Nihal was lying on the bed, his eyes half-closed in a light slumber. There was still a dull ache lingering in his body, but lying around like this was starting to feel uncomfortable. Suddenly, a loud roar shattered his drowse. He snapped his eyes open and looked around, unable to figure out where such a deafening sound had come from. As his gaze drifted toward the door, he was left stunned. Everyone was running around in a panicked rush. Someone even tripped and fell, but it was as if they didn't even have a moment to catch their breath, getting right back up, they started sprinting again.
Nihal narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought perhaps a commander had called for them, but things shouldn't be this chaotic. As he tried to get up, he felt a sharp pain in his ribs, as if someone were twisting a hot knife inside his chest. Even though he cringed in agony, he pressed a hand against his ribs and somehow managed to sit up. Then, slowly sliding his feet down and using the wall for support, he limped toward the door to see what was actually going on.
Though it hadn't sounded very loud from inside, reaching the door made him realize that a hellish carnage was unfolding outside. The screams of people, the clanging of swords, and the sound of explosions all merged together to make the surroundings feel like a battlefield of doom.
Just as he took another step forward, he saw Anirban rushing toward him. Anirban's eyes were filled with intense terror, his face stained with patches of blood. The man who had been joking around with him just an hour ago now looked like he had crawled straight out of the underworld. His entire body was covered in injuries.
As Anirban came a bit closer, Nihal froze in terror. Amidst all the commotion, his eyes locked onto one specific detail, Anirban's left arm was gone. Completely severed from below the shoulder. Seeing this, a chilling fear began to crawl up the base of Nihal's spine.
Before Nihal could ask anything, Anirban collapsed onto the ground near him. He no longer had the strength to stand, and words seemed unable to escape his mouth. Nihal sat down in front of him, trying to help him calm down.
Anirban swallowed hard, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. He placed his right hand on Nihal's shoulder and pulled him close.
As Nihal leaned in, Anirban handed him a small box. With a look in his eyes, he gestured for Nihal to take it. Though his mind was racing with a thousand questions, Nihal took it without asking anything. Seeing Anirban's eyes starting to close, Nihal slapped his cheek lightly, trying to keep him awake. With a broken voice and fading eyes, Anirban whispered,
"Take this box to the 3rd basement. That monster won't be able to reach it there. Here is the key."
With that, he pressed a key into Nihal's hand. Like a fool, Nihal looked back and forth between the key and Anirban's face. Anirban shoved him, motioning for him to go. Holding the key and the box, Nihal stammered,
"What about you? You need a healer. Come with me to the 3rd basement..."
Nihal couldn't finish his sentence before Anirban cut him off mid-way,
"Don't worry about me. Just make a promise that no matter what happens, you will try to protect this box with your life."
Saying that, he told Nihal to leave. But looking at the terrifying environment around them, Nihal hoisted Anirban onto his shoulder and started moving toward the basement. Even though Anirban told him to put him down and go alone, Nihal refused to listen to a single word. He winced slightly from the pain in his ribs, but he cared about none of it now.
Destruction was running riot outside, and the surrounding air grew heavier with relentless screams and cries. With every step, Nihal's heartbeat grew faster. Panic tightened its grip around his chest with every breath. He felt Anirban's body growing heavier and colder against his back. The slow, warm breath brushing against his ear made the hairs on his skin stand on end. What was happening outside no longer mattered to him; his only thought now was whether he could save Anirban.
Suddenly, as Anirban's body went completely limp on his back, Nihal cried out in a panic for help. But his desperate plea was swallowed entirely by the roar of the destruction raging outside. Glancing out a nearby window, he refused to believe that any of this was real. It felt as though he was trapped inside some horrific nightmare. Suddenly, a massive blast echoed.
*BOOM.*
Nihal was blown away, crashing hard against a distant wall. For a few moments, the surrounding light grew blindingly bright, and he couldn't even open his eyes properly. A persistent ringing filled his ears. Blood poured from his forehead, and when he tried to push himself up, he realized he couldn't move his arm. Blinking through a hazy vision, his gaze fell upon his arm. A large piece of debris from the wall had crushed it, mangling his arm almost from the elbow down. Through his blurred sight, he looked ahead. A few feet away, amidst the dust, Anirban lay motionless.
For a few fleeting moments, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Suddenly, a flash of his entire life played before his eyes.
He was running, playing with children with carefree, giggling laughter, receiving scoldings from his mother. Confessing his feelings to his first love, and remembering those words from the old grandmother. What had she said again? He couldn't quite remember, but her words echoed clearly in his ears. The final line was that,
"the day he was set free, the skies would turn pitch black to announce it, and cries of death would fill the air."
Why was he seeing all of this right now? Shaking his head slightly, Nihal forced himself back to awareness. He couldn't pull his arm free, even though his body wanted to move, some invisible force seemed to pin him down. Giving a hard tug, he realized his arm was tearing apart. Anirban was lying right in front of him, clutching that box in his left hand. Just to keep his promise, he had to survive.
Pushing aside the agony, he began violently forcing his arm out.
First his skin, then the flesh beneath, and finally every single tendon of his arm began snapping like cloth threads. The pain made him scream so loudly that his eyes bulged wide. Stuffing a torn piece of cloth lying beside him into his mouth, he gave one final, ultimate yank and collapsed slightly backward. He had torn his own arm free. It was still partially hanging by some muscle tissue, but if a healer survived, it could be reattached.
Thinking this, Nihal wiped away his tears. Pulling the cloth from his mouth, he wrapped it tightly around his arm to stem the bleeding. He tried to stand, only to collapse immediately. Amidst the agony of his arm, he hadn't noticed that the bones in his ankle were broken. Tears in his eyes, pain distorting his face, traces of shock lingering, he felt as though he were standing straight inside hell.
Somehow forcing himself up, he limped over to Anirban. He reached him and nudged him to check for any movement. Finding no change at all, he pressed his ear against Anirban's chest to listen for a heartbeat. Feeling it still faintly beating, he let out a brief breath, but there was no time to sit. Trying to lift him despite his broken leg, he failed completely. Blinded by frustration, anger flared up inside him, he hated his own useless body right now.
His breathing grew heavier and heavier, his dazed mind unable to figure out what to do. Swallowing hard, he wedged the box under the armpit of his torn arm and, dragging Anirban with his other hand, began limping forward. He didn't have the strength to carry him on his back, nor the condition to escape alone, but he refused to leave Anirban behind.
For a brief second, his eyes glanced outside, but he couldn't bear to look at that hellscape anymore. Gathering his final scraps of strength, he and Anirban finally reached the 3rd basement.
A massive iron door stood before them, it was obvious from the outside that breaching it wasn't going to be easy. He had only been here for a few months, and so much was too much to digest in such a short time. Propping Anirban against the nearby wall, Nihal collapsed onto the ground for a moment. His eyes grew heavy; it felt like finding peace meant just dying right here. But the door was only a few feet away, opening it and getting inside meant a chance at salvation. Yet, like a thirsty traveler giving up right at the edge of a well with water in hand, Nihal's state was almost identical. Suddenly, he slapped himself hard across the face. This was no time for lethargy.
Sitting up, he pulled the key from his pocket and reached to unlock the door when his entire body suddenly went numb. He didn't even have the strength left to blink his eyes.
Something was right behind him, he knew that much clearly. Every single hair on his body and his sixth sense were screaming at him not to look back. An aura so suffocating and heavy was choking the last bit of air from his lungs. This was the exact same feeling he had experienced back in that dark cell. Had he really managed to escape?
With trembling hands and using every ounce of his remaining strength, he forced the door open. He desperately wanted to avoid looking back, but as the door swung open, he saw that there were still many people inside. More than half of them were severely injured, locked in a struggle against death. The scene inside made it look like soldiers retreating from a brutal warzone. But the most shocking part was how everyone was staring at him, not with relief, but as if they had just laid eyes on the God of Death.
It didn't take him long to realize that their reaction wasn't meant for him, but for the terrifying monster standing directly behind him. Looking down, he realized the beast had gotten so close that he could see its massive shadow looming over him. Shifting the box to his other hand, he tossed it gently into the room, and then slowly turned around.
Standing right in front of him, drenched in blood, was Tameem. A demonic smile spread across his face, and not wanting to retreat any further, Nihal stepped fully out beyond the threshold. Standing there, Tameem wiped the blood off his blade and hurled a single question at Nihal,
"Where is the box?"
Nihal's eyes widened at the mention of the box. What was inside this box that he was made to promise to protect, and why had this monster come looking for it? It was definitely something that could never be handed over to Tameem.
Keeping himself calm and staring straight into Tameem's eyes, he replied,
"There is no box here. And why are you slaughtering innocent people like animals?"
Tameem cleaned his blade, smiled gently at Nihal, and in the very next second, he was right in front of Nihal. He crossed a distance of about twenty meters faster than the blink of an eye. Nihal didn't even get the time to brace himself before the sound of a blade slicing through the air echoed.
Nihal felt sure it had pierced right through his body, but looking down with trembling eyes, he saw that Anirban had blocked the blade. Before Nihal could say anything, a massive blast went off, and Tameem was knocked slightly backward. Nihal's legs could no longer support his weight, so he collapsed to the ground. Anirban was standing right in front of him.
It was clear that Anirban could barely see straight, yet in a broken voice, he told Nihal to go inside. But Nihal refused to leave Anirban behind and grabbed onto his leg.
Tameem stepped back a little, brushed the dust off his body, and stood straight. Though hit by a sudden attack, it didn't seem to faze Tameem at all. Looking at Anirban, he chuckled,
"Ah, so you're the one who had the box!! I must hand it to you, even after losing an arm, you managed to escape with the box in your other hand."
Nihal kept trying to pull Anirban inside, but Anirban's gaze remained locked on Tameem. Without looking back at Nihal, he said,
"Nihal, you have to protect that box no matter what happens. I won't be able to hold him off for long. So please, go inside and close the door."
With tears welling up in his eyes, Nihal pleaded,
"I won't leave you here alone."
Anirban cut him off with a stern reprimand,
"This is no time to show emotion, Nihal. Your survival is what matters most, and I can't entrust this box to anyone else."
Tameem laughed right in the middle of their conversation, breaking the tension between them.
"Well... what a wonderful bond you two share. But please put your romance aside for a moment and hand me the box, and I'll let you both live. Refuse, and I'll take it straight from your corpses."
Saying that, he charged forward. Anirban tried to trigger another blast, but this time he failed. Tameem's blade plunged straight through Anirban's stomach, bursting out from his back. Yet even then, Anirban grabbed Tameem's hand tightly and screamed at Nihal to get inside.
With tear-filled eyes, Nihal backed away, but his heart refused to accept leaving Anirban to face death like this. Realizing this, Anirban managed to trigger one final blast behind him. The shockwave blew Nihal backward into the room, and the heavy door began to close at that very moment.
At the final second, Nihal screamed, trying to reach out to Anirban, but the others inside held him back. He started wailing like a child, begging them to bring Anirban inside. Amidst those cries, just as the door was sealing shut, he caught a final glimpse of Anirban's gentle smile and heard his last words,
"The box remains in your trust."
The next instant, the door slammed shut, and everything plunged into absolute silence. Nihal let out a raw, soul-shattering scream.
Tameem pulled his blade out of Anirban's back and struck the massive door violently with it. The force of the strike ripped Anirban's broken body apart. His entrails spilled out, turning the entire area into a flood of crimson blood. Just as Tameem raised his blade to hack at the door again, someone called out to him from behind,
"What is going on here, Tameem?"
Wiping the blood from his face without turning around, Tameem answered,
"I came to pick up a gift that was meant for you."
The man behind him said in a grave tone,
"We need to track down the Dark Sword first; we can deal with gifts later."
Annoyed, Tameem muttered,
"Can't we even wait a second?"
Without a word, the man turned and started walking away. Tameem, suppressing his irritation, followed right behind him. Right then, Solis, the Angel of Darkness residing within Tameem, mocked him,
"What's wrong with this Sameer? Why is he in such a rush? He sat around doing nothing for three hundred years, so why all the hurry now?"
Tameem kept walking in silence, but Solis kept nagging him,
"Why are you following his orders despite having my power, Tameem? Does he think he's superior or something?"
Suddenly, Sameer stopped dead in his tracks, causing Tameem to halt as well. Turning his head slightly backward, Sameer spoke,
"Can you tell the angel inside you to shut up, or should I permanently silence it for you?"
Tameem's eyes widened in horror, and his heart rate spiked to a dangerous extreme. Up until this second, no one else knew that an angel lived inside him, yet Sameer could actually hear what that angel was saying? Completely stunned, Tameem lowered his head without uttering a word.
Sameer resumed walking straight ahead and said with a faint smile,
"Learn to control your heartbeat, Tameem. Just because my powers have been sealed away behind walls of magic across my eyes and body doesn't mean my senses stopped working."
Tameem didn't even have the strength left to reply. A single drop of sweat trickled down from his temple and settled near his ear. For the very first time in his life, Tameem felt an overwhelming sense of terror. Clear traces of panic were plastered all across his face.
Reaching the border of the Void imperium, Sameer burst into a chilling, deafening laugh. His laughter made the blood freeze in Tameem's veins, though he tried hard not to show it. Looking up toward the sky with a twisted grin, Sameer declared,
"God... you had plenty of fun playing with your creation. Now, enjoy the thrill of watching it burn to the ground."
Meanwhile, inside the room, Nihal sat huddled alone in a dark corner. He clutched Anirban's final legacy tightly against his chest. His eyes were swollen and red. When a healer tried to approach and treat his injuries, Nihal shoved him violently away. Screaming through his tears, he roared,
"Everyone in here is a coward! The man who gave you shelter and saved your lives was left out there to die, and you have no shame? If any of you dare come near me, it won't end well. I couldn't do a thing to that monster, but I won't think twice about killing every last one of you!"
Lowering their heads, everyone could do nothing in response to his words. No one had an answer; their minds were consumed entirely by terror and guilt.
Nihal's eyes flashed with a fierce, burning resolve for vengeance. He pressed the box even tighter against his chest as his tears dropped onto its surface. In absolute silence, he made a solemn vow to himself, he would slaughter Tameem with his own bare hands.