The world was broken.

Endless slabs of stone jutted from the earth like shattered glass, tilting at impossible angles, their edges glowing faintly as if lit from within. The air was thick with a silver haze, soft and heavy, swallowing sound before it could carry far. Nothing moved, nothing lived—yet the land breathed with a strange pulse, a rhythm older than time itself.

Across the horizon stretched an ocean of mist. It shifted and writhed, coiling into shapes that almost resembled faces, before dissolving again into formless smoke. Each whisper of movement carried an echo, faint murmurs that brushed against the ears like half-forgotten voices.

A figure stirred among the ruins.

The boy lay sprawled on the cracked stone, his skin pale beneath the silver glow. His chest rose and fell shallowly, though he felt no heartbeat inside. Slowly, unsteadily, he pushed himself upright, his hands scraping across jagged fragments. His eyes—sharp, restless—scanned the endless wasteland.

Where was he?

Fragments of memory clung to him like dust. The flash of light. The rush of air. The sudden, choking stillness. And then—darkness. He remembered pain, and then nothing. Only silence.

But now… this place.

He staggered to his feet. The world wavered around him, unreal, yet painfully vivid. His body felt weightless, too light, as if stripped of the gravity that once held him to the earth.

Shapes moved in the distance.

Figures wandered the plain—pale, hollow things, some with faces blurred as if wiped away, others little more than shadows with limbs. They drifted without purpose, their heads tilted downward, whispering as they passed. Some crawled, dragging themselves across the fractured stone, clutching at the ground as if searching for something they had lost.

The boy felt his throat tighten. Were these people? Or what remained of them?

A sound rolled across the plains—deep, resonant, like the tolling of a bell struck beneath the ground. The wandering shades froze. Slowly, in eerie unison, they turned their heads toward the mist. Without hesitation, they began to shuffle forward, disappearing into its depths.

The boy’s legs trembled. Something inside him urged him to follow, to join the faceless procession. A pull, like a thread tied to his chest, tugged him toward the mist.

But he resisted. He clenched his fists, grounding himself against the stone. He had no memory of how he came here, no certainty if he was alive or dead—but he would not surrender so easily to a call he did not understand.

“Another who lingers.”

The voice slithered from the shadows.

The boy spun around. From behind a fractured pillar emerged a figure draped in tattered robes. Their face was hidden beneath a hood, but twin eyes glimmered like pale moons beneath the folds. Unlike the drifting shades, this one was solid, real.

“You resist the call,” the figure said, voice low and heavy with age. “Few awaken with their minds intact. Fewer still refuse the summons.”

The boy’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Where is this?”

The figure tilted its head. “You stand in the Shattered Plains—the threshold between life and the Veil. This is where all journeys beyond death begin.”

The boy’s stomach twisted. “Beyond death…?” The words caught in his throat. “Then… I’m dead?”

The figure gave no answer, only silence. The glowing eyes fixed on him, unblinking.

He swallowed hard. “Why am I here? What am I supposed to do?”

The robed being stepped closer. The edges of their form seemed to blur, as if they were stitched from shadow and smoke. “Because you seek what most do not: answers. Escape. Truth.” A pause. “But discovery has a price.”

Before the boy could speak again, the ground trembled. Cracks split across the stone beneath his feet. From the fissures seeped black liquid, thick and writhing. It spread like veins across the surface, pooling at his toes.

The shades who had not yet vanished into the mist suddenly shrieked. Hollow mouths opened wide, soundless yet agonizing. One by one, they sank into the black ooze, their bodies dissolving like smoke in water.

The boy stumbled back, heart pounding though no heartbeat drummed in his chest. The liquid surged toward him. Instinct took hold. He leapt aside as the ground where he had stood collapsed into a chasm.

The figure in robes watched silently, unshaken. “The Plains test those who linger. If you cannot endure the weight of death, you will be swallowed whole.”

The boy’s jaw tightened. He had no weapon, no shield, only his own will. But he would not let the darkness consume him. He darted across the fractured ground, dodging each surge of black liquid until at last the fissures closed, sealing the earth once more.

Breathless, he stood tall, sweatless though his body trembled.

The robed figure regarded him with those pale, unearthly eyes. “Stronger than most. You may yet survive the Veil.”

The boy straightened. His voice steadied. “Then tell me. How do I escape?”

The figure lifted a hand, pointing toward the endless mist where the shades had vanished. “Through the layers. Beyond the Plains lie the Labyrinth, the Forest, the City, and finally the Crossing. Only those who walk all paths may learn the truth of their end.”

The boy’s throat tightened. “And if I fail?”

“Then you remain here,” the figure said simply. “Forgotten. Hollow. Another echo among the dead.”

The silence returned, thick and smothering.

The boy turned his gaze to the mist. It swirled and shifted, calling to him with the same pull as before. But now he understood—this was not just an end. It was a path.

He clenched his fists. His name was still his, his mind still his. He would not become a hollow whisper in the mist.

With a final glance at the figure, the boy stepped forward.

“Every step will change you,” the robed being’s voice echoed after him, soft as a warning, heavy as a curse. “Choose wisely, traveler… for not all who journey beyond death return.”

And with that, the boy crossed into the mist.

His name was Kael.

The mist swallowed Kael whole.

At first, there was only white—endless, suffocating, like sinking into a sea of smoke. The air was heavy, pressing against his skin. He reached forward, stumbling, searching for ground, for direction. Every step sounded muted, as if the mist devoured sound as greedily as it devoured sight.

Then, a glimmer.

At the edge of his vision, faint sparks danced—reflections that grew brighter with each step. Slowly, the mist thinned, peeling back to reveal towering walls of crystal.

Kael froze.

The labyrinth stretched endlessly in every direction. Towers of glass-like stone rose higher than any fortress, their jagged surfaces catching unseen light and shattering it into rainbows that spilled across the ground. The walls pulsed faintly, as if alive, shifting hues from pale blue to deep violet. The air here rang with a faint hum, like thousands of tiny bells vibrating in harmony.

It was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.

Kael pressed his hand against one of the crystalline walls. It was cold, smooth, yet when he touched it, ripples spread across the surface like water disturbed. His reflection warped, twisted into grotesque shapes—his own face staring back with hollow eyes, his mouth stretched in a silent scream. He jerked his hand away.

A voice whispered from nowhere, and everywhere.

“Turn back…”

Kael spun, but no one stood behind him. Only the endless corridors of shimmering crystal, branching and twisting into infinity.

The labyrinth was alive. Watching.

He took a cautious step forward. The ground beneath his feet glowed faintly with each step, responding to his presence. He moved deeper, every corner leading to another corridor, every path identical yet different.

Minutes passed. Or hours. Time had no meaning here.

His reflection followed him in every shard of crystal. Sometimes it was him as he remembered. Sometimes it was older, with hollow cheeks and weary eyes. Sometimes it was… wrong. His reflection lingered even after he moved, smiling when he did not, whispering when he was silent.

Kael clenched his fists. Illusions. Just illusions.

But doubt gnawed at him. If the labyrinth could twist his own image, how could he trust what he saw?

He pressed on.

The hum of the labyrinth grew louder, harmonizing into something almost like music. But the melody was off—discordant, unsettling. From the walls, shadows began to stir.

Figures emerged—translucent, ghostly, carved from crystal itself. They had the shape of humans, but their faces were sharp angles, featureless masks of light. They glided silently, their bodies refracting into dozens of fragments as they moved.

Kael stepped back instinctively.

The figures raised their hands. Voices spilled from them, overlapping, a chorus of questions that battered his mind.

“Who are you?”

“Why do you walk here?”

“What do you seek?”

“Why do you live when you are dead?”

Kael’s chest tightened. The voices weren’t just sound—they pressed into him, heavy, invasive, demanding answers.

He gritted his teeth. “I… I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I’m dead. But I’m not going to stop until I find out.”

The chorus fell silent. The crystal figures froze, then shattered into shards of light that scattered across the labyrinth.

The silence that followed was worse than the questions.

Kael pressed onward.

The corridors twisted, each turn leading him deeper. Yet something gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. The labyrinth was shifting around him. He could feel it—walls closing, paths changing, guiding him somewhere he did not choose.

He reached an open chamber. The walls here stretched higher, the crystal shining brighter, almost blinding. In the center stood a mirror, taller than a man, framed in jagged silver.

Kael’s breath caught.

In the mirror, he saw himself—not as he was now, but as he remembered in life. Alive. Flesh and bone. His eyes bright, his body warm.

The reflection raised its hand.

Kael stepped closer. His chest ached with something he hadn’t realized he missed—the weight of his heartbeat, the warmth of blood rushing through veins. The reflection smiled at him.

“Step through,” it whispered. The voice was his own, but warmer, fuller. “You don’t have to wander. You can return. Leave this place behind.”

Kael’s hand trembled. His mind screamed for him to resist, but his body leaned closer. The mirror shimmered, rippling like water. He could almost feel the warmth of life again, the familiar pull of gravity, the sensation of being real.

But then—his reflection’s eyes darkened. The smile widened, stretching too far, too sharp. The voice warped into a hollow hiss.

“Give yourself to me.”

The mirror cracked. Shards splintered outward, and from the glass stepped another Kael—identical in every way, except for the hollow darkness in his eyes.

Kael stumbled back. His double advanced, every movement precise, purposeful. A perfect copy, yet wrong in every detail.

The doppelgänger spoke, voice flat and cold. “You are weak. Lost. You don’t belong here. I will take your place.”

The air grew heavy. The labyrinth hummed louder, resonating with the presence of the false Kael.

Kael clenched his fists. He had no weapon, no armor. Only himself.

But maybe… that was the test.

The double lunged. Kael dodged, his body moving on instinct. The false Kael mirrored his every motion, anticipating each strike, each step. It was like fighting a reflection—unyielding, relentless.

The battle raged across the chamber, their bodies slamming against crystal walls that shattered and reformed instantly. Each blow Kael landed was returned with equal force.

At last, the false Kael pinned him against the mirror, its cold hands closing around his throat. Darkness filled his vision.

This is it, Kael thought. This is where I end.

But in that moment, something sparked inside him. A realization.

The labyrinth wasn’t testing his strength. It was testing his will. His identity.

He forced his gaze into the hollow eyes of his double. “You’re not me,” he whispered, voice steady. “You’re nothing.”

The false Kael froze. Cracks spiderwebbed across its face. The hands loosened. With a final defiant shout, Kael shoved it back into the mirror.

The doppelgänger shattered into shards of crystal that dissolved into light. The mirror itself collapsed into dust.

The chamber fell silent.

Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping though he had no breath to take. His hands trembled, but his resolve was steel.

The labyrinth pulsed once, as if acknowledging his triumph. A path opened ahead, the walls parting to reveal a corridor bathed in pale blue light.

Kael rose. His body ached, but his spirit burned brighter. He understood now.

The Veil was not just a journey through strange lands. It was a journey through himself.

And he would not break.

He stepped into the new corridor, ready for whatever waited beyond.

The corridor of crystal narrowed, walls glowing faintly as they stretched onward. With each step Kael took, the light dimmed. The shimmering blues and violets of the labyrinth gave way to shadows, until the glow vanished entirely.

He stepped forward into darkness.

The air grew thick, damp, heavy with the smell of earth. A sound—soft, steady—echoed all around him: the slow drip of water. When his eyes adjusted, he realized he was no longer surrounded by crystal.

He stood at the edge of a forest.

Enormous trees towered above, their trunks twisted, bark black as charcoal. Roots sprawled across the ground like the veins of some great beast, slick with moss that glowed faintly green. The canopy above was so dense that no light broke through; instead, the forest seemed to glow from within, lit by clusters of ghostly fungi clinging to branches.

The air whispered. Leaves rustled, though there was no wind.

Kael hesitated, then stepped between the trees. The moment he crossed the threshold, the forest shifted. The sound of dripping water ceased. A new sound took its place—faint whispers, curling around his ears, too soft to understand.

His body tensed. This place was not dead like the Plains. It was alive. Watching.

He pressed forward. Every step sank into soil damp as flesh. Roots tangled across the path, forcing him to climb and weave. The forest smelled of rot and damp stone, but beneath it lingered something sweeter, tempting.

It reminded him of home.

Kael froze. Home. The word struck him like lightning. He hadn’t thought of it since arriving here. What did home look like? The memories blurred, slipping through his grasp like smoke. Faces, places—gone. Only fragments remained.

“Kael…”

The whisper was clearer now. A voice he almost knew. Feminine, gentle. His chest ached with recognition.

“Kael… this way.”

He turned. Between the trees, a figure stood. A woman, glowing faintly in the dark. Her face was soft, familiar, though he could not place her name. She stretched out a hand.

“Come back to me.”

His breath caught. His legs moved without thought, stepping toward her. The air grew sweeter, warmer, the oppressive shadows thinning.

But then—he saw it.

Her feet were wrong. They ended not in flesh, but in twisted roots burrowing into the soil. Her hand, outstretched, was bark beneath the skin. Her smile flickered, revealing teeth sharp as splinters.

Kael jerked back, heart racing. The woman hissed, her form twisting, unraveling into a snarl of vines and claws.

The forest laughed. The trees shook with soundless mirth, leaves rustling in waves.

Kael stumbled back, fists clenched. Illusions. Again. This place feeds on memory, on longing.

But the forest wasn’t finished.

Shapes emerged from the shadows. Dozens of figures, glowing faintly, each with half-formed faces. Some smiled, some wept, some reached for him with pleading hands. Their voices rose in a chorus:

“Stay.”

“Rest.”

“Join us.”

“Give yourself to the roots.”

The ground shifted. Roots writhed like serpents, rising, curling around his ankles. He tore himself free, stumbling, running deeper into the forest. The whispers grew louder, furious, chasing him.

He didn’t stop until the ground fell away beneath him.

Kael slid down a slope of damp earth, crashing into a hollow. The air here was colder, heavier. A pool of black water stretched before him, its surface perfectly still.

The whispers ceased.

Silence.

Then—movement.

From the pool rose a shape. A body, long and skeletal, its flesh made of bark and bone. Antlers stretched from its skull, tangled with vines that dripped with glowing fungi. Its eyes burned green, fixed on Kael with hunger.

The guardian of the forest.

It stepped from the water, roots dragging behind it like tails. Its limbs were too long, bending at unnatural angles. The ground trembled with each step.

Kael’s breath caught. He had nothing to fight with, no weapon but his will. Yet he refused to run. Not again.

The creature roared—a sound like trees splitting, thunder cracking. Roots surged from the ground, whipping toward him. Kael dove aside, rolling across the soil. A root smashed into the spot he had stood, splintering earth.

Kael scrambled to his feet, dodging strike after strike. Each root lashed like a whip, tearing bark and stone alike. He ducked behind a fallen trunk, heart pounding, searching desperately for anything he could use.

His hand closed around a jagged stone. Not much—but better than nothing.

The guardian’s eyes blazed brighter. It lunged, antlers lowering like spears. Kael leapt forward, slamming the stone into one of its glowing eyes. The shard cracked. The beast howled, rearing back, thrashing.

Roots whipped wildly, tearing the ground apart. One slammed into Kael’s chest, throwing him across the hollow. He hit the soil hard, pain lancing through him. For a moment, he lay still, vision blurring.

The guardian loomed over him, dripping black water from its body. Its remaining eye glowed brighter, blinding.

Kael forced himself up, every muscle screaming. He clenched the stone tighter, raised it high, and with a roar of defiance, drove it into the creature’s chest where the roots converged.

The forest shrieked.

The guardian convulsed, its body splitting with cracks of green light. Vines withered, antlers shattered. With a final roar, it collapsed into dust and roots that melted into the soil.

Silence returned.

Kael fell to his knees, gasping. His body shook, his hands bloodied, though no blood flowed. His chest ached with exhaustion—but his spirit held strong.

The forest seemed to sigh, as if acknowledging his victory. The whispers faded. The path ahead opened, roots pulling aside to reveal a narrow trail glowing faintly with moss.

Kael rose. Every step hurt, but he moved forward.

He had passed the forest’s trial.

But he knew now—this journey was not just about survival. It was about endurance. About resisting temptation, fighting fear, and holding onto himself even as the Veil tried to strip him away.

He stepped onto the glowing path, vanishing deeper into the Abyssal Forest.

The shadows closed behind him.