Rein faltered. Hurting herâeven for thisâfelt wrong. But as he looked into her eyes, steady and full of trust, he knew what she wasnât saying: If it helps us survive, do it. Donât hesitate.
âAlright... I'm sorry in advance, Morin,â Rein said, trying to push down the knot of guilt in his chest. âJust think of this as payback for that kick earlier. You know, typical sibling stuff.â
He forced a smile, but it didnât reach his eyes.
Hardening his resolve, Rein channeled pneuma into the tips of his fingers. He moved quickly, no hesitation. With a flick of his hand, he reopened the wound on Morinâs palm, cutting it deeper this time to make it bleed again.
Morin responded with a grunt, her uninjured hand tightening its grip around Reinâs, still trying to hide the pain. Rein clenched his jaw at the sound. He hated it.
As blood began trickling from her reopened wound, it shimmered for a moment before bubbling, then evaporating into smoke, vanishing into the air. Without hesitation, Morin plunged her bleeding hand deep into the magma.
Seconds passed. Then Rein felt it, a subtle lift beneath them. A growing pressure. A soft swell like something pushing upward through the molten river.
Beneath them, an orb of energy began to form, expanding steadily. Unlike the pure gold from before, this one was laced with the vibrant glow of magma, turning the light into a fierce, fiery orange. Brighter, more unstable.
In moments, they were hurled from the magmaâs surface and launched into the air again. This time, the energy blast was muffled slightly by the dense magma, sparing Rein from the brunt of the impact. But what the blast spared, the eruption tried to claim. Chunks of molten rock and blistering heat surged around them.
Before Rein could react, Morin moved her body, still coated in a hardened layer of pneuma, wrapped around his. The magma that splashed against her bounced off harmlessly, deflected by her protective aura. Only a few stray droplets slipped through, searing into Reinâs exposed skin where her smaller frame couldnât fully shield him.
Their plan to escape the raging magma current had workedâbut only partially.
Instead of blasting them back deeper into the whaleâs body, the energy surge merely launched them upward. Worse, the whaleâs internal wind, still flowing out, caught them mid-air and began pushing them toward the exit.
Rein was the first to cross the threshold.
Time seemed to slow as he drifted past the thick, mountainous teeth of the whale and into the cold expanse beyond. Panic surged through him as he flailed for anything to grabâsome edge, a crevice, even the whaleâs slick gumsâbut heâd been flung too far. He was losing grip, literally and figuratively.
Then he heard her.
âBrother, grab my hand!â
He twisted around.
Morin was dangling from one of the whaleâs teeth, her other arm extended toward him, trembling with effort. Without hesitation, Rein reached out and seized her hand.
The grip was brutal. Rein felt bones shift, maybe even crack in his fingers. The sudden halt in momentum sent a jolt through his shoulder, a sickening crunch that nearly made him scream.
How many bones had he broken by now? How many burns and bruises? He didnât know. Didnât care.
He was still alive. That was enough.
But then came the scream.
It was nearly deafening, a guttural roar that tore through the air from somewhere below. A hot gust followedâputrid and sharpâand when Rein glanced down, dread chilled his blood.
There it was.
The serpentâs maw, open wide like the mouth of a hellish cavern. Its fangs jutted like jagged spears, each slick with some dark, unknown venom. The inside of its mouth pulsed red like molten flesh, hungry and vile.
This is the mouth that devoured black holes?
Rein's heart pounded. Through the pain, he tightened his grip on Morinâs hand, fingers broken or not.
He wasnât letting go.
But it turned out Rein didnât have to worry much longer.
The magma poured through the gaps between the whaleâs massive teeth, cascading like molten orange waterfalls. Each stream plummeted toward the serpentâs gaping mouth below.
When the first tongues of magma reached it, a loud, furious sizzle echoed through the air, followed by a scream so deafening it rattled Reinâs skull.
The serpentâs jaws snapped shut with a violent clamp, a gust of foul wind bursting out as its head recoiled. But the punishment wasnât over.
The magma splashed against its face, some seeping into its eyes, others flooding the twin holes that looked like nostrils. The rest streamed down its golden-scaled body, hissing and steaming as it burned its flesh.
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âThat seemed to have done it. It has finally released its grip on me,â came a voice in Reinâs mind, deep and familiar.
âYou...â Rein said aloud, breathless. âWhere the hell have you been? I thought you died! Also, we're still dangling over death here!â
âMy apologies,â the whale replied. Its voice echoed with distortion, fragmented like static. âThe serpent coiled around my body and compressed several key parts, including those I use to maintain thought-link communication. I had to shut down some functions to compensate.â
It sounded strained, like it was speaking through a malfunctioning voice, every word buzzing with static tension.
Rein grimaced. âAlright, fine! Youâre alive. Now help us!â
Rein and Morin clung to the upper jaw of the whale as it slowly lifted them upward. Below them, the flow of magma had dwindled to a few sluggish drips, the torrent reduced to scattered embers.
Then came the familiar pull. An invisible current of wind rising from deep within the whale. No longer hanging vertically, they felt their bodies begin to tilt, drawn inward.
âYou can let go now,â the whale said.
Relief washed over Morinâs face. She exhaled a short breath and released her grip. Instead of falling, they gently floated, carried by the wind that cradled them like a breeze might a falling leaf.
The red, pulsing interior of the whale welcomed them back. But just before Rein was fully swallowed by the massive jaws, he caught one last glimpse of the chaos outside.
The serpent writhed in agony. Its scream tore through the void as magma still trickled down its immense, golden-scaled body. It twisted with such ferocity that Rein saw afterimages trailing behind it, like the beast had multiplied in its frenzy.
âLet us take advantage of this moment,â the whale said. âWhile the serpent is distracted by its pain, I will dive toward the barrier of the Overworld with full force. It will not be as steady as before, so brace yourselves inside me. Fortunately, the Veil of Madness lies only between the Outerworld and Overworld. We have passed through it. You no longer need to worry about staying asleep.â
As the serpent vanished from sight, swallowed by the walls of the whaleâs body, Rein felt something tighten in his chest. A strange, sharp prick of sympathy.
Even after all thatâafter the chaos, the pain, the near-deathâthey had escaped, and the serpent remained behind, still trapped. Still suffering.
It wasnât a malicious beast, but a victim. Twisted not by malice, but by madness. Stripped of freedom and agency by a force no one should face awake.
Rein couldnât shake the thought: Could it ever be helped?
The idea was absurd. The serpent was beyond him in every way. Power, size, existence. But even so, he knew he would carry that image with him. A godlike creature, once majestic, now bound to madness.
And he vowed, silently.
I wonât forget you.
Closing his eyes, Rein turned toward Morin, who was already drifting ahead of him, spinning and turning as if caught in a dance. Her hair fluttered weightlessly around her face, a soft smile curling her lips as she giggled. It was as if she had forgotten the life-threatening chaos just moments ago. Suspended in the whaleâs current, untouched by gravity, she radiated a kind of effortless joy.
And yet, signs of the ordeal still clung to her. Her face bore a faint pallor from blood loss, and small red patches from burns dotted her exposed skin. But she didnât seem to notice them. Or if she did, she simply chose not to care.
It was a scene of pure freedom.
If only every creature could be as free as her.
Then, a low swooshing sound sliced through the air behind him.
Instinctively, he turned and saw something massive and fast moving with the wind current, closing in on him. The light from outside silhouetted it, making its form difficult to distinguish. But it looked solid, heavy, like a chunk of debris.
One of the rocks that flowed out with the magma?
With barely any time to think, he gathered pneuma into his uninjured fistâthe one without broken fingersâand swung to intercept it. His punch connected.
But instead of shattering, the object didnât even slow. Pain exploded through his fingers and shot up his arm as he felt bones crack beneath the impact.
That wasnât a rock, he realized, right before the object slammed into his forehead.
Everything went black.
----------------------------------------
Rein awoke to the sound of familiar giggling. Above him, something floated, blurry and bright. He tried to raise a hand to clear his eyes, but the moment he moved both arms, a bolt of pain shot through them, sharp and immediate. The sudden agony made him instinctively tighten his core only to regret it as pain rippled through his abdomen like an aftershock.
Everything hurt.
With each small movement, he became more aware of the full extent of the damage: his entire body was aching. Bruised, burned, or broken in some way.
Then the memories returned. Morinâs kick, the energy blast, nearly having his hand crushed when she caught him mid-fall, his other hand fractured when he punched that not-a-rock before it collided with his skull.
He groaned and let himself collapse back down. Lying flat dulled the pain slightly, though it still clung to him like a heavy blanket.
In theory, he could pool his pneuma into injured areas to numb the pain and begin healing. At his level, the process would be slow, but still effective over time. The problem now was where to focus. Nearly every inch of him throbbed, and with his mind fogged and head spinning, precise control was out of the question.
Start with the head, he thought.
With what little clarity he had, he gathered a thin stream of pneuma and guided it to his skull, hoping to ease the dizziness and bring some semblance of focus back.
After a while, Rein's vision finally began to clear, his eyes adjusting to the dim, amber glow cast by the steady stream of magma flowing once again through the center, just like it had before the flood.
But the chamber had changed. The ground and walls now bore fresh scorch marks, and there was far more debris than before. Chunks of broken rock, scorched fragments, and jagged pieces scattered across the terrain, the flood having violently reshaped the interior.
Hovering above him was the same object heâd noticed upon waking. It darted wildly in different directions, moving erratically yet effortlessly through the air, completely unaffected by gravity. At first, its blurred shape made it hard to recognize, but the longer he watched, the more familiar it became.
It was the same thing that had knocked him out cold.
Roughly oval in shape, with one flat edge that made it resemble more of a dome than a perfect sphere, the object glimmered gold, its surface catching the orange reflections of the magma. But the most baffling part wasnât its appearance.
It was alive.
Or at least, it seemed to be. It giggled as it zipped through the air, laughter that unmistakably sounded like a young girlâs. That, paired with the familiar voice, left Rein with only one conclusion: Morin was somehow riding it.
âMorin, what are you doing?â he called out, still groggy.
From behind the zooming golden object, a small, mischievous face peeked out.
âFlying around,â Morin replied cheerfully, a radiant grin stretching across her face. Her silver hair streamed behind her like a cometâs tail as she spun and twirled through the air, her eyes sparkling with delight.