Zayne had seen Unravelings before. He had witnessed the moment when fiction bled into reality, where the boundaries of what was written and what was real shattered. He had even survived within them, clawing his way through the chaos, twisting the odds to his own advantage.

  But this?

  This was not an Unraveling. It was something else. Something wrong.

  His thoughts scrambled, running circles around the event that had just unfolded before his eyes. The rainbow runes—the very essence of a Story breaking through—should have continued expanding until the tale had fully manifested.

  The Conflicts they had been fighting should have remained, perhaps becoming permanent; their presence in the world solidified as remnants of a completed Unraveling. That was how it worked. That was the system.

  Gone.

  Instead, they had done the impossible. They had converged, compressed into themselves, forming that unnatural dome before collapsing into the lava in a way that defied all logic.

  This filled him with a deep, unfamiliar dread—one he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was almost nostalgic. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Zayne’s face was devoid of expression. No smirk. No frown. No anger or defiance.

  Just fear.

  Then came the change.

  The lava, which had darkened after the blinding explosion of heat, suddenly stirred. Slowly at first, like thick sludge dragging itself upward, but then—

  Too fast. Too slow. It was both agonizingly drawn out and horrifically sudden, stretching time between the prisoners and guards, forcing them to process every second of their impending doom. The molten rock coiled, condensed, rising higher and higher, shaping into something monstrous. It was sculpted by an unseen force, given form as though its very existence had been etched into the world’s design.

  A massive body.

  Massive, feline in structure, but more than that. Its forelimbs were grotesquely large, gorilla-like arms of obsidian and magma, veins of molten heat pulsing beneath the blackened stone. The jagged claws on its other arms flexed, exuding blistering heat. Its back was covered in a thick mane of flaming fur, embers dancing from its form with every subtle movement.

  And then, its eyes.

  Twin pits of raw, unrelenting violence. Not just fire, but something deeper, something primal. Rage, hunger, power—all compressed into a single, searing gaze that held nothing but pure, unfiltered destruction.

  And yet—it did nothing.

  The heat surged again, an eruption of burning air radiating outward. This time, it was worse.

  The guards closest to the beast felt their sweat evaporate instantly, their skin charring, blackening, cracking within seconds. Some staggered back in time, gasping in agony, but others—those too slow, too weak—began to burn alive where they stood. Their screams were lost in the oppressive wave of heat, their bodies crumbling into ash. The lead female guard felt something she hadn’t in years: raw, visceral terror.

  “Fall back!” she shouted, her voice sharp with barely contained fear. She didn’t hesitate, commanding the remaining beasts and soldiers to retreat toward the prisoners.

  Her movements were fast, precise, but even she couldn’t keep the tremor from her grip as she clutched her halberd. Her soldiers obeyed, some stumbling, some barely keeping upright, their bodies weakened by the heat and battle.

  Yet the beast did nothing.

  It simply stood, watching them.

  A silent, empty stare.

  At first glance, it seemed mindless. Vacant. Perhaps it was simply existing, unaware of its own destructive nature.

  But Zayne knew better. He didn't know how, but he knew. He could feel it in his bones, in the unnatural weight pressing against his soul.

  This was not an empty creature.

  It was thinking. Watching.

  And it had already decided something.

  A heavy silence stretched between the survivors and the beast, the air thick with burning dread. The lead guard, the strongest warrior present, found herself unable to properly hold her halberd, her hands slick with sweat—not just from the heat, but from the suffocating grip of fear.

  Her subordinates had lost all semblance of discipline, frozen in place, unable to act. The prisoners were worse. Some had already broken mentally, their minds shattered before their bodies could follow.

  Tamir stood rigid, dread settling deep into his bones. He had faced possible death just a minute ago, but this was different. This was beyond him.

  Beyond all of them.

  The young master? He had lost consciousness long before, passing out from pain, his mind unable to handle the sheer magnitude of what was unfolding.

  He wished he was as lucky.

  And Zayne?

  Zayne stared into the monster’s eyes and understood.

  This was it.

  Not dread. Not despair.

  Just death.

  Something inevitable. Something absolute. Something so overwhelming that he felt no urge to fight, no instinct to defy. It wasn’t resignation. It wasn’t acceptance. It was simply reality.

  There was nothing to smile at. Nothing to scowl at. Nothing to even cry about.

  Just the undeniable certainty of his own end.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The being finally moved.

  It's monstrous maw cracked open, expelling a breath so blistering that the already-melted chains fused deeper into Zayne’s skin. The searing agony barely registered. He was dead. That was all that mattered. He was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Its voice was low yet powerful, vibrating through the molten air like a decree from something beyond understanding.

  “I felt him here,” it rumbled, each syllable shaking the ground, sending cracks through the already melting rock beneath them. “Yet there is nothing.” A pause. A long, contemplative silence that made every heart still. Then it exhaled in something eerily close to disappointment. “A waste of my time.”

  Its pitiless gaze fell on the group properly, as if only now acknowledging them as individual things rather than meaningless shapes in the periphery. It observed them, scrutinizing the shivering, wounded, and burned remnants of humanity before it. The moment stretched too long—agonizing in its patience—before it sighed again.

  “Unfortunate,” it murmured, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Vermin were never meant to see me. But if I leave witnesses again, #$@#^#% will never let me hear the end of it.”

  Another pause. Another stretch of awful silence. Then, for the first time, it truly addressed them. “Children of the blue and red thieves,” it mused. “Along with… something strange.”

  Zayne’s head snapped up despite himself. What?

  The being showed no further reaction, only stepping forward. “A shame you exist in this space at this moment.”

  It sighed. “But be glad. I grant you mercy from your useless existence.”

  It moved.

  It was the most horrifying thing it had done thus far.

  Each step melted the ground into slag. The air itself burned away, consumed in the firestorm of its presence. The mountain behind them twisted, liquefying into rivers of molten rock.

  The heat did not radiate—it devoured.

  Those closest to it didn’t even have time to scream before their bodies charred, flesh and bone instantly reduced to smoking husks before disintegrating entirely.

  Panic erupted. Prisoners scrambled back against the wall, but it was useless. The ones at the front were burnt away before they could even realize they had nowhere to go.

  One guard, wide-eyed and foaming at the mouth with terror, suddenly screamed out. “IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR, I WILL NOT RUN FROM THIS ABOMINATION—” He charged forward, blade raised high. He did not make it a single step.

  A blink.

  A wisp of ash.

  Then nothing.

  More followed, as madness overtook them. They howled the Emperor’s name, raised their weapons, and charged, only to vanish into embers the moment they neared.

  The lead guard gasped, snapping out of her frozen stupor as she witnessed her soldiers burn in their own fanaticism.

  They were dying—no, killing themselves.

  And she did not know what to do.

  Her hands tightened around her halberd. They were shaking. She was shaking.

  Her mind raced, but every thought burned away under the heat, leaving nothing but a singular, mind-consuming plea.

  Emperor…

  Please…

  I know it is blasphemy, but please…

  Save me.

  Nothing.

  No answer. No miracle.

  Only the slow horror of watching her weapon begin to liquefy in her grasp.

  She inhaled sharply. The Emperor… had forsaken them.

  Or perhaps he had never been watching at all.

  She clenched her teeth. Her vision blurred in the heat, but something in her expression twisted. Something snapped.

  She turned.

  And grabbed a prisoner.

  They barely had time to scream before she hurled them forward with every ounce of strength she had left.

  A burst of fire.

  Then silence.

  Her breathing came ragged as she stood there, hand outstretched from where she had thrown them.

  Slowly, she turned to the next prisoner.

  Her mind was gone. Her faith was gone.

  All she had left was the will to survive.

  And if the Emperor would not save her—

  Then someone else would burn in her place.

  The female guard’s breath came in ragged gasps, her pupils dilated as madness overtook her. Her trembling hands found another prisoner, a man barely able to stand, and she threw him forward with all her strength.

  His scream was cut short the moment he passed the threshold of heat—the skin peeled from his bones before his entire body disintegrated into ash.

  Another. She grabbed another. A woman this time, sobbing and resisting, but resistance was meaningless. A swift, brutal motion, and she too was gone.

  The female guard’s screams mixed with her laughter, raw and cracked, her mind shattered beneath the weight of her fear. “I will not die here! I will NOT die here! The Emperor has chosen me! I HAVE PURPOSE! You filth—YOU HAVE NOTHING! You are NOTHING! DIE FOR ME! DIE FOR ME!!”

  Again and again, she repeated her actions, grasping at prisoners and flinging them into the searing air as if their deaths could form some kind of barrier between her and the approaching beast. Limbs were torn, bodies convulsed in agony, and the remaining prisoners clawed at the walls in a futile attempt to escape, only to be trampled by their equally desperate peers.

  And then, there were two left. Tamir and his unconscious young master.

  Her wild eyes locked onto the young master’s still form, and she lunged. Tamir, despite his battered state, tried to resist, tried to hold onto the only remaining piece of his wretched life. His broken nose gushed blood as he threw himself in front of his master. “NO! PLEASE—!!”

  A single, powerful strike of the guard’s gauntleted fist shattered his nose further, sending him crumpling to the ground, his vision spinning. He tried to crawl, tried to reach out—

  The young master soared through the air.

  Tamir let out a broken cry as the unconscious boy’s body vanished in a burst of fire and embers. There was nothing left. No trace. No bone. No ash. Just gone.

  Then, the guard turned to Zayne.

  He was frozen. Not in fear, not in defiance, but in something deeper, something almost inhuman. He stared, unblinking, not at her, but at the being.

  She reached for him, intent to throw him as well—but then she hesitated. Her hand trembled. Her skin blackened.

  Pain.

  Her mind barely had time to process it before the agony exploded through her. Her flesh cracked and splintered, turning charcoal black as her nerves screamed in recognition of her own impending death.

  “No… NO! NO!!”

  She tried to run, but something massive moved faster.

  A single, colossal hand wrapped around her body. Fire surged through her being as her armor melted against her skin, fusing into her flesh, lighting her up, and turning her into a writhing, burning effigy. The agony was beyond screaming, beyond words.

  The being spoke.

  “How could a child of the Blue Thief be such a coward? Dauntingly pathetic.”

  She didn’t even comprehend the words. The flames consumed her too quickly, her body blackening, breaking.

  Her hands scrabbled weakly at her belt, reaching for her beast crystals. A desperate, instinctual act. But there was nothing there. They had already turned to dust.

  In her final moments, she sobbed, her voice a raw, pitiful whimper. “I… am… worth… something… Please… Emperor, please… I don’t want to die…”

  The being crushed her into the ground.

  And then, silence.

  Only two remained.

  Tamir, unable to even lift himself from the ground. And Zayne, who stood there—motionless, blank, his eyes vacant.

  The being turned its gaze upon him.

  A slow tilt of its massive head. Curious. It stepped closer, yet the strange one did not burn. The heat melted the chains into his skin, seared his body, but the flames themselves did not consume him.

  “You. Strange one.”

  No response.

  “Why do you not burn?”

  Still, nothing.

  It leaned in, its massive snout inches from Zayne’s face. “Why do you stand? Do you not cower?”

  No answer.

  “Are you brave?”

  Silence.

  “Are you in despair?”

  Nothing.

  It did not know what to make of this. But it intrigued the being. It reached out, its colossal fingers closing around Zayne’s limp body, lifting him effortlessly. It peered into his dead, vacant eyes and understood.

  He had already died inside.

  Ah. It had been a long time since it had seen something like this. A being so utterly broken by its presence that life had already left them in every way but the physical.

  It almost smiled.

  It would definitely remember this.

  As an honor, it would give this strange one a true death. A warrior’s death.

  It placed him back onto his feet, allowing him to stand for one final moment.

  "It is such a shame, I will not learn more about what you are. Sadly, I am not as curious as !@#$%(*" it said.

  Then, the fist came.

  A thunderous impact, shattering space itself.

  Zayne’s torso ceased to exist.

  His limbs flew in different directions, arcs of blood painting the molten battlefield. His head, his arms, his legs—separated, torn from his form, scattered like discarded remnants of something that was once human.

  And as the body parts flew—

  Zayne’s mind returned.

  But it was already too late.

  He had already died.