The moment Drax crossed into his sister's subconscious, the world around him twisted.
It wasn't darkness. It wasn't light.
It was something in between — a dream caught between breaths, where thoughts melted and the laws of reality bent like dying flames.
He stood on a sea of glass, and beneath it, he saw Lyra — her small figure drifting beneath the surface, tangled in roots of shimmering energy. The strands pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, fragile but chaotic.
> This is her Inner World, Drax realized. But it's… breaking apart.
The air above him rippled with essence. Unlike his Abyssal world, which breathed silence and dominion, Lyra's was alive — overflowing with raw, unshaped energy. He could feel it brushing against his skin, like a thousand whispers trying to enter his body.
It was beautiful — and deadly.
He crouched, pressing his hand against the glassy sea. The surface trembled, responding to his touch. Beneath, Lyra's face turned toward him faintly, eyes still closed, her lips parting as if to speak through the water. Her essence called to him, wild and untamed.
> "Her body… it's absorbing nature's essence unconsciously," Drax murmured. "She's been feeding on the world without knowing it."
He understood now.
Every awakener was supposed to form their Inner World through control. Essence without discipline was poison — a fire without shape.
Lyra's affinity, it seemed, was Life Essence — a rare, radiant energy that drew the vitality of all living things. But without mastery, it drowned her instead.
Her Inner World had become an overflowing vessel, breaking from within.
A low hum shuddered through the dreamscape. The ocean of glass cracked. Fractures split the world around him as wild tendrils of essence lashed out — like vines, green and gold, wrapping around Drax's arm. His Abyssal essence hissed in protest, dark energy swirling as the two powers collided.
> "So this is what you've been trapped in, huh?" he said softly, tightening his grip. "Alright then, Lyra. I'll take some of it off your hands."
He closed his eyes and reached inward, opening the gateway to his Abyssal World.
The black tree within him stirred — its roots coiling, drinking in the foreign energy that poured through his veins.
He could feel both essences fighting inside him — the light of life, and the devouring dark.
For a moment, his vision blurred. His body burned. The clash of forces was unbearable — as if creation and extinction were tearing his soul apart.
> "Tch…" he gritted his teeth. "If I take too much, she'll die… but if I don't—"
The thought was cut short by a sudden pulse.
The Life Essence inside her fought back, not as resistance… but as recognition.
It began to flow into him willingly — threads of golden energy spiraling through the black veins of the Abyss, forming something new.
A delicate balance.
The darkness devoured, and the light restored.
And somewhere within that chaos — a heartbeat stirred.
Lyra's eyes fluttered open.
The dream cracked apart like shattering glass, and Drax gasped, snapping back into his body. His hand was still clasped around hers, faint wisps of dark smoke rising between their palms.
She blinked weakly, her voice a whisper.
> "...Big brother?"
The sound hit him harder than any blow he'd ever taken.
His chest tightened, and for a moment, all the weight of the Abyss seemed to lift.
He smiled faintly.
> "You really took your time waking up."
Her lips curled into a tired grin. "You always say that when you're worried."
He chuckled — low, quiet, but genuine. The kind of laugh that felt almost foreign now.
Behind him, the monitor beeped faster. His mother rushed in, eyes wide with disbelief.
> "Lyra—?! My baby, you're— you're awake!"
Drax rose, letting them embrace. His eyes, however, drifted to the window.
Outside, the faint glimmer of black cars still lined the distant street.
The Inner World Association hadn't left. They were watching. Waiting.
He could feel them — their probing essence, their suspicion.
And though his sister had just returned to the living, Drax's gaze turned cold again.
> "They can wait," he murmured. "They did nothing when I was weak. They don't get to care now."
As he turned to leave the room, a faint voice echoed inside his mind — not Lyra's, but something older. Deeper.
The Spirit of the Abyssal World.
> She carries the seed of Life. You carry the Abyss. One devours. One restores. Together, you can create.
Drax stopped briefly in the hallway, his eyes narrowing.
> "Create... huh?"
He smirked faintly. "Let's see what that means."
The house filled with the sound of his mother crying in relief, Lyra laughing weakly. But as Drax stepped outside into the cold night, that warmth dimmed behind him.
He glanced up at the stars, and for the first time, the reflection of the red moon from his inner world shimmered faintly in his eyes.
> "The world doesn't understand what's coming," he said quietly.
"But they will."
The streetlights flickered — once, twice — and then went dark as he vanished into the night.