Prince of The Abyss

The smell killed his nose; it was like a rotten corpse was breathing in front of him, that was how bad it smelled. And it wasn’t like he could have covered his nose, since the smell went through the fabric of his clothes.

Walking through the castle, he tried his best not to frown. After all, now that he saw the truth, he didn’t want to go back, and of course, the others also didn’t want to.

The corridors stretched endlessly, twisting like veins beneath pale light. Every few steps, something dripped, thick, slow, the sound of blood crawling down the walls. The marble wasn’t marble; up close, it looked more like bone polished to a sick shine, with veins of gold running through it like parasites pretending to be holy.

Aether’s boots left faint red prints. He didn’t want to look down, didn’t want to think about what the floor was made of. The scent clawed at him, half incense, half rot, like the air itself was trying to disguise what it was.

Once, he stopped by what looked like a doorway framed by ribs. Through it, he saw a hall filled with light, not sunlight, not divine glow, but something that pulsed in rhythm with a heartbeat he could almost hear. It felt alive. Watching.

He passed frescoes that shifted when he blinked, faces of saints melting into screaming mouths, halos dripping into chains. Somewhere deeper in the castle, a low hum vibrated through the ground. It wasn’t the sound of machinery or wind. It was breathing.

He squinted his eyes, looking at the end of the hospital, feeling watched, but as if the person watching him was in front of him. There was a figure in front of him.

The figure stepped out from the dark like it had been waiting for centuries for someone to finally notice it. Its robes were once white, now soaked to a dull, rusted red, heavy with age and something thicker than water. The hood hung low, hiding most of its face, but not the mouth, cracked lips whispering words that didn’t sound like a language, just the dry rasp of prayer repeated too many times.

Aether froze. The air shifted around the priest, warm and cold at once, like the castle itself was breathing through him. Every candle in the corridor flickered in time with the thing’s breath.

When it lifted its head, he saw its eyes, or what had been eyes. Two sunken hollows, filled with faint, pulsing light, like dying embers refusing to go out. The scent of incense grew stronger, pressing against his lungs.

The priest carried no weapon, just a rosary made of bone and gold, each bead engraved with a different face. They moved slightly, as if whispering through gritted teeth. When he spoke, the sound was quiet, but it filled the corridor all the same.

”The blessed are always watched,” it said.

Even when they stop believing.”

Its voice wasn’t angry, just… tired. Reverent. Tired of repeating the same routine of following a false god.

And for a moment, Aether couldn’t tell if the priest was talking to him or to the castle itself.

But one thing was for sure, he was uncomfortable as heck. He didn’t know what to do, whether he should continue to stay put or run away. The priest didn’t seem evil; it didn’t have any weapon... but why was it coming for him like that?

It wasn’t human, or rather, it didn’t see him as human.

The priest suddenly gave him a sharp look, the rosary in his hand turning into a white blade made out of the bone of the beast they were inside. It seemed holy, yet at the same time so cursed. He didn’t know where they got it, well, the beast, but how, and what did it mean.

’Why does he want to use it on me?’

He could have fought, but he decided against it, since this was a titan book; the people inside were bound to be strong, way stronger than him, so if he were to fight, he would just be making its life easier.

Running through the castles, he used his environment to his advantage. The priest looked to be old, so it couldn’t do things like jump over things, so it had to get them out of the way, so he used that, throwing stuff in front of him, and making him stuck for at least one second.

In the end, those seconds accumulated slowly but surely, until he was able to turn a corner and not see her for the next. But that didn’t make him relax; he knew that if he stayed still just once, he was going to be found. For now, he had to evade her, lose her, and leave. He couldn’t let her know when he leaves.

That would just make this chase continue into the outside world...

For the whole world to see a priest, someone that they respect to say them the words of the one they follow, chasing someone like him for nothing.

But while it would work on paper, he doubted it was going to actually work, since most of the people were in some kind of curse, illusion, or some sort of mental ability. By his guess, it revolved around his crest; he wasn’t able to prove it until now. But now that a priest has come to kill him, together with the description, it was clear.

In this world, the crest on your hand meant everything. The ones with bright light were rewarded and respected, but they were the ones deepest in this illusion.

Those with dim lights saw the truth, but were taken off by others or the priest. Since a dim light is a sign of how someone is a bad person...

He was being chased to death because he could see the truth.

Aether frowned, as from in front of him, the priest appeared, which couldn’t be impossible. Even if the priest had gone in another direction after he couldn’t see him, he couldn’t get here in time. While he had been walking around in circles in the castle, it wasn’t an actual circle.

He frowned, stopping in his tracks, as he raised his arms and walked back slowly.

”Look, let’s talk this out.”

Aether said nervously, as he continued to step back, until he hit something. Suddenly stopping, he looked back to see the same priest. And yet... the one in front of him was also there.

He blinked twice, seeing how there were two of them. Confused by this situation, he jumped away, trying to stay away from both of them, but with them cornering them, he had to find a way to get away, but how?

Aether frowned.

...

”Blessed by who? A God?... Not the first I’ve killed.”

He didn’t know if it would work, but there was a chance that Voidpiercer’s abilities were going to be strengthened. They were only supposed to do so if the one they’re fighting is related to a divinity, or is one. But while it was referring to the gods of their world, he wondered if it would work for any god, even if it was a face one with no existence.

Only believers... but isn’t that what actually makes a god a God?

’Worth a try.’

As the two priest were about to swing their blades, Aether summoned Voidpiercer from his arm.

”How dare your God mark me, doesn’t he see that another God, much stronger than him, had already done so?”

Swerving to the side, he came with the top of his blade from down below, and with an exploding speed and strength, he came up, hitting the blade of the priest in front of him right near the guard, so that it could fly out of his hand.

Without any weapon, one of them was defenseless, an easy kill.

He smiled cockily as he held his hand on the tilt, crossing his arms as he came from the side, cutting the head of the priest from his neck.

[You have killed a Reader Fragment, Clone.]

Without wasting a second, he turned around, where the first was trying to prepare another, but there was one thing. The priest was taller than him, by some distance, and he had tried to do a heavy attack by coming from up high, leaving his whole body open.

Ducking inside below, he knew it was a risky move; if he failed, the blade would easily hit him without him being able to dodge, but he knew this was the best move. The priest kept his weight and balanced on his right foot, which was in front of him, meaning that he was fully committed to the attack.

He could feel the sweat flow down his forehead as he reached with his hand to move one of his arms. Noticing that his left hand was wrapped around the hilt, and his right around his, he hit his left hand, sending it flinging alongside the blade, and because of his footing, he was caught unbalanced. Giving him a perfect opportunity to bring his blade right to his chest.

[You have killed a Reader Fragment, Clone.]

...

”Both of them... were clones?”