And the void pulled her downward,
dragging her toward her next cursed life.
Alex opened her eyes to darkness.
Not the peaceful void.
Not the whispering abyss.
A room.
Cold stone walls.
Damp air.
A single lantern flickering weakly in the corner, casting jagged shadows across the floor.
She tried to move—
But pain exploded in her wrists and ankles.
"—agh!"
She looked down and saw thick ropes glowing faintly with blue runes.
Magical bindings.
Every time she pulled, they tightened—biting deep into flesh, carving through skin like serrated blades. Blood dripped from her wrists to the floor.
"What… now…"
Her voice was deeper than before. Rough. Mature.
She glanced down at herself, at the broad chest, muscular arms, heavy boots.
She was a man.
Again.
Older than any body she'd worn before.
"Great," she muttered internally.
"Forties. Strong. And still useless."
Before she could assess more—
the door slammed open.
Four men entered, laughing loudly. Their armor was dented, their breath stank of ale.
The first one grinned.
"Well, well… Garron Hale, awake at last. Didn't think you'd survive the poison, but you're tougher than you look."
Garron.
So that was this body's name.
Another man stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
"Let's skip the greetings. Just tell us—where did you hide the gold chest you found in the sealed dungeon?"
Alex blinked at him.
"What chest?"
The third man's face twisted.
"Oh, don't start that. Erik saw you walking out with the chest in your arms."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex said.
Calm voice.
Flat.
Dead with exhaustion.
The first man sighed dramatically.
"Well then, you leave us no choice."
And the torture began.
It was relentless.
Unending.
Cruel beyond reason.
They burned his skin with heated iron, carved symbols into his chest, broke fingers one by one.
The ropes cut deeper every time his body convulsed, slicing flesh, grinding bone.
The room filled with screaming.
Her screaming.
Because inside Garron's body… Alex lived the pain fully. No numbness. No escape.
Hours passed.
Maybe longer.
At some point the fourth man, who had remained silent the whole time, finally spoke.
"He's stubborn. Hard to break."
Alex coughed blood.
"I told you… you caught the wrong person…"
The second man spat at her.
"Lies. All lies."
They tortured her until her voice cracked—until her screams turned to rasping breaths.
Finally, the silent man murmured:
"This is pointless. He's not talking."
"So let him go," said the first.
But the second shook his head.
"Can't. He'll go to the guild. Report us. They'll boot us out."
The third asked, "Then what do we do?"
The silent one raised his eyes, cold and empty.
"What we did to the last one who didn't talk."
A chill colder than death washed over Alex.
They all nodded.
The decision was made.
They left the room.
Minutes later, the door creaked again.
But the thing that entered was not human.
A massive creature crawled into the room—
skin pale and cracked,
jaws wide,
rows of needle-like teeth glistening with saliva.
A grotesque abomination meant to "clean up evidence."
Alex's heart dropped.
"…not again…" she whispered.
The creature lunged.
Its teeth sank into her shoulder, tearing out flesh.
She screamed—louder than she had since Liz died.
The ropes shredded her wrists as she thrashed, blood spraying across the floor.
The monster bit into her pelvis.
Then her ribs.
Crushing, ripping, devouring.
Alex's screams rose higher, raw and broken—
Until her voice simply…
stopped.
All that remained was choking breath and the sound of bone snapping.
She kicked wildly, heels smashing the stone floor, but nothing changed.
She felt herself being eaten alive.
She felt everything.
And just before the world faded—
She whispered hoarsely:
"Enough… please… enough…"
But no one answered.
The darkness swallowed her.
And this time—
she came into it screaming.
Her voice echoed through the endless void, long after her body was gone:
"WHY?!
WHY DO YOU MAKE ME SUFFER LIKE THIS?!
SHOW YOURSELF!"
But the void stayed silent.
No goddess appeared.
No judgment.
No light.
Only the cold void…
and a faint feminine laughter curling behind her, closer than ever.
Not Seraphielle
Not a goddess.
Something older.
Hungrier.
Rooting itself deeper inside her soul.
Alex tried to turn—
but the laughter dissolved into smoke.
And the next life began.