'A human?'
Rhys immediately tried to hide behind a small outcropping of obsidian spikes.
'Besides those poor medics, I thought I came here alone.'
Questions swirled in his head, creating a whirlwind of confused thoughts. But he had to put them aside for now. He kept his distance, breath slow, ensuring his presence remained undetected as he approached. There was no way to know if they were a threat or not. In that case, it was best to assume threat.
A fight wasn't ideal, but if it came down to it — Rhys was confident he could handle it. He had grown used to scrapping for food and a place to sleep back when he was a street kid. But that was years ago, before he met the Benefactor, so he feared that he might have lost his edge.
Not to say that his combat ability diminished in any capacity. Quite the opposite. Thanks to the teachings of the Benefactor, he went from a scrappy brawler to a bit of an experienced fighter himself. But he might have lost that fierceness born out of desperation.
Of course, none of that really mattered, thanks to his current condition. Miraculously, he wasn't standing at the gates of death anymore, but his body ached from exhaustion, and the cold gnawed at his bones. Not to mention his missing limb, ruthlessly torn from his shoulder by the Marauder.
Just then, the figure turned and Rhys got a clear look at their face.
It was a boy. He couldn't have been no older than thirteen years old. He had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes, making him look rather feminine. Rhys' mind alternated between genders until he ultimately landed on 'boy' as his final decision.
A jolt of confidence steadied his nerves.
'A kid? I can handle a kid.'
He rose from behind the spikes and took a step forward.
The boy's head snapped toward him.
Then he was _gone._
Not a flinch. Not a dash. Just…vanished.
Rhys barely had time to register the blur before something primal twisted in his gut. His instincts screamed at him, a razor-sharp certainty that coiled around his spine.
'I'm about to die.'
Immediately, he raised his hands in the air and blurted out:
"I mean no threat!"
After shouting those words, a stinging sensation bloomed across his throat.
The boy was already there. His eyes now glowed blue, with a certain coldness to them.
Low to the ground, a jagged stone pressed against Rhys' skin. Cold, unyielding, slick with something Rhys did not want to think about. Warmth trickled down his neck — his own blood.
Rhys' heart pounded. His mind raced.
'What the hell…?'
Then he saw it.
A rune-like tattoo stretched from the corner of the boy's mouth to just below his eye, pulsing in deep, molten blue. The symbols writhed and shifted, alive with eerie light.
Rhys swallowed hard. He obviously recognized the Revenant markings.
Now he wasn't sure if this really was just a kid.
Rhys knew he had to do something, but he didn't dare move. His breath came shallow as he was calculating what to do next — shove the kid back, reach for a weapon, run — but his body refused to listen. All of those probably wouldn't end well for him.
His eyes flicked to the stone against his throat. It wasn't just a rock. A makeshift blade, maybe? It looked like it was made from the same spikes he used. He didn't know, and now wasn't the time to figure it out.
The boy tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving Rhys'. The eerie glow in his irises flickered, studying, weighing, and dissecting. For a moment, neither of them moved.
'He sure doesn't act like an immature kid.' Rhys thought.
Then, the boy spoke.
"You smell… weird."
Rhys stiffened. 'What is that supposed to mean?'
The boy's gaze darkened, the blue glow deepening like smouldering embers.
"How did you get here?"
Rhys swallowed, feeling the blade shift ever so slightly against his skin. The warmth at his neck reminded him of how little room for error he had.
"I—" His voice cracked. He forced himself to stay steady.
"I have no idea. I'm not even sure what this place is supposed to be."
The boy's eyes narrowed, scanning Rhys for any sign of a lie. His expression didn't shift, but something in his posture relaxed; a fraction, almost imperceptible.
Then, he spoke again.
"Then why are you still alive?"
Rhys blinked. "What do you mean 'Why'?"
The boy didn't answer immediately. His grip on the stone loosened, and for the first time, Rhys noticed something strange — his hands were trembling. Not in fear, but in exhaustion. Like he was holding himself together through sheer force of will.
Rhys took the tiniest breath. His instincts told him this was the moment.
"Look," he said, voice low, calm.
"I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not your enemy. I promise."
The boy's jaw tensed.
"…Not yet."
Rhys barely had time to process that phrase before the boy finally pulled the stone away from his neck. He took a slow step back, the eerie glow in his eyes flickering like embers in the wind.
Then, he spoke again.
"You should've died the moment you got here."
That wasn't a threat. It was just a fact.
Rhys hesitated, touching the thin cut on his throat. His fingers came away stained red.
"Would you mind enlightening me on what that means exactly?"
The boy didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped slightly, and something unreadable flickered across his face.
Then, at last, he met Rhys' eyes again.
He pointed at the tattoo on his face and said, "Then, did one of these manifest anywhere on your body?"
"Not that I know of, no." Rhys responded.
But then, he paused. That was lie. He did not do it on purpose though, his body just kind of answered before his brain could fully process the question. Before he could correct himself though, the boy spoke:
"Then your trial hasn't begun yet."
Rhys' stomach twisted.
"…Trial?"
He had never heard any mention of Trials taking place inside Abyssal Zones.
The boy said nothing.
Instead, he turned on his heel and began walking. Not away, but forward.
And then he stopped — just far enough ahead that Rhys would have to make a choice.
Follow, or be left behind.
Rhys did not like the look on the boy…girl…person one bit. It was almost like they didn't see another human being when they looked at Rhys. But just then, he heard the distant howl of something that definitely did not see him as nothing but easy prey.
Without any other option. Rhys followed.
'Haven't I been tried enough already?'
***
Rhys followed the boy.
His steps were cautious, trailing slightly behind him just to make sure he had a visual on him at all times. But the boy didn't seem worried about Rhys at all. That must have been because of his display of power from before and Rhys himself didn't look like he could put up much of a fight in his current condition.
After walking in silence, Rhys decided there wouldn't be any harm in introducing himself.
"My name is Rhys by the way, Rhys Maya."
"Lenny." The boy replied.
They fell back into silence again.
'Did he make me follow him just for the sake of it? I might as well gather as much info as I can.'
"What is this place?" he finally asked.
The boy — no, Lenny — didn't stop walking.
"The Abyss."
Rhys frowned.
"Abyss?"
Lenny tilted his head slightly, as if rolling the word around in his mind. Then, with a slow breath, he elaborated.
"That's what it's called. You could run for eternity, and you'd still be in here. Doesn't matter where you go, how deep you fall — it's still just the Abyss. The only way out is by completing your Trial."
'Sounds lovely.'
Rhys let that sink in. His gaze flicked to their surroundings — an endless, dark expanse, shifting like a mirage in his peripheral vision. There were structures in the distance, jagged things that looked like ruins, but beyond that… just void. And the towers, of course.
"So, about these trials…"
Lenny raised a brow. "Yes?"
The maturity he carried in his prepubescent voice threw Rhys off for a bit. For some reason, he felt like he was speaking to a seasoned veteran instead of thirteen-year-old. Basically, a kid to him.
'Weird.'
But he still continued with his line of questioning:
"How do I know when mine has started."
'I'm kind of in a hurry, you see.'
Lenny paused, then turned to him with something approaching bewilderment on his face.
"You haven't heard the Whispers?"
Rhys' eyes sparkled with recognition.
"I have, actually. But they've done nothing except almost drive me insane. Do they have something to with it?"
Lenny turned away from Rhys as he began walking again at a steady pace.
"They guided me to my Trial, so I assumed they did the same for you."
Without even sparing a glance at Rhys, he added:
"At least your luck led you to me, right?"
The lack of emotion in those words sent a chill down Rhys' spine, causing him to involuntarily shudder.
'No, no, no. I did not like that, at all.'
Silence stretched between them.
Rhys exhaled sharply. "Luck, my ass."
A flicker of amusement danced in Lenny's eerie, glowing eyes.
They walked a little longer, neither speaking at first. The weight of Lenny's words settled over Rhys' mind, but the kid's presence was just as unsettling. He carried himself like someone who had long abandoned the concept of hope.
"How long have you been here?" Rhys asked, watching him carefully.
Lenny didn't answer right away.
Then, without looking at him, he muttered,
"Decades."
Rhys frowned.
"…How many?"
Lenny let out a dry breath.
"Dunno."
Rhys studied him. The boy looked no older than thirteen, but something about him—his posture, the weight in his voice — felt mature. Plus, he was having a hard time believing that this…'kid' had been stuck in this desolate landscape for decades…and lived.
Lenny must've noticed his scrutiny, because he smirked faintly.
"I haven't aged a day since I got here."
Rhys hesitated. "How?"
"Same reason why even though I haven't eaten. Or slept. Or drank anything since the day I woke up here, I'm still standing."
Rhys' stomach twisted. He couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of horrors the kid must have faced, or what kind of horror he himself became. The grotesque image of the mutated corpse briefly flashed by his memory.
Without waiting for an answer, Lenny continued.
"The pain and discomfort that come with hunger and thirst persists but my body remains. The Abyss deprives you of everything, even death."
There was no pain in his voice. No bitterness, either. Just… a simple, hollow fact. Maybe he had long fought against the concept, but that is a battle he had clearly given up a long time ago.
Rhys didn't respond. He couldn't. But that didn't mean he had given up either. If anything, that made him even more defiant.
'Screw all that, I'm making it outta here, and surviving. No matter what.'
Rhys began to think about all he had done in pursuit of survival because for better or for worse, that's what most of his life choices came down to — survival.
It's what caused the 'incident' at his former orphanage. Which drove him to flee from there, which in turn led him to become a street kid.
After living off of theft, he ran into the Benefactor while trying to pick his pockets. Needless to say, he got caught. But to young Rhys' surprise, instead of punishing him, he provided for him. A small apartment, cash that appeared when he needed, and books that appeared without explanation.
He sometimes visited, but rarely, and the visits always felt more like inspections. But Rhys never asked questions; he knew better than to risk breaking whatever fragile arrangement kept him off the streets.
In all honesty, the man felt more like a shadow than a guardian, but still, Rhys couldn't shake feeling that, in his own way, he had cared for him. And needless to say, he also grew attached to the enigma of a man.
A lot of questions were left unanswered for most of Rhys' life regarding the Benefactor and his subsequent disappearance. But just as he started looking for answers, he got pulled into something which was entirely fantastical to him. Speaking of which…
Lenny kept trudging forward in silence, and Rhys began to wonder.
'Where is he even taking me?'
They eventually arrived at a cave.
Lenny went in first, and Rhys stopped for a bit before proceeding cautiously.
As Lenny stepped inside, his shoulders tensed — just slightly. Like he was preparing for something. Rhys couldn't tell if it was a shiver… or a coiled spring.
Inside, the walls curved in a way that suggested intent rather than erosion forming it over time.
Rhys ran his finger along the stone and asked, "Did you carve it out yourself?"
Standing near the far end of the cave, Lenny answered.
"Yes, it took a long time, but it's not like I had somewhere to be."
Something about the way Lenny was standing rubbed Rhys the wrong way. Even his tone had changed from when they were talking before. Rhys had spent years reading people, learning to pick up on the small shifts in their posture, the tiny hesitations that came before a threat.
And right now, every instinct of his was telling him to get out.
Lenny continued speaking:
"I've been stuck here for years you know — no food, no water — and you're the first living thing I've seen." Lenny stared Rhys down with an expression he couldn't identify.
"I've even forgotten what meat tastes like."
'Oh…is that what's happening here?'
Lenny exhaled softly, "It's a shame, really."
"Shit. Shit. Shit."
Rhys cursed under his breath as he began to turn tail and run.
Next thing Rhys knew, Lenny had disappeared right in front him.