Elias fell to his knees.
His whole body shook violently, like it might break apart at any moment. Tears poured down his face, mixing with rain and blood. He couldn't stop them. He didn't even try.
"I didn't want this…" he whispered brokenly. "I didn't want to kill anyone…"
The ground beneath him was soaked red.
His chest felt empty and tight at the same time, like something had been torn out of him while something else had settled in its place.
Before he could breathe properly—
Voices.
Distant at first.
Then clearer.
"Who's there?!" "What's going on?!" "I heard screaming!"
Elias's head snapped up.
Lantern lights flickered through the rain.
More guards.
Several of them.
Their silhouettes moved closer, spreading out, weapons drawn.
Panic slammed into him.
"No… no, no, no…" he whispered, scrambling to his feet despite the pain. His legs felt weak, barely holding his weight. Blood loss made the world spin.
He looked around desperately.
To his left—dense forest. Dark. Endless. The trees stood packed tightly together, branches tangled like claws.
To his right—nothing but stone.
The massive wall of Sancthorn rose before him, tall and unforgiving, disappearing into darkness above.
Trapped.
Completely trapped.
The guards were getting closer.
"Over there!" "I see someone!"
Elias ran to the wall and pressed his bloodied hand against it, looking for anything—cracks, ledges, anything at all.
Nothing.
It was smooth. Impossible.
"I can't…" he gasped. "I can't climb this…"
His legs trembled.
His vision blurred again, darkness creeping into the corners of his sight.
The guards shouted from very far.
"Stop right there!" "whoever is there!"
Footsteps splashed through mud.
Time was running out.
Elias closed his eyes for a second, leaning against the wall, his forehead touching cold stone.
"I don't want to die…" he whispered again.
Something answered.
Not with words.
With motion.
His body suddenly tightened.
Muscles burned.
Bones strained.
Before he could even react—
His body moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Elias felt himself push off the ground—
And suddenly—
He was rising.
Up.
The wall blurred beneath him as his body climbed with impossible speed, in just one jump he was over the wall. His movements were smooth, powerful, inhuman.
In a single motion—
He vaulted over the top.
Elias landed hard on the edge of the wall.
His breath was knocked from his lungs.
He stared around, stunned.
He was standing on top of Sancthorn's outer wall.
Thousands of feet above the ground.
Wind howled around him, rain whipping against his face. The city spread below on one side, lights glowing faintly through the storm. On the other—darkness stretched endlessly.
His knees buckled.
The height hit him all at once.
The world spun violently.
"I—I can't…" he murmured.
His vision blurred completely now. Blood loss made everything feel distant, unreal. His legs gave out as dizziness overwhelmed him.
Elias stumbled backward.
Toward the inner side of the wall.
The guards' voices echoed faintly below, distorted and far away.
And then—
His foot slipped.
The rain-slick stone offered no grip.
Elias's eyes widened in terror.
"No—!"
His body tipped backward.
And he began to fall—
Back toward Sancthorn.
Toward the place he no longer knew how to face.
The rain swallowed his scream as the darkness rushed up to meet him.
As Elias fell, the world spun violently around him.
Wind screamed past his ears, rain slashed against his face, and the lights of Sancthorn blurred into long, broken lines beneath him. His body was too weak to fight it anymore. The pain, the blood loss, the fear—everything crashed together inside his chest.
His eyes slowly closed.
I won't survive this.
The thought came calmly, without panic.
If anything, it felt like relief.
His mind drifted, slipping between awareness and darkness. He imagined the ground rushing up to meet him, imagined the impact shattering what little remained of him. Bones breaking. Everything ending.
I'm going to die.
And for the first time since all of this began—
He accepted it.
Just inches before his body should have smashed into the stone—
Something changed.
A sensation surged through him.
Not warm.
Not gentle.
Cold.
Heavy.
Dark.
A powerful force flooded into his body from somewhere deep within, like a gate opening inside his chest. Elias didn't scream. He didn't react. His conscious mind was already fading, unable to understand what was happening.
But his body responded.
His fall twisted unnaturally.
In mid-air, his body spun with sudden, violent force, as if the air itself had grabbed hold of him and turned him around. A strange pressure wrapped around him—dense, crushing, overwhelming.
Then—
BOOOOM—!!
Elias hit the ground.
The impact was massive.
The earth cracked outward from where he landed, deep fractures tearing through the stone like shattered glass. Dust and debris exploded into the rain, the shockwave rippling across the ground.
Yet—
Elias stood up.
Unharmed.
No broken bones.
No shattered body.
His feet pressed firmly against the cracked stone as if he had always meant to land that way.
Rain poured over him.
Blood still flowed from his wounds.
But the impact that should have killed him… hadn't.
Elias's head tilted slightly as if his body itself was confused.
His eyes were half-open, unfocused.
His mind was barely there.
He didn't understand what had just happened.
He didn't even realize he was alive.
The dark energy that had surged through him slowly settled, sinking back into places he couldn't sense or name. His body swayed slightly, balance unsteady, as if the power had left him just enough to stand—but not enough to stay strong.
Elias took a step forward.
Then another.
His movements were slow and clumsy now, nothing like before. The inhuman speed and strength were gone, leaving behind only pain, weakness, and exhaustion.
Blood dripped steadily from his arm, soaking into the ground with each step.
His vision blurred again.
The world felt distant, muffled, like he was walking through a dream.
I need… to go inside…
The thought barely formed.
He didn't know where he was going.
He didn't know why.
Only that staying here meant death.
Elias staggered forward, leaning heavily against the stone wall for support. His breathing was shallow, uneven. Every movement made his body ache, every heartbeat felt weaker than the last.
Blood loss was taking its toll.
His legs trembled.
His fingers slipped against the wet surface as he pushed himself onward.
"I… won't make it…" he whispered faintly, though no one was there to hear him.
The walls of Sancthorn loomed around him as he slowly, painfully made his way back toward the interior. Each step felt heavier than the last. His vision darkened at the edges, narrowing into a tunnel.
Still, he walked.
Even as his strength drained away.
Even as his body screamed for rest.
Some part of him—small, stubborn, terrified—refused to fall yet.
And so, bleeding, shaking, and barely conscious—
Elias forced himself forward, deeper into Sancthorn, not knowing if he would ever reach safety…
Or if he would collapse and die before he got there.
Somehow—
Elias made it inside.
He didn't remember how many steps he took, or how long he walked. Time had lost all meaning. His body moved on instinct alone, dragging itself forward while his mind drifted in and out of darkness.
The moment he crossed into the interior of Sancthorn, the world changed.
The open rain faded behind him, replaced by stone corridors and dim torchlight. The sound of water dripping echoed faintly through the halls. Every footstep he took left something behind—
Blood.
It smeared across the floor beneath him, dark and uneven, trailing behind like a silent confession of what he'd done—or what the world would think he'd done.
Elias noticed it too late.
"No…" he whispered hoarsely, trying to keep his arm close to his body, trying to stop the bleeding with pressure that no longer worked.
His vision swam.
The walls stretched and bent, flickering at the edges like they weren't real. Faces passed by him—guards, workers, distant figures—but he kept his head down, shoulders hunched, moving slowly, carefully.
Don't look at me.
Please don't look at me.
Every sound made his heart jolt. Every shadow felt like it was watching him. If anyone saw him like this—covered in blood, wounded, barely standing—
They would kill him.
He knew that.
They wouldn't ask questions.
They wouldn't listen.
He was already dead in their eyes.
Elias changed direction suddenly, slipping into narrower corridors, choosing paths with fewer torches and less movement. He avoided open halls, avoided light, avoided people.
Each step hurt.
His legs trembled constantly, threatening to give out. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his chest tight like it was slowly being crushed from the inside.
"I don't understand…" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible even to himself.
His thoughts tangled together, slipping apart as quickly as they formed.
"Why is this happening to me…?" he whispered, almost crying. "I never… I never did anything wrong…"
His words echoed weakly against the stone.
"I never hurt anyone…"
"So why… why me…?"
His senses began to fail him.
Sounds grew distant, muffled, like he was underwater. His sight blurred until everything became smeared shapes and dull colors. His body felt lighter, almost hollow, as if something inside him was slowly draining away.
Blood loss.
Too much.
Too fast.
Elias stumbled, catching himself against a wall just before he collapsed. His palm pressed against the cold stone, leaving another red mark behind. His knees shook violently.
"I can't…" he breathed. "I can't keep going…"
Then—
Something caught his eye.
At the far end of a forgotten corridor, barely lit by a single dying torch, stood a door.
Old.
Very old.
Its surface was cracked and darkened with age, symbols carved into it so worn they were almost impossible to read. Dust coated the floor around it, untouched, undisturbed.
No footprints.
No signs of use.
It felt wrong.
And yet—
Safe.
Elias stared at it through his blurry vision, his heart beating weakly in his chest.
"No one…" he murmured. "No one comes here…"
His legs carried him forward without thought. Each step felt like it might be his last. He reached the door, fingers trembling as they brushed against the cold wood.
The moment his hand touched it—
Something deep inside him stirred faintly.
He ignored it.
With the last strength he had left, Elias pushed the door open and slipped inside—
Disappearing into a place Sancthorn itself seemed to have forgotten.
The moment Elias stepped inside—
He shut the door behind him.
With trembling hands, he pushed it closed and turned the heavy lock.
Click.
The sound echoed loudly in the silent room.
Only then did he allow his body to give up.
He leaned against the door, gasping for breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His legs finally failed him, and he slid down slowly until he collapsed onto the cold stone floor.
Silence.
Deep.
Unnatural.
Elias lifted his head weakly and looked around.
The room was enormous.
Far larger than it had looked from the outside.
There were no beds.
No furniture.
No windows.
Only mirrors.
Huge mirrors.
They surrounded the room completely—towering from floor to ceiling, curved slightly inward, forming a perfect circle around the center. Each mirror reflected another, creating endless copies of the same image stretching into infinity.
At the far end of the room, mounted high on the wall, was a massive device.
A camera.
Far too large to belong in a place like this.
Its dark glass lens stared directly at the center of the room—at Elias—as if it had been waiting for him. Dust covered its surface, but the lens itself was clean.
Watching.
Always watching.
Elias swallowed hard.
"What… is this place…?" he whispered.
His voice sounded strange here—too clear, too sharp, bouncing endlessly between the mirrors.
He pushed himself up slightly and staggered forward, his bare feet dragging across the floor. Blood dripped steadily from his wounds, staining the stone beneath him.
Drop.
Drop.
Drop.
He reached the exact center of the room without realizing it.
And then—
He saw himself.
Not once.
But hundreds of times.
Every mirror showed Elias from a different angle—his pale face, his blood-soaked body, his missing hand, his trembling form.
He didn't recognize himself anymore.
His reflection looked broken.
Empty.
Scared.
"I…" His voice cracked. "I'm still alive…?"
The room offered no answer.
The pain finally caught up to him.
His heart thudded weakly in his chest, slower now, uneven. His breaths became shallow, barely filling his lungs. The strength drained from his body all at once.
Elias collapsed.
His knees hit the ground first.
Then his hands.
Then his whole body gave in, falling flat onto the cold floor.
Blood spread beneath him in a dark, widening pool, creeping outward in slow silence.
His vision blurred completely.
The mirrors faded into shadows.
His heartbeat weakened.
Thump…
Thump…
Each beat farther apart than the last.
"I don't want…" he whispered faintly. "I don't want to die…"
His eyelids felt impossibly heavy.
The world dimmed.
And then—
Something changed.
In his fading vision, the mirrors in front of him began to darken. Their reflections twisted, stretching unnaturally. The endless copies of Elias disappeared one by one.
At the center of the room—
Something appeared.
A throne.
It hadn't been there before.
Massive.
Black.
Carved from something that didn't look like stone—or metal. Dark patterns ran across its surface, pulsing faintly, like veins filled with shadow.
And sitting on that throne—
Was Elias.
But not the Elias he knew.
This version stood taller, broader, unmoving. Dark energy seemed to flow around him like smoke. His eyes glowed faintly, filled with something ancient, cold, and endless.
A demon.