They pressed forward through a world that no longer cared to disguise its madness. The terrain was an ever-mutating nightmare—stone archways that pulsed like lungs, fields of ash that whispered beneath their feet, and rivers that ran upward for no reason but to mock gravity.
The deeper they travelled, the more the Abyss abandoned coherence, and the more Rhys felt like a trespasser in someone else's dream. Or perhaps their mind.
The creatures they encountered became worse. Not just in size or ferocity, but in design. Things built from pure nightmare fuel—fur made of teeth, eyes where no head should be, limbs that screamed when cut. And through it all, Lenny fought with terrifying efficiency, his body bending in impossible ways, his skin shifting mid-blow, adapting to each grotesque opponent like a virus learning its host.
Though he still relied on the boy to pull him along, Rhys wasn't exactly useless either. Being no stranger to martial combat himself, he managed to pull his own weight. Of course, it also helped that the fire inside him had started responding before he even asked.
Sometimes it sparked in his fingertips before danger came, flickering like an omen. Other times, it coated his skin in layers of radiant violet, shielding him from fangs or claws. There were moments he moved before he even thought to, like the body was finally willing to show him what it had been trying to do all along. His instincts—sharpened by pain, by fear, by sheer necessity—were beginning to catch up with his will.
Through it all, Rhys was making mental notes of his situation, trying to make sense of it all. What he had noted so far:
Silas called him an 'Eshe user' before. He was confused at first but later realised that Revenants are the same thing. They're just called different things in different worlds. Also, whatever his Aspect was, it awakened as soon as he entered the Abyss.
Therefore, one of three things happens when one enters the Abyss; you mutate into a grotesque monster, that is, a Marauder. But Rhys also noted a difference between the Marauders here and the ones in Gehenna and his world. He couldn't place a finger on it, but there was something more sinister about the ones he encountered here.
If those Marauders were like mutated beasts, these were more like fantastical horrors. For example, some grotesque fusion of bird and insect that mimicked their voices while attacking. He had never seen or heard of such Marauders before.
But getting back on track; if you don't change into a monster, the same thing that causes the mutation can kill you instantly, leaving your body in a disgusting half-transformed state.
Last of all, you're branded as one of 'The Damned,' with rune-like tattoos that can appear anywhere on your body. The Abyss then grants you with superhuman physicality and special abilities which you then use to complete your trial. Once you complete it and escape, you are granted the title of 'Eshe user' or 'Revenant' depending on which world you came from.
Rhys couldn't help but wonder. What is the connection between Gehenna and the 'real' world?
On the third day, though time seemed like more of a suggestion here, they arrived at a canyon.
It stretched wider than any they had crossed before, a cracked wound in the world that looked bottomless, and there on the other side…
Tartarus.
Rhys stopped walking. His breath caught without his permission.
The tower stood impossibly tall, stabbing into the sky like the spine of a god, its upper third lost in storm clouds that didn't move. Veins of red energy pulsed slowly beneath the blackened exterior, almost like it breathed. Spires and horns jutted from its flanks like bones trying to escape flesh, and the surrounding ground was cracked and cratered, as if the land itself had been trying to flee and failed.
Rhys found himself unable to speak.
He hadn't known what to expect. Maybe he hadn't allowed himself to expect anything. But this… this was damn near demonic.
Lenny stood beside him, his eyes locked on the tower's highest visible point.
"We'll rest here and make our way to the base tomorrow."
The boy turned back and started setting up camp.
With his back against the uneven ridge, Rhys's gaze fixed on the looming silhouette of Tartarus across the chasm.
And then he saw them.
Shapes. Dozens. No, hundreds. Crawling, slinking, and shambling through the craters and along the fractured ridges encircling the tower's base. Some were the size of wolves, others large enough to eclipse chunks of the skyline. Drifting toward Tartarus like insects to a flame, their movements were slow and reverent, almost worshipful.
"Lenny," Rhys said quietly. "You seeing this?"
The boy didn't look up from where he crouched, but his tone was flat with confirmation.
"Don't worry about them. There's a path we can use. It remains hidden until the suns touch the tower."
With that, the boy began casually rummaging through his sack as though this grotesque vigil of monsters was no more troubling than a passing breeze. He proceeded to hand Rhys a strip of dried meat, with one already hanging from his teeth. Of course, Rhys knew where the meat came from.
The look on Lenny's face showed that he didn't even know what was wrong about this situation. After staring at each other for a minute, Lenny shook the meat in Rhys's face as if saying, "Here you go, boy!"
The last 'meal' Rhys had was back in the labyrinthine prison. So anyone could guess how hungry he actually was. But still…
"Have you actually lost your mind? I'm not eating that!"
Lenny pulled on the strip of Rhys's dried flesh and spoke while chewing.
"You don't want to enter Tartarus on an empty stomach, trust me. For all you know, we could be in there for decades."
"I guess I'm fasting then."
"Okay, we both know what's going to happen when you die in there. You should make use of all your skills."
"Thank you for the advice, kid. But I'd rather avoid cannibalizing another person, let alone myself."
Lenny shrugged. "If you say so."
Done with the conversation, Rhys turned aside, keeping his eyes on the swarm below. Rage was slowly boiling up inside him.
'Got me fucked up.'
***
Rhys lay on the rough ground, silently staring at the night sky. Despite the chill, they ultimately decided against starting a fire out of fear of attracting any unwelcome guests. There was still lingering tension from their previous exchange. All of a sudden, Lenny's voice cut through the darkness:
"Hey, Rhys."
"What is it?"
"You're from Earth, right?"
'Where is this going?'
"Yeah."
"What's been big lately? Like… in terms of games."
Rhys blinked. "Games?"
"Yeah. Video games. Anything good come out?"
Rhys frowned. "I… wouldn't know. I never really got into them."
"Oh, okay."
Moving from the foster care system to a street kid, Rhys never had access to consoles. So he never played video games or developed an interest in them. As such, even when his circumstances changed thanks to the Benefactor, he never even bothered himself to try them out. He didn't say that, though.
"I mean, I tried a few when I was younger. But it never stuck. I was more of a movie guy."
There was a brief pause before Lenny replied with a slight hint of excitement in his tone, "Really? What director do you think had the most impact post-2020?"
Rhys blinked. "What?"
"I mean, I know that with streaming saturation came the decline of the auteur but…"
"Whoa there, why do you even know those words, aren't you thirteen or something?"
"Oh, I thought that you were a cinephile."
'I thought so too, but I guess not.'
Awkward silence. Lenny let the silence stretch, like he was watching Rhys struggle under the weight of his own reflection. Realistically, the boy wasn't judging, but Rhys felt like he had to prove something. He was about to bring that he listened to a lot of music…but he also had nothing constructive to say about it.
'Damn, am I just a passive consumer?'
Then he remembered. The Benefactor would randomly send him books of all kinds of genres. In the beginning, Rhys would sell them since hardcover literature was hard to come by, and therefore valuable. He randomly picked one up out of boredom one day and just kept reading. As a result, the twenty-two-year-old was quite well read.
"I've read through a lot of books, though."
Lenny maintained silence and since it was dark, Rhys couldn't tell what he was thinking. So he just continued:
"I liked the way some authors construct silence between lines. Like… how what's unsaid carries more weight. I used to reread a few passages just for a sentence. The power of one line, perfectly placed, could open up an entire scene to different interpretations."
After that, only two words reverberated from across Rhys, dripping with indifference:
"Sounds boring."
Rhys blinked into the darkness.
He let out a scant breath through his nose. Not out of offense, either. Just… huh.
'Alright then,' he thought, folding his arms behind his head and settling back into the cold.
'Guess I'll keep that to myself next time.'
The night carried on, quiet except for the distant shuffle of unseen things in the dark.
Morning came without ceremony. There was no alarm or anything, but something in their bodies told them it was time to move.
Rhys rose first, brushing the dust from his clothes, his limbs were sore but serviceable. He watched Lenny as he packed a few supplies in silence, trying not to think about the beasts circling Tartarus, or the weirdly sacred hush they carried with them.
Lenny stood upright soon after, already alert despite the rough ground. Without a word, he checked his weapons, adjusted his gear, and walked to the edge of the canyon.
There, in the distance, Tartarus still loomed.
It hadn't changed overnight. Still a blackened wound in the sky, still veined with that pulsing red light. Still surrounded by monsters that moved with reverence rather than hunger.
As Rhys joined him at the edge, Lenny tilted his head toward the horizon.
"The suns will touch the tower in an hour or so," he said. "That's when the path shows. We move then. For now, let's descend the canyon."
Rhys nodded.
No more words passed between them.
They just stood there, staring across the void.