The monster's eyes locked with mine.
His trident vanished. He began walking toward me—and every footstep left fire in its wake.
I couldn't move.
Not because of a spell. Not because of magic.
I was paralyzed by something far worse.
Fear.
He stopped directly in front of me. His expression shifted—from menace to calm indifference.
His voice echoed like thunder across the wasteland.
"Out of my way, mortal."
The sound alone nearly knocked me to the ground.
But I was stubborn. And he had insulted me.
I threw my sword at him.
It passed straight through his body—and clattered to the ground behind him.
His eyes darkened.
He closed his fist and pulled.
I flew toward him—face to face with something far beyond Mazza. Far beyond me. Far beyond anything I had ever encountered.
He didn't use a spell to hold me in place.
He didn't need to.
I was frozen by my own terror.
He leaned closer. Squinted.
"I said... get out of my way."
His voice dropped even deeper.
"If you plan to fight me—you will die."
He hurled me across the scorched earth.
Then wings erupted from his back.
Not feathered. Not scaled.
Bone.
Naked, skeletal wings—spreading wide against the burning sky.
He lifted off and flew away.
And I lay in the dirt, gasping for air.
Forsaken
I teleported home immediately.
I found Jax and told her everything.
She slapped me.
Then she screamed at me for what felt like an hour—though it was probably thirty seconds.
"You went alone?! You could have died!"
"I didn't die. I'm fine."
"You're lucky I don't kill you myself!"
She kept yelling.
I sat there, barely listening.
My mind was still on him.
Whatever that thing was—it wasn't a man. Wasn't a monster. Wasn't even a king.
It was something else entirely.
Jax eventually stormed out to inform the other leaders.
I stayed in the same position all night.
Thinking.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
Morning
I woke before dawn.
My mind hadn't stopped working.
I needed to know what that being was.
I grabbed the pyramid and reached out to Dixon and Cast.
"Leave it alone," Dixon said immediately.
"Absolutely not," Cast added.
"Why?"
They spoke in unison: "That type of being is not to be messed with—especially by a human."
I tried to press them for more.
They refused.
I left the pyramid's realm and teleported back to the Land of Hell.
Return
The house I had burned down was intact.
Completely whole.
As if the fire had never touched it.
I looked up—and saw something moving in the sky.
It didn't look like a bird.
It looked like him.
He landed.
His wings turned to smoke and vanished.
I forced myself to walk toward him, trembling.
"W-Who... a-are you?"
He turned.
His gaze hit me like a wall of heat.
Hostility radiated off him—thick, suffocating.
I backed away slowly.
Then hit something.
An invisible wall.
I turned. Punched it. Pounded it.
It didn't budge.
When I turned back around, he was already in front of me.
He summoned his trident.
And pressed the tip against my forehead.
The Visions
Images flooded my mind.
Pain.
Suffering.
An eternity of it.
Souls screaming. Bodies burning. Darkness without end.
By the time the visions stopped, he was gone.
I collapsed to the ground.
I had never felt that much agony—not even from Mazza's curse.
And then I remembered: the curse hadn't activated. It had been two days.
The witch doctor's suppression had worked.
The Truth
I stood.
I finally had my answers.
The being I had seen was called Satan.
Ruler of the dead realm. Lord of Hell.
He tormented the wicked souls that passed through his domain.
And from everything I had just witnessed—
I knew I didn't stand a chance.
Not even close.
Mazza
I turned to leave.
The door of the house slammed open.
I spun around.
Eyes glowed in the darkness—red, burning, furious.
The shadows around them grew darker. Denser.
Then the figure stepped into the light.
Mazza.
My heart raced.
I activated my armor—and felt the Illuminati's power surge alongside it.
Mazza raised his remaining hand.
He pulled.
Something inside me shifted. I dropped to my hands and knees, gasping.
He walked toward me.
"It seems you're being protected by something," he muttered. "I can't even take my power back."
He reached for me again—
A hand erupted from a portal of fire behind him.
A voice—deeper than anything I had ever heard—tore through the air.
"You dare interfere."
Satan grabbed Mazza by the throat.
And dragged him through the portal.
It closed.
He was gone.
The Illuminati
Before I could process what had happened, I was pulled into the white realm.
The Illuminati stood before me—Juumaa at the center.
"Congratulations," he said. "You have done what we could not."
I shook my head. "It wasn't me. I didn't kill him."
Silence.
"Then who did?" Juumaa asked.
I told them everything.
The being. The visions. The name.
Satan.
As I spoke, I watched their expressions change.
For the first time—
The Illuminati looked afraid.
They thanked me for the information.
And sent me back.
The Lie
I stood in Forsaken, alone.
I made a decision.
I called a meeting.
And I told them I had killed Mazza.
I left out Satan. Left out the portal. Left out everything I couldn't explain.
I told them I had spoken to the Illuminati—and they had confirmed it.
The leaders accepted the news.
But Jax and Cole watched me closely.
They didn't fully believe me.
I didn't care.
Some secrets were better kept.
A New Hunt
With Mazza gone, I could finally return to what I loved.
Sword chasing.
During the past two years of war, I had heard rumors of a blade—the number one ranked sword in existence.
Dark Heart.
It fed on negative energy from the dead around you.
I set my sights on it.
But for now—I needed rest.
It had been a long day.
I closed my eyes.
The Nightmare
I walked through darkness.
Something stood before me.
I couldn't see it clearly—but I felt it.
Evil.
It spoke.
"You are the key to all of this."
I tried to respond.
"You are what holds everything together."
Then it stabbed me in the chest.
I woke up screaming.
The Second Being
I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat.
It was dark outside.
I climbed out of bed and walked downstairs, rubbing my eyes.
The room was pitch black.
No candles lit.
I always kept them on.
Then I saw it.
In the corner of the room.
A small figure.
Red, beady eyes.
A cloak of pure shadow.
The hostility that radiated from it was unlike anything I had ever felt—heavier than Satan's, denser than Mazza's.
My legs gave out.
I hit the floor.
The figure floated toward me.
Locked eyes with me.
Something extended from beneath its cloak—light, impossibly bright, forming the shape of a hand.
It grabbed me.
Lifted me.
And spoke.
Its voice made Satan's sound like a whisper.
"So. You're the portal."
I couldn't breathe.
"Satan should have picked a more durable one."
I didn't dare speak.
Its hand glowed brighter.
It reached inside me.
I felt something—power. Raw. Immense. Flooding through me.
Fear left my body.
Completely.
I could look it in the eye now.
It pulled its hand back.
Vanished.
The candles flickered to life.
I sat in the middle of the floor.
Fearless.
And almost empty inside.