"Don't fear the Abyss..."
He'll never forget that voice despite not knowing its origin...
Who was that woman?
"Don't fail like she did..."
Aerin blinks those sharp silver eyes and shakes his head, discarding the intrusive thoughts distracting him from surveying the church courtyard. He's fenced into an overgrown greenery and broken concrete garden with the imposing church standing tall in the backdrop. The warm nighttime air caresses his pale skin when a breeze blows over, ruffling his messy silver hair. A stale stench bombards his nose, and a subtle fog wafts at his feet. This place of worship is a shell of its former self, and the ominous vibe emanating from the crumbling ruin almost makes Aerin tense; he rarely feels nervous like this.
Something is here...
He glances at a darting shadow taking to the skies from nearby bushes; a couple of crows are preemptively fleeing the scene. Aerin watches them fly high into the dark sky toward a series of crumbling buildings several blocks away. Then, he turns his eyes back on the ominous church standing tall before him, its shadow blotting the moonlight. The young Remnant appraises the architecture, stepping closer once he sees something interesting smeared across the outer walls; its writing left behind by those that came before. One can only imagine how old these scribbles of pain and suffering are.
Forsaken!
There is no God!
WE ARE DOOMED TO SUFFER!
MAY THE GREATER GODS HAVE MERCY!
Phrases like these are painted all over the walls of the forgotten church...
Those that once worshipped screamed out in agony in their final moments...
... ... ...
Aerin feels nothing for them.
The man stops a few meters from the destroyed double doors leading into the heart of the crumbling church, noting the pure darkness within; there hasn't been a spark of light inside this church for ages. It's an abyss in more ways than one now. Aerin stands at the entrance in nonchalant silence, his now soft-glowing silver eyes piercing into the darkness with a supernatural night vision he's not yet mastered, but is adept at using. It's enough to get the job done this time.
Aerin's appraising gaze sees nothing noticeably suspicious at a glance into the darkened depths of the church: the grand hall where sermons and worship once happened is now an empty, haunted husk likely housing traces of Abyssal Corruption waiting to bud. Not a sound echoes from within, either, as if it's a stagnant and timeless void waiting to be roused again the moment he steps inside. As Aerin stares into the bowels of this decrepit building, something rings in the depths of his psyche. It's a growing pressure that turns into an intrusive sensation that's inherently uncomfortable for the man.
"...Ngh!" Aerin grunts and winces before cradling his face in visible discomfort; something unseen is bothering him again. He tilts back his head, then steps a few feet from the church, closing his eyes and trying to keep it together. His head is pounding like something's beating on his skull, itching to come out. There's a shift in the air around him, followed by a subtle pulse of his Anima energy flaring from his eyes, like he's dispelling a curse when he blinks. Another few seconds pass before he regains his senses and lowers his hand, grunting in fatigue.
And then the ground starts shaking...
Aerin's instantly on alert, fighting to keep his center of balance as the ground shakes faster and more violently with every passing second. The air suddenly feels heavier, as if the atmosphere's weight is magnifying over time and is trying to crush Aerin beneath it. This Abyssal Pressure nearly forces the silver-haired Remnant to his knees, but he resists and raises his arms to shield his face from a rushing wave of air blasting from the church's interior. It's such a strong gust of wind mixed with Abyssal energy that it pushes Aerin back several meters, his combat boots sliding across the broken pavement until his back hits a damaged angel statue. The air whips and lashes like a storm is brewing inside the church, and an ominous groan cries out into the night, followed by a brilliantly bright flash of spectral blue and white energy. It's coming from the sermon hall in the church.
Trinity was spot on; the Abyssal Rift is inside the church...
Aerin sees it tear open the fabric of reality in the form of an Aetherial Rip suspended in the air, several meters wide.
The corruption it emanates sends chills down his neck...
Beyond the courtyard's perimeter, Trinity stands atop an adjacent building with a clear vantage point over the church. She stands there with her owl perched on her raised arm in a smaller, more natural size than originally, and casually gazes over the scene going on. She sees Aerin preparing to fight, but he can't see her due to Midnight Owl cloaking her presence. The woman's half-hidden gaze fixates on the silhouette of the silver-haired Remnant from afar, and she hums in thought to herself. But the energy fluctuations appearing around the vicinity concern her. That's a problem...
"The rift is creating micro tears for the Guardian's Abyssal Army..." Trinity sucks her teeth and tosses her Shadow Owl into the sky where it melts into the darkness, fading into obscurity. She clasps her hands together next, birthing an energy arrow created with her Anima energy: it's a violet blue color that dances like fire in her hands, an Anima arrow condensing in her grasp, screaming with a potent power.
Her mesmerizingly hypnotic blue-colored eye flares with an alluring glow that accompanies her pupil thinning into crosshairs; she's locking onto her target. Her thumb and index tighten at the tail of her Spectral Arrow, drawn back using her arms and hands as the bow. A rush of Anima surges around her, and her Midnight Owl reappears above and behind her, wings outstretched and blazing blue eyes focused on her target. As she finalizes her target, she speaks aloud.
"Archer accuracy in three, two, one..."
Trinity lets that arrow fly true...
And just as she anticipates, it strikes true...
Her arrow breaks the sound barrier in speed, yet does not unleash any sound when released. She's a silent killer that earns her infamous moniker among Remnants. The arrow hits a micro rift dead center, less than two seconds after firing, and having crossed over 2,000 feet in distance. It explodes on contact and engulfs the developing tear in dark-colored energy that drags it into nothingness. The rift is swallowed whole by darkness...
"Right on the money..." Trinity says with a suave smirk, already aiming down another rift while glancing Aerin's way, when an eerie roar echoes into the darkness. She can't focus on him; he's on his own. However, she supposes from her vantage point that she can offer assistance if he needs it; that'll sour her impression of him, though. She likes strong, pretty boys, not fakes. Still, she has a heart...
"I sure hope you didn't send this man to his death, Cyril..." she notes, visibly twitching when another shockwave of energy erupts from the church interior; it's so strong that she feels the aftereffects from her vantage point. Trinity keeps her one visible eye focused on Aerin. Cyril might've given her orders, but he never forbade her from doing anything.
"If I have to save you, Aerin..." she softly sighs, wishing it doesn't come to that.
Back in the courtyard, Aerin senses the Abyssal Rift is about to unleash the Guardian and draws the sword from his back. It's a rather strange-looking weapon that looks more like an oversized tuning fork than a functioning blade. The edge is split down the center from point to handle, and the opposing cutting edges are perfectly aligned and level with one another, atop having a thick spine tapering into a razor-sharp cutting edge. What's the purpose of such a strangely designed sword? Aerin doesn't know, but he knows that this sword's the key to finding out about his past.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
So, the Remnant draws it and braces himself for what's to come.
Cyril better keep his promise if Aerin survives this...
... ... ...
The voice of a woman Aerin's never met whispers in his ear again moments before something emerges from that rift...
"Don't fail like I did..."
If only Aerin knew what they meant. Guess he'll find out one day.
Aerin dives to the left, evading a cutting wave of spectral blue and white energy that carves a several-meter deep gash along the ground from the epicenter of the rift inside the church; a lethal attack. The man rolls to his feet with his sword at the ready, then dashes into the church, taking offensive before this large, humanoid-looking monstrosity bathed in burning ghost blue energy can mount another attack. He closes the distance in less than a few seconds, his speed far beyond any regular human, and raises his unorthodox blade, arcing it at the larger creature's neck.
Aerin never hits his mark, though; the Abyss Guardian's outstretched arm has already solidified into crystal and stopped his attack cold.
Sparks flash off Aerin's weapon as he's effortlessly knocked away by the strength of this now partially crystallized Abyss Monster. The young man lands on his feet, sliding backwards a fair distance until he stops outside the ruined church. The Abyss Guardian wastes no time in attacking, already pursuing Aerin with a lunging sweep of its other arm that's crystallized into a wicked bladed appendage capable of slicing apart steel. It misses Aerin's neck by mere inches; the man's fast on his feet.
Aerin hits the ground back-first after swaying away from that lethal attack, rolling to his feet some distance away and rushing forward again, already on the offensive. There's never much time to think when fighting Denizens of the Abyss, especially Abyss Guardians. They're too fast, strong, and aggressive for any sort of prolonged planning. Or maybe that's what Aerin believes. Regardless, they're fighting to the death in an intense exchange of attacks, leaving Aerin on the defensive as the melee drags on. This Abyss Guardian is exceptionally martially adept. Almost like it's familiar with fighting people strong enough to resist it. There shouldn't be many like that, though?
The creature's bladed arm morphs into a blunted hammer coming down upon Aerin with enough force to flatten cars. Aerin's too quick to get hit, though, and dives around to the nine-foot-tall, lanky monster's side and lashes out with his Anima-enthralled sword. He swings with all his might into the creature's burning flank, the resistance against his sword while he's carving into the Guardian's side akin to someone trying to cut into compressed air that's pushing back; he needs to disrupt the Abyss Field holding the creature together before he can exorcise it, but he's realizing that's easier said than done.
The creature's aura alone rejects Aerin's otherwise perfect attack, blasting the man away into a vault through the air on his feet some distance away. Aerin lands with an irritated grunt, his expression etched with annoyance, he's struggling to keep under restraint; he can't afford to make reckless mistakes out of anger.
The Abyssal Guardian stands tall and looms from the shadow of the fallen church, its large and lanky visage a mixture of crystallized sections for attack and defense and raw, wildly flailing energy everywhere else. Its appearance and aesthetic are blatant indications that it doesn't belong in this world, yet it exists. The eerie light from the pulsing rift within the church shines over its slowly approaching form, as if showing off the monstrosity it released. Aerin sucks his teeth and brings his sword up, assuming a fighting stance. There's a subtle gleam in his pale eyes that intensifies over time. Something's going to happen.
It's round two.
"Let's try this again!" Aerin huffs under his breath before charging forward at speeds rivalling the fastest animals that ever lived. He closes the several-meter distance in a second or so, following up with a display of supernatural agility when he vaults over a perfectly timed swing of a crystal-bladed arm. He twists himself into attacking while airborne, ignoring the vicious whistling of the Guardian's missed swing and the sparks from it gashing out the concrete beneath them. His boot crashes into the creature's crystallizing skull with such force that it sounds like hundreds of mirrors all shattering at once; the shockwave even shakes the church.
The creature's crystallized protection merely fractures under the weight of that inhuman blow that Aerin uses the recoil of to push himself away onto his feet. When the Remnant lands, he wastes no time and attacks again while his prey is still staggered. He grasps his sword in both hands and rushes the debilitated Guardian head-on, his boots cracking the ground and leaving an aftershock. Propelling forth with the speed of a sniper bullet, the air rings like a gunshot, then booms like a bomb when Aerin impales the Guardian through the chest with his sword. The sheer force of the blow sends them both into the air and crashing through the courtyard fence into an adjacent shop.
The Guardian hits the ground backside first and scrapes along debris and garbage until the last of its momentum blows it through the opposite side of the shop into an open parking lot. Aerin's still pinning it beneath him with both hands on his sword, and he's covered in wounds. The collapsing debris battered him quite badly, but he's resilient. The Remnant puts all his strength into trying to force his sword through the gash in the crystal protecting the Guardian's core, a gash he barely managed to make with such a powerful impact. They're in a deadly pushing game now.
The Guardian can't mount an offense until it gets Aerin away from its core.
If Aerin fails to penetrate the core, he's not getting a second chance.
Neither can lose, but only one is going to win.
... ... ...
It's not Aerin.
The creature's arm crystallizes and snatches Aerin by surprise; the Remnant forgot about immobilizing the limbs. A rookie mistake is likely costing him his life. Aerin grunts in surprise as he's ripped from his weapon, still embedded in the monster's chest, then tossed aside like trash with such casual force he rips through the old car he hits, careening into a wall where it collapses atop him. The young, battered, and injured man eventually pulls himself from the debris, covered in wounds and blood, but still pressing on. He can't lose this fight.
The Abyssal Guardian rips the blade from its chest before doing something strange that Aerin notices despite his blurry vision; the expressionless, faceless 'face' of the Guardian seems to intensely study the weapon, like it's familiar with it. No other Abyss Monster has ever done that. Aerin can't help but stop and stare while holding his injured side; he's likely bruised some ribs. Still, he wonders what's going on. And then he remembers something Cyril said when they talked. Something that didn't make sense back then, but now made it all fall together.
"That sword is a key. The key to everything you want to know about your past. You'll see on this assignment."
Aerin then remembers that woman's voice again, yet this time it's an entirely new memory. One that feels like it only awakened because of his epiphany.
"To accept Death is to accept Life."
Something throbs in Aerin's skull, and an unseen presence draws the attention of the Abyss Guardian...
"NGH!" Aerin grabs his face in sheer agony; it feels like his skull's about to split open at the nape. This feeling wasn't anything new to him; he's experienced lesser pains all his life as far as he remembers, and always knew something was up with him. However, it's never been this intense; he feels like he's dying. The Remnant's sword rattles in the curious Abyssal Guardian's grasp, then scorches the monster's crystal hand in black and silver flames. The Guardian roars in agony and staggers backward at the same time Aerin falls to his knees, seconds from screaming in agony. Pulses of Anima lash out around him, and he's losing control of something that's always tried to escape.
Then he hears another woman's voice. But this one sounds different from the original...
It's much colder... heartless...
hollow... yet eerily sweet...
"From birth, a canvas is made for one to paint on..."
A shadowy silhouette forms at Aerin's side from behind. It slowly manifests into the outline of a scythe-wielding woman covered in darkness. Her voice echoes in his mind as she manifests in his reality.
"Through Fate, or Choice, a soul is molded by adversity and strife..."
The Abyssal Guardian turns to fully stand off against an unassuming shadow looming over a distraught Remnant on the verge of unconsciousness. The air feels heavy...
"And through Death, a soul and its measure is weighed by Thanatos...."
"I am Eos, your Reflection, Aerin..." the visually silent woman addresses without looking his way, her pale and ominously beautiful features, crimson red eyes, and raven black hair solidifying as the darkness covering her recedes into an all black outfit. In her outstretched left hand and braced against her back is a wicked-looking, double-edged scythe that's larger than she is. Her red eyes glow like a demon's in the shadow of the church, staring down the Abyssal Guardian in monotonous disgust when she calmly raises her scythe, then steps forward. It's over a few seconds after she speaks. Her voice is icy and tragically solemn, like she's on the verge of tears when she kills the Guardian in a single, bisecting cut.
"Begone, Abyssal trash..."
You shouldn't exist to begin with.
Some ways away, Trinity senses a severe shift in energy near the church.
She's several blocks away...
"What the..." Trinity freezes in place after shooting down the last micro-rift; she feels very uneasy, like death is breathing over her shoulder. She doesn't realize she's trembling until she looks at her shaking fingers, then takes a moment to calm herself. "Calm down, Trey..." she tells herself, trying to ignore the morbid aura permeating the entire sector. The air feels cold to her skin, and the moon itself dims like it's about to die out. Trinity stares at the celestial body as if she's questioning whether this is an illusion or not. Everything looks normal when she blinks after thinking about it.
"... Whatever, now's not the time to second guess dumb shit," Trinity tells herself, looking back at the church. She recalls hearing a massive impact earlier, but didn't have time to study it because of the micro-tears. She pauses and looks around to make sure she's gotten them all, then dashes toward the church, where she's in for something she isn't prepared to deal with.
As she jogs up to the courtyard and sees the chaos left from Aerin's battle, her eye glances forward into the church's interior, where the Abyssal Rift remains. Aerin isn't anywhere to be seen, but neither is the Guardian. "What the hell is going on!?" Trinity curses, looking around for clues about Aerin's whereabouts before ducking a scythe swing from behind that would've decapitated her in an instant. Trinity dives into a roll on her feet some distance away, her hands clasped together in the shape of a bear in anticipation. Her expression widens in bewilderment once she sees this red-eyed, black-haired woman standing off against her across the courtyard.
And Aerin's nowhere to be seen...
"Mind telling me who you are?" Trinity politely asks, keeping her nerves under control and ready to move the moment her opposition does. But she's not fast enough to do that. She barely blinks after the mysterious woman answers her in a calm, hollow monotone before speed blitzing Trinity, her scythe already swinging at the perfect angle to rip out her throat.
"A Goddess of Death that you won't see twice."
Blood splatters across the pavement, and Trinity hits the ground.
To be continued! Next Chapter: The Only One That Can Do It.
A/N: Writing 3k words is tiring lol.