A muffled growl echoed through the endless white plane.
The beast's eyes clouded over as the last traces of life faded from them.
With a heavy thud, its massive body crashed down.
Corin lay sprawled across its back, his arms locked around its neck. He coughed violently, blood staining the fur beneath him.
"Finally gave out... persistent bastard."
The fight had been short, but brutal.
From the very beginning Corin had forced the beast into close quarters, overwhelming it with a relentless barrage of strikes. It never had the chance to fight on its own terms.
Even so, it had managed to land a few vicious blows.
Grunting, Corin pushed himself upright and looked down.
His shirt had been shredded apart. Three deep claw marks stretched across his abdomen, the flesh peeled open as blood poured freely from the wounds.
Another few minutes at most. Then he would bleed to death.
A familiar sound interrupted his thoughts.
Crack. Crack.
It spread through the empty world like glass splintering.
Thin fractures raced across the white expanse. Beyond them lay an endless darkness that slowly seeped through every crack.
The fractures widened.
Then the entire world shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Corin's eyelids grew heavy.
His consciousness slipped away.
When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed.
A stale pillow.
A lumpy, torn mattress.
A threadbare blanket that barely held back the cold.
He was lying in his own bed.
A black cat rested on his chest.
Thin strands of crimson energy drifted out of its body. As the last wisps disappeared, the cat became completely still.
The energy flowed into Corin.
His body absorbed it greedily.
He picked the animal up.
Its body was cold, its eyes dull.
It was dead.
Holding it in front of his face, Corin studied it carefully.
It was the same cat from the illusion.
Except... normal. No twisted limbs. No oversized fangs. No unnatural eyes.
Just an ordinary black cat.
"Hmm..."
Finding nothing remarkable, he tossed it aside.
His attention shifted to himself.
Looking down, his body became almost transparent to his own eyes.
Beneath his skin, a red energy surged wildly through every vein and muscle, twisting through him like living smoke.
"So it's still here..."
His eyes narrowed.
"Is this what made me stronger in the illusion?"
He climbed out of bed and casually threw a punch at the wall.
Bang!
Wood exploded outward.
His fist punched clean through the timber as though it were paper.
Corin froze.
"...Am I still inside the illusion?"
He slowly looked around the room.
Nothing seemed unusual.
"No..."
He frowned.
"I don't think so."
He hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Creeeak!
The entire door tore free from its hinges.
Corin stood there, holding it by the handle with one hand.
He blinked.
A gust of freezing wind rushed inside, snapping him back to reality.
Outside lay the familiar snow covered streets.
"I am... fairly certain this is real."
Carefully, he leaned the broken door back into place to block the worst of the wind.
Then he walked over to his desk.
Books.
Loose papers.
Old notes.
He sifted through them one by one, reading, comparing, thinking.
Half an hour slipped by.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
"I need more information."
He looked through his own body again, watching the crimson energy churn beneath his skin.
"Harlan might know something."
Decision made, he moved quickly.
He grabbed his coin pouch and a knife. The knife was purely for safety reasons, he didn't know Harlan well enough to be comfortable.
Then he picked the dead cat off the floor and tied it to his belt.
--------------
Blood dripped lazily from a knife onto the butcher's chopping block.
Behind the counter stood a broad shouldered man whose face was bright red with fury.
"Corin!" he roared. "I know it was you, you bastard!"
Spit flew from his mouth as he jabbed a finger across the room.
Corin barely reacted, keeping calm.
He shrugged.
"What did I do? Something wrong, Jef?"
Jef's face darkened even further.
His fist slammed onto the counter hard enough to rattle the room.
"You little shit! You stole from me again!"
He snatched up the blood stained knife and leveled it at Corin.
"Give me my money back."
Corin raised both hands.
"Wow, easy now."
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."
"I didn't steal anything, I promise."
Jef only got angrier hearing Corin feign ignorance.
"Your promises don't mean shit!" He barked.
"Who else would rob me?"
He marched around the counter.
With every step the cramped shop seemed to shrink.
When he reached Corin, he hesitated for the briefest moment.
His gaze landed on the mask.
Something about it always unsettled him.
But he'd come too far to stop now.
He pressed the knife against Corin's chest.
"Last chance."
"Give me the money."
Corin glanced down at the blade.
Then slowly looked back up.
His eyes became strangely empty.
The room suddenly felt colder.
"Difficult situation."
He tilted his head.
"But you're not giving me much to work with."
"You haven't told me how much was stolen."
"Or when."
"So how am I supposed to defend myself?"
A faint smile spread beneath the mask.
"I promise it wasn't me."
"I swear it on Amanda's life."
His hand closed around the blade.
"Besides..."
He looked directly into Jef's eyes.
"I don't think you actually want to do this."
Jef instinctively shoved forward.
The knife didn't move.
Not even a fraction.
It was like trying to drive steel through solid stone.
His eyes widened.
Sweat beaded across his forehead.
The silence became suffocating.
After several long seconds, Jef slowly pulled the knife back and took a step away.
"...Fine."
"I'll believe you this once."
His voice tried to sound angry.
Instead, it came out uncertain.
Corin's eyes curved into crescents.
He clapped his hands together.
"Wonderful."
He stepped forward and placed the dead cat on the counter.
"I came to sell this."
Jef glanced down.
He snorted but said nothing.
Meat was meat.
In the Underground, everything had value.
Animals.
People.
Alive or dead.
The sale was over within moments.
Neither of them bothered haggling this time.
As Corin reached the door, he paused.
"Oh."
"I almost forgot."
He looked back.
"You should probably buy a new knife."
Then he left.
Jef frowned and looked down.
His stomach tightened.
The blade was bent.
Five distinct fingerprints had been pressed permanently into the steel.