Silence fell.
It was not ordinary silence, nor rest after battle, but a dense emptiness pressing down on the place, as if the world itself hesitated before continuing to turn. The air was heavy, saturated with the remains of blood, the heat of burned bodies, and the echo of screams that had ended only moments ago, yet had not completely vanished. They remained suspended in existence, like a memory that refused to die.
The giant monster stopped moving.
For the first time in an unknown span of time, its limbs did not tremble violently, and the voices inside it did not clash with the same noise. Its deformed mass, made of strange flesh and twisted bones, seemed to have lost some of its weight, or perhaps the madness weighing it down had receded slightly.
It was not true clarity.
It was a truce.
A short, fragile truce, like the calm before another collapse.
Ashen stood at a short distance, his body covered in remnants of blood, as if he had just emerged from the womb of a massacre. There was no expression on his face. No victory. No relief. No tension. His eyes were steady and rigid, as if what had happened moments ago meant no more to him than a natural movement in this world.
The aura radiating from him was not loud or distorted.
It was savage.
Cold.
Stable.
Suffocating.
Its mere presence was enough to force the souls inside the monster to retreat. Not complete silence, but a forced withdrawal, like predators compelled to lower themselves before a higher predator in the chain.
Long moments passed without a single word.
Then, in a voice that sounded as if it came from dozens of throats at once, overlapping, rough, broken:
"What will you do now?"
The voice was not curious.
It was the question of a being that did not know the meaning of a path.
The giant monster paused, then added in a voice less disturbed than before:
"Where will you go?"
Ashen did not move.
He did not turn.
His breathing did not change.
As if the question carried no special weight.
"I will go to the Gathering of the Sects."
He said it with absolute simplicity, as if stating an obvious fact, not a decisive choice.
The giant monster fell silent.
The voices inside it grew confused for a moment. Some tried to mock. Some tried to scream. Some seemed not to understand the words at all. But the cold aura forced them to retreat again.
"The Gathering of the Sects…"
The monster repeated the words slowly, as if tasting them, not to understand, but to measure their weight.
Ashen continued, in the same empty tone:
"It will take place in six months."
No further explanation.
No talk of goals.
No mention of ambition, opportunity, or ascent.
Six months.
Nothing more than a point in time.
Another moment of silence passed.
The giant monster seemed to be trying to gather its thoughts, or rather, gather the fragments of thought from the dozens of souls sharing its body.
"And why?"
The question came out more distorted this time, as if some of the souls did not like the answer.
Ashen replied without hesitation:
"Because it will happen."
He did not say because I want to.
He did not say because I will benefit.
He did not say because I seek power.
Just a temporal fact.
Something that will occur… and he will be there.
A heavier silence followed.
The giant monster felt something strange seep through its temporary awareness. It was not frustration, nor anger, but emptiness. The being standing before it did not see the future as a goal, nor the past as a motive.
Nothing.
Only continuous movement within a world that devours itself.
"Do you expect anything from there?"
the monster finally asked.
Ashen turned his head slowly this time. He looked at the monster briefly, without sharpness, without real interest.
"No."
One word.
Final.
"The Gathering of the Sects, according to some memories we have consumed, is a place desired by young blood. A place where destinies change,"
the monster said, its voice carrying echoes of memories not its own alone.
"Where the strong are born, and the weak are crushed."
Ashen returned his gaze to the empty space ahead.
"That happens everywhere."
It was not an objection.
It was not a correction.
It was a statement.
Silence returned again, but this time it was different. The giant monster did not only feel the absence of noise, but something closer to confusion.
This being did not deal with events as the souls inside it did.
It did not feed on ambition.
It was not driven by immediate hatred.
Not even by curiosity.
After a while, the monster moved slightly, and its voice rose again:
"And after the gathering?"
Ashen did not answer immediately.
He was not thinking.
He was not planning.
He seemed instead to be trying to remember whether the question itself deserved an answer.
"I don't know."
Then he added after a moment:
"And it doesn't matter."
The aura around him did not change, but the weight of the words was heavier than any threat. As if the future itself held no fixed meaning to him.
The giant monster realized something in that moment.
This being does not walk because he has a destination.
He walks because stopping is not an option.
The voices inside it whispered, some with mockery, some with fear.
A being without purpose is more dangerous than one driven by a thousand desires.
"You…"
the monster began, then stopped.
It did not know how to continue.
Ashen did not wait.
"And you?"
The word came out with absolute coldness.
"Where will you go?"
The question fell upon the giant monster with unexpected weight.
For the first time in a long while…
it had no ready answer.