The forest they had plunged into reminded Astar once again that he was most definitely not on Earth. Towering trees with bluish foliage stretched hundreds of meters into the sky, their thick, moss-covered trunks radiating an ancient, immovable presence. Their canopies were dense, like branching threads shimmering in blue-green hues. The filtered light created soft, flickering patterns across the forest floor, which was blanketed in thick moss and enormous leaves.
Astar ran, doing his best to stay on his feet, but he couldn’t ignore how drastically different this forest was from anything he'd seen back on Earth. Each step felt like a new revelation—unfamiliar, twisted plants; massive glowing flowers casting a faint blue luminescence; even the gnarled roots intertwined to form intricate patterns.
Insects buzzed through the air, producing strange sounds he’d never heard. Some resembled glowing beetles, others—bizarre creatures with wings like they were spun from silver threads. One hovered right in front of his face for a moment, emitting a deep vibrating hum before flitting away.
"This isn't Earth. This is another world," he realized once again, and the thought struck him with renewed force. "A real other world. And I’m here, running through its forest, trying not to die. Shit!"
Dalanar, who was leading the way, suddenly turned and shouted over his shoulder, cutting through the relative stillness of the woods:
“Faster! Don’t slow down! This forest isn’t as safe as it looks!”
His words spurred the group into quicker motion. No one wanted to find out what might be lurking deeper in this beautiful, yet clearly dangerous place. The tension was building—the air itself felt heavier. Every rustle of leaves, every snapping branch made heads turn.
Astar passed a cluster of drooping plants whose long leaves seemed to sway despite the still air. His heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t let himself falter.
“Run. Just run,” he repeated in his head, gripping the bloodstained pickaxe still clutched in his hands. “Don’t think about what’s behind. Don’t think about what might be ahead.”
The dense forest began to close in around them, hiding them from the fading light of the barrier and cloaking them in uneasy solitude. But with that came the creeping sensation of being watched—like unseen eyes tracked every movement.
When they had finally run far enough—at least it felt like enough—Dalanar came to a halt. His sharp gesture brought everyone else to an immediate stop. Heavy breathing and pounding hearts echoed in Astar’s ears, and his legs nearly gave out beneath him. Like the others, he collapsed against the trunk of a towering tree.
The air was thick with both fear and relief. Some of the prisoners dropped flat to the ground, leaning weakly on their pickaxes or looted swords. One covered his face with trembling hands, trying to grasp the reality that they had truly escaped—that they actually had a chance to live.
“We love death. But I, for one, don’t wanna die… Good thing we made it out of that damned mine,” rasped one of the escapees, his voice shaking as if even he didn’t believe the words. He belonged to one of those strange skeletal races.
Astar still knew nothing about the species that inhabited this world, or how it all worked. Ever since gaining knowledge of the local language, he’d kept up his act as the mute fool and avoided drawing attention. Dalanar had also told him to keep his mouth shut, promising to explain everything if they survived.
No one responded to the skeletal man’s comment. No one smiled. The joy of freedom quickly gave way to a heavy sense of dread. The forest, though it hid them from their pursuers, radiated a quiet, ominous presence. Or perhaps it was the fear of the unknown—the terrifying, boundless unknown that this world held.
Astar sat hunched forward, trying to steady his breath. His hands still trembled, and behind his eyes flashed the images he couldn’t forget. Death. The pickaxe striking down. Blood, cracking bone, the shatter of armor. That head—blown apart in a spray of gore…
His stomach churned again. He clamped a hand over his mouth but knew there was nothing left to come up. Everything he could have vomited was already left behind on the stone floors of the mines.
“I killed,” echoed in his mind. “I killed someone. A living, thinking being. And not just once.”
He lifted his gaze toward the others. Some looked just as dazed as he was. Others remained oddly calm, as if none of this touched them personally. But deep down, Astar knew—they were all equally shaken.
He clenched his teeth, trying to push back the wave of weakness crashing over him.
“You survived. You had to. There was no other choice,” he repeated to himself, though the words rang hollow. Inside, everything continued tearing apart.
Dalanar, noticing Astar’s state, stepped closer. His expression showed something resembling concern, though his hardened stare tried to hide it. He crouched beside Astar and said quietly,
“You did well, Astar. Everyone’s shaken right now, but we’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
Astar looked up. He wanted to reply, but the words caught in his throat. His lips trembled, and his fingers were still clamped around the pickaxe’s handle like it was the last thing holding him together.
But before Dalanar could say anything more, a new sound rolled through the forest—a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate straight through their bones.
“Graaaaar!” The leaves of the nearest trees shuddered, and the insects that had been buzzing peacefully just moments before vanished all at once.
“Shit…” Dalanar muttered, his eyes narrowing. He straightened abruptly, as if preparing for something.
“Everyone up! Now!”
His voice was firm, but carried a sharp edge of alarm. The others, though exhausted, began to rise. No one dared question him—tension had gripped them all like a vice.
“That was an abyssal’s roar,” he snapped, turning to the group. “It’s close. Probably caught our scent. If we don’t want to end up dead, we need to move. Now!”
He strode quickly to Astar and tore the pickaxe from his grip.
“You won’t need this anymore,” he said, pulling one of two swords from his belt—clearly scavenged from the overseers. He thrust it into Astar’s hands. “Can you handle this?”
“I…” Astar felt the weapon’s weight—it was even heavier than the pickaxe. He didn’t know the first thing about sword fighting, but arguing was pointless now. “I’ll try.”
“Try like your life depends on it,” Dalanar said coldly. “If that abyssal comes at us, you stay back. Follow my orders. When I say ‘now’, strike for the head. Hard. Don’t hesitate—or we’re all dead.”
Astar nodded, sweat already trickling down his back.
“Move!” Dalanar shouted to the others. “And remember—no roads! Stay in the forest! Stick together!”
The group began to move again, suppressing the dread gnawing at their nerves. Astar ran near the back, feeling the sword’s weight in his hand and keeping his eyes locked on Dalanar’s back. The growl came again—closer this time—and something rustled deep in the underbrush.
“Run,” Astar ordered himself silently. “Run and don’t look back. You don’t want to see that damned monster!”
“There are plenty of caves beneath this forest!” Dalanar shouted over his shoulder, trying to rally them. “Once we find one, we can rest!”
They kept running. The forest seemed to come alive with ominous rustling and snapping twigs. Each fugitive did their best to keep pace, avoiding the roads as instructed. Slowly, the abyssal’s roars began to fade, and tension began to ease—just a little.
Astar felt his heartbeat start to settle, though every cell in his body remained coiled like a spring. At some point, he even dared to think they might’ve gotten away. Maybe the abyssal had lost their trail… maybe they hadn’t been seen at all.
But the relief was a lie.
“Shuuuv!” Suddenly, from behind a nearby tree trunk, a massive black shadow lunged forward.
Time seemed to slow, and Astar saw it—an enormous monster landing in a single leap beside one of the unfortunate fugitives. In that moment, he couldn’t move. He could only watch as the creature’s jaws clamped shut around its prey.
“Chvrk!” came the sickening crunch.
Astar’s eyes flew wide, dread shooting down his spine like ice. The thing rebounded with a guttural snarl, landing in their path—cutting off escape.
Astar stared at the black beast that now stood before them. It loomed on four massive limbs that ended not in paws, but clawed hands disturbingly similar to human ones. Its shape vaguely resembled a beast, but there was no neck—its body flowed straight into a huge, grotesque head. At the center of that head was a single, massive eye… one that held multiple pupils, each gazing in different directions. And that gaze… it radiated hatred. Pure, boundless hatred and insatiable hunger.
The main jaw yawned open directly beneath the eye, packed with crooked, blade-like fangs, currently clutching the half-devoured body of its victim. Every time the mouth opened wider, clouds of black mist poured out, and thick droplets of oily black saliva fell to the ground—sizzling violently as they burned away the grass beneath.
“What the hell is that…” Astar muttered, stumbling a step back.
The victim the monster had pounced on hadn’t even had time to scream. Their body convulsed as the beast tore into their flesh. Crimson blood spilled down its jet-black maw, dripping onto the forest floor. The creature let out a vile, wet chewing noise, clearly relishing its prize.
“Gods,” someone whispered behind Astar. The voice trembled, hollow like that of a ghost.
Astar tried to look away, but couldn’t. His legs felt welded to the earth, his eyes locked on the horror unfolding before him.
“That’s an abyssal,” he realized. “A real abyssal! And we’re supposed to fight that thing?!”
As always, Dalanar was the first to snap back into action. He drew his sword and spun toward the group.
“We’re in trouble! This one’s powerful!” he barked, his voice cracking through the haze like a whip. “Surround it! I can’t break its defense—but if we hold it long enough, Astar can land a strike!”
For a moment, the fugitives froze, their faces etched with panic and despair. But Dalanar’s commanding voice, filled with strength and certainty, spurred them into motion. Everyone understood—running was pointless. The monster would catch them long before they could get far.
“Don’t just stand there like fools!” Dalanar snapped, pointing his blade at the abyssal. “That’s not a humanoid—it’s a beast-type. And it only recently reached the Premarch level. That means it’s dangerous, but not impossible. Only strike if you’re sure you can dodge! The goal is to distract it—hit and retreat!”
Reluctantly, the others began to spread out, forming a loose circle around the beast. They held swords, pickaxes, anything they could use as weapons. Astar still stood rooted in place, clutching the sword Dalanar had given him. His hands shook violently, and his mind screamed one word: “Run! Run while you still can!”
“Astar!” Dalanar grabbed his shoulder and gave him a hard shake. “We need you! When I give the signal—strike the head. You’re the only one who can pierce its defenses. Got it?!”
“I…” Astar wanted to say no, to shout that he wasn’t made for this. But then he saw the look in Dalanar’s eyes—the same confidence that rang in his voice. He swallowed and nodded. “Got it.”
The monster, having finished its first victim, slowly lifted its massive head. A guttural growl rumbled from deep within its throat. Its twisted eyes scanned the ones surrounding it, and a grotesque grin spread across its warped face—as if it was savoring their fear.
“Now!” Dalanar shouted. “Circle and distract it!”
The fugitives charged. Their movements were frantic, but they followed the plan. One darted forward and slashed with a pickaxe, the metal biting into the beast’s flank—but barely scratching it. The abyssal roared in irritation and lunged, only for another fighter to land a blow across its tail, drawing its attention away.
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It swung toward the second attacker, but he rolled away just in time. Two more rushed in from the sides, striking quickly and retreating before the monster could retaliate.
Dalanar, watching the pattern unfold, barked out,
“Keep it up! Don’t give it room to move! Astar, be ready! We’re opening a gap—you need to finish it!”
“What the hell is this life? Just a few years ago I was sitting in an office!” Astar cursed inwardly, trying to turn fear into fury. “Now I’m hunting monsters?! What the hell is happening to me?!”
He stood just behind the fray, gripping the sword so tightly his fingers had turned white. His hands trembled. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to break free. The battle ahead looked like something out of a fantasy novel—except it was real. Terrifyingly real. The others kept striking, always retreating immediately. Their movements were rough, untrained, but the plan was working—they were keeping the abyssal distracted.
But the thing was too fast.
Those twisted “hands” with their clawed, human-like fingers kept slashing the air, tearing into any attacker who didn’t move fast enough. One screamed as claws ripped across his side, collapsing in the grass. Another raised his pickaxe, but the beast spun and drove its tail straight through his neck.
Blood sprayed. The prisoner crumpled like a broken doll, and the monster flung his body aside before turning back to the group with a thunderous roar.
In mere minutes, their numbers had already shrunk.
Astar saw it all. His mind reeled with terror, but something else had begun to spark inside him. Not just anger or desperation—but a clear realization.
“Screw this. They’re giving me a window. That means it won’t see my strike coming. I just need to bury this damn blade in its skull!”
“Astar!” Dalanar roared. His voice boomed like thunder. “Now! Hit it! We’ve opened the gap!”
Every muscle in Astar’s body tensed like a coiled spring. He inhaled sharply—then sprinted forward.
Time slowed.
He saw the monster turning, its massive eye focusing on its next target—but too late. He saw the blood streaking its face, the fire smoldering in its maw.
Astar screamed, pouring into that cry all his rage, fear, and strength. He swung the sword, and his entire body moved as a single, unified force.
Shuuv! The blade bit and sank into the monster’s skull with such force that a wet crunch rang out, mingled with the sound of splintering stone.
Black blood gushed from the beast’s head, splattering Astar’s face and chest. The creature let out one final roar that faded into a rasp, and its massive body collapsed onto the ground, sending a faint tremor through the earth.
Astar froze, still clutching the sword that now sat halfway embedded in the monster’s head. His legs trembled, his breath was ragged. He stepped back, released the hilt, and fell hard onto his rear.
"I… I did it," he whispered, not believing his own words. Strangely, killing this beast didn’t bring with it the same sickening cocktail of horror and revulsion that had flooded him when he killed sentient beings.
The black blood spread around him, poisoning and soaking the grass, and the beast didn’t move again. Its skin began to sting at his own, prompting him to instinctively wipe it off with the rough, filthy sleeve of his clothes.
Inside Astar, everything was tangled: terror and relief, shock and triumph. His heart pounded, the ringing in his ears drowned out the sounds around him, but the feeling of victory gradually filled his mind. He had killed that thing. He—someone who not long ago believed himself weak and powerless—had slain an abyssal. And in that moment, something strange stirred within him… He almost liked the feeling of his newfound power.
“Damn! Nicely done, Astar!” Dalanar shouted. “That big bastard probably has a core in him! You know what? Once we get to the city, we might even make a profit, ha-ha!”
Astar spun toward Dalanar. His face still showed traces of fear, but a nearly crazed smile broke across his lips.
“Incredible! We did it!” he yelled, raising his hand in the air. “We killed it! We—!”
His voice stopped. The entire world seemed to freeze in that instant. Astar’s eyes widened, and his joyful expression twisted into one of horror.
He saw them — leaping silently and ominously from the dense shadows of the forest behind Dalanar came three abyssals at once. They resembled the one he had just killed, but one among them was far more monstrous in both size and form. Its body was broader, its clawed hands more massive, and from its gaping jaws spilled an even denser stream of black flame.
It was nearly twice the size of its kin. Its ribcage looked like it was made of exposed bones, from which black fluid dripped. Its pupils, glowing with a crimson light, locked directly onto Dalanar.
Time slowed. Astar watched as the enormous creature, with a single leap, landed directly behind Dalanar. One of the prisoners shouted out in a desperate attempt to warn him, but the voice was lost, drowned out as if the world had gone mute.
Dalanar turned, sword already at the ready, but even he didn’t have time to fully comprehend the scope of the new threat.
“Dalanar!” Astar screamed, his voice filled with terror.
But the warning came too late. That monstrous maw, lined with jagged fangs, lunged forward, crashing down on Dalanar like the hammer of fate.
Clack!
The sound that followed was wet, muffled, and unbearably loud in Astar’s ears. In a single instant, the monstrous creature clamped its jaws around Dalanar’s body, then violently twisted its head to the side.
Dalanar’s body — just moments ago brimming with energy and resolve — was torn in two. Blood and entrails burst in every direction, soaking the ground beneath them. His face, which only a heartbeat earlier had radiated confidence and fighting spirit, froze with a strange, almost joyful smile. He hadn’t even had time to register what happened. Or perhaps, he simply refused to believe it—after all, meeting such powerful abyssals on these roads was supposed to be nearly impossible…
Astar stood frozen, his feet rooted to the earth. He stared at the crumpled body of his only ally as it hit the ground. Everything inside him turned to stone. His mind screamed, refusing to accept what had just happened.
But that was only the first blow.
The remaining abyssals surged forward. Their attacks were lightning-fast, lethal, and terrifyingly graceful. Claws tore flesh, fangs ripped through bodies. The screams of prisoners filled the forest, mixing with the deep growls of the monsters. Crimson blood flowed in rivers, turning the grass beneath them into a thick, sticky mire.
One of the smaller abyssals pounced on a prisoner with a sword, knocking him flat before tearing out his throat. Another lunged toward a separate group, easily bowling people over and sinking its teeth into their chests. It was a massacre. No one stood a chance against their power.
But the one that frightened Astar the most was the largest of them. Its movements were slower, yet radiated a terrifying confidence. It didn’t rush. It moved as if savoring the slaughter, as if declaring: “You’re already dead. Just accept it.”
From this creature emanated an indescribable aura, pressing down on Astar with such crushing force that his body began to tremble. It was the same sensation he had felt when he saw the Gray Mnemarchs back in the mines.
"This is impossible... According to Dalanar, monsters like that shouldn’t even exist here… I can’t fight something like that. None of us can!"
At some point, one of the fugitives, screaming in desperation, rushed the enormous monster—but the creature merely snorted, and from its maw, like a dart, a black spike shot forward. The impact was so powerful that the man’s body was flung backward and pinned against a tree trunk.
In that moment, Astar understood one thing: they were doomed.
"Run," flashed through his mind. "The only chance to survive—run!"
His legs began to move on their own. He didn’t even realize he’d left his sword lodged in the corpse of the monster he had slain. All he could do was flee, never looking back, while hell tore the forest apart behind him.
Astar ran as if death itself was chasing him. His heart thundered, his legs carried him forward, but his mind was still drowning in terror. Behind him he heard screams, the crunch of bones, and monstrous growls—but he didn’t dare turn around. Fear was stronger than curiosity.
The silence didn’t last. Branches cracked and a dull thudding filled the air behind him, growing louder with every second. Astar risked a glance over his shoulder—and immediately regretted it.
The massive monster had chosen him as its prey.
Its eyes, glowing crimson, were locked onto him, and its colossal body moved with terrifying ease. Each of its steps made the earth tremble. But the worst part wasn’t its size—the abyssal wasn’t rushing after him. It wasn’t sprinting. Its pace was slow, almost leisurely, like a predator savoring the hunt.
"He knows… He knows I can’t escape..." Astar realized.
Then, like a bolt of lightning through his skull, the truth hit him: the creature saw something in him. Something he didn’t yet understand. Something that made him more than just a target—made him the most desirable prize.
"Memoria," he guessed, choking on the lump in his throat. "It has to be the memoria. This thing sees it—feels that I’m stronger than the others—and it wants to devour me! Shit! God, help me!" The horror pushed him to pray, even though he’d never been particularly religious.
The monster picked up speed, and a fresh surge of adrenaline flooded Astar’s body. His legs moved faster than ever, but the forest conspired against him. Branches tore at his clothes, roots clawed at his feet, and every breath felt like fire in his chest.
"Just run! Run! But where?!" he shouted in his mind, trying desperately to push back the rising panic.
Behind him came a low, drawn-out growl that seemed to vibrate through the air, making the trees shudder. It wasn’t just threatening—it was brimming with anticipation. The beast was enjoying the chase, absolutely certain of how it would end.
"What a ridiculous chain of events," Astar thought bitterly, crashing through the dense undergrowth, trying to lose the monster. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how absurd everything had become.
"I sold my company. A successful goddamn company! I was supposed to relax, to enjoy peace!" Rage and fear twisted inside him, forming a boiling storm. "I dealt with endless legal bullshit and negotiations… and when it was finally all behind me, I got sucked into this cursed new world! Slave labor, mines, memoria, abyssals… and now I’m about to be some monster’s lunch! Is this the gift my parents left me?! You asked for my forgiveness? To hell with you!"
"Even in this world, you're still shitty parents!" he shouted with burning resentment and fury.
That terrible sound filled his mind again—the crunch of bones, the screams, the predator’s growl. It chased him even now, making his heart skip beats. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep running. His legs were turning to jelly, his breath was ragged, and his chest burned with pain.
"I don’t want to die! Not like this! Not now! My whole life would’ve been for nothing!" Astar screamed inwardly, finally realizing just how far he’d strayed from the life he truly wanted.
And then… he saw it.
Up ahead, nestled between two jagged rocks and hidden behind thick brush, was a small hole. It was barely wide enough for a man of average build—if that. Astar didn’t have time to weigh the risks. Something deep inside told him it was his only shot.
"Can I fit in there? What if it’s a dead end?! Doesn’t matter. I have to try!"
He poured every last ounce of strength into his legs, hurling himself forward toward the rocky opening. A few more steps—and the cave opened before him, far too narrow to walk into. He’d have to dive headfirst or feet-first.
"Shit!" Astar cursed, not slowing down.
Behind him came a thunderous roar. The monster must have noticed the maneuver and was now charging full speed, closing the gap with terrifying speed.
"Come on, come on, damn it!" Astar screamed inwardly, pushing his body past the limit and bracing for the leap.
He pushed off the ground with both feet, launching himself into the narrow opening feet first. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Astar felt the air around him grow dense, as if the cold shadow of death itself was catching up to him.
His line of sight shifted, and what he saw made his blood run cold. The monster’s gaping maw, full of jagged fangs, was already closing in to devour him. Its eyes blazed with crimson light, and black smoke poured from its throat, filling the air with a nauseating stench of rot and burning flesh.
The creature’s fetid breath hit Astar’s face—hot, searing, reeking of blood. It was too close, too real, too inevitable. Time stretched into an eternal moment.
“This has to be some sick joke…” flashed through Astar’s mind as the jaws began to snap shut around him.
But in that instant, his body crashed into the opening. Astar felt his shoulders scrape the edges of the stone entrance, the cold rock tearing at his skin—but he didn’t stop. With a desperate burst of strength, he hurled himself into the cave, his head vanishing just as the monster’s teeth clamped shut—on nothing but air.
CLACK! echoed behind him—and in the next instant, the world shook.
BA-BAAM! The monster slammed into the rock with a thunderous crash, sending stones tumbling around the cave’s mouth. The booming impact echoed through the forest, silencing the smaller creatures in terrified stillness.
Astar was stunned, overwhelmed, his mind reeling to make sense of what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he had escaped death. All he could feel was the weight of his own body—and a sudden, terrifying lightness beneath him.
"I… I’m alive?" he thought—just as he realized he was falling.
The opening he had leapt through wasn’t a passage—it was the mouth of a vast cavern. Darkness yawned beneath him, and the sensation of freefall seized him completely. Wind whipped past his face, and his chest tightened with fear.
“No-no-no! Don’t tell me there’s more!” he screamed internally, plummeting into the unknown.
There was only darkness. The rushing howl of air filled his ears, and the occasional flash of reflected light on the stone walls confirmed that he was spiraling downward.
The fall lasted just seconds—but for Astar, it felt like an eternity. He didn’t even have time to scream before he hit—
SPLOOSH!
A heavy splash echoed through the cavern as he plunged into freezing, biting water. The cold engulfed him instantly, silencing all sound and snatching the breath from his lungs. The shock was blinding—but one thing mattered above all: he hadn’t been shattered on the rocks. He was still alive.
Astar kicked and thrashed, forcing his body upward.
Khg-aah! He burst through the surface, gasping desperately, choking on air and water. Waves rippled outward from his flailing limbs as he frantically looked around, blinking and wiping his face.
"Light!" he shouted silently.
He saw it—he had landed in an enormous underground lake, the cavern stretching dozens of meters in every direction. High above, the ceiling disappeared into shadow, but the walls and roof were dotted with faintly glowing stalagmites and clusters of strange mushrooms. They gave off a cool, silvery light like moonlight, casting ghostly reflections across the water’s surface. And more importantly—they allowed him to see where he was.
He looked around and spotted it—a shoreline. A narrow patch of ground, slick with wet stones and dotted with luminous fungi, lay nearby. Without hesitating, he paddled toward it, each stroke burning his tired muscles.
When he finally reached the bank, his feet touched solid ground and he dragged himself onto land, collapsing in a trembling, gasping heap. His breath came in ragged gulps, his entire body shivering from cold and exhaustion—but he was alive. He had survived.
“To hell with this world… and to hell with my parents! If I make it to a damn city, I’ll do whatever it takes to carve out a safe, comfortable life for myself… Screw everything else…” he muttered between gasps, trembling with cold and fury.
Catching his breath, he slowly lifted his head and looked around. His eyes, adjusting to the dim light, picked out more details—this cave wasn’t just a dead end. In several places, tunnel-like openings yawned into darkness, natural corridors big enough to walk through upright.
"An exit," he thought. "Maybe one of these leads outside?" he dared to hope.
He wanted to feel triumph, to rejoice that he had narrowly escaped death. But instead, he felt only a heavy, crushing weight inside him. He had no idea what awaited him next—but one thing was certain: even if he made it out of the cave, he would still have to survive that damned forest. And after everything that had happened, he wasn’t even sure he had the courage left to face the world above.
