Eidolon Nexus: The Shattered Realm: Chapter 46

A group of people wake up in video game world and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

Chapter 46 Into The Void.

Lorien and I sit in silence for a moment before he speaks. “You really okay?”

I sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push it either.

Great, us alone. Not exactly what I had planned, I think, shifting slightly in my seat.

“Now’s the time to tell him,” Shade says.

I swallow, my fingers tapping against the table. He’s right—I know he’s right—but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Lorien watches me, his usual calm expression in place, but I can tell he’s waiting for me to say something.

I take a slow breath. “Lorien, I… need to talk to you about something.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, his full attention now locked onto me. “Alright,” he says simply.

I hesitate, my mind racing. How do I even begin this?

I exhale slowly, my hands tightening into fists against my lap. This shouldn’t be so hard. Lorien is… Lorien. He’s always had my back. And yet, the words feel like they’re stuck in my throat, tangled up in everything that’s happened.

“I don’t even know how to say this,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “But I need to. Because I don’t think I can move forward if I don’t.”

Lorien doesn’t rush me. He just waits, watching with that patient, steady gaze of his. It makes it both easier and harder.

I swallow. “Kaida helped me figure something out. Something I should’ve realized a long time ago, but I was too scared to see it.” I pause, trying to collect my thoughts. “Ever since I got here, all I wanted was to be myself again—to be a guy again. That was the goal, the thing I thought would fix everything.”

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. “But when it actually happened… it felt wrong.” My voice cracks slightly. “Like something had been ripped away from me.”

Lorien’s brows draw together slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt.

I take another breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “I’m not a guy, Lorien. I don’t want to be. Artemis… she isn’t just some character, some fake identity the game gave me. She’s me.” My chest tightens. “And I know that doesn’t change the fact that right now I look like this, but it doesn’t change who I am either.”

“When we get back… that’s who I’m going to be. Not Alex. Artemis.”

I forced out the words before I could second-guess them, before the fear could creep in and steal them away. And once they’re out, I feel like I can finally breathe. Like I’ve finally said the thing that’s been clawing at me since the moment Kaida helped me see the truth.

Lorien watches me carefully, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, slowly, his shoulders relax, and he exhales.

“Alright,” he says simply.

I blink. “That’s it?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “What else do you want me to say? If that’s who you are, if that’s what you want… then that’s who you are.” His eyes soften. “I won’t pretend I understand everything, but I do know you. And I trust you to know yourself.”

A lump forms in my throat.

I’ve spent so long bracing for doubt, for questions I wouldn’t know how to answer. But Lorien just—accepts it. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back,” I admit, my voice quiet. “I don’t know what my life is going to look like. But I do know I can’t go back to pretending to be someone I’m not.”

His gaze holds mine, steady and unwavering. “Then you won’t.”

Just like that.

I let out a shaky breath, a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying easing just a little.

“…Thank you,” I whisper.

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine before curling around them. It’s not the desperate, fiery touch from before, not the urgent closeness we shared as Artemis and Lorien. But…

Lorien’s hand tightens around mine, not possessive, not desperate—just there. Steady. Warm.

“If you’re open to it… when we get back, I’d love to continue this with you,” he says, his voice calm but certain. “Us.”

My breath catches. Part of me knew he would say something like that, but hearing it aloud, spoken so simply—it still sends a shiver through me.

I squeeze his hand but glance away. “You know I’ll still look like this. Probably for a while.” My voice is quieter now, hesitant.

He doesn’t hesitate. “It’s not about how you look. That’s never been why I love you.”

My chest tightens at that. I believe him—I know he means it—but that doesn’t make it easier.

“I appreciate that,” I say softly. “I appreciate you. But…” I exhale slowly, trying to put words to the tangled mess in my head. “I’m not sure if I can be with you like this. Not until I really feel like myself.”

Lorien doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t argue. He just nods, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. “Then I’ll wait,” he says simply. “For as long as you need.”

The certainty in his voice, the patience—it’s almost too much. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my emotions in check.

“…I don’t want you to wait forever,” I whisper.

“I won’t have to,” he replies, and there’s this quiet faith in his voice, like he knows—knows—that I’ll find my way back to myself. That I’ll be Artemis again, not just in name, but in every way that matters.

I don’t know how to respond to that.

So I just hold onto his hand a little tighter.

I don’t know how I got so lucky.

In the real world, people weren’t there when it mattered. Friends who said they’d stick around faded away when things got hard. Family that was supposed to understand never really saw me. I learned not to expect support, not to rely on anyone but myself.

But here…

Lorien, Kaida, all of them.

They’re always there. Supporting me. Standing by me even when I don’t have the strength to stand on my own. Even when I’m lost, even when I don’t feel like I deserve it.

I glance up at Lorien, at the quiet patience in his expression, the steady warmth in his eyes, and something inside me eases.

“…Thank you,” I whisper, and I don’t just mean for tonight. I mean for everything.

He smiles—not the usual confident smirk, not the playful grin. Just something soft, something real.

“Always.”

“Tomorrow we start our journey to the Nexus,” I murmur, the weight of it finally settling over me. After everything—escaping the mines, figuring out who I really am, coming to terms with it—our goal hasn’t changed. We still have to reach Lyra. We still have to face whatever’s waiting for us there.

And I need to be ready.

“I should probably actually rest,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

Lorien nods, standing as well. “Good idea.” He hesitates for a second, then squeezes my shoulder lightly before stepping back. “Get some sleep, Artemis.”

Hearing him say my name like that—it still catches me off guard. But it feels right. Like a part of me is finally settling back into place.

I watch as he steps toward the door, expecting him to leave, but instead, he pauses. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

I nod. “Thanks, Lorien.”

He gives me one last small smile, then slips out, leaving me alone.

I sigh, running a hand down my face before moving to the bed. Tomorrow, everything changes. Again.

But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I know who I am.

And I’m ready.

I close my eyes and I’m in the meadow again.

The twisted one.

The grass beneath me is that unnatural shade of deep purple, stretching endlessly into the horizon. The sky churns in chaotic reds, shifting and bleeding together like an open wound.

I exhale sharply. Can’t I have one night of rest?

Then I hear it.

Laughter.

I turn, already knowing what I’ll see.

Her.

The other me.

Only this time, something’s different. She’s flickering, her form shifting and warping. One second, she’s Artemis—the face, the body, but wrong in all the ways that matter. The next, she’s Alex, but twisted, distorted, a version of me that feels just as unnatural as the dream itself.

She grins, her expression too wide, too sharp. “So you wanna be a real girl,” she mocks, her voice glitching, jumping between Artemis’s smooth tone and Alex’s deeper one.

I clench my fists. “I’m not freeing you. Just leave me alone.”

She laughs again, head tilting like I’m some naive child. “Tsk tsk.” Her form flickers wildly now, as if she’s struggling to hold shape. “You will.”

Her eyes gleam.

“How else would you get everything you’ve ever wanted?”

A cold dread crawls up my spine.

“Look at you,” she sneers, voice shifting between distorted echoes. “You’re a guy here. And in the other world.”

The words strike deep, like a knife slipping between my ribs. I hate how much they sting. I hate that she’s right.

But then—

“I can change that,” she purrs.

Her form flickers violently before settling, twisting, reshaping—until she’s Artemis.

But not me.

Her hair spills in perfect waves over her shoulders, her features sharpened to something more striking, almost inhumanly flawless. And her eyes—glowing, unnatural purple, a stark contrast to the soft green I remember from my own reflection.

She grins, predatory and knowing, like she’s already won.

I take a step back. “You’re not real.”

She tilts her head. “Oh, but I could be.” Her voice is silk and venom. “You just have to let me in.”

“Just listen to my offer, Artemis,” she says smoothly, stepping closer.

I don’t move. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

“Unless, of course…” Her grin widens, those unnatural purple eyes gleaming. “You want to stay Alex.”

My stomach twists.

I don’t. I know I don’t.

But this thing—is dangerous. It’s tied to the Nexus, to whatever darkness Shade warned me about. I shouldn’t even entertain the idea of listening.

And yet, despite myself… I don’t walk away.

“Good girl,” she croons, her voice a purr of approval that makes my skin crawl.

I grit my teeth as she steps closer, every movement fluid, practiced—like a predator circling prey that’s already caught in its trap.

“All you have to do is come to me,” she says, voice dripping with promise. “And everything you want can happen. You can be Artemis again.”

“No,” I snap.

Her grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it widens. “You’re considering it,” she hums. “I can feel it.”

I say nothing, but my silence is answer enough.

“Yes, exactly,” she presses, her tone almost soothing now, like she’s leading me to an inevitable truth. “This world—it’s just a game, right? Why not agree? Why fight it?”

I clench my fists, shaking my head. “You’re just a part of the game. You can’t affect the real world.”

She stops.

And then she laughs.

A slow, knowing, chilling sound.

Her eyes glow brighter. “Can’t I?”

She seemed so proud of herself. So confident.

And it’s terrifying.

She tilts her head, watching me with those glowing purple eyes, her expression one of amusement—like she’s savoring the moment, waiting for me to catch up.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” she says, almost lazily. “When you lost yourself back in the castle? When you nearly killed that sorcerer?”

My breath catches.

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, you did,” she interrupts, stepping closer, her voice like silk wrapping around my throat. “That wasn’t just anger. That was power. And it wasn’t from this world. It was you.”

I shake my head. “No. That was—”

She laughs again, sharp and delighted. “Oh, Artemis, you still don’t get it, do you?” She leans in, her grin splitting wide.

“I’m not just a part of this world.”

Her voice drops to a whisper.

“I’m a part of you.”

“Or at least…” She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, lips curling in satisfaction. “I will be soon enough.”

A shiver runs down my spine, but I hold my ground, clenching my fists.

“Part of me is already with you,” she continues, tilting her head, those glowing purple eyes locking onto mine. “And you just don’t know it yet.”

My breath hitches.

“No.” I shake my head, my heart pounding. “That’s not true.”

Her grin stretches wider, impossibly so.

“You made me do that,” I say, my voice raw, almost desperate.

Her laughter is soft, pitying. “No, no, no, Artemis. I didn’t make you do anything.”

She reaches out, a single finger tapping lightly against my temple.

“It was just a suggestion.”

I flinch.

“You chose to do it.”

Her words slither into my mind, wrapping around the doubts I’ve been trying to bury since that night.

~Revenge…~

The word echoes between us, thick with something dark, something familiar.

I can’t breathe.

“Come on, Artemis,” she whispers, her voice velvet-smooth, stretching my name out like a lure. “Come to me.”

The world around us flickers. The meadow twists, the purple grass wilting, the red sky darkening into something thicker, heavier.

And then—

Flashes.

I see something—no, feel something.

Dark. Deep. Buried within the world itself.

A cavern of writhing shadows. An ancient, pulsing force, something vast and hungry. A door shrouded in light.

And at the center of it all—

A figure.

Waiting.

A whisper scrapes across my mind, not from her, but from whatever lies beneath this world.

“Soon.”

I stumble back, gasping for breath.

She watches me with a satisfied smile. “You felt it, didn’t you?” she purrs. “You’re already connected, whether you admit it or not.”

I clutch my head, trying to push it away, trying to force myself to wake up.

I can’t let this happen.

I won’t.

The figure shifts.

The darkness peels away in slow, curling tendrils, revealing her.

Me.

Or—not me.

But Artemis.

She stands in the center of it all, bound by chains that pulse with a sickly glow. Her hair drifts around her as if caught in some invisible current, her skin illuminated by the faint, eerie light of the Nexus itself.

Her head tilts up.

And her eyes—

She looks at me, expression unreadable, but something flickers behind those unnatural eyes. A knowing. A recognition.

The bound Artemis slowly lifts her head higher, and then—

She smiles.

“Trust me,” she purrs, stepping closer, her voice thick with honeyed temptation. “It’ll feel sooo good.”

The bound version of me watches, still smiling, as if she already knows how this will end.

My stomach twists, but I force myself to stand firm.

“No.” My voice is sharp, cutting through the thick air of the dream. “I don’t care what you offer me. It’s not happening. I’m not freeing you or anything like that.”

The other Artemis lets out a dramatic sigh, tilting her head as if I’m the one being unreasonable.

“Are you sure?” she asks, voice lilting. “You could have everything.”

The chained Artemis shifts slightly, her expression unreadable. The shadows coil tighter around her wrists.

“Everything,” the other me repeats, stepping behind me now, her voice at my ear. “Your body. Your ‘true self.’ No more waiting. No more struggling. Just one little choice, and you could have it all…”

Her fingers trail lightly over my shoulder, featherlight, wrong.

I shove her off.

“I said no!”

My voice rings out, stronger this time, and for the first time, her smile falters.

Just a fraction.

A flicker of something—annoyance? Frustration?

And then, just like that, she exhales and steps back, smoothing out her perfect, twisted version of my form.

“Fine,” she says lightly, shrugging. “For now.”

The bound Artemis meets my gaze again, the smile still there. Unshaken.

As if she’s waiting.

The world around me begins to blur, fading—

And then I wake up.

I jolt upright, gasping for breath, the dream still clinging to me like a second skin. My heart slams against my ribs, my hands gripping the sheets so tightly my knuckles ache.

The air in the room feels too thick, too heavy. My pulse pounds in my ears.

And then—

“This isn’t good.”

Shade’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and urgent.

I swallow hard, trying to steady myself. “No kidding,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. I press my palms against my face, trying to shake the images away—the other Artemis, those glowing purple eyes, the chains.

I can still feel her watching me.

Shade doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he finally does, his voice is lower, more serious than I’ve ever heard it.

“He’s getting stronger.”

“What do you mean he’s getting stronger?” I ask, my voice still rough from sleep—if I could even call it that.

Shade’s presence coils around me like a whisper in the dark. “The thing in the Nexus. The one you saw. It’s not just waiting anymore. It’s reaching more.”

A shiver runs through me. I think of those chains, the way they pulsed like something alive, the way she smiled at me like she already knew how this would end.

Shade continues, his voice tight with urgency. “If you want to get Lyra, you’ll need to do it fast and get out. The longer we’re there, the harder it’ll be to resist the connection.”

I swallow hard. I don’t have to ask what he means by connection. I felt it. That pull, that whispering presence curling around my thoughts, promising everything I’ve ever wanted.

And worst of all… a part of me wanted to listen.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand down my face. “Great,” I mutter. “No pressure or anything.”

Good thing we’re already prepared to leave, I think, pushing down the lingering unease curling in my stomach.

I grab my things, slinging my pack over my shoulder before stepping out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway of the inn. The scent of old wood and faint embers from the hearth downstairs drifts through the air, grounding me—reminding me that I’m still here, still me.

For now.

I shake off the thought and make my way downstairs. The others are already waiting.

Kaida is leaning against the bar, arms crossed, looking half-asleep but still managing to look effortlessly put together. Veyron sits beside her, flipping a dagger between his fingers in practiced motions. Hrothgar is finishing what looks like a massive breakfast, his usual easygoing demeanor masking the tension we all feel.

And Lorien—

He’s the first to notice me. His eyes meet mine immediately, searching, and I know instantly that he can tell something’s wrong.

I force a smirk. “What? You all look like you’re heading to a funeral.”

Veyron snorts. “Give it a few hours.”

Kaida rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get moving before I start thinking of reasons to stay.”

I nod toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Because if Shade is right—

We’re already running out of time.

The map’s arrow points west—the only real marker on it, more like a compass than an actual guide. No landmarks, no paths, just a silent pull in the direction of the Nexus.

Like it wants us to find it.

I don’t know if that thought is comforting or terrifying.

With our supplies packed and weapons secured, we step out of the inn and into the cool morning air. The city is already stirring, merchants setting up their stalls, guards making their rounds, the usual hum of life continuing as if nothing is wrong.

But for us, everything is about to change.

We move as a group, walking through the cobbled streets toward the city gate. Hrothgar takes the lead, his broad frame naturally parting the foot traffic ahead of us. Veyron and Kaida walk close together, their usual banter oddly subdued. Lorien stays just a step behind me, his presence steady, silent—but I feel his eyes on me.

I don’t look back.

I can’t.

We reach the gate, where a pair of guards eye us as we approach. I tighten my grip on my pack. No turning back now.

“We ready for this?” Kaida mutters.

No one answers right away.

Then, finally, I exhale.

“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go.”

And we step through the gate.

The city fades behind us as we step onto the open road, the towering walls shrinking with every step. The sun is just beginning to rise higher, casting long shadows across the dirt path stretching west.

For a while, none of us speak. The weight of what we’re walking toward lingers, unspoken.

The Nexus.

Lyra.

Him.

I grip the strap of my pack tighter, my mind still tangled in the dream, in those glowing purple eyes staring back at me—my eyes, but wrong. Shade’s words echo in my head.

“He’s getting stronger.”

I push the thought aside. Focus on what’s in front of me.

The terrain ahead is mostly open fields, with sparse clusters of trees dotting the landscape. According to what little we do know, the Nexus isn’t marked on any map. No villages nearby, no ruins to hint at what we’re heading toward. Just a vast, empty stretch of land that eventually leads to… something.

Hrothgar eventually breaks the silence. “How far do you think we have to go?”

I glance down at the compass-like map. The arrow still points west, unwavering. “No clue. It doesn’t show distance, just direction.”

“Yep,” Veyron mutters. “We could be walking for days.”

“Or we could run into something very soon,” Kaida adds, her fingers sparking faintly with energy. “I don’t like how empty this is.”

She’s right.

Lorien shifts closer to me, his voice low. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

I nod slightly, keeping my expression neutral. “Yeah.”

We keep moving.

The wind picks up, rustling through the grass. A chill runs down my spine—not from the cold, but from something else.

A pressure in the air.

Like we’re being watched.

The others keep walking, their conversation shifting between strategy and lighthearted banter—Kaida teasing Veyron, Hrothgar making some offhand remark about how this is probably the last decent weather we’ll have for a while.

But I barely hear them.

Because the feeling is still there.

A weight pressing against the edges of my mind, subtle but suffocating, like a hand just barely touching my shoulder.

Watching.

Waiting.

I scan the horizon, forcing my breathing to stay steady. Nothing’s there. Just the open fields, the winding dirt path stretching ahead, the occasional lone tree swaying in the wind.

But that doesn’t mean nothing’s out there.

Shade stirs, his presence curling around my thoughts. “You feel it, don’t you?”

I swallow hard. “Yeah.”

“Good. That means you’re still aware enough to fight it.”

I almost stop walking. “Fight what?”

No answer.

But the feeling doesn’t change.

It just lingers.

Like he knows I can feel him.

And he’s waiting.

~Artemis.~

The whisper slithers through my mind like a breath against my ear, too close, too real.

My heart lurches. I whirl around on instinct, my hand flying to my bow—

Nothing.

The road stretches empty behind us, the wind rustling the grass. My friends keep walking, oblivious.

I swallow hard. Shade?!

“Just ignore it,” Shade says immediately, his voice sharp, urgent. “Don’t let it in.”

Easy for him to say. It’s already here.

I clench my jaw, forcing my feet to keep moving, but the whisper lingers, coiling through my thoughts, slow and deliberate.

~You’re almost there.~

I grip my bow tighter, fingers trembling.

~I’ll be waiting.~

I don’t like this.

The whisper fades, but the weight of it lingers, crawling beneath my skin, settling in my bones. My pace doesn’t slow, my expression doesn’t change, but inside, my mind is racing.

And I can’t help but think—

Shade isn’t telling me everything.

He’s warned me. He’s given me pieces. But never the full truth.

He’s getting stronger.

You need to move fast.

Just ignore it.

It’s always just enough to keep me going, to keep me afraid, but never enough to understand.

I press my lips into a thin line, my fingers tightening around my bow.

I need answers.

But right now, I need to focus.

I force myself to breathe, to keep moving. The road stretches on ahead, the arrow on the map still pointing west.

Whatever’s waiting for us at the Nexus…

It already knows I’m coming.

“Don’t you guys think it’s weird there’s been no animals?” Lorien asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Usually we see a few birds or squirrels, but today…”

He trails off, glancing around.

I hadn’t even realized it until now. The silence. The absence.

The fields stretch endlessly around us, the wind shifting the grass in slow, rippling waves. But there’s no birdsong. No rustling in the underbrush. No distant chittering of small creatures darting between the trees.

It’s empty.

Like everything else knew better than to stay.

My fingers twitch toward my quiver. “Now that you mention it…” I say carefully, scanning the landscape.

Kaida frowns. “That is weird.” She narrows her eyes at the sky. “Even when we were in that forest, we still saw some small animals occasionally.”

Hrothgar adjusts his axe, shoulders tensing. “Could be something ahead. A predator, maybe?”

Veyron scoffs. “Then where are the signs? No tracks, no nests abandoned in a hurry. It’s not just that the animals are hiding.” He glances at us. “It’s like they were never here at all.”

A chill runs down my spine.

The others are just now noticing it, but I’ve felt it since we left.

The weight in the air. The whisper at the edge of my mind.

This isn’t normal.

“Maybe it’s a dead zone,” Veyron suggests, his tone casual, but there’s an edge to it. “Maybe creatures can’t survive here. Or maybe they just… never programmed any in.”

The words settle over us, heavy with unspoken implications.

I glance around again, as if expecting to see something—a single bird in the sky, a stray rabbit darting through the grass. But there’s nothing. Just the wind, the empty fields, and that ever-present, unnatural stillness.

“No creatures,” Kaida mutters. “No towns. No roads, even.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t like it.”

“Join the club,” Hrothgar grunts, his fingers flexing around the handle of his axe. “If this place is a dead zone, then what the hell is keeping us out?”

We all fall silent.

Because he’s right.

If nothing can survive here, if nothing was made to exist in this place—

Then why do I feel like we’re being watched?

“Maybe the reason they can’t survive is because of something that is here,” I say, the thought slipping out before I can stop it.

The words hang in the air, heavier than I meant them to be.

Kaida grimaces. “Yeah, great. Love that theory. Let’s keep walking toward it.”

Veyron exhales sharply. “You know, for once, I actually agree with her.”

Hrothgar rolls his shoulders, his usual easygoing expression absent. “If that’s the case, we’ll deal with it when we find it.” His grip tightens on his axe. “Or when it finds us.”

Lorien stays quiet, his gaze scanning the empty fields like he’s expecting something to emerge from the silence. He’s been on edge since we left, and I know him well enough to recognize that he feels it too—even if he hasn’t said as much.

Shade stirs in the back of my mind, his presence coiling tighter.

“Something is here,” he murmurs. “And it’s watching.”

A shiver runs down my spine, but I force my expression to stay neutral.

The others don’t know.

They can’t feel it.

And I don’t want them to.

The ground trembles.

It’s subtle at first—just a faint vibration beneath my boots, so slight I almost think I imagined it.

Then it comes again. Stronger.

The others stop walking.

“…Did anyone else feel that?” Kaida asks, glancing around.

Before anyone can answer, the trembling turns into a full-blown quake. The dirt path cracks, loose stones rattling as the earth beneath us shudders with something massive.

I stumble, barely catching my balance. “Okay—that’s not normal.”

Hrothgar yanks his axe free, eyes scanning the horizon. “Everyone stay sharp!”

Veyron is already moving, daggers in hand, while Kaida’s fingers crackle with fire. Lorien steps instinctively in front of me, spear at the ready.

The trembling stops.

A silence even heavier than before settles over us.

Then—

The wind shifts.

And something moves in the distance.

“What the hell?” Veyron mutters, taking a cautious step back.

Something moves again—a ripple through the tall grass, too far to make out clearly, but big. The kind of big that sets off something primal in my gut.

Then the ground trembles again. A slow, rhythmic pulse.

Not an earthquake.

Footsteps.

Kaida curses under her breath. “Please tell me that’s just some freak weather event and not—”

A deep, distant groan rolls through the air. Not human. Not anything I recognize.

I swallow hard. “I don’t think we’re that lucky.”

Lorien shifts his stance, grip tightening on his spear. “We need to move. Now.”

Everyone starts running without any argument.

“Where exactly are we heading?!” I shout as we sprint, my boots pounding against the earth.

“There’s no trees, just grass! Nowhere to hide—unless you want to crouch in this and hope whatever that is doesn’t see us!”

No one has an answer.

Because there is no good answer.

The land stretches endlessly in every direction, nothing but tall, swaying grass and open sky. No cover. No cliffs. No ruins to duck into.

We are exposed.

Another thud shakes the ground, closer this time. My breath hitches. Whatever it is, it’s closing in.

“Options!” Hrothgar barks, his voice tight but steady. “We need a plan!”

Veyron glances back, curses under his breath. “Yeah, preferably one where we don’t get stomped into the dirt.”

Shade’s voice is suddenly in my head, low and urgent. “Keep moving west. There’s something ahead. I don’t know what, but it’s better than stopping.”

Not reassuring.

But it’s all we’ve got.

“West!” I shout, pushing myself harder. “Just run!”

“Which way is west?!” Kaida shouts, her voice sharp with urgency.

“Just follow me!” I yell, gripping my bow tighter as I push forward, feet pounding against the trembling ground.

Behind us, the heavy thuds are getting closer. The air feels thicker, the weight of whatever is chasing us pressing down like a storm about to break.

I don’t look back. I can’t.

The ground trembles harder with each thud, the vibrations crawling up my legs, threatening to throw me off balance. Whatever’s behind us—it’s huge. And it’s fast.

I keep my eyes locked on the map, following the arrow, willing it to lead us to something—anything—that isn’t just endless, open fields.

Ahead, the terrain starts to change.

The grass thins. The ground dips slightly. A faint shimmer catches my eye, just barely visible in the morning light.

Water.

A river.

“There!” I shout, pointing. “There’s a river up ahead!”

“A river? And then what?!” Veyron snaps between breaths.

“No clue, but it’s better than nothing!”

Kaida groans. “I swear, if there’s some water monster—”

“Not the time!” Hrothgar barks.

We push harder, sprinting toward the river as the thuds behind us grow deafening. The air shifts—a rush of displaced wind, a presence so massive I can feel it looming.

I can’t help it.

I look back.

And my stomach drops.

Rising above the tall grass, a massive, shifting form moves toward us—black as shadow, its shape flickering like smoke, but dense, solid. It doesn’t move like an animal. It ripples, its limbs forming and reforming as it closes the distance.

And its eyes—

Glowing purple.

~Don’t run.~

The voice slithers into my mind again, smooth, coaxing.

~I just want to bring you to me.~

A violent shudder rips through me, but I grit my teeth and shove it down.

Not happening.

I force my legs to move faster, pushing through the burning in my lungs. The others are still running, still unaware to the voice clawing at my thoughts.

The river is getting closer—maybe a hundred feet out. I don’t know if it’s deep, if we can cross it, or if we’ll have to follow it for miles, but right now it doesn’t matter.

Because that thing is still coming.

Another thud, another ripple of shifting, flickering darkness.

“How is this gonna help, Shade?!”

I half expect him not to answer, like usual when I ask something important, but this time, his voice snaps through my mind almost instantly.

“Because it’s not just a river.”

Not just a—

We break through the last stretch of tall grass, and suddenly, I see what he means.

It’s not just a river.

It’s a drop.

The land cuts off abruptly, the river rushing through a deep gorge below. The water churns violently against jagged rocks, the current fast and unforgiving. The cliff’s edge is uneven, crumbling in some spots, no easy way down.

Kaida skids to a stop just before the edge. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Veyron curses under his breath. “Great plan, Artemis. Just lovely.”

Hrothgar turns, axe at the ready. “No time to argue. Either we find a way down, or we fight.”

I spin around. The thing is closing in fast, its massive, shifting form blotting out part of the sky behind it.

And the voice slithers into my mind again, honey-sweet, almost amused.

~Nowhere left to run, Artemis.~

“You need to jump, Artemis.”

Shade’s voice is sharp, cutting through the chaos in my mind.

I stare down at the raging river below. The drop is steep, the water thrashing against jagged rocks. A bad landing could break bones. Could kill us.

“Have them jump too. I’ll catch you.”

I don’t have time to think.

“Jump!” I shout, whirling to face the others. “Now!”

Veyron stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you insane?!”

“Jump or die, pick one!” I snap.

The thud behind us is deafening now. A wave of pure wrongness ripples through the air, and suddenly, I feel it—closer than before, the weight of its presence pressing against my mind like a vice.

Lorien doesn’t hesitate. He grabs my wrist, his eyes locked onto mine. “Together.”

I nod.

And then we jump.

The wind roars past my ears as we plummet. The world tilts, spinning in a blur of blue sky and rushing water. My stomach lurches, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs.

For a split second, panic claws at my mind.

What if Shade can’t catch us? What if this was a mistake?

Then—

Darkness erupts around me.

Shadowy tendrils lash out from nowhere, coiling around me, around Lorien, around the others. The fall slows—not instantly, not gently, but enough. The impact is still hard—the river slams into me, cold and violent, but it doesn’t break me.

I’m alive.

The current is fierce, yanking me under for a terrifying second before I break the surface, gasping.

A splash—then another. The others hit the water one by one, Shade’s influence dulling the worst of the fall.

I hear Kaida choking out a string of curses between breaths. Veyron is already trying to swim toward the riverbank. Hrothgar surfaces, shaking water from his face, eyes wide with adrenaline.

Lorien is right next to me, his hand still gripping my wrist like he never intended to let go.

But there’s no time to celebrate.

Because above us, standing at the cliff’s edge, the thing watches.

And it is waiting.

Then I hear something else...

Not the river. Not the pounding of my own heart.

Them.

The creatures from the mountain.

I whip my head around, my breath catching in my throat. Rising from the mist above the river, perched along the rocky gorge, they emerge—silent at first, shifting and writhing like liquid shadows given form.

The horde of dark masses. Their tendril-like limbs swirling around.

Then, one of them turns its head toward me.

Glowing purple eyes lock onto mine.

A jagged, crooked grin spreads across its face, stretching too far, splitting its entire head in two.

And then it screams.

A piercing, unnatural screech that shreds through the air, vibrating in my skull. The water around me shakes from the force of it.

“These ones aren’t disconnected from him,” Shade warns, his voice sharp in my mind. “Which makes them more dangerous.”

More dangerous than the ones on the mountain. The ones that easily could’ve killed us.

A fresh surge of panic claws at my chest, but I shove it down. I don’t have time for fear.

“Stay in the water!” I shout, kicking hard against the current. “We can’t outrun them!”

No one argues for once luckily.

The river is brutal, dragging us downstream, but it’s better than the alternative. The creatures don’t dive in immediately—they prowl along the gorge, shifting and watching, their glowing purple eyes locked onto us.

I have to hope the rushing water, combined with swimming, is enough.

That they won’t risk following us in.

But then—

One of them leaps.

It doesn’t hesitate. It doesn’t stop at the edge of the cliff to consider the drop, the current, the force of the water. It just moves, its writhing mass twisting mid-air, tendrils stretching out toward us.

I barely have time to react before it slams into the river.

The impact sends a shockwave through the water, a massive splash rising like a wave around us. For a split second, I lose sight of the others—everything becomes white foam, rushing current, and that piercing, unnatural screech.

Then I feel it.

Something grabs my ankle.

Cold, slick, wrong.

I thrash instinctively, but the grip tightens, yanking me downward. My head dips beneath the surface, the roar of the river muffling into eerie silence.

Through the churning water, I see it—too close, its purple eyes burning like fire beneath the river, its grin even wider than before, rows of jagged teeth gleaming in the refracted light.

More shapes move above—more of them jumping in.

The river was supposed to keep us safe.

Now it’s our trap.

I struggle, twisting and kicking, my lungs burning as I shake my leg violently, trying to break free.

The creature’s grip tightens, its tendrils coiling like living ropes, pulling me deeper. The pressure builds in my chest, panic rising with it.

No. No. No.

I thrash harder, my free foot connecting with something solid—or maybe not solid at all. The creature shudders, its form rippling like smoke. For a split second, its grip loosens—just enough.

I tear myself free.

It lunges again, but this time, it snags—caught on something beneath the water, its limbs tangling in the jagged rocks.

I don’t wait to see if it gets loose.

I kick upward, my arms burning, my lungs screaming.

I break the surface just in time, gasping, dragging in a lungful of air.

The river carries me forward, rough and fast, but I don’t care—I’m alive.

I whip my head around, searching—

The others are ahead.

Kaida, Veyron, Hrothgar—Lorien.

They’re still swimming, still fighting the current.

And the creatures—

More of them are in the water now.

What do we do?!

We can’t fight them. We can’t outrun them.

We only survived before by sliding down a mountain—and even that didn’t fully work.

I try to think, try to push past the panic hammering in my chest. Options, Artemis. We need options.

Shade stirs in my mind, his presence a cold whisper. “There’s one way.”

I don’t like the way he says it.

What way?!

“Deeper.”

My stomach drops.

No. No way. We’ll drown.

“Not if you trust me.”

I hesitate—just for a second. But a second is too long.

Because behind me, I hear that screech.

And it’s right on top of us.

The screech rips through the air, too close, too loud.

I don’t think—I can’t think. The creature is right behind me, its tendrils reaching through the water, twisting, grasping—

“DEEPER!” Shade shouts in my mind, his voice not a whisper this time but a command.

“Follow me now!” I shout as loud as I can
before sucking in as much air as I can and diving down.

I keep going, kicking down, down, down—the river’s current grabbing hold and dragging me with it.

The others—please tell me they followed—

I open my eyes against the sting of the rushing water. Shapes move above, distorted by the surface—Kaida, Veyron, Lorien, Hrothgar—

They’re following.

And so are the creatures.

But something’s wrong.

The deeper we go, the darker it gets—too dark, unnatural. Like the light above is being swallowed.

And then I see it.

Below us, in the river’s depths—

A gaping void.

A tear in the world itself.

And we’re being pulled into it.

The river isn’t just dragging us downstream anymore.

It’s pulling us in.

The darkness yawns beneath me, deeper than the river should ever go—wrong, like a wound torn open in reality itself. I thrash, trying to fight against it, but the current is too strong, yanking me downward, twisting around my limbs like unseen hands.

The others—Kaida, Veyron, Lorien, Hrothgar—they’re all caught too, their silhouettes struggling above me, sinking fast. The creatures follow, their forms rippling like living shadows, drawn to the void just like us.

I can’t breathe. My chest burns.

“Shade—what is this?!”

“A door,” he says, his voice eerily calm. “You can either fight it and drown… or go through.”

“A door?! A door to where?!”

The void takes us.

And then—

Everything goes black.

End of chapter 46.