The earth is careening straight down the tracks to hell and the humans are at fault.
Trapped in the dungeons of an ancient burial grounds and tortured to the brink of insanity, the God and Goddess of balance have been separated, unleashing a terrib...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Consciousness is an illusion.
I don't remember the last time I was awake or the drifting between states.
What I do understand is the difference between dusty marble and cold metal against my back. My chains are now just shackles, pinning me down. They hold my elbows locked and twist the skin.
Blinking in frustration, I manage to adapt slightly, enough to see what can be made out in the dark. A crack in the ceiling with light peeking through, some debris and a scolding ash mark.
A tiny smirk lifts my lips.
He tried to drag me in here unconscious, thinking it would be safer.
The very mechanics of a God long forgotten.
Only so much can be thrust into a vessel on this planet. We do not pretend to have full control over our own manifested gifts. What I can do while awake is sufficiently less than once I am asleep, unconscious, or in a world of grave peril.
Lord help this man if he manages to cast my soul from this body.
He will need it.
A gust of wind floods down from the crack above me.
A similar hissing as before with less definition.
"Making manifest seems to trouble you, friend."
A laugh ebbs into existence, fizzling in and out. "What would you know of it?"
"A great many things, perhaps," I pause for a minute. A question this time at least, refreshing from the mindless insults of a young ghost. "I did birth the very world you've adopted."
The ground shakes with frustrated ignorance. "So you think, Goddess. Yet perhaps it is mere coincidence, did you not ever wonder?"
"Nope," I snort, laughing at the idiocy. "For I have known of more powerful things, more wistful experiences than anything that could ever roam this planet. What have you experienced, Creature? You are nothing more than a ghoul with the skin of the wind at your back."
We are utterly alone in an empty chamber. Nothing stirs beyond for maybe a mile in any direction. The silence fills up like water, pooling and pushing at the surfaces it is contained in.
The voice turns into a long, resonant hum. Familiar, as though a mother reflects reluctantly back towards her child. "You've been held for a year now. Your companions are dead."
A tiny pang of fear hits, a little seizure tightening my heart and releasing it just as quick.
"I am time, Demon. It couldn't have been more than a week and a half from the smell in the air alone."
Lies.
All of these lies.
I cannot bear to process any other alternative. Whether I am to completely rely on my senses or the mana within my own veins. These words are lies. Daniel escaped and Remi is safe with Meika.
