What?"
He clasped his hands together, beaming. "What a pleasure to finally meet you! I've heard so much. Would you mind giving me an autograph?"
Jet slowly turned her head. "...An autograph? Why would you need that?"
"Yes," the man said cheerfully. "Why wouldn't I want one? You're a famous athlete. Big fan."
A spark of understanding lit up Effie's eyes.
"Oh," she muttered, crossing her arms. "I get it now."
Kai looked at her. "Get what?"
"This isn't the Prince of Nothing," Effie said, gesturing at the cell. "This is his Flaw."
Kai and Jet blinked. "His Flaw?"
Effie grimaced. "Mordret's flaw. The other half. The one that isn't a complete nightmare."
Jet and Kai both turned toward the cell, their eyes sharpening instantly.
"If that's true..." Jet said carefully, "...then killing him would..."
"...kill the other one," Kai finished.
The air grew cold.
Inside the cell, the man's smile vanished.
"Ah," he said weakly. "...Could we maybe not talk about killing me so casually?"
He took a step back, pressing himself against the far wall, eyes wide with genuine fear.
"I'm quite fond of being alive," he added quickly. "Very attached to it, actually."
Effie scratched her cheek. "Relax. We're not doing anything yet."
She smiled as she added, "You won't be getting out of there, though."
****
Anvil of Valor gazed down at the carnage below with cold indifference. The death of thousands was nothing more to him than sparks flying from a forge, fleeting, and ultimately inconsequential. Yet, a subtle, chilling smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
He lifted his gaze, his crimson eyes locking onto the distant camp of the Song army. Across the miles of blood-soaked earth, he felt a gaze pressing back.
Anvil took a single step forward.
In an instant, his figure blurred, exploding into a meteor of crimson fire. He tore through the sky at a terrifying speed, aimed at the distant camp. Below, soldiers staggered some collapsed and died due to the shockwave.
He closed the distance in a heartbeat.
But before he could teach the camp, the air in front of him rippled.A figure appeared before him, a woman draped in a dress of spilling blood.
Anvil came to a sudden, absolute halt. From supersonic speed to perfect stillness in a fraction of a second. The physics of the world screamed in protest, the wind howling around them, but the two Sovereigns hovered at the center of the storm, perfectly calm.
The beautiful woman glanced at him with a curious, almost mocking expression. Her skin was porcelain pale, her beauty flawless and disturbing.
"My, you certainly are in a rush, Vale," Ki Song hummed, her voice cutting through the roaring wind. "Did you miss me that much?"
Anvil smiled coldly. "I am eager to end you."
He paused, his gaze burning with naked ambition. "Your Domain will be mine. And with it, my dream will finally be realized."
With that, scarlet sparks coalesced around his hands, forming a massive broadsword.
Ki Song's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could though, Anvil swung.
It was a blur of motion. Song reeled back, barely evading a lethal strike to cut her in half. Instead, the blade sheared through her shoulder. Her arm fell away, crimson blood spraying into the wind.
Song scowled, as she did.
A colossal rift tore open behind her, revealing a palace of black jade looming in the darkness. From its cavernous halls, thousands of figures rushed onto the bone plain. Colossal titans stepped through, sending tremors across the battlefield. Below, soldiers scrambled for shelter, but hundreds were crushed instantly under the weight of the giants.
Behind Anvil, the sky ignited. Crimson sparks hovered, condensing into a myriad of swords . Thousands of swords , arranged themselves into an intricate pattern as they manifested.
Ki Song ignored the pain. A pitch-black limb erupted from the bloody stump of her shoulder. Far away, a puppet collapsed, losing its arm in her place. The black limb on her body solidified, turning into pale porcelain skin. In a second, it was as if she had never been wounded.
As soon as it did she vanished.
An instant later, she appeared directly before Anvil.
Her hands shot forward in a blur, the strike detonating into a shockwave that tore the air open. Anvil slipped to the side, hovering effortlessly as the blast ripped past him. Even so, the force shoved him backward, dragging a long streak of distorted wind behind his body.
Seven dreadful swords shimmered into existence around him, orbiting like hungry stars.
Ki Song flickered then reappeared right before him again.
Her hands lashed out.
This time, the seven swords snapped into formation, locking together into a radiant, jagged shield. Her fist slammed into it, releasing a wave of scorching heat that washed over the entire battlefield. The air ignited in a brief, blinding flash, soldiers far below screaming as the sky itself seemed to burn.
But her attack didn't end there.
Her fist melted-into a pool of blood that seeped through the spaces between the swords. The fluid shot forward, condensing into a razor-sharp crimson spike aimed straight for Anvil's heart.
Anvil brought his sacred sword down, shattering the crimson spike instantly. The seven floating blades surged forward, slamming into Song with the force of battering rams, forcing her to retreat.
She stabilized herself in the air and smiled coldly.
Below, the battlefield screamed.
Thousands of puppets convulsed as their bodies were torn apart by an invisible will. Flesh ripped away from bone, and blood was brutally separated from the meat.
The mass of stripped flesh shot skyward, condensing into a titanic spike . It crashed into the sky behind Anvil, smashing through the intricate pattern and scattering his summoned swords.
At the same time, a river of blood , rushed toward Anvil , threatening to drown him .
Before the river of blood could swallow him, thousands of swords appeared behind Anvil. He raised his sacred blade in a slash, and the legion of steel mirrored his movement.
The air shrieked. The combined force of the strike evaporated the blood , turning it into a hiss of crimson steam.
"It is time you get serious," Anvil said, his voice cold and devoid of patience. "Or your death will be pitiful."
Ki Song tilted her head, wiping a speck of blood from her cheek. Her smile widened, splitting her face in a way that looked unnatural, too wide for a human skull.
"You are right, Vale," Ki Song whispered, her voice resonating inside his skull. "It is time."
With that.
Her body dissolved into a heap of writhing flesh. At the same time, the colossal spike of meat that Anvil had shattered began to convulse. it bloomed.
Like a grotesque flower opening in fast-forward, the flesh of thousands of puppets exploded outward. It swallowed the sky, weaving together to form a pulsating, living sphere-a gruesome labyrinth of flesh.
Anvil was swallowed whole.
Inside, the air turned thick and viscous, smelling of ancient decay. The walls beat like a heart. Suddenly, a myriad of eyes opened across the fleshy surface, staring at him with collective malice. Thousands of arms erupted from the walls, elongated and skeletal, grasping for him.
Anvil looked around, a look of cold dismay on his face.
"Disgusting," he muttered.
He raised a finger. The thousands of swords hovering around him spun into a frenzy, revolving like a whirlwind of steel. They shredded the grasping limbs, turning the air into a mist of gore.
But the labyrinth did not falter. Blood started rushing from the orifices of the walls, flooding the chamber, rising to drown him.
Anvil narrowed his eyes. He raised his sacred sword, intending to end this mockery with a single strike. He poured his Will into the blade, targeting the logic of the labyrinth itself.
He swung, unleashing a slash capable of cutting through space.
But Ki Song's Will clamped down on the chamber. The space inside the labyrinth twisted, folding in on itself like a loop. The concept of "outward" was erased.
Anvil stiffened.
The slash did not hit the walls. Instead, a deep, jagged gash instantly opened across his own chest, sparks flying as his armor was sheared open by his own power.
Anvil reeled back, blood leaking from the wound.
"Futile," Song's voice echoed inside the labyrinth,cold and insidious "all directions lead to the heart. And you are the heart."
The pool of blood beneath him surged upward, hissing as it touched his boots, sniffing out his Will, threatening to extinguish the light of his soul and digest him alive.
Anvil eyes narrowed, raising his sword again, before he could do anything.
The world went white.A pillar of white fire descended from the heavens, piercing the roof of the flesh labyrinth.
""""""
Authors note:
I've been a bit occupied these past couple of weeks, and it looks like that will continue until at least Christmas. Because of that, updates may be scarce for a while.
That said… a lot of comments might just inspire me to write anyway. Next chapter is a lot tricky to write, but I promise you'll get your answers, until then...