Their boots crunched over uneven ground for the better part of an hour, the eerie silence of the Soulrealm pressing in like an invisible weight. Aside from the occasional gust of wind that stirred the dead grass and distant echoes of long-forgotten screams, nothing disturbed their march.
Hope's body was sore but functional, thanks to the bitter medicinal pill Massa had offered them earlier. She hadn't said a word when she handed it over, simply placing it in his palm with a slight nod. It had tasted like ash and iron, but within minutes his muscles eased, and the pulsing pain in his shoulder faded to a dull throb. His sword, now stored away in the depths of his soul sea, was in the process of slowly mending itself—its hilt glowing faintly with fractured light when last he saw it. Only his cloak remained dismissed for now. Though it protected him from wind and dust, water was a different matter.
They crested a shallow slope and stopped in unison.
Before them lay a body of water.
A perfect circle. Still. Silent. Fifty feet wide, maybe more. The surface was mirror-like, unmoving despite the occasional breeze that tugged at their hair. Not a single ripple. Not a sound of running current or flowing stream. Just stillness. Unnatural stillness.
Hope immediately took a step back. A cold knot coiled in his gut.
"Damnation…" he muttered under his breath.
He hadn't gone to school. Not in the traditional sense. But life had taught him many lessons—hard-earned and painful. And one of those lessons was simple: never trust stagnant water. Especially in a cursed realm like this.
He glanced at Nefer. She was crouched near the edge of the water, her brows knitted in thought, eyes darting left and right as she analyzed the layout, probably counting distances or channeling her mental map.
"Is this the river you talked about?" Hope asked, crossing his arms.
Nefer exhaled slowly. "Yeah. It's the one."
Hope narrowed his eyes. "Didn't expect it to be... this?"
She stood, brushing dirt off her knees. "No. I didn't know it would be stagnant. That wasn't in the map or records."
"So we enter… and just magically reappear in the human citadel?" he asked again, unsure whether he was confirming or challenging her assumption.
"I think so," she replied, though her tone had less certainty than before.
Massa, who had been trailing silently behind them like a shadow, finally spoke. Her voice was flat and firm.
"I don't like this."
Hope turned his head toward her. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, fingers twitching ever so slightly—a tell he'd noticed before when her instincts flared.
Nefer didn't look at her. "We don't have a choice," she said. "The human citadel is our best chance. The only one, really. If we're going to conquer the Veil, we can't do it wandering blind and alone."
Water. Of all things. He could swim. But that didn't mean he liked it.
They stepped toward the edge and without another word, reached for each other's hands. Nefer on the right, Massa on the left, and Hope in the middle. If someone had seen them from a distance, it might've looked humorous—like a younger brother clinging to his protective sisters before crossing a haunted river.
He didn't laugh.
Together, they dove.
The impact of the water was surprisingly gentle. It didn't slap or sting. It welcomed them, almost too easily. And to their astonishment, the depths were crystal clear. Hope blinked in disbelief. He could see meters down without strain.
Their bodies, strengthened and refined by the Soulrealm's trials, endured the pressure and lack of oxygen with ease. Where an average human could last two minutes beneath the surface, the Awakened could endure fifteen or more. Even still, they knew they had to act fast.
The water was deep. Too deep.
They gestured to one another, the universal signal: down.
They began to descend.
Each kick of their legs brought them deeper into darkness. With each stroke, the light above dimmed. The pressure increased—not on their lungs, but around their souls. The aura here was… wrong. Choking. The very water felt saturated with corrupted energy.
Hope felt it slither down his spine like cold fingers.
Something was here.
His gut twisted. He activated his awakened ability—a passive trait he'd rarely used in full. His vision shifted, shadows receding into clearer shapes. The water darkened—but he could see.
What he saw below made his blood freeze.
A massive python, easily the length of a train carriage, lay coiled at the very bottom. Its scales shimmered with a black, oil-like sheen. But it wasn't just the size. It wasn't just the silence.
It was the aura.
It screamed corruption. Thick and pulsing like a rotting wound in the fabric of the water. This was no ordinary beast—it was a corrupted devil, one of the worst kinds. A creature that had once been something else—twisted and warped beyond recognition by the Veil.
And worst of all...
It was watching them.
Unmoving. Unblinking. Staring straight at them.
Hope's eyes widened. Panic flared in his chest.
He opened his mouth to scream, to warn Nefer and Massa to push back, to swim up, but all that came out was a rush of bubbles. Water flooded his mouth, choking the sound. He flailed for a second, waving frantically, trying to gesture—
But it was too late.
The python moved.
In a flash of motion, its body uncoiled with terrifying speed, and its massive form lashed upward like a torpedo made of scaled muscle and death.