The room was silent except for the slow drip of the Red Widow's dissolving corpse.
Alastor wiped his sword clean, his blue eyes fixed on Rey. "You're not just wandering travelers, are you?"
Rey's grip on his sword remained firm. "Who are you, and what war are you talking about?"
Alastor sheathed his weapon. "I don't have time for introductions. The Nightmare King's influence is spreading, and you're walking straight into his domain."
Rey's stomach twisted. "You mean Seth Alexander."
Alastor nodded. "He's not just trying to merge the nightmare realm with this one. He's already succeeded in some places. The closer you get to Newsville, the worse it gets."
Arinn frowned. "How do you know all this?"
Alastor's expression darkened. "Because I was one of Seth's soldiers… until I realized what I was really fighting for."
Rey and Rhys exchanged looks.
Alastor crossed his arms. "You can come with me, or you can walk into Newsville blind and get yourselves killed."
Rey looked at Arinn. They had fought monsters, illusions, horrors, but a war?
He took a breath. "Fine. We'll hear you out."
But deep down, Rey knew—this was just the beginning of something far worse.
Alastor led them north, through ruined villages and twisted landscapes where reality itself seemed to warp and crack.
They soon reached a hidden outpost, a stronghold built against the horrors of the nightmare realm.
Inside, warriors gathered—scarred, hardened survivors of Seth's reign.
"This is what's left of the resistance," Alastor said.
Rey studied the faces around him. "I thought i was done with the resistance?"
Alastor's expression was grim. "It looks like you met a portion of the resistance in Ashwood."
At that moment, a horn sounded from the watchtower.
The ground trembled.
The sky darkened.
Then, from the mist, they appeared.
Hundreds of nightmare creatures.
Shadowed warriors with glowing red eyes, beasts with twisted forms, monsters that shouldn't exist in the waking world.
Leading them was a general its figure was like a monument to forgotten wars—tall, regal, and shrouded in fractured obsidian armor that drinks in light. His tattered black cape drags behind him like a shadow trying to escape. Every plate of his armor bears ancient scars—marks from battles no one remembers, against enemies no longer alive. He simply moves, with the stillness of death and the presence of a cursed king.
His helmet is crowned with thin cracks where divine light once seeped through, now sealed shut. The aura around him isn't loud—it's cold, heavy, and absolute. Dark energy wraps around his blade like a dying storm—silent, but waiting to scream.
He is the kind of being that should be guarding a throne—but he is here, in chains unseen, carrying a blade forged from broken oaths and guilt in black armor and with black curved blade adorned with an irregular wavy pattern, evoking the image of a raging black flame, it's sharp single edge was covered by the black flames, his presence suffocating.
A general of Seth's army.
Rey gritted his teeth. "Looks like we don't have time for planning."
Alastor unsheathed his blade. "Then let's make them regret stepping into our world."
The battle for survival had begun.
Outpost
The ground rumbled as the Nightmare army advanced, their twisted forms barely visible through the thick mist. Rey's heart pounded. These weren't just monsters. They were warriors shaped by Seth's will, beings pulled straight from the depths of nightmares.
Alastor's voice was steady. "Hold the line.
No one runs."
The outpost warriors drew their weapons.
The horn sounded again.
And then- The first wave struck.
A towering creature with six jagged limbs lunged toward Rey, its body shifting between smoke and flesh. It screeched, its voice like nails in his skull.
Rey dodged just as it slammed a twisted claw where he stood, cracking the earth. He swung his sword, but it passed through nothingness. The creature grinned, reforming behind him. "Your blade means nothing here, human." Rey clenched his jaw. "Then I'll cut deeper."
He adjusted his stance, waiting for its next move.
The creature lunged again-This time, Rey sidestepped and plunged his sword straight into its core, twisting it.
The creature shrieked, its form flickering then Alastor appeared behind it, driving his blade through its skull. The monster collapsed into mist, its screech fading into the void. But that was only one. The battle raged, nightmare beasts clashing against human warriors.
Arinn fought beside Rhys, his small blade dripping with dark blood. Then, from the mist- A new figure emerged. A tall warrior clad in obsidian armor, his helmet shaped like a screaming face. The Nightmare General. He pointed his massive black blade at Rey.
"You're the one who killed the Red Widow."
His voice was empty, void of humanity. Rey tightened his grip. "You're next."
The Nightmare General charged. And the real fight began.