A figure in tattered clothing lay half-submerged in a slow-moving river, drifting aimlessly as pale sunlight filtered through the canopy above. The light fractured as it touched the surface of the water, casting ripples of gold and shadow across his body.
Two deep claw marks marred the side of his neck.
Blood had long since diluted into the river, but the wounds remained—angry, dark, and unmistakably real.
For a long moment, the figure did not move.
Then—
His eyes snapped open.
Lemon-green pupils shone with sharp vigilance as Jael sucked in a sudden breath, his body jerking as if pulled from the edge of death. Water rushed into his lungs, and he coughed violently, rolling onto his side as his hands clawed at the riverbank.
"I'm… alive?"
His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Jael lay there, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms. Slowly—very slowly—the tension bled from his body. His shoulders dropped. His breathing steadied.
The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Birdsong echoed faintly in the distance, and the river flowed on as if nothing had happened—as if he hadn't nearly died just hours ago.
"The emissary of Nether…" Jael muttered.
His gaze drifted to the water, where his reflection wavered with every ripple. He looked pale. Hollow. Older somehow.
"It faded with the night… just like the voice said."
A chill crawled up his spine.
Memories surfaced unbidden—the shadowy humanoid shape, the red glow of its eyes, the pressure that crushed his thoughts before he could even react. The way his ability had failed him so easily.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips.
"So that story grandma told us… it wasn't just superstition."
A daemon.
The word echoed in his mind.
Tears welled up before he could stop them. They slid silently down his cheeks, mixing with the river as his shoulders trembled. Jael didn't sob. He didn't cry out.
He simply let the tears fall.
Fear, frustration, helplessness—everything he had suppressed came rushing out all at once.
After a minute, he inhaled deeply and pushed himself upright. His clothes clung heavily to his body, soaked through. Water streamed down his arms and dripped from his fingertips as he staggered toward dry land.
Each step sent a dull ache through his muscles.
When he reached the bank, he stood there, hunched slightly, before lifting a hand to rake his wet hair back from his face. His fingers brushed against his neck—
"Ghh…"
A low groan escaped him.
Pain flared instantly. The claw marks burned beneath his touch, raw and tender, as if reminding him that survival did not mean victory.
Before he could steady himself, the air before his eyes distorted.
A translucent screen flickered into existence.
Jagged symbols crawled across it—written in an unfamiliar language that felt wrong to look at, as though his mind strained simply trying to perceive them. Then, without warning, a voice echoed through his skull.
Ancient.
Desolate.
Inhuman.
YOU HAVE SURVIVED AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN EMISSARY OF NETHER.
YOU HAVE UNDONE ONE PERCENT OF THE SEAL.
(99% REMAINING)
Jael stared blankly.
"One percent…?"
His knees weakened, and he had to brace himself against a nearby tree.
"What seal?" he whispered. "What happens when it's all undone?"
Silence.
No response came—only the soft rustling of leaves and the steady flow of the river behind him.
Then the voice returned.
This time, colder.
DUE TO THE BALANCE OF LAW, A MORTAL CANNOT WIELD THE POWER OF A GOD AND LIVE.
YOU MUST FACE YOUR PENALTY.
Jael's eyes widened.
"Wait—what?" Panic crept into his voice. "Penalty? What penalty?!"
He tried to speak again, tried to demand answers—but the screen vanished.
The world seemed to tighten around him.
Then—
Agony exploded inside his skull.
"ARGHHHH—!"
Jael collapsed to his knees as a searing pain tore through his head, as if something inside him were being crushed, twisted, and reshaped all at once. His vision blurred violently.
Blood spilled from his eyes.
From his nose.
From his mouth.
He screamed until his throat burned, hands clutching his head as his body convulsed against the forest floor. Images flashed behind his eyes—fractured memories that weren't his, distant screams, collapsing stars, a throne buried beneath endless darkness.
Something inside him shifted.
Cracked.
And then—
Darkness swallowed everything.