Chapter 116: A Warning

  Marcus and Vira stepped through the portal...

  And reality broke.

  Marcus didn’t fall.

  Vira didn’t fall.

  But they were falling. Not down, not up, but inward.

  Their thoughts, their senses—they unraveled, stretched into thin, meaningless threads that spun through infinity.

  Who am I?

  Where was I before this?

  The questions echoed, but they had no answers.

  Their bodies flickered between existence and nonexistence, shifting through dimensions they could not perceive.

  Their pasts and futures blurred, until—

  Marcus and Vira slammed into something solid, their minds snapping back into awareness like taut strings released from unbearable tension.

  They gasped for air—but had they been breathing before?

  Their senses reeled, their bodies struggled to reorient themselves in a space that shouldn’t exist.

  The chaos of their entrance faded, replaced by a world that was...

  too simple.

  Too perfect.

  Marcus rose to his feet.

  Then, he rose to his feet again.

  And again.

  And again.

  His body reset itself infinitely in the same movement, like a skipped frame in time. A thin, creeping panic gnawed at his thoughts, but he shoved it down.

  Not now.

  Beside him, Vira clutched her head. "Marcus… something’s wrong."

  Everything was wrong.

  They stood upon an endless path of smooth, white stone stretching beyond the limits of comprehension.

  Not multiple paths.

  Just one.

  There was no sky.

  No horizon.

  No sun, no moon.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Only the path.

  Vira turned sharply, searching for the portal they had stepped through. But behind them—The same path stretched, endless.

  Marcus spun on his heel, his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

  Left.

  Right.

  Below.

  Above.

  The same.

  Everywhere.

  No way back.

  Marcus swallowed. The air was too still. His breath had no echo.

  It was as if this place swallowed the concept of sound.

  "Stem," Marcus called internally, forcing his mind into coherence. What do we do?

  Stem’s voice was steady, too steady. "You must go forward."

  Marcus frowned. "Forward? I see no end."

  Stem paused...

  Finally, he spoke: "I don’t know how to explain this, Marcus, but in this space, the concept of time does not exist. You must walk forward. You will, and never will, reach your destination."

  Marcus' breath hitched.

  "You will, and never will…"

  His mind fought to make sense of it.

  Vira shook her head violently. "This is wrong."

  Marcus exhaled sharply. "It doesn’t matter if it’s wrong." He met her gaze, anchoring himself in her reality, her presence. "If we have to walk, then we walk."

  She took a steadying breath. "Right."

  Together, they moved...what felt like...forward.

  Their steps were infinite.

  Each time Marcus placed his foot down, it felt as though he had taken a million steps and none at all.

  The path didn’t move beneath them.

  Or maybe they weren’t moving at all.

  Vira whispered, "Every time I take a step, it feels like I’ve gone somewhere…but I can only perceive what’s around me." Marcus clenched his jaw. "I feel it too."

  They walked.

  And walked.

  And walked.

  Were hours passing? Were eons passing? Are we aging?

  A sick dread pooled in Marcus’s stomach. What if there was no end?

  What if it had already ended?

  Then—

  "Welcome, little light."

  The words shattered across their minds like an earthquake in reality itself.

  Vira gasped, clutching her ears. "Marcus—where?!"

  The voice was nowhere and everywhere.

  Neither male nor female.

  Neither soft nor loud.

  Neither kind nor cruel.

  Marcus spun wildly. “Where are you?!”

  A slow, indulgent chuckle.

  ..."I'm right here."

  They turned—

  And it was there.

  A celestial monstrosity.

  Divine and hellish.

  Androgynous and unknowable.

  It had four wings—feathered in light and dripping with the void.

  It lounged upon a chaise of impossible craftsmanship, folded lazily against an invisible throne of existence itself.

  And in its cupped hands, it held something alive—a liquid that was and wasn’t.

  It sipped from it, as if drinking from the fabric of reality itself.

  Marcus couldn’t breathe.

  Vira collapsed immediately, her body buckling under the impossible pressure of its presence.

  Marcus staggered, every nerve screaming subjugation.

  His vision blurred at the edges.

  His soul itself trembled.

  He summoned everything he had—Ki, Mana, Psycha—flaring his power at once.

  The pressure lessened slightly.

  But the being barely noticed.

  It took another casual sip, golden light dripping from its lips.

  And suddenly—

  They were in a room.

  An ornate golden box, without windows or doors.

  No—not arrived.

  They had always been here.

  Marcus' breath came in short, ragged bursts.

  The being sighed contentedly, setting aside its drink.

  "You’ve found me again, little light."

  “What the hell are you talking about?” He gritted his teeth. “We’ve never met.”

  The being smiled, as if hearing a joke it had heard a thousand times before.

  "Oh, we've met. We always do."

  Marcus’s heart pounded in his chest.

  His thoughts were fracturing, his mind screaming to reject the impossible truth behind the being’s words.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled, forcing himself to stand his ground. “But we’re going to end you. We’re going to stop your siege on our world.”

  The being laughed.

  Not cruelly. Not mockingly.

  But genuinely.

  "You defeat us?" It grinned, eyes gleaming. "You never do, little light. But it is always fun watching you try."

  Marcus gritted his teeth. “We’ve already defeated one of you.”

  The being stretched and sighed dramatically. "You mean my brother?" It waved a hand dismissively. "You and your...little companions didn’t beat him. You merely stalled his arrival. You only faced a speck of his power."

  Marcus’s mind raced. A speck?

  The being smirked. "But honestly, our battles—you, me, and my brethren—are among the few things we look forward to during our waking hours. It makes the monotony of reshaping worlds…enjoyable."

  Marcus felt a pit in his stomach.

  This thing was talking about destruction as if it were a game.

  His voice was hoarse. “Why do you keep calling me ‘little light’? How do you know me?”

  The being leaned forward, its gaze piercing into him.

  "You? I don’t know you." It smiled, slow and deliberate. "I know your power. I have tasted its robust flavor many times.

  A golden Tongue licked across the beings lips.

  The light of hope upon my tongue is always... refreshing."

  Marcus felt cold.

  Vira, finally able to withstand the being’s aura, forced herself to her feet, her staff trembling in her grip.

  Marcus clenched his fists. "I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but we’re going to end you, Here and now! We’re going to close your portals."

  The being laughed.

  Not amused.

  Excited.

  "We will fight in—what is that word again?" It tapped its chin genuinely thinking. "Ah, yes—‘time’."

  Then, its expression darkened.

  "But not yet."

  It raised a hand.

  Reality collapsed.

  Marcus and Vira had no time to react—a force unlike anything they had ever felt slammed into them.

  Their bones broke.

  Their skin burned.

  As if the very concept of kinetic force itself had slammed into them.

  The world twisted.

  Colors bled together.

  Then—

  Darkness.

  When Marcus and Vira opened their eyes, they were back in their world.

  Outside the dungeon portal.

  Whole.

  Untouched.

  As if nothing had happened.

  Marcus gasped, his body trembling. Vira clutched her chest, her breath ragged.

  They turned to each other—unable to speak, unable to comprehend.

  Then—

  A whisper seeped from beyond the dungeon portal.

  "Get stronger, little light. Our coming is almost nigh."