Aries reached the town square where the Whisper Guild was located. The building rose before her—old stone, dark windows, iron gates—but her attention was on the crowd. A small sea of bodies had gathered in front of the guild base, pressing against the iron fence, their voices rising in a chaotic chorus. They were residents. Farmers. Shopkeeps. Refugees. All of them calling on the guild members and adventurers to find out what was happening on Blackstone Mountain.
Aries squeezed herself through the crowd, elbows sharp, shoulders tight, ignoring the complaints of those she pushed past. She reached the front.
An attendant stood on a raised platform, flanked by three adventurers. They faced the crowd, their postures stiff, defensive. The attendant wore a black cloak with red lines running through it—the Whisper Guild's colors. The adventurers acted as bodyguards, their hands resting on their weapons, their eyes scanning the unpredictable crowd.
The crowd had only one concern.
Why wasn't the guild helping the residents of Blackstone Mountain?
The attendant tried to raise her voice, but it cracked under the weight of the mob. "The Whisper Guild is currently understaffed, but we've made pleas to other guilds in other towns for assistance."
"That's bullshit!" someone from the crowd shouted.
"People are dying up there!" another voice added.
"What if this town is next?" a third person commented, her voice high with fear.
"Do not be afraid." The attendant raised her hands, palms out, a gesture of calm that fooled no one. "We have put measures in place to help the situation."
Aries scrambled forward, pushing past a man's shoulder, ducking under a raised arm, until she stood at the very edge of the platform. She raised her voice. "Excuse me! I need a healer. My friend is in critical condition."
A few eyes rested on her. A brief flicker of attention. Then the crowd's roar swallowed her words. The attendant was already turning away, trying to calm someone else.
Aries's chest tightened. She filled her lungs and shouted on top of her voice.
"I need a healer for my friend! She's going to die, goddammit!"
The attendant turned.
Her red hair stood out prominently against the dark stone behind her—a splash of fire in the grey morning light. Her eyes locked with Aries's, dark brown meeting dark brown, and for a moment, the crowd seemed to fade.
"I'm sorry." The attendant's voice was quieter now, meant only for Aries. "We'll get to everyone as soon as we settle things."
Then something flew through the air.
A rotten fruit—soft, brown, stinking—sailed directly for the attendant's face. One of the adventurers moved, his hand shooting up to block it. The fruit splattered against his palm, juice dripping down his wrist. The adventurers closed ranks, ushering the attendant back into the building as a small uproar erupted. The crowd began throwing anything they could find—pebbles, half-eaten bread, curses.
Aries stood motionless amidst the chaos.
Unsure of what to do next.
Healers were not common. Every guild had to have at least one, but that didn't mean they were easy to access. And she was certain the Whisper Guild had a healer. So why weren't they helping?
A shove from behind jolted her back to reality. Someone's elbow caught her ribs. She stumbled sideways, caught herself on a lamppost, and then ran. Down an alleyway. Past stacked crates and overflowing barrels. Until she reached the side of the guild building.
A window stood open on the second floor.
She didn't think. She stacked crates against the wall, tested her weight, and channeled a thin stream of aura into her legs. The boost lifted her—just enough. Her fingers caught the windowsill. She pulled herself up and through, landing in a crouch on the other side.
She couldn't leave empty-handed. Raya would die.
The hallway was long and narrow, lined with doors and lit by flickering sconces. Adventurers moved past her—some in cloaks, some in armor, some carrying scrolls or weapons. There were more than enough of them. More than enough to help the people outside.
Aries spotted a man leaning against a doorframe, his cloak pinned with a bronze brooch. An adventurer. Probably someone with authority. She started toward him, her mouth already opening to speak—
"What are you doing here?"
The voice came from behind her.
She flinched. Spun.
The hallway was empty. No one stood where the voice had come from. Just shadows and the distant flicker of torchlight.
Aries opened her mouth to answer, but no words came.
Koby found himself in the dark place again.
The void stretched in every direction—no floor, no ceiling, no walls. Just emptiness. Cold and infinite and absolutely silent. He had been here before. When he had fallen into the wave of Shoggoths. When the entity had spoken to him.
"What happened?" he said to himself.
Then the memory returned. Silas. The tentacle. The shove. He had pushed Axle out of the way. He had thought James would try to take the hit, and he couldn't let that happen. So he had offered himself instead.
Why?
He didn't know. He couldn't fully comprehend it. He wanted Axle and James safe. But did that mean he had died?
Was he really dead?
The void offered no answer. Just silence. Thick and heavy and suffocating.
"Where are you?" Koby called out into the nothingness.
No reply came.
"Guess I really did die."
The words left his mouth, but they didn't feel real. Not yet. But as he stood there, the realization began to dawn on him—cold and slow and terrible. He was dead. His breath caught. His chest seized. The pain came rushing back.
He remembered the tentacle hitting him. The impact. The split second of weightlessness before his body started coming apart. Disintegration. Fast. Merciless. His stomach had been the first to go.
Koby gasped. The void flickered.
And then he was awake.
Pain.
It shot through his body like wildfire—burning, consuming, everywhere and nowhere at once. His eyes flew open, but his vision was blurred, red at the edges. He tried to move and couldn't. Not because he was restrained. Because his body wouldn't obey.
He couldn't feel his lower body at all.
From his abdomen downward, there was nothing. No sensation. No movement. Just a terrible, hollow emptiness that was worse than any pain.
What happened to him?
He didn't know.
Slowly yet agonizingly he raised his head. His neck screamed. His shoulders burned. But he forced himself to look down at his body.
It was a grotesque sight.
His torso was nearly split in half. Only a thin line of flesh and his spine connected his upper body to what remained below. The wound was dark—edges blackened, flaking, disintegrating. The same poison that had eaten through Lyrielle's arm and stomach was eating through him. Faster, though. Much faster.
The smell hit him a moment later.
Rotten flesh. Blood. Something chemical and wrong. It filled the air around him, thick and nauseating, making his head spin and his stomach—what was left of it—lurch.
Koby began to panic.
Was he really going to die here?
After everything—the White Room, the Shoggoths, the training, the hope—was this how it ended? Torn in half by a monster's tentacle, bleeding out in the dirt while his friends fought for their lives somewhere he couldn't see?
He couldn't even survive a long time in this new world.
Tears welled in his eyes—hot, stinging, unwanted. He had hoped. Despite his broken pathways, despite the entity inside him, despite every sign that he should just give up—he had hoped. He had met Aries, who had looked at him and said "you're screwed, Koby" and somehow made him feel like that was okay. He had started to believe he could survive. That they all could.
He didn't want to die.
He wanted to be alive. Wanted to live with his friends. Wanted to see what came next. Wanted to prove that a broken player could still matter.
He didn't want to be alone.
The visions came next.
Not real—not yet, but vivid enough to stop his heart. James on his knees, swords protruding from his back like a grotesque metal spine, blood dripping from his face while he smiled. Raya's forehead slit open, her eyes still blinking, still aware. Kai impaled on a crystalline staff, his blue eyes wide with shock that had frozen into permanence.
And the valley. That terrible valley. Bodies everywhere, covering the grass like fallen leaves, and birds descending in a black, hungry cloud.
Even Rachael. A hole in her chest where her heart should have been.
The visions flooded Koby's mind, drowning out everything else. He had seen them before—the first time he had met the entity. The thing had shown him these images as a threat. As a promise.
This can be what you make it, or you can change it entirely.
Koby's tears fell freely now, tracing hot lines down his dirt-streaked cheeks. If these visions were truly of the future, he couldn't stop them. Not if he died here. He hadn't even told his friends about them. They didn't know what was coming.
He just couldn't—
Unless.
The entity.
It could help.
The thought surfaced like a gasp of air from deep underwater. He didn't want to trust it. He didn't want to owe it anything. But if there was even a chance—
The visions vanished.
All of them. Gone in an instant, replaced by something else. Not darkness. Not void. A bright sunset, golden and warm, stretching across a sky that seemed to go on forever. Koby blinked, confused.
He thought he was stepping into another vision.
But it wasn't a vision.
It was a memory.