The air changed as soon as Asher reached the Rift.
It was not like the others he had been inside.
This one was… wrong.
The roiling black nothingness throbbed with unstable energy, strands of violet lightning jarring along its skin. The whole atmosphere still swirled thick around it, as if the very space around it was rejecting the truth of reality.
Asher breathed out and readjusted the knife strapped to his thigh. He sure wasn't going to walk into an unknown Rift unprepared.
Veyna's words came back to him.
"The Guild has the Rift locked down. They don't let nobody in."
"Why?"
"Because whatever's inside… even they're afraid of it."
It was enough to catch his attention.
And now, standing in front of it, Asher knew why.
A quiet beep rang in his ear as the comm device Veyna had given him engaged.
["Still alive, Vale?"] Veyna's voice came crackling through. ["Or did you decide to run?"]
Asher smirked. "Funny. "I was just thinking the same about you."
["Touché."]
A pause. Then—
["Be careful in there. This Rift isn't normal. If things go sideways, don't be a hero."]
Asher didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward.
And into the darkness.
As soon as Asher stepped through the threshold, his vision went out of focus.
His senses warped, and reality twisted like a shatter mirror searching for a place to mend itself.
Then—
And then everything fell back into place.
The Rift had consumed him whole.
And he wasn't alone.
Standing in the middle of an ancient, crumbling city, Asher himself.
Towering wreckage reached through the air like arms, and a sky crumbled like glass, revealing pockets of spinning void beyond it. Dust and something much older, — something rotten — hung thick in the air.
And then there were the statues.
And lining the razed streets, enormous stone figures froze in death-pained poses, as if shrieking before they became rock.
A warning.
A reminder of what awaited those who stumbled here.
Asher exhaled. He'd been in dangerous places before — but this was different.
Then, the ground rumbled.
He immediately adjusted his position, taking stock of his surroundings. The sound wasn't random.
Something was moving.
Something big.
Asher grabbed his knife, but before he could do anything—
A shadow streaked past him.
Fast. Too fast.
He turned around — but it was already at his back.
There came a low, guttural growl from the ruins.
Then—eyes.
In the darkness opened dozens of glowing red eyes.
Watching him.
Hunting him.
The first creature lunged.
Asher hardly had time to react before a huge claw cleaved through the air, inches away from him as he rolled to the side.
The creature touched down, its shape finally revealing itself.
This was nothing like the monsters he had fought.
This thing was wrong.
It had a beast's body, but its flesh was distorted, pulsing as though it didn't belong in this world. Its visage was humanoid, but misshapen, a mockery of how a person should appear.
And then… it spoke.
Not in words.
Not in sound.
But directly into his mind.
"You… should not be here."
The voice was like a thousand whispers piled on top of one another, speaking in words that Asher shouldn't have been able to understand… but somehow did.
He gripped his knife tighter. "Yeah, well. I've been where I shouldn't be before."
The beast tilted its head and then…
It smiled.
And attacked.
The creature was moving too quickly — and Asher was quicker.
He ducked under its razor-sharp claws, pivoting his body as he moved. "You have no idea," his instincts told him, don't fight again like you did before.
This thing wasn't operating under system rules.
Neither was he.
He let go.
And the power responded, immediately, inside him. When he tapped into it, the world around him slowed — not in reality, but in his perception.
Every movement. Every shift in the air.
He could see it all.
The beast lunged again, but this time, Asher struck first.
His footwork compensated instinctually, his knife glinting in the low light—
SHNK.
The blade plunged into the beast's side, black ichor spraying onto the stone floor.
The creature shrieked, the air around them reverberating with the force of it.
But Asher didn't stop.
And twisted the knife further in — and yanked it out, cutting upward in one fluid movement.
The beast reeled back, growling. Its wound — for a heartbeat — seemed to knit itself back together, the mangled flesh struggling to reconnect.
But then…
It didn't.
Instead, the wound spiraled and swelled, as though something within the creature was rebelling against its own recovery.
Asher's eyes narrowed.
So it can heal… but not from my attacks?
Good.
Very good.
But before he could seize his advantage—
The ground under him gave way.
Asher had just enough time to curse before falling.
The ruins beyond him shrank as he hurtled into solid black, distant light growing fewer and smaller.
Then—
A sudden impact.
His body landed on solid ground and the impact jostled a stabbing pain through his ribs.
Dust and debris fell around him.
He was alive.
Barely.
Asher groaned and lifted himself up on his elbows. Now he was in a cavern—far below the surface.
And in front of him…
A door.
Massive. Ancient. Inscribed with symbols that radiated dark energy.
It was sealed shut.
But something told Asher that whatever was beyond it…
Which is what the Guild had feared.
He breathed out, brushing the blood from his lip.
This mission was meant to be about an artifact retrieval.
But now?
He suspected it was about something a lot, lot bigger.
And he wasn't going to leave until he had found out what.