Xin felt a sudden surge of hope that slammed into his chest like a wave, quickening his heartbeat and tightening his grip on reality. He had to find the source of the sound.
He had to track it, no matter what. It called to him, thumping in rhythm with his own heart, as if guiding him through the storm swirling inside his head.
The darkness around him was thick and suffocating. The branches above formed a tangled roof of limbs and shadows, clawing at him as he ran. Leaves whispered warnings in the wind, and owls called from the hidden canopy, but he heard only the beat.
That beat. That unmistakable, haunting rhythm. A heartbeat. It had to be Belial's. It had to be.
Xin pushed himself harder, leaping over fallen trees and darting beneath low-hanging limbs. His boots slammed against the forest floor, each step echoing in his ears as he dodged the labyrinth of obstacles. Sweat poured from his forehead, mixing with the grime and the sting of exhaustion. His lungs burned, his legs screamed for rest, but he didn't slow. Couldn't slow. Belial needed him.
He refused to lose focus. The sound of his roommates heartbeat...real or imagine...pulled him like a thread through the maze. He clung to it, following its rhythm even as the wind picked up and the darkness seemed to press closer.
As he neared the river, the roar of the current swelled into a deafening cacophony. Water thundered against the rocks, white and cold beneath the moonlight. Xin didn't let it deter him. He charged forward, every step sending splashes of icy water up his legs. His boots soaked through almost instantly, the cold slicing into him, but he paid it no mind. His focus was pinned to the figure ahead. There, lying still beside the river's edge, was someone.
Xin's heart slammed against his ribs as he saw the shape more clearly. A body. Unmoving. Drenched in blood and moonlight.
"Bel!" he screamed, his voice raw, cracking under the weight of desperation. He stumbled through the freezing water, falling to his knees beside the figure. His hands trembled as he reached for Belial's face, brushing matted hair away to reveal the familiar features. Pale. Still. Wounded.
"No, no, no..." Xin whispered as his arms wrapped around Belial's limp form. Warm blood soaked his hands, and the chill of death seemed to settle in the air around them. His friend's chest no longer rose and fell. That rhythm he had followed...was it ever real?
Tears spilled from Xin's eyes, blurring his vision. His breath came in short, gasping sobs. The ache in his chest deepened, cutting like a knife. He shook Belial gently, hoping for a reaction, a twitch, a breath, anything.
"I'm here... I found you... I won't leave you," he murmured, voice hoarse. But there was no reply. The forest fell silent except for the relentless crash of the river.
The panic clamped down hard. What if he couldn't get help in time? What if Belial was already gone? What if this was the end?
But then, through the haze of his grief, he saw it...a faint light in the distance. A building. A train station.
Xin's muscles tensed with new urgency. He gritted his teeth and hauled Belial's body into his arms, staggering to his feet. His legs threatened to buckle beneath the weight, but he locked his knees and moved forward, the river receding behind him.
Each step toward the station felt like dragging a mountain. Pain flared in his back and arms, and cold seeped deep into his bones. But he kept moving. Belial depended on him.
The platform was eerily empty, with only a silent train waiting in the shadows. He stumbled into it, clutching Belial tightly, his breath ragged. The doors closed behind him, and the train lurched into motion.
Time was no longer on his side. Each second passed like a dagger pressing deeper into his chest. He pressed a hand to Belial's sternum, searching for a pulse, any warmth, but it was fading.
By the time the train reached the city, Xin felt the last flicker of hope beginning to die. He placed Belial gently down on the floor and tried to resuscitate him, hands trembling violently as he pushed against his friend's chest.
"Come on, Bel... breathe, please..." Xin begged, voice trembling. "Don't do this. Not like this."
He tried again. And again. His tears fell freely now, splashing onto Belial's bloodstained shirt. But there was no response. No movement. Just silence.
His chest ached so badly it felt like it might split open. His screams echoed off the train walls, each one sharper than the last.
Then he saw it.
Through the window, glowing faintly against the night, was a building marked with a symbol. The phoenix. The guild.
Xin sprang to his feet, every ounce of energy he had left flooding into his limbs. With Belial in his arms, he sprinted from the train and down the street. Pain disappeared. Nothing existed except the burning need to reach that building.
He slammed the guild doors open and burst inside.
"Help!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Somebody, please!"
But the room was full of celebration. Music played loudly. Laughter and shouting filled the air. No one turned. No one listened.
"Please!" Xin cried, louder this time, his throat raw. "He's dying!"
Still, no one responded. The world spun around him, heartless and deaf.
Something inside him snapped.
A blast of ether surged outward from his body, quaking the walls and silencing the crowd. The music died. Glasses stilled midair. All eyes turned to him, stunned and silent.
He stood there, shaking, holding Belial close, eyes wide with grief.
"I'm begging you," he said, barely audible. "Please... save him..."
For a long moment, no one moved. Then, finally, someone stepped forward. A young woman. Her eyes were calm, but her posture spoke of confidence and readiness.
"I'm a healer," she said gently. "The others aren't here tonight. It's just me."
Xin followed her to the second floor like a ghost, unable to feel his own steps. She directed him to lay Belial down, and he did, his hands reluctant to let go.
The healer placed her hands on Belial's chest, eyes narrowing as she worked. Light glowed faintly from her palms.
"He's lost a lot of blood. Four ribs broken. Arm's shattered. But I can heal those..."
She paused, her expression darkening.
"His heart isn't responding."
Xin felt his knees give out. He dropped into a chair, breath shallow, the world spinning around him. He couldn't accept it. Not after all they'd been through. Not after all the fights, the laughs, the dreams they shared.
He wanted to scream. To cry. To tear down the walls. But instead, he sat there, paralyzed by helplessness, watching as the healer poured every ounce of her strength into Belial's body.
"I'll do all I can," she said softly. "But I don't know if that'll be enough."
Time dragged. The room grew colder. Xin didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stared.
Belial was his anchor. His light. Without him, Xin didn't know how to face the shadows.
So he waited. And prayed. And held onto the hope that somehow, against all odds, the heartbeat he had followed through the darkness would return once more.
The healer monitored Belial regularly, showing the same worry that Xin sensed deeply. Belial continued to remain silent. Xin thought to himself, determined to believe that he was putting up a fight. He must be.
While Xin remained next to his friend's unmoving body, another unseen event was taking place.
In a realm that exists outside reality, Belial opened his eyes and saw that he was in a strange location. Dark violet like clouds swirled in the sky with dim shining lights above, radiating a mysterious energy in the space between the nebulae. The surface below him appeared to reflect like glass, showing mysterious light patterns that moved in the air nearby.
Belial whispered to himself, "This must be the afterlife," as his words reverberated through the vast emptiness. "This is kind of disappointing."
As soon as the words escaped his lips, a mysterious figure appeared before him, shrouded in a combination of black and purple that appeared to have a pulsating energy. Belial's body tensed as he flinched and turned quickly to confront the mysterious figure.
"Do not misunderstand," the figure said with a deep, resonant voice that sent a shiver down Belial's spine. "This is not the life after death."
Belial's gaze narrowed while he cautiously backed away, examining the figure. So, where exactly am i? Who are you?
The figure's aura shifted, swirling around it like a living thing. "We are in the Astral Plane," it explained calmly. "A place where the soul and consciousness exist beyond the boundaries of life and death."
Belial's mind raced.
The astral plane?
He had heard of such theories of places in realms where the laws of the physical world no longer applied, but that was for the spirit realm, where only the soul could travel. But if this wasn't the afterlife, then why was he here? And more importantly, how?
Was there a mistranslation in the books I read?
"If I'm not dead, why I'm i here?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "And what do you want from me?"
The figure let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "I pulled your soul into this plane moments before your death," it said, the words reverberating through the air. "As for who I am... that is not for you to know. All you need to understand is that your body has been healed."
Belial blinked, momentarily stunned. "Healed?" He could feel his confusion mounting. "Wait. What are you talking about?"
"Your body was on the brink of death," the figure continued, "but it seems someone intervened in the physical world, saving you from your death."
Belial processed the words from the shadowy figure, but before he could ask more questions, a faint sound...like a heartbeat—echoed in the distance. He turned toward the noise, but when he looked back, the shadowy figure had vanished.
The sound grew louder, more persistent, dragging him away from the ethereal plane. His vision swam, the world around him dissolving, shifting, warping—until reality took shape once more.
Belial's eyes snapped open. A dull, aching pain pulsed through his entire body, making even the slightest movement a struggle. The first thing he saw was Xin, sitting beside him, his gaze heavy with relief and exhaustion.
"You're awake," Xin whispered, his voice hoarse, as if he had been speaking to him even in unconsciousness. His eyes were red-rimmed, betraying the sight of unspoken worry.
Belial tried to sit up, but agony lanced through his limbs, forcing him to grit his teeth. "Feels like I got tossed into a meat grinder," he muttered weakly. "But... I'm alive. Thanks to you."
Xin's lips trembled into a small, relieved smile. "The healer did most of the work," he admitted. "I just stayed by your side."
Belial let his head rest back against the pillow, exhaling slowly as he took in the dimly lit room. "Where are we?"
"The guild," Xin answered. "You've been out for hours. The healer managed to patch you up, but... you still need time to recover."
Belial turned his gaze to him, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. The only person who had ever cared for him like this was his father and...his master but that could be questionable.
But this… this was different. It felt Warm, in a way he hadn't known before.
Is this what it feels like to have a friend?