Death wasn't peaceful for Vastarael. It wasn't the quiet oblivion he once imagined, nor the solemn embrace he'd heard tales of. No. Death was tearing apart of his very existence.
At first, there was only cold, a bone-deep frost that wrapped around his essence and froze him to the core. He couldn't breathe or think. He was weightless, yet crushed under an unbearable force. It was as though his entire being was being unraveled, thread by thread. And then the horrors began.
The void opened.
It was an endless abyss, but not empty. No, it was full, swarming, writhing and teeming with shapes and beings he couldn't begin to comprehend. Monstrosities with too many eyes, mouths that whispered forbidden truths and screamed maddening hymns. Vastarael's vision was assaulted by colors he didn't have names for, hues that bent and broke his mind with their sheer existence. He tried to shut his eyes, but there was no escape. The void didn't care about such petty limitations.
In the distance—or perhaps all around him, because time and space had lost their meaning—he saw them.
The Amorphous Souls, cosmic horrors so vast and incomprehensible that their presence alone threatened to dissolve him entirely. Their forms shifted endlessly: limbs sprouted and disappeared, eyes blinked in and out of existence, and their mouths stretched impossibly wide to reveal galaxies spinning in their throats. They devoured worlds, entire planes of existence, and they were staring at him now.
He knew their name but he couldn't do anything.
A voice, deep and guttural, boomed from nowhere and everywhere.
"A fragment...lost and broken...yet delicious in despair."
He felt them clawing at him—not his body, for that was long gone—but his very soul. They tore at it with unseen talons, pulling, stretching, threatening to unravel the core of his being. He screamed, or at least he thought he did, but the sound was swallowed by the void. His pain didn't matter here. His existence didn't matter.
And then there were the watchers. They stood at the edges of the void, impossibly tall figures cloaked in shadow and adorned with crowns of twisting, spiked light. Their eyes glowed with a cruel intelligence as they observed him, murmuring in languages that grated against the edges of reality.
"He sees… and he remembers. But he will return. No escape. No freedom."
Vastarael tried to resist, tried to fight the pull of the abyss, but he was nothing here, more like a speck of dust in an endless storm. The void wanted him, needed him, and it wouldn't let go. He felt himself endlessly falling into a spiral of pain and despair. There was no end to the torment, no light, no hope.
And then, suddenly, he woke up.
°°°°°°°
His eyes snapped open as he gasped for air, his chest heaving with desperate breaths. Pain surged through his body like wildfire and he clutched at his chest instinctively, only to freeze when his fingers found the hollow cavity where his heart should have been.
His hand trembled as he pressed it against his chest. No heartbeat. Nothing. Just an empty, horrifying silence. He choked back a scream, his breaths coming in shallow, frantic bursts.
"What… the fuck…"
He stumbled to his feet, his body shaking as he tried to make sense of what had happened. His heart was gone, ripped out of him by Stephos— no, Permafrost's Grasp, and yet, here he was, still standing.
It made no sense.
Desperation clawed at his mind as he activated Soul Vision. The world shifted around him, glowing with the ethereal hues of soul energy. He focused inward, peering into the hollow cavity where his heart had been, and what he saw made his stomach turn.
A pseudo-core pulsed weakly in the empty space, a crude, temporary organ formed entirely of his own soul energy. It was unstable and barely holding itself together, its surface flickering like a dying flame. It was forcing his Soul Energy to act as fuel, siphoning his very soul to keep him alive.
He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as the realization sank in.
"This… this is cruel..."
Every breath he took, every second he remained alive, came at the cost of his own soul. He didn't care because Aeterium have endless Soul Energy and indestructible souls but still...
His mind raced as he tried to process the horror of it all. He had died. He knew he had died. And yet, some twisted force had dragged him back, refusing to let him rest. His body felt wrong and incomplete. Every movement, every heartbeat, or lack thereof, as a painful reminder of what he had lost.
He gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists as tears of frustration and rage streamed down his face.
"Why… why the hell am I still alive?"
The memory of Stephos's laughter echoed in his mind, taunting him, mocking him. He had been defeated, humiliated, and now, even in life, he was left to suffer.
Gripping Calimostria tightly in his hand, he rose to his feet.
"You wanted me alive," he muttered under his breath, addressing the unseen forces that had pulled him back from death. "Fine. But you're going to regret it—"
Before the final word even left his lips, the ground beneath him vanished. He felt weightless for a split second, gravity itself seeming to abandon him, and then he was plummeting. The air was ripped from his lungs as he fell through nothingness, his body spinning uncontrollably. It was as though the floor itself had spat him out, tossing him into the unknown without warning.
And then he hit something.
Water.
The impact wasn't gentle. It was like colliding with a solid wall. His body sank rapidly. For a moment, he panicked, his hands flailing in the dark waters, but then his instincts kicked in. The icy chill of the water seeped into his bones but his Water Divinity flared to life, wrapping around him like a protective cocoon. He opened his eyes.
He was in an endless, inky black ocean. It stretched infinitely in every direction, so vast and oppressive it made him feel like an ant beneath the weight of a colossal sky. But unlike the surface world, this place was alive with an eerie red glow that pulsed faintly in the distance, illuminating massive currents that swirled like underwater storms. Schools of strange, translucent fish darted past him, their bodies glowing faintly like distant stars.
Vastarael realized he could breathe. The water wasn't suffocating him and his movements weren't sluggish. In fact, his body responded as if he were still on land. His limbs felt light, powerful and fluid, as though the ocean itself had accepted him. He flexed his fingers, testing the limits, and a faint smirk touched his lips.
'So this is the work of my Water Divinity. Guess I'm not completely cursed, huh?'
But that fleeting moment of levity evaporated when he saw them.
From the distant red glow, shadows emerged and the water around him seemed to tremble as if recoiling in fear. Vastarael narrowed his eyes, focusing, and his heart—no, his pseudo-core—lurched in his chest. Sharks.
Not ordinary sharks. These monsters were massive, easily the size of whales, their bodies coated in crimson scales that shimmered like molten metal. Their mouths gaped open, revealing rows upon rows of teeth that could shred steel.
There were dozens of them. Maybe more. And they were all heading straight for him.
'Shit.'
He didn't have time to think, didn't have time to curse the spire for throwing him into yet another hellhole. The sharks were moving unbelievably fast, cutting through the water like torpedoes. And they weren't here to chat.
His instincts screamed at him to move.
He kicked off the ocean floor, propelling himself forward with an explosive burst of energy. The water around him erupted into a shockwave as his essence surged, flooding his body with raw power. He didn't hold back, not now, not when his survival was on the line. Every ounce of his energy was funneled into speed and agility.
The ocean itself seemed to part as he raced through it, his movements creating rippling trails of sapphire light. Vastarael tore through the water like a bullet. The sharks roared behind him, their cries vibrating through the depths as they gave chase.
The first one lunged, its massive jaws snapping shut just inches from his foot. Vastarael twisted mid-motion, spinning around the beast with a fluid grace that bordered on supernatural. He lashed out with Calimostria, its sapphire blade cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter, but the shark was faster than he expected. It veered to the side, dodging the strike and snapped its tail, creating a shockwave that sent Vastarael spiraling.
'Not bad. But I'm faster.'
And then he really let loose.
With a roar, he channeled even more of his essence into his movements, his body glowing faintly with a sapphire hue. The ocean around him erupted into chaos as he accelerated, creating massive shockwaves that rippled outward in every direction. The sharks were fast but Vastarael was faster. He weaved through the water with inhuman precision, dodging their snapping jaws and slashing tails with millimeter-perfect accuracy.
But they were relentless. For every shark he evaded, three more closed in, their crimson forms cutting through the water like living missiles. Vastarael gritted his teeth, pushing his body to its absolute limits. His pseudo-core burned in his chest, the unstable energy within it threatening to rupture, but he didn't care. Pain was irrelevant.
He twisted through the water, flipping and spinning as he narrowly avoided another shark's lunge. Its jaws snapped shut where his head had been just moments ago, the force of the bite creating a massive shockwave that nearly threw him off balance.
He retaliated with a quick throw of Calimostria, the blade grazing the beast's side and drawing a thin line of glowing blue blood.
"One down," he muttered, though he knew it wasn't true.
The sharks were swarming now, their massive forms creating a crimson vortex around him. Vastarael knew he couldn't keep this up forever. His pseudo-core was draining his essence at an alarming rate, and the sharks were only getting more aggressive. But there was no room for doubt, no time for hesitation. He clenched his jaw, his sapphire glaive glowing brighter as he prepared for the next attack.
'Come on, then. Let's see if you bastards can keep up.'
And with that, he dove deeper into the abyss, the sharks roaring behind him as they gave chase. The battle wasn't over, not by a long shot, but Vastarael wasn't about to let the spire win. Not now. Not ever.