Pain.
That was all Claude could think of as consciousness clawed its way back into him.
A blinding, all-consuming agony seared through his flesh, his nerves ablaze with something far worse than fire. Each beat of his heart sent fresh waves of torment through his limbs. No, not his heart. The other one.
Th-thump.
Still writhing in pain, Claude heard it. The foul rhythm of that thing beating inside him.
And then came memory, his memories.
How the original Claude had been caught. And then sacrificed.
How he had taken the body, just barely surviving the ritual. How Hugh had dragged him into another ceremony, stripping him of all his memories, turning him into a puppet.
It had almost worked. Almost.
Yet, unfortunately for Hugh, there was one thing he did not consider. One thing he could not consider.
Mental Energy.
The ambient Mental Energy flowing through Claude's Soul Sea managed to shield him from most of the effects of the second ritual, preventing him from turning into a puppet.
Still, the price was steep. And it was... his memories.
With a grunt, he bit down on his lower lip until blood welled up, coppery and warm. Gritting his teeth, he forced his eyes open.
Light. Shapes. The world returned.
Hawden Square.
Empty.
Silent.
He was alive. Somehow. Alone. For now.
"AAAGHHHHHH!" Claude screamed, a raw, primal cry that tore from his throat like a blade. He thrashed, he convulsed. His mind cleared, his pain sharpening.
And that clarity only made it worse.
The second heart pounded harder.
Th-thump. Thud-THUMP. TH-THUMP.
Black flames licked his limbs, not burning flesh, but worse. They bypassed flesh entirely and danced across his soul. The agony wasn't physical, it seared into his very soul.
Where others might find mercy in numbness, Claude remained cursed with awareness, his Mental Energy giving a lucidity he wished he did not have.
His muscles stiffened. His scream froze, mouth wide.
Gaping.
Open.
Silent.
He tried to scream—his voice would not follow. He tried to move—his body would not follow. He tried to die—his mind would not follow.
He was a prisoner in his own flesh, watching as the flames twisted, surged, and began to take shape, twisting into a black inferno.
No matter how much he inhaled, it wasn't enough. Each breath felt thinner, shallower. He was drowning in air.
TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP! THUUUD!
The cursed heart roared in his chest.
And then—rupture.
From sternum to navel, his chest tore open, like a seam bursting under pressure.
Shlick!
Inky black ichor oozed out of him. With every drop, Claude could feel his lifeforce ebbing.
This body was dying.
And the worst part?
He didn't know if there was a body to return to.
The rituals. The Subspace. The corruption. With everything going on, he could not be certain the Subspace Network would bring him back.
After all, he was inexperienced in such things.
Drip.
The ichor stilled midair.
Then—defiance.
It rose. Not fell—but rose, like liquid shadow flowing in reverse, pulled skyward toward the ragged rift in the heavens.
The tear, meant to be sealed by Claude's intervention, widened instead. It drank deeply from the river of his life.
'I… a-am not… RESIGNED!' Claude screamed, if only in his mind.
This could not be the end. He still had so much to see. So much to learn. So much power yet to grasp.
Death wasn't what he feared. Oblivion and futility were.
Still, all he could do… was watch. As the ichor fed the gaping rift above. As whatever horrors lay within stirred in response.
Thruuuuum.
A low, resonant hum pressed against the fabric of his soul.
Thruuuuum.
The sound deepened, vibrating through the marrow of his bones. Pressure crushed inward. It sat heavy on his consciousness, like the weight of a god's gaze.
Thruuuuum.Thruuuuum.Thruuuuum.
Each pulse more immense, more consuming. It eclipsed the pain, the fear, the thoughts. There was only the sound. The pressure.
And then—
Silence.
It stopped.
Claude gasped. Not from relief. But confusion.
He cautiously opened his eyes again and realised...
The black flames—gone. The tear in the sky—sealed. His blood—vanished.
Even the wound that had split him open was healed. In its place: a faint, faint glow. Green and subtle. Like moss under the gleaming moonlight.
What happened?
***
It was a vast, dark expanse. An endless void, stretching beyond the reaches of imagination. It was a realm unchained by time or space.
Yet within this desolate nothingness, one presence stood out like snowfall on a summer's day.
Perched at the heart of the dimension, a silhouette sat motionless. Hazy and indistinct at first, like a mirage glimpsed through smoke. But the longer one gazed, the more its form came into focus.
It was somewhat humanoid. But only somewhat.
Its limbs were long and elongated, too fluid and jointless to belong to any natural being. Jagged claws tipped its fingers, like scythes grown from bone. A multitude of writhing black tentacles sprouted from its back.
Its face was a blur, distorted and smeared, as though reality itself refused to render it fully. And yet, beneath that blur pulsed a terrible presence.
Then—
It moved.
Only slightly. A subtle shift of posture. But that simple motion ignited invisible tempests.
Storms tore through the void, unseen winds shrieking as the very fabric of the dimension trembled. Space convulsed. Time bent. Reality winced.
But the moment it stirred, something answered.
Chains—both golden and silver—burst forth from the emptiness around it. They came like lightning. Thousands of them.
They wrapped around the creature's limbs, its neck, its body—binding it in radiant coils. They glowed with ancient power as they restrained the entity.
But the being made no effort to resist. It sat there… patient. Almost amused.
"A̶ ̶t̷h̴o̸u̶s̶a̶n̵d̵ ̵r̷e̸a̷l̷i̶t̷i̵e̸s̷.̶ ̶A̶ ̷m̴i̵l̷l̸i̵o̵n̴ ̵t̷i̷m̶e̵l̷i̴n̵e̶s̷.̶ ̶A̶n̵ ̶e̷t̸e̸r̷n̴i̵t̵y̷ ̸o̶f̸ ̶d̶r̷e̶a̷m̴s̶…̶ ̶a̷l̴l̵ ̷c̴o̸n̶v̶e̷r̷g̴i̵n̴g̸ ̷a̶t̷ ̷l̸a̸s̸t̵.̵"
It chuckled.
The laugh sent a rippling distortion outward, straining the void around like glass under strain.
And in that moment, the being's face became clear.
It was not a face, not truly. Where there should have been a mouth, a nose, lips, skin—there was only a gaping, endless void. A black hole of flesh, surrounded by twitching tendrils that pulsed with thoughtless hunger.
Its eyes, however, were closed. Just thin, twitching slits in the chaotic mass of its features. Resting. Dreaming. Waiting.
Then, slowly, they opened.
Twin orbs of vibrant emerald.
Each pupil was vertical, reptilian. The green in those eyes was unlike any other: the green of envy, of decay, of the last sickly light before the sun is extinguished.
But more than the colour…It was the reflection in them that warranted attention.
At first, its gaze seemed to behold... eternity.
Time folded and unfurled within those orbs. Stars were born and died. Galaxies spiralled into ruin. Realities bloomed and withered like flowers in a starry field.
But, as those visions died, another scene took place.
It was a silhouette.
Both familiar and unfamiliar.
One belonging to a young man.
"C̴o̸m̴e̷,̶ ̶y̷o̷u̴n̶g̶ ̵m̷o̴r̶t̵a̸l̶…̶" The being mumbled, its words making the space around it tremble and caused its binding chains to tighten. "Heed̶ ̴my̷ ̷n̶a̸m̷e̶…̶ ̷follow̵ ̷my̵ ̷call.̶ ̶I̵ ̶a̷m̸ ̷M̴a̶k̸k̷a̵t̴h̷…̶ ̶t̵h̷e̵ ̵E̸t̸e̶r̸n̸a̶l̷ ̵O̴n̶e̷.̶ ̶F̵r̶e̵e̷ ̷m̷e̶ from these binding chains…̷"