Nightmare of the Abyss

The silence of the cavern no longer pressed down on him. Instead, an eerie stillness stretched across the landscape before him.

Cold, dry air swept against his skin as he stepped forward.

The ground beneath his feet wasn't normal. Not stone, not soil. It was fractured, yet smooth—like glass that had been melted, then solidified in the aftermath of some great fire. Faint crimson veins pulsed beneath its surface, dim and slow, as if the land itself still breathed.

His eyes lifted.

The sky was wrong.

There were no stars, no moon, just an expanse of swirling darkness, shifting too fluidly to be natural. Something about this place clawed at the edges of his mind, an unshakable sense that reality itself had been warped into something unnatural.

Where the hell am I?

Breathe. Stay calm. Observe. Adapt.

He forced himself to scan the horizon. Jagged rock formations twisted into impossible shapes, broken ruins scattered across the distance—crumbling pillars, shattered archways, skeletal remains of something that once stood tall. Civilization had been here once.

And now, it was dead.

His fingers twitched at his side. That creature from before—it wasn't human. Which meant…

He wasn't alone in this world.

A sound.

Soft. Faint.

But real.

He turned sharply.

Not far from him, half-hidden behind a fallen structure, stood a figure.

A person.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The stranger was young—their age, maybe. They were wearing a leather jacket, stained with dust and something darker. Their stance was cautious, one hand hidden beneath the fabric, gripping something. A weapon? Their eyes, sharp yet uncertain, flickered with the same wariness he felt in his own chest.

A survivor.

But that didn't mean they were a friend.

The silence stretched.

Then, the stranger exhaled. "…You're real."

Their voice was hoarse, cracked from disuse—like they weren't even sure they believed their own words.

He studied them carefully. "You were expecting something else?"

A dry, humorless chuckle. "After what I've seen? I don't even know anymore."

So they had encountered something, too.

He took a slow step forward. The survivor tensed. Their grip beneath the cloak tightened.

"Relax," he muttered. "I'm not looking for a fight."

The stranger's eyes narrowed but didn't back away. "Good. Because I don't think either of us knows what the hell is going on, and I'd rather not add more to the list."

Not a threat, then.

He let out a breath, tension easing—just slightly. He had expected, maybe even hoped, that whoever he found would have answers. That they would know something, anything, about where they were. But this person wasn't an enemy. They weren't a guide, either. Just another lost soul, thrown into this abyss without warning.

A gust of wind passed between them, carrying the scent of something metallic.

Iron. Blood.

Not fresh. This place had seen violence before.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

The stranger hesitated. "…I don't know."

His brows furrowed. "You don't remember?"

A muscle in their jaw twitched. "I woke up here. Just like you. No memories, no explanation. Just—this." They gestured at the wasteland around them. "And those things."

Things. Plural.

His stomach tightened.

"You've seen more than one?"

The stranger nodded. "Different kinds. Some crawl. Some hunt. Some… wait."

A slow chill crept down his spine.

The way they said that last word—wait—felt heavier than it should have.

"I've been running since I woke up," the stranger continued, their voice distant, as if replaying something in their mind. "Every time I stop, I hear something. Out there. Watching. I don't think we're supposed to be here."

He exhaled. "We're definitely not."

A sound cut through the air.

A low, guttural click.

Both of them froze.

Not close. But not far, either.

His eyes met the stranger's. The wariness was gone. What replaced it was something far more primal.

Fear.

"…We need to move," the stranger whispered.

He didn't argue.

Trust? That was a luxury neither of them had time for.

Right now, survival came first.

And in the distance, hidden in the endless dark—something was listening.