Mitch settled into the darkness of his own mind. The pull of Agony’s Embrace’s healing capability felt like a heavy hum. The souls carried within him churned around the serpent’s soul almost ritualistically, pressing it forward as an offering. It was contained, this monstrous presence, but thrashed with feral energy, barely restrained by the other souls crowding around it.

  Sable sat at the front of the cavern, watching the tunnel. Warrick traveled further up, ensuring nothing got too close. Mitch wasn’t concerned. The mice he still controlled with Dominion of Shadows scouted and held positions in shadows. Their dark fur provided cover. The small minds sent back the all clear. Nothing lurked towards them. At least for now. Only the persistent scratching that constantly plagued them.

  Urgar snored beside him.The dwarf slept off the worst of his injuries, and Mitch noticed again how quickly his wounds closed. Deep gashes and bite marks visible on his hands and neck, as the rest of him was covered in soot-covered plate armor, were already covered in fresh pink flesh.

  If he doesn’t have a healing skill, if they’re that rare, how is he healing so fast?

  Mitch steadied himself, trying to focus on the flesh within his Vault. He drew it out of his Abyssal Vault and applied it with Agony’s Embrace, directing it towards his stump.

  Settlement Amount: 37 Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108(-1) Flesh

  Warmth spread over his cut flesh. Mitch felt Rex relax as the flesh knitted over, sealed. Rex, ever present in his mind, loosened his tight grip, appearing as a swirling black shirt retreating upwards and sending Mitch a wave of quiet relief.

  Mitch looked down at what he’d rebuilt: a new surface of skin, pale and thin. Thankfully intact over the halfway point of his forearm.

  I don’t need Rex to keep from bleeding out. That’s step 1.

  Mitch took a breath and tried again. He attempted to apply more Flesh from his Abyssal Vault to finish the growth. Agony’s Embrace resisted, halting him mid-command.

  Shit. Knew that was going to happen.

  Frustration gripped him as he directed his focus to the serpent’s soul. The powerful creature still seethed within. It writhed like an animal sensing slaughter, thrashing against the other soul's bindings. He latched onto it and for the first time, tried to use a soul to heal himself.

  Nothing happened. His Abyssal Vault flat-out rejected it, and Agony’s Embrace held him at an impasse.

  Is it because the soul is a beast soul? Is that why?

  He considered his soul sword for a moment. Maybe the serpent’s soul belonged there. But something in him hesitated, a tugging awareness from past memories that it was the wrong decision. The Soul Sword was wasted on a simple beast. Something in his body told him that better things could be done with the weapon.

  Nagging at the back of his head, memories floated upwards. He knew he could use a regular soul instead. It would work, he could feel it. Another intuition from his Affliction Skill told him that it would vanquish the soul, wiping it from existence.

  The memories, the experiences–everything that person once was would be extinguished for good. All for a hand.

  The souls stirred. A few of them pressed forward in eager sacrifice, withdrawing their hold on the snake’s soul. Mitch’s chest tightened. It was a bitter ache that twisted with the temptation of his need. He tried to ignore them, tried to convince himself that he could endure with only a single arm. Yet even without the cold rationality of Devoid, he knew he would need to be whole to survive.

  One soul broke away from the rest, stepping forward with a sense of calm resolve. Mitch knew that it understood the true cost.

  Mitch felt his throat tighten. His hand trembled as he mentally reached for the soul. His mind grappled with the decision. Whispered gratitude escaped his lips in a murmur. He tapped into the soul’s energy, and it shattered. A life spent in a single moment.

  A rush of memories invaded his mind as he felt his arm begin to regrow: a young boy, gaunt and hungry, scrounging through garbage in an alley of Shadowreach. Brilliant blue flames devouring his home. A smoldering scar where a family once lived. Citizens not even waiting a day to claim the burnt space. A desperate dive into the solace of Grimlace. The memories broke apart, leaving Mitch hollow.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Settlement Amount: 36(-1) Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108 Flesh

  Tears flowed down Mitch’s face, and he cried silently. Looking down, a fresh layer of muscle and bone was at the end of his arm. It was still incomplete.

  Another soul pressed forward. Its essence was one of quiet acceptance. Mitch’s chest burned with grief as he tapped it. Raw, visceral echoes of another shattered life plagued him for what felt like ages.

  With each memory, his arm grew bit by bit. And each soul gave a piece of themselves. As the ninth soul broke, he finally let out a whimper to accompany his tears.

  This…this is why the other’s didn’t last.

  He clenched his jaw, muttering his grief as he reached for the tenth, and hopefully final, soul. He vanquished it. A final surge of memories washed through him–pain, struggle, small joyful glimmers amidst a life mostly suffered.

  But his arm was whole again. He stared at it in awe. The flesh was pale, clean. Scars still layered his skin. Apparently those were permanent, even in regrowth.

  Least my arm is whole.

  Settlement Amount: 27(-9) Souls, 1 Beast Soul, 0 Credits, 108 Flesh

  The souls within him were quiet. Even the bestial soul seemed calmer at the witnessed sacrifice.

  Agony’s Embrace pulsed with newfound power as a notification was sent to him.

  Affliction Skill Upgraded

  Agony’s Embrace

  Level 5(+1)

  Pain is power. Harness every drop of suffering, turning agony into unrelenting strength. Your torment permanently fortifies your body and amplifies your strength.

  Your acceptance of pain strengthens your resolve.

  Consume Souls or Flesh to heal your Body

  + Power over life. Power over death. Souls may fuel what flesh alone cannot. Sacrifice the willing and rebuild what was lost.

  Mitch wanted to throw every emotion into Devoid. But he let himself feel the weight of what he had done. At least for a moment, he would bear the weight of his actions without assistance.

  The hollowness in his chest throbbed. A weight far too deep for words. Devoid itched in his mind like a warm, waiting embrace.

  He gave into it. Shoving the guilt and the emotion into Devoid, he forced himself back to cold rationality. The sorrow lingered at the edges, a phantom ache that he couldn’t shake. Even logic has its limits.

  Beside him, Urgar snored. Oblivious. Mitch turned over, and caught Sable’s red and yellow eyes staring at him. Her gaze was concerned, and then it swept over his fully healed arm.

  “You…you’re whole,” she murmured, a relieved smile breaking over her face. She rushed over and threw her arms around him. The warmth of her embrace hit him. It was a balm against the chill of Devoid, and what he had done.

  Mitch let himself savor it, the simple comfort of being close to someone.

  His heart fluttered slightly at holding her small frame. She might be patched together from different bodies, but Mitch couldn’t help view her as a woman.

  A small smile made its way onto his face as he drew strength from her closeness. Letting Sable’s embrace linger a few moments, Mitch felt something unfamiliar swell in his chest.

  A craving. A pull for something that defied the violence and darkness surrounding him. In her arms, he felt real. The words came to him unbidden. Carrying a raw honesty that even Devoid couldn’t suppress.

  “Hold on, Sable,” he murmured into her shoulder. “Just for a moment.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  She stiffened for a fraction of a second, but then her grip tightened around him. Her fingers brushed against his newly healed arm, tracing the skin with gentleness that surprised him. His breath hitched as he felt her fingertips press into fresh muscles.

  “We’ll have to move soon,” she murmured, glancing back over her shoulder. “The Abyssal Hag isn’t going to kill herself.” She pulled away, and Mitch missed her embrace already. Sable gave a small smile, but her expression turned to one tinged with worry. “I’ll go get Warrick.”

  And just like that, she was gone from his touch. Mitch’s gaze lingered on her retreating form. Bitterness prodded him, but he threw it into Devoid. He wouldn’t let his emotions erase the warmth she left behind.

  The Abyss tugged at him. His tie with his Skills provided temptations of power, of survival through cruelty, but something about Sable’s touch made him want to find a way to keep this moment intact.

  Suddenly, he was acutely aware of Rex’s watching presence. Now that they were connected, he knew that Rex could feel his thoughts. It almost felt like the Shadowshroud was lapping his tongue at him, amusement leaking through their bond.

  Don’t watch me all the time, you weirdo.

  He swore he could feel the Shadowshroud harumph and pull from their connection. Rex went back to a waiting beast he wore like a shirt.

  His fresh hand drifted to his Soul Sword, his thoughts darkening slightly. The serpent’s soul pulsed in his Vault. Trapped and waiting. If his memories told him the snake’s soul wasn’t meant for the sword, it must be meant for something else.

  A beast’s soul could serve a purpose, couldn’t it?

  Mitch glanced at Urgar. Shallow, healthy breaths, mixed with snoring. He knew they would be descending further into the Abyss soon. Mitch would let the dwarf sleep as long as possible.

  Standing up, he tested his new arm, and waited for Sable and Warrick to return.

  It was time to delve further into the Abyss.