The void was replaced slowly over time by that all-encompassing surge; the growing pulse of a heartbeat that was greater than the vast nothingness that had swallowed me. The reddish-orange energy that accompanied the pulse appeared like a starburst on the horizon of the abyss, creeping closer towards me. It slowly moved closer and closer until all of the nothingness had been replaced by the pure power of annihilation.

  Over time, I was completely engulfed in that raw power that surged every few seconds… or maybe it was hours between… I couldn’t tell. There was no reference to time. None except the ever-present beating of the power that swallowed me.

  After what felt like an eternity, I felt like the vastness of this great expanse was getting smaller. Condensing into something that housed me like a shell or barrier. That’s when I realized I started feeling something, thinking of myself as… existing again. Like I had a physical form, even though I couldn’t see it yet, not completely. But within that shell where all the power of annihilation swelled, I felt distinct against that power, not how I felt in the void.

  More time passed, and I knew for certain that I was physical again. Something tangible that I could move around, but I was still trapped within the chamber that housed all this power, the terrible reddish orange heat that burned like fire and flowed like water. But… would never take or claim me.

  The longer I remained inside this domain of power, the more my thoughts cleared, and I felt like I was me again. I could look up and down, physically tilting my head, but when I looked at my own arms and legs, I couldn’t see them. It was too bright. There was too much blinding energy.

  It lasted so long like this that I was unsure if I would ever get out of whatever this was. But then a voice called me free. It spoke out even more powerfully than the raging annihilation that swallowed me whole. It only spoke one word.

  “Rise!” Death commanded me once again in that terrible, obliterating voice.

  Like a curtain was pulled back, the orb of energy that housed my body revealed an opening in the pure reddish-orange power. It parted, and I stepped through it. I felt my foot, my barefoot, step out and find its place amongst rocky ground. As I stepped through with my other foot, my face broke through the barrier of whatever chamber had held me, and I saw my new plane of existence.

  Black jagged spires of petrified bone and desiccated flesh went out from all around me. It was a crater within the bones where I stood, and it was almost like a cage as tall as skyscrapers that was formed by the bones. From within that crater… was a pulsing reddish-orange organ of pure Primeval power. That’s when I realized where I was… I was back in the fields. I was back in the place where I had seen Myordrakien’s form, or what was left of it, housed safely in the fields of Death's domain.

  Then I looked back at the heart of annihilation and realized… that’s where I had been re-made. The small opening in the side of the gargantuan, still beating heart had closed, and it looked untouched.

  I glanced down at my body now that I was fully out of the heart. I still looked like me, felt like me as I opened and closed my hands, flexing my fingers and the muscles along my arms and even my legs. It felt natural and normal, but I knew that this wasn’t my original body. There was something about it that was different. Not only that, but I had been eaten… consumed inside the pits.

  Violent images flashed through my mind: the three elders, the bony skeleton man, the gigantic fucking eight-legged freak, and then that pool of gore. The shape shifter… the strongest of all those elders that had come for me. He had ripped my head from my body… tossed me aside… and then they ate me.

  A snarl of anger started rising from my throat, and I clenched my teeth. As I squeezed them together, I could feel all of my teeth shifting into fangs more easily than ever before. As my fists clenched, the slow burn of pain that accompanied my black talons extending was less than it had ever been. They slid out and transformed my body through the first stages of the monster more easily than ever before. Not only did it hurt less, but it was definitely faster.

  “Calm yourself,” Death's voice rang out. I knew it was him because I could feel the same power in it, but it spoke quietly, and in a voice that sounded too much like my own.

  I glanced to my right at the sound of his voice, and I saw a strange, emotionless version of myself… just standing there… staring back at me with cold, emotionless eyes. They weren’t like my original blue eyes, nor were they the void black eyes of the monster… but they were just… colorless. It was hard to describe, even in my mind.

  I was hesitant for a moment, staring at Death as he mimicked my form, but then I spoke out, “What is this? What happened?” It came out shakier than intended.

  “You died!” Death said emotionlessly. He stared at me for a minute after he said this, seeing the obvious confusion on my face. He added, “Your body died, but as I’ve told you before, you are bound to me. You cannot pass on until your job is complete.”

  “But how did you get me out? I thought when I was inside of her domain, I’d be cut off from you?” I asked in confusion about our past conversations and the warnings he had given me.

  “You were trapped inside for a little while. But with the threat of Annihilation destroyed within her domain, Hunger has grown overconfident. She has opened herself up to the world. Opened the pits to allow her children and other creatures full access to her safe haven… making more of her little spiders. Not elders, but the vile creatures like the few you’ve dealt with already.”

  Death motioned towards me where I stood completely naked, and with a wave of his hand, I was engulfed in void black shadows for just a second. Then the shadows solidified and formed clothing over my body. I now stood before death looking how I always did: boots, dark jeans, a large dark brown coat, with a black hoodie underneath.

  “How did you…” I began saying as I moved my arms up and down, inspecting the new clothing that was on me like it had always been there. But it felt so light, like it didn’t exist at all, but I could reach out, grab it, touch it. I could feel the fibers inside the fabric. It seemed so real… but in this place… I wasn't sure if it was real. He had done this once before in a way, but for some unknown reason… this felt different.

  “A minor trick,” Death murmured, his voice carrying that weightless authority that seemed to press down on the air itself. “One you’ll grow accustomed to.”

  Then, without another word, his attention drifted… not to me, but past me. His colorless eyes were fixed on something behind my shoulder. The shift was so deliberate, so precise, that it made me pause. I turned, slowly, following the line of his gaze.

  Between two massive bones jutting up from Myoordrakien’s colossal corpse, there was a narrow cleft. The fallen spires of blackened marrow and petrified sinew had landed in such a way that they formed an archway, an unholy doorway leading deeper into the Primeval’s decaying body. From that passage, a figure began to emerge.

  At first, he was only a silhouette, moving through the dim, eerie haze that oozed from the cracks in the earth. But the closer he came, the heavier the air grew. Every step he took exhaled dread; a thick, choking pressure that rolled across the bones and settled into my chest. It wasn’t just fear; it was doom, a recognition of something far greater and far more ancient than I was meant to face.

  Death was one thing… but this guy… this felt like something… alien. Yet… as much as I wanted to deny it to myself, my body felt a resonance with him.

  The figure’s shape solidified, and my breath caught. I knew that face before it was even clear. It was me… again. Another version of me… just not mine. This thing wore my image like a mockery; a mask stretched over something monstrous and wrong. His skin shifted and crawled as though bones were grinding beneath it, occasionally pushing against the surface and warping his features. His mouth was a maw lined with jagged fangs that looked carved from black glass, glistening wetly as he breathed. His hands hung at his sides, each finger ending in long, uneven talons that curved inward like hooked blades, longer, crueler than my own.

  And that breathing… it wasn’t ragged or labored. It was steady, rhythmic, but too loud, as if the air itself obeyed him. Each inhale drew the sound from the world, each exhale replaced it with a deep vibration that settled into my bones. The steady, monstrous rhythm tangled with the still-beating Primeval heart behind me, and for a moment, I almost thought the Primeval corpse of Myordrakien would stand up like a walking mountain and take flight once more... just like I had seen in the visions Hunger had shown me.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  He stepped fully into the open, the reddish-orange glow reflecting off his body like the light of a dying sun. There was nothing human in the way he looked at me. The air rippled faintly around him, bending as though reality itself wanted to turn away.

  And that’s when I understood. The realization hit cold and absolute. This was him. Myoordrakien. The Primeval of Annihilation… wearing my face, walking in my skin, and staring at me.

  There was a heavy stillness between us; three figures standing in a wide, bone-strewn pit, equally spaced, forming a silent triangle. The air vibrated faintly between us, thick with something ancient and beyond me. Death stood motionless, pale and unreadable. Myoordrakien loomed across from him, monstrous and calm, his every breath a low rumble that echoed off the crater walls.

  And then there was me… somewhere in between. Not alive. Not dead. I was something else that was created by both of them. We were all a part of this new me.

  The realization began to crawl over me even before I spoke. “What is this?” I finally said, breaking the silence. “This doesn’t just feel like an after-the-fact kind of thing…” My voice wavered slightly, betraying what I didn’t want to admit.

  There was fear in me. They both knew something I didn’t. Something that had been in motion long before I caught up to it. And by the look in Death’s hollow eyes, I could tell it had gone exactly according to his plan.

  “Up until now,” Death began, his tone measured and absolute, “you’ve been walking this world in your human body. Borrowing power that was never truly yours… summoning what you call ‘the monster.’” His gaze drifted to Myordrakien, the Primeval’s black eyes glinting with faint amusement.

  Annihilation’s voice broke through, deep and grinding like boulders shifting under pressure. “I kind of like that name,” he said, baring a grin full of knife-edged fangs. The expression twisted his stolen face into something both familiar and grotesque.

  Death’s attention returned to me. “Your human shell was a limitation,” he continued. “It could only contain so much before breaking, so we had to break you. But you are too strong, even in your human form. That's why we needed Hunger to kill you.” Death only paused for a mere second.

  Within that second, though, my heart surged with anger. This was another time that his plans kept moving forward while I remained in the dark. This time, that was just as literal as figurative. But, before I could let my human emotions cut loose, Death continued as if his announcement that he had purposefully sent me to my death was as normal as breathing.

  “But now, we require more of you. The next step, as with all who came before, is ascension… absorbing more of his power.” He gestured slightly toward Myordrakien, who stood still as carved obsidian. “This has always been the cycle. Every predecessor has walked this same path. They learn to control Annihilation, to harness it, to grow it… until the flesh can no longer bear what’s inside. And then…” He paused, his tone cooling to something almost instructive. “When the mortal vessel dies, the soul is freed. It cannot move on, not while bound to me. So a new vessel must be made… one born of Primeval flesh to draw in more of his power. The same flesh that once housed Myordrakien’s essence.”

  The words hit like a hammer. I stared down at my hands, flexing them as if trying to prove him wrong. The skin looked like mine. The veins, the scars, the tendons… they all looked real. But the sensation beneath them was wrong. The strength in my fingers felt alien, like the body remembered movements my mind had never made. A tremor crawled up my arm as I curled my hand into a fist.

  “So…” I started slowly, the words thick in my throat, “I’m not even me anymore?”

  For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Death’s expression didn’t change. Myoordrakien just stared, silent and unblinking.

  The fear hit then… sharp, electric, primal. I wasn’t sure whether it came from my mind or this new body’s memory. Either way, it clawed at me, whispering one truth I couldn’t escape:

  Whatever I was before had been consumed. And whatever I was now… it wasn’t mine.

  Myordrakien remained silent, staring emotionless at me while Death shifted his words.

  For a long moment, I didn’t breathe. The air hung heavy, hot with the power of the Primeval heart behind us, trembling faintly as though it too was listening. My question lingered in the air, small and human against the vast silence of beings beyond my world.

  Death finally broke it. His tone was quiet, calm, but it reached into me like a whisper from within my own bones.

  “The deal remains,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “You made this deal. It stands apart from the ancient bargain struck between myself and the Primeval.” He motioned between himself and Myordrakien, whose black, abyssal eyes never left me. “Ours stretches beyond the limits of your expanded lifetime, beyond the limits of what even you can comprehend. But it cannot be unchecked. Even Annihilation must obey balance.”

  I watched as Death stepped closer, his presence not so much walking as unfolding, space bending around him like light around a black hole. “That is why a new kind of pact was needed. Humans were woven into the cycle… to hunt, to contain, to keep the scales level, as it is your world the scales serve. We do not hunt slowly because the other Primevals are so difficult to find… we hunt slowly because you cannot grow too strong too quickly. The balance must not tilt too far toward us.”

  He said it with such composure… almost tenderness. The stillness in his tone seeped into me, cooling the jagged panic that had begun to rise when I realized this body wasn’t truly mine. His words carried certainty, and that certainty, strangely enough, felt like peace.

  Death’s expression softened, almost serene. “Your new body will allow you to draw from more of the power within you… mine and his. The limitations of the flesh are gone. But understand this, Sam… there will come a time when your cycle ends. You will pass the mantle on… and then you will walk out of this world. Every hunter before you has done so. Should you linger too long, you will become the imbalance I must destroy.”

  There was no malice in his voice, just inevitability. Like the turning of a clock. However, the way in which he said that made me think that one of us… a predecessor, tried to keep his power, beyond Death's plans.

  The fear that had gripped me began to fade, retreating beneath something steadier, heavier… a grim acceptance. I could feel it in my chest, that old pulse of purpose. I wasn’t trapped; I was chosen… I had chosen. Still bound by my promise… the one that had saved Eleanor’s life. Whatever else had changed, that part of me remained. That choice still belonged to me… and I was in control.

  “I see…” I murmured, my voice steadier now. I glanced between the three of us: Death, Annihilation, and myself. A trinity of balance and ruin. A necessary cycle. I could feel the truth of it, pulsing like a shared heartbeat between us.

  “So that’s why I had to take it from Jon?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. “He was getting too powerful.”

  Death inclined his head slightly. “Just as I cannot fully enter the world,” he said, gesturing to Myordrakien beside him, “neither can he. But you can summon power from us as you hunt in the living world.”

  He raised one hand, and the air around it split like glass under pressure. His fingers reached into the shimmering distortion, vanishing up to the wrist. When he drew them back, he was holding something I knew too well; something that made the air and ground tremble faintly in the crater.

  The blade… Death’s blade was still covered in the familiar runes, markings, and names of all who held the mantle that was now mine.

  It gleamed with that impossible shimmering malice, a steel that reflected light like a threat… if that was even possible. My muscles tensed instinctively, drawn to it. Not the monster in me… just me. I wanted it… I felt the need to have it… to feed the growing hunger inside of me. The hunger for death. My breath hitched, and when I looked up, I saw the hunger mirrored in Myordrakien’s eyes. Even he leaned forward slightly, drawn to it like a predator scenting blood.

  “This no longer needs to be hidden from Hunger… we got what we wanted from her. With this blade,” Death said, his tone low and reverent, “my power is open to you again. Your new form will crave death more deeply than before… but this will keep it in balance. The blade will anchor your hunger… your need to kill… to annihilate. It will grant you more control, and as before, it will give you greater access to my strength. You will learn new aspects of power that aren’t just tied to Annihilation, but to me.”

  He stepped forward then…, close enough that the edge of the weapon hovered between us. The handle faced me, the tip angled down toward the bone-covered ground. I hadn’t even noticed that Myordrakien had moved too. He placed his own clawed hand over Death’s, black talons glinting as his Primeval grip enveloped Death’s waiting hand.

  The instant they touched, the air cracked. A deafening boom rolled across the crater, deep and resonant, shaking the colossal ribs of the Primeval corpse around us. It wasn’t sound, it was initiation. Something ancient stirring, something too complex and powerful for the mortal mind to fully grasp.

  The two beings, Death and Annihilation, looked directly at me, their voices fusing into one that crawled under my skin. It was my own voice, twisted into something vast and merciless, something that felt like it had been echoing in the back of my mind ever since I opened my eyes here in the fields.

  “Take the blade…” they said, in perfect unison. Their voices deepened, layered, terrible. “…and KILL!”

  The word ripped through the air like a command from reality itself.

  I stepped forward, my fear gone. My mind was clear, and my purpose… pure. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the hilt, feeling the thrum of Death and the Primeval coiling through my arm like lightning.

  Eleanor lived. The balance held, and I was bound to this life of killing for the greater good. There were complications back on earth… back with my friends… but I was clear-headed now. I knew the only thing that mattered to me in that moment. I was Death’s hand.

  I was ready to return to the world for one reason only. To… to kill.