Paths Beyond (Under Rewrite)

"Alright, with Brawl's success, we should continue. Grey, are you alright to increase the talent of the others?" Elder's voice carried through the heavy air, laced with both hope and caution.

Grey opened his mouth to respond, his voice trembling slightly from exhaustion. "It'll take much more energy, but it should be—"

Everything froze.

The edges of Grey's vision blurred, and then... static.

A suffocating silence slammed down on him, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear faint, distorted voices—Elder, Keen, Serene—all calling his name, their tones sharp with fear.

But something else was pulling him.

It wasn't just exhaustion. It was ancient, eternal. A force so heavy and vast it felt as though it was pulling at the core of him.

Grey's mind snapped.

Everything went black.

Grey's eyes opened to nothing.

The same black emptiness he had seen in Brawl's trial stretched infinitely in every direction. There was no light, no sound, only the crushing sensation of being watched.

And then—it spoke.

"You... you are the one interfering? Such an existence can persist in the Lower World?"

The voice was everywhere, wrapping around Grey like chains forged from ice and shadow. It wasn't just heard—it was felt. Each word burrowed into his chest, his bones, his thoughts.

Grey tried to respond, to push back against the suffocating presence, but his throat locked. No sound escaped him.

The voice laughed.

"Haha!" It was hollow, uncaring, and sharp as glass. "Fine. I'll let you help them. It's unfortunate, but I can't rid myself of you while you're there. For now... let's see how far you can drag that race back from the eternal pit of the Damned Lands."

The words Damned Lands echoed through Grey's mind, carrying weight far beyond their sound.

Before Grey could process the meaning, the force released him.

The cold coils around his spirit unraveled, and for a moment, Grey felt his very existence on the verge of being snuffed out.

And then—he fell.

The black void snapped away, and he plummeted back into his mental space like a meteor striking a still lake.

Grey gasped, his body trembling, his chest heaving as though he'd been drowning. The familiar glow of the golden pool surrounded him again, its light gentle but distant.

But the fear lingered.

His mind raced, replaying every word, every syllable spoken in that dark space. That voice... it wasn't just something powerful—it was vast. It had spoken about the Damned Lands with a casual disdain, as though the world they fought so desperately to survive in was nothing but a cracked, broken cage.

Was that where their village was?

No... it didn't feel right. The way it spoke, it wasn't just referring to their village or the Prowling Forest—it was speaking about the world itself.

Grey shook his head violently, trying to clear the fog of dread clawing at the edges of his thoughts.

"No. Not now."

There was no point in chasing answers he wasn't ready for. That thing, whatever it was, existed so far beyond his understanding that thinking about it only led to despair.