In the Abyss

  Inside the Demon Castle, King Jini sat in his chamber, quietly reading a book.

  Suddenly, the door burst open and a messenger demon flew in, shouting,

  "KING JINI! URGENT NEWS!"

  Jini immediately set the book aside, his full attention now on the frantic demon.

  "What is it?" he asked as the messenger landed before him and kneeled.

  "My king, it’s urgent—it's about the Nexus Kingdom!" the messenger said, his voice trembling.

  Jini’s expression hardened.

  "What happened to Kingdom Nexus?" he asked, worry rising in his tone.

  "It was destroyed, my king. They attacked and left," the messenger reported.

  "Those mana-less beasts attacked? And wiped the kingdom out that quickly?" Jini said, shocked by the news.

  "Mana-less beasts?" the demon repeated, confused. "My king, it was the Dusk Kingdom who that attacked."

  Jini frowned. "Kingdom Dusk? No. They had no involvement in this. It was the mana-less beasts. You brought me that information yourself—perhaps you’ve forgotten."

  "My king," the messenger said carefully, "you must remember—the meeting was about forming a defense pact. Whenever Kingdom Dusk attacked one of us, the other three would join in defense."

  Jini sighed and shook his head. "No, no… that’s not what we agreed upon. The pact was about defending against the mana-less monsters. You were the one who told me about them." He leaned back, his face weary. "The sad part is, they wiped the kingdom out too quickly for us to send help. I’m disappointed in myself."

  The messenger demon stared in disbelief. 'That’s not what I reported', he thought. 'I remember clearly—it was about Zil Yung training his army to start a war. Why doesn’t King Jini remember?'

  "You may leave now," Jini said, dismissing him with a wave.

  The messenger hesitated, about to speak and correct the king—but something deep inside him told him not to. He bowed silently and left the room.

  Outside, confusion and dread filled his mind. He decided to go to Kingdom Alvans, where all major news was distributed. If such a catastrophic event had truly happened, it would be all over the headlines.

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  In Kingdom Alvans

  The messenger demon flew into Alvans Media with the same urgency that had driven him across the skies. The media hub was a sprawling building of stone and glass where scrolls, bulletins, and broadcasts converged—news from every kingdom arrived here first. He burst through the doors, scavenged the latest edition, and found himself staring at the front page.

  *Kingdom Nexus Destroyed.*

  Bold letters, a map burned at the edges, survivor counts still rising. The lead story described entire districts razed, a capital in flames, priests and nobles listed among the missing.

  He stared harder, hunting for the detail that would vindicate his report—Zil Yung, the Dusk Kingdom, mobilized forces. He skimmed the paragraphs until his eyes snagged on the key line: '"Mana-less beasts ravaged the city."' No mention of Kingdom Dusk. No mention of human armies. The paper repeated the same impossible version the king had insisted on: a brutal assault by creatures without mana.

  A cold confusion tightened his throat. He tried to drag his memory back to the day he left Dusk—to recall the words he had told King Jini all those months ago. He reached for the thread of memory and felt it slip away. Then, he began think deeply—but the movement of his mind stilled as if something else had cupped it, holding it quiet.

  He folded the paper with trembling claws and left the building. Outside, the city’s air tasted like soot and ink. He shouldered the weight of the inconsistency and climbed toward a desolate hill overlooking the valley. The landscape below, a dense forest, and the sky above seemed too empty for the news it bore.

  Alone on the wind-blasted crest, the messenger demon stood very still. Panic bubbled under his skin—questions crowded his mind like locusts—but his thoughts, stubborn and rehearsed a moment ago, had gone mute. He did not fall into silence by choice; the stillness simply took over, patient and complete.

  Then the motion began.

  He moved like a clockwork thing, methodical and strangely calm. He pressed his hands to his chest, and the trembling of the air around him matched his own. He began to tear at his body—not with the frenzied flailing of a cornered animal, but with a measured, mechanical precision that made the scene feel worse: not accidental violence, but a performance carried out on himself.

  There was a wet, awful sound that made his teeth ache and the world tilt. Blood painted the grass where he worked. He kept working, breath ragged, words turning into raw, inarticulate sounds. His face contorted between agony and a detached focus. The sound of metal and flesh meeting and the dull thumps of his body against the earth filled the air. For anyone watching from the valley, it would have looked like a slow, terrible collapse of a being stripped of every last possession of himself.

  Finally, with a last shudder, he fell forward and lay still. The wind carried away the last of his scream.

  No one rushed up the hill. No one came to stop it.

  In the Ruins of Nexus

  I woke up surrounded by ruins.

  The ashes of my homeland.

  I slowly stood up, looking around at what was once the heart of Kingdom Nexus. Buildings lay shattered. The air was thick with smoke and silence.

  I made my way towards what used to be my house—now only a crumbling shell of memories.

  Each step across the broken floor made debris shift beneath my feet. As I looked around, flashes of the past played in my head—my family laughing, peace in the streets, life as it once was.

  And now… it was all gone.

  I searched through the wreckage and found a small bag—still intact despite the destruction. Inside, I discovered a few bronze, copper, and silver coins, along with two gold coins.

  'That’ll be useful,' I thought, putting them into the bag.

  As I searched further, I found a scythe—a bit taller than me, but light enough to drag along. I decided to keep it with me.

  I looked for food or water but found none. Then I searched for clothes, but everything was either burned or torn to shreds.

  Eventually, I stopped searching and stepped back outside, dragging the scythe behind me. The metal scraped against the uneven stone ground, making a harsh, echoing sound.

  Outside, I saw survivors—few and scattered—being tended to by Necfars.

  I decided to keep my distance. Drawing attention now wouldn’t help.

  So I turned, looked once more at the smoking ruins of my home, and began walking.

  Toward the Kingdom of Alvans.

  My journey had begun.