"The Abyssal Realm…"
Lucien's voice faltered, barely above a whisper.
He didn't know what it truly was—but fragments of memory, from the books the previous Lucien had read in the library, painted a picture no sane man would want to see.
A dimension beyond comprehension.
A world devoured by darkness, where monstrous things crawled and whispered in languages no human tongue could mimic.
A place where light went to die.
In short—
Hell.
"You're joking, right?" Lucien asked, his tone sharp, almost pleading.
Eidan's lips pressed into a thin line. "Why would I joke about that?" he said, his voice low, trembling despite the attempt at composure.
Lucien exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"Of course you wouldn't…" He gave a dry, broken laugh. "The temple's been silent for weeks—and now, suddenly, they want to send a bunch of kids into the Abyss itself? Have they all gone mad?"
Eidan's eyes flickered toward the window, where lightning split the sky in two. "They said something about… tempering us," he said finally. "And eliminating the unworthy."
"Tempering?" Lucien spat. "Eliminating the unworthy? What are we, steel to be hammered?!" He slammed his palm against the bedframe, the sound sharp against the thunder outside. "They're sending us there to die!"
Eidan didn't argue. His silence said enough.
Lucien drew in a long, shuddering breath, but calm refused to come. How could it? Even a madman wouldn't stay composed after hearing that he was being sent to the literal edge of existence.
"When does this 'trip to hell' begin?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"In the next full moon," Eidan said evenly. "A week from now."
Lucien froze.
A week.
Only seven days stood between him and the unknown maw of the Abyss.
Seven days until the temple cast them all into something no human should ever see.
At least it's not tomorrow, he thought bitterly.
But what am I supposed to do? Prepare to die less painfully?
Eidan's voice broke the silence again. "I noticed you weren't there during the announcement. I thought… you should know."
Lucien nodded absently. "Thanks," he muttered, though the word felt meaningless.
Eidan hesitated, then continued. "They also… mentioned something about cultivation."
Lucien frowned. He already knew what Eidan meant. When the initiates had first been brought here, the priests had destroyed their cultivation without hesitation—shattering the flow of essence within their bodies as if crushing insects underfoot.
"They said our old essence was tainted," Eidan said quietly. "That to enter the Abyss, we must start anew—forge our foundation with abyssal energy itself."
Lucien's hands clenched in his lap.
In this world—Pandora—the path to power was through essence cultivation: drawing the world's energy into oneself, refining it, and ascending beyond mortality.
It was the pursuit of godhood.
But abyssal energy…
Lucien's breath caught.
That wasn't cultivation. It was corruption—an all-consuming hunger that devoured everything it touched.
From the fragments of memory the previous Lucien had gathered in the library, he knew what happened to those who tried to wield it. They didn't just lose control.
They lost their minds.
Their souls.
Sometimes even their humanity.
And now, these lunatics wanted children to use that as their foundation?
Lucien's voice came out low, almost trembling with disbelief. "That's not training," he muttered. "That's suicide. They're feeding us to the void."
Eidan didn't respond immediately. His expression darkened, as if he were remembering something he didn't want to recall.
"There's more," he said quietly. "They taught us something new today. Said it was important."
Lucien looked up. "What?"
"It's called the Voice of the Void."
Lucien frowned. "Voice of the Void? What's that supposed to be?"
Eidan shifted uncomfortably. "They didn't really explain. One of the initiates asked—and the priest who was teaching us… he just stared at her. And then smiled." He swallowed hard. "She didn't ask again."
A chill crawled down Lucien's spine.
He could almost imagine that smile. The kind that didn't reach the eyes.
Eidan continued, voice trembling slightly. "They said it helps us track our progress once we start cultivating abyssal energy. And they made us memorize a rune—something like a chant. They said if you recite it, the Voice answers you."
He hesitated, then traced something faintly glowing in the air with his finger—strange symbols, broken like static. "It went like this…"
Lucien repeated it under his breath.
The moment the last sound left his lips, the temperature in the room plummeted.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then—
A whisper.
Soft. Cold. Everywhere.
It slithered through the air, wrapping around his mind like smoke. The sound wasn't a voice—not exactly—but a presence, bleeding into his thoughts.
###
[The Voice of the Void]
Name: Lucien
True Name: —
Bloodline: Human
Physique: —
Abyssal Rank: 0 (Unawakened)
Abyssal Fragment: 0
Attributes: [Soul of Two Worlds], [Vessel of the Sacred], [Heart of the Abyss], [Nexus of Prophecy]
Then came laughter.
Whispers echoing at the edge of hearing. Mocking. Incomprehensible.
"Who… are you…""Not him…""Not supposed to be here…""Stolen name… stolen flesh…"
###
Lucien's eyes went wide. His breath hitched.
The air was alive with murmurs—growing louder, closer, until the voices pressed against his skull.
He clutched his head and staggered back, heart pounding. "Stop—stop it—"
"Lucien!"
Eidan's voice cut through the noise. He grabbed Lucien's shoulders, shaking him.
And then—just like that—the whispers stopped.
Lucien stood there, gasping, sweat dripping down his face, his body trembling.
For a moment, only the rain filled the silence.
Eidan's voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "What… what did you hear?"
Lucien looked at him, his eyes still unfocused, haunted.
"…Nothing I ever want to hear again," he whispered.