Inside a giant, cavernous room that could easily accommodate thousands, hundreds of dark portals tore open. Edward, Sam, and all the hollows stepped through, their footfalls echoing in the vast emptiness. Sweat poured down Edward's face in rivulets. He wiped his forehead with a trembling hand, his breath coming in short gasps as he surveyed their surroundings.
"Is this the place?" Edward's voice wavered slightly, though his black eyes shimmered with determination beneath the harsh overhead lights.
"This is where the readings brought us," Sam replied, his tone measured but uncertain. He shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the barren space around them. "It's better than materializing in some random field, at least."
"What do we even do here?" Sam asked, turning slowly to take in the empty room. The walls stretched upward into shadow, and the floor gleamed with an unnatural polish. There was nothing—just endless, oppressive emptiness.
"Well, we look around," Edward suggested, though doubt crept into his voice. "There has to be something beyond this room, right?"
A hollow stepped forward, his confidence masking the fear that flickered in his eyes. He had pitch-black hair, black eyes like every other hollow, a muscular frame, and a pale, unnerving face that seemed almost skeletal in the dim light. "After all, this room wasn't placed here randomly," he reasoned, his voice carrying a forced certainty. "There has to be something beyond—like, I don't know, a bigger area or something."
The hollow's name was Grain. He walked toward a squared section in the floor, his footsteps deliberate and measured. "Like maybe this?" he said, gesturing downward as he stepped onto the square tile.
The moment his weight settled on it, the tile opened. Grain's eyes widened in terror as his body plunged into the darkness below. His scream echoed through the chamber, growing fainter as he disappeared into the bottomless hole.
Several hollows rushed toward the trapped tile, their faces pale with shock. They peered down into the opening, but total darkness greeted them—nothing visible, nothing discernible. The void seemed to swallow even the light itself.
Edward stepped forward, his jaw clenched. "Seems like someone wanted this place to be secure." He scanned the perimeter with growing unease. "There are no doors, no exits besides that fallen tile."
Suddenly, the room transformed. The walls, which had been pristine and beautiful moments before, faded away like a dissolving illusion. They revealed a dark, oppressive area that seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. Someone stood right beside the trapped tile—a figure with darkened hair, totally red eyes that glowed like embers, and shadows that coiled around their feet like living serpents.
Edward and Sam both recoiled, shock written across their faces. Behind them, thousands of hollows shifted nervously, their collective fear palpable in the air.
"Someone's here," Edward breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind raced through possibilities. "I wasn't expecting this. And I can only do that teleporting move once, so there's no way we can escape out of here."
"Don't you have any other trick up your sleeve?" Sam demanded, desperation creeping into his tone. "You shoot beams of death, you've created portals—there has to be some other thing you can do!"
Edward's shoulders sagged slightly. "That's all I can do at once. I have no other trick, no other cards to play." The admission felt like defeat on his tongue.
The man looked at all the hollows, then at Edward and Sam, his expression unreadable. "I wasn't expecting intruders," he said, stepping forward with predatory grace. A cruel smile played at the corners of his mouth. "But you know what they say—never expect the unexpected."
He drew out a large blade forged from shadow and blood, the weapon seeming to drink in the surrounding light. "Unfortunately for you all, I don't like having uninvited guests," he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "And I don't deal with intruders through murder alone."
All the tiles opened simultaneously. The hollows screamed as they fell, their voices creating a horrifying chorus. Edward plummeted as well, his stomach lurching. Sam managed to keep himself suspended in the air for a single, desperate second before he too fell into the pitch blackness below.
"Now," the man said, his voice echoing through the chamber with supernatural clarity, "I torture them for trespassing where they know they shouldn't have gone." His red eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure. "You have to pay for your mistakes one way or another. You have to learn from your mess-ups. But you picked the wrong person to teach you that lesson."
The hollows fell, and when they finally hit the ground far below, they found themselves in cages. Chains forged from an unknown material wrapped around their bodies like constricting snakes. They couldn't move—not even the strongest hollows could break free. Sam and Edward strained against their bonds, but the chains held firm, cutting into their flesh.
The man somehow teleported directly in front of them, materializing from the shadows themselves. "I'm not going to kill you, as you might have guessed," he said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. "I'm going to torture you for hours on end. Hopefully, you'll learn your lesson and never come back here again. And if you do..." He paused, letting the silence stretch. "Well, let's just say you won't be having a fun time here ever again."
He stepped closer, and the chains tightened in response. "These chains are made of blood and shadow, hardened into a metal-like substance," he explained with disturbing pride. "I want to strip every inch of skin from your bodies. Since I know some people can regenerate and some can't, I'll just have to use a mix of both approaches."
His eyes darkened to an even deeper crimson. "People who can regenerate—I usually skin them for days on end. Their torture lasts way longer but proceeds a little faster. To make a perfect mix of both," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried to every corner of the space, "I make the torture slow and long. Then, when your skin reforms, I'll do it all over again. Until you've learned your lesson. Until you beg for mercy. Until you're on your knees, telling me that you'll never come back here again. And only then will I release you."
He raised a finger in warning. "Don't try to say you'll never come back before we even begin. If you do, I'll just ignore you." His smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp. "Now, who wants to go first?"
---
Back inside Sin's mindscape, an endless void stretched in all directions. Sin looked up as Elias Red Wing materialized right in front of him. His father had made a deal that Elias would teach Sin the art of blood magic, no matter what. Elias still wore his blood armor, his pale skin almost luminous and his red eyes gleaming even though the place was pitch black. Somehow, Sin could see them all clearly.
"All right, Sin," Elias began, then paused abruptly. He looked around the space, his expression shifting from confidence to confusion, then to outright shock. "What? I can't—"
The man lifted his hands, attempting to summon his power. Nothing happened. He tried some strange movements that Sin couldn't understand, gestures that should have commanded blood itself. Still nothing.
"My powers aren't working here!" Elias's voice carried genuine alarm, something Sin had never heard from him before.
When Elias had been alive, when he had ruled as king of the Red Wing family—which had died out after his death—he had controlled blood at a masterful level. But now, it seemed his powers had simply vanished.
A system message appeared before Sin, rendered in red to clearly emphasize that it concerned blood powers. Sin had only ever seen his shadow-related notifications before, so he read this new message with intense curiosity.
*Anomaly detected. Entity attempting to use powers in your mindscape. System analyzing. Safety protocol engaged. Anomaly's powers have been disabled for the duration of its presence in the mindscape. The anomaly's powers will remain disabled permanently while in the mindscape.*
This confirmed Sin's worry. According to the system, Elias's powers were gone, but only while he remained in the mindscape. If Sin allowed Elias to take control of his body in the outside world, the ancient blood mage might regain his abilities. But for the time being, while Elias remained trapped in this mental space, he was essentially powerless.
"Why did the system trigger this?" Sin muttered, scratching his head in frustration. "I mean, is it worried that he'll try to hurt me? Is Elias some type of interference that the system wants to protect me from?"
Sin tried to piece together the logic. The system hadn't done this with the Shadow Demon version of himself, so apparently anything that wasn't directly branched from Sin's own essence, the system deemed a disruption and shut down immediately.
Now understanding what had happened, Sin decided to explain it to Elias, who stood frozen in disbelief. "Your abilities have probably been disabled here, at least while you're in my mindscape," Sin said carefully, watching for Elias's reaction. "If you control my body in the outside world—that is, if the system lets you—then you'll probably get some of your power back. But in the meantime, while you're in here, you're basically powerless. Which means you can't teach me the arts of blood magic by demonstration. We're stuck here, able to do nothing, which means I probably won't progress in blood magic at all."
"Wait," Elias said, cutting Sin off with sudden urgency. Hope flickered in his ancient eyes. "I can still teach you. I can show you how to practice blood magic effectively, even if I can't demonstrate it myself. If I will it, I think I can telepathically speak to you while you're not in the mindscape. Which means I'll be able to give you instructions along the way while you're practicing blood magic skills. That probably makes it way quicker than having to practice them and figure them out all on your own."
Elias was right. Even without his powers, he would still be helpful—perhaps even more so as a guide rather than a demonstrator.
Sin smiled, feeling a weight lift from his chest. He exited the mindscape and found himself back in the forest. He walked toward the large stone pillar, placed his hand against its cool surface, and watched as the door opened.
The guards stood at attention, and when they saw him, memories flashed through their minds. The holographic image from barely two days ago appeared in their thoughts—Kylie bringing Sin's broken, battered body through these very doors. That was the first time they had truly feared this man. In that holographic recording, he had worn shadowy armor, displayed an unsettling smile, and possessed dark shadows where his eyes should have been.
But now, he looked strangely normal. Almost human.
They drew their weapons instinctively, ready to face whatever Sin might do next. Their hands trembled slightly, betraying their fear.
Sin didn't know what to say. Why were the guards acting like this? He wasn't an outsider—well, he wasn't originally from the demon family, so perhaps it was strange. From his fragmented memories, he had randomly woken up in someone's room, so he didn't exactly know the proper protocols or procedures.
As he walked past them, he left the demon mansion behind. He analyzed the streets around him, orienting himself. He began walking in a direction that felt familiar, heading back to his apartment. He hadn't been there in what felt like ages.
He studied the streets as he walked, reacquainting himself with the mundane world. Block after block passed beneath his feet until he finally reached his apartment building. He unlocked the door with hands that shook slightly from exhaustion and pushed it open.
"All right," he said to the empty space, relief flooding through him. "Finally. Home sweet home."
He inhaled deeply, and fresh, warm air embraced his body. He felt at home again, truly at home. He felt normal, as if everything that had happened to him had simply disappeared—the system, the Shadow Demon version of himself, the hollows, every brutal fight, the Hunter, that strange monster. Everything felt like it had never happened, like it had all been some fevered dream.
He sat down on the couch and smiled, a genuine expression of contentment. His phone still lay where he'd left it, untouched and uncharged since he'd departed to retrieve the watch from Edward's dead hand—a mission he'd failed to complete due to circumstances beyond his control.
Exhaustion suddenly crashed over him like a wave. He stood on unsteady legs and made his way to his room, each step requiring conscious effort. He collapsed onto his bed, sinking into the familiar mattress.
"I think I need a rest," he murmured to the darkness.
Sleep embraced him almost immediately, pulling him down into its depths. His eyes closed, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sin found peace in unconsciousness, his soul finally allowed to rest.