The cold never really left Lena anymore. It clung to her like a second skin, seeping into her bones, reminding her of the Bound Soul she had unraveled in the deep chamber. Every day since had felt like an echo of that moment—the soft sigh of the soul dissolving into mist, the whispers threading through her mind like icy fingers. She couldn't shake the sensation that, in unraveling that soul, she had unwound a part of herself, too.
And the whispers—they were louder now. Not in a frantic, overpowering way, but like a quiet, steady presence that refused to fade. They followed her everywhere, murmuring in the back of her thoughts, sometimes guiding, sometimes just there, filling the silence. Lena couldn't tell where their voices stopped and hers began anymore.
_We're with you. Always with you._
She sat on the edge of her stone bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at the dull stone walls of her chamber. The light from the torches in the hallway flickered faintly, casting shifting shadows on the floor. The fortress had grown colder since she'd first arrived. At least, that's how it felt to Lena. She wasn't sure if it was real or if the chill was just inside her, gnawing at her from the inside out.
She hadn't seen Azrael in two days. Or was it three? Time was strange in Hell, impossible to measure properly. The days bled together, each one filled with the same cold, the same whispering ghosts, the same endless corridors of stone. But the last time she'd seen him, after she'd unraveled the Bound Soul, there had been something different in his eyes—something calculating. She knew he was watching her more closely now, even if he hadn't said it out loud.
_He knows you're different._
Lena shuddered at the thought. She didn't know what was happening to her, didn't know why the whispers clung to her so tightly or why she could hear them when Azrael couldn't. But there was something else, too—something darker, deeper, that she was starting to feel in the pit of her stomach. A pull, almost, like a tether to the souls she unraveled. She hadn't told Azrael, and she wasn't sure she ever would.
The knock at the door was soft, but it jolted her out of her thoughts. She knew it was him before the door even opened.
Azrael stepped into the room, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the floor. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light, and the smirk that played on his lips was as sharp as ever.
"Get up," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "We're going out."
Lena's heart sank. "Out?" she asked, her voice hoarse from lack of use.
Azrael's smirk widened, but his eyes didn't warm. "Yes. Outside the fortress."
Her pulse quickened at the mention of leaving the fortress. She hadn't been outside since the day she'd arrived. The thought of venturing out into the wastelands of Hell sent a wave of dread through her, but there was something else too—curiosity.
"Why?" she asked cautiously, rising to her feet despite the stiffness in her legs. The cold had a way of settling into her muscles, making everything ache.
Azrael glanced at her, amused. "You've been working with the Bound Souls well enough," he said, his voice nonchalant. "But there's more to Hell than this fortress. You need to see it for yourself."
Lena swallowed hard, the unease in her chest tightening. See Hell for myself? The idea of wandering through the wasteland, the endless, jagged landscape she had only glimpsed when she first arrived, made her palms sweat. She wasn't sure she was ready for whatever horrors lay beyond the fortress walls.
Azrael must have seen the hesitation in her face because his smirk faded slightly, and he stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing. "You won't survive here if you don't understand what Hell truly is. Consider this... an education."
Lena forced herself to nod, even though her throat felt tight. She had no choice but to follow him, whether she wanted to or not. She was already trapped here, and there was no escaping Azrael's expectations.
He turned and strode out of the room without waiting for her, his coat billowing behind him like a cloak of shadow. Lena hurried after him, her heartbeat quickening with every step. The whispers in her mind were strangely quiet, as if they, too, were waiting to see what would happen next.
---
The fortress felt even colder as they moved through its winding corridors, descending deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of stone. Lena had been through many parts of the fortress already, but this path was unfamiliar. The walls grew narrower, the air more oppressive, until they reached a heavy iron door that looked like it hadn't been opened in centuries. It was covered in rust and etched with strange symbols—symbols Lena recognized from the Bound Souls chamber.
Azrael placed his hand on the door, and with a single push, it groaned open, revealing a narrow staircase that led downward, into darkness.
Lena hesitated, the cold air from the staircase brushing against her skin like icy breath. She could feel something lurking down there, something powerful and ancient, though she couldn't explain how she knew. It was the same pull she'd felt in the Bound Souls chamber, but stronger, deeper.
Azrael didn't wait for her to catch up. He descended the stairs without a word, his footfalls echoing off the stone walls. Lena swallowed her fear and followed him, her heart pounding in her chest with every step she took.
The staircase spiraled down for what felt like hours, the light from the torches growing dimmer the further they went. The air was thick and cold, and the whispers in Lena's mind stirred restlessly, though they didn't speak. They were waiting, watching.
Finally, they reached the bottom of the staircase, and Lena stepped into a wide, cavernous chamber. The air down here was colder than anywhere else she'd been, almost painfully so, and the dim blue light from the walls did little to warm it. The room was vast, the ceiling disappearing into shadow, and the floor was smooth, black stone, as if it had been polished by centuries of footsteps.
At the far end of the chamber, there was a massive set of doors—larger than anything Lena had ever seen. They were made of black iron, etched with even more intricate symbols, and they pulsed faintly with blue light, casting an eerie glow over the room.
Azrael stepped toward the doors, his movements slow and deliberate. "Beyond these doors lies Hell," he said softly, almost reverently. "The real Hell. Not the fortress. Not the souls you've been sorting. But the world outside. The chaos."
Lena's stomach twisted with dread as she stared at the doors. She could feel the power radiating from them, the raw, untamed energy of whatever lay beyond. The whispers in her mind surged again, louder now, more insistent.
_We're here. We're always here. Be careful._
Azrael turned to face her, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You'll be leaving the fortress from now on. There are more souls out there. More things you need to see. This is just the beginning."
Lena's mouth went dry, but she nodded, even though her body screamed at her to run in the opposite direction. She wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to face whatever horrors waited for her beyond those doors. But she had no choice.
Azrael pushed open the doors, and a blast of cold, biting wind hit Lena's face. The sound of the doors groaning echoed through the cavernous chamber as the light from outside spilled in, casting a pale, sickly glow over the floor. Lena's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, her legs shaky, her breath caught in her throat.
Beyond the doors was a vast, desolate wasteland. The ground was jagged and uneven, covered in dark, cracked stone that stretched endlessly in every direction. The sky above was a sickly red, like an open wound, casting a bloody glow over the landscape. Strange, twisted shapes loomed in the distance—towers of rock and bone that seemed to bend and twist impossibly, defying the laws of reality.
The wind howled through the wasteland, carrying with it a low, eerie hum that made Lena's skin crawl. It wasn't the wind she was hearing. It was something else. Something deeper. She could feel it in the air, in the ground beneath her feet, pulsing with a dark, ancient energy.
Lena stepped out onto the cracked ground, her heart racing, her legs trembling. The cold was biting, sharp, but it wasn't just the temperature. There was something about this place, something about the air itself that felt wrong, like it was charged with a power that didn't belong.
Azrael stepped up beside her, his eyes scanning the horizon. "This is Hell," he said softly, though his voice carried on the wind. "The real Hell. Not the controlled chaos of the fortress. Out here, there are no rules. No structure. Souls wander. Demons hunt. Everything that exists here is bound by the laws of power and pain."
Lena swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Why did you bring me here?"
Azrael's golden eyes gleamed as he turned to look at her. "Because you need to understand what you're dealing with. The souls you've been sorting in the fortress are just
fragments. Shadows. The ones out here... they're something else entirely."
Lena's stomach twisted with dread. "What do you mean?"
Azrael's smirk widened. "You'll see."
Without another word, he began walking, his boots crunching on the cracked stone. Lena followed him, her heart pounding in her chest. The landscape around them was desolate, lifeless, but she could feel the presence of something lurking just beyond the horizon. Something powerful.
The whispers in her mind stirred restlessly, their voices a constant hum, like static. They didn't speak, but Lena could feel their unease, their hesitation. Whatever was out here, it wasn't just dangerous. It was different.
After what felt like hours of walking, they reached a shallow ravine that cut through the landscape. The ground beneath their feet shifted as they descended into the ravine, the air growing colder and heavier with every step. Lena could feel the tension in the air, the strange, oppressive energy that seemed to seep from the very ground itself.
At the bottom of the ravine was a small, glowing pool of water, its surface rippling gently despite the absence of wind. The water glowed with an unnatural blue light, casting eerie reflections on the walls of the ravine.
Azrael stopped in front of the pool, his gaze fixed on its surface. "This is what you need to see."
Lena stepped closer, her heart pounding. "What... what is it?"
Azrael's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "This is a place where souls are born and reborn. It's where the most dangerous souls come from. The ones who defy Hell's laws. The ones who refuse to be sorted."
Lena's blood ran cold as she stared at the glowing water. She could feel the power radiating from it, the raw, chaotic energy that pulsed through the air. The whispers in her mind surged again, louder now, more urgent.
_Be careful..._
Azrael turned to her, his golden eyes gleaming. "You're going to deal with these souls next."
Lena's heart skipped a beat. "I... I don't know how."
Azrael's smirk returned, colder than ever. "You'll learn."
Lena's pulse quickened as she stared into the glowing pool, her hands trembling. She could feel the pull of the souls, the raw power they held. But more than that, she could feel the bond she had with them growing stronger, tightening around her like chains.
The whispers in her mind grew louder, insistent.
_We're here. We're always here._
Lena swallowed hard, her chest tightening with fear. She didn't know what lay ahead, didn't know how she was supposed to handle these new souls. But one thing was certain.
She wasn't alone.