The moment Alara stepped into the Abyss, the world above vanished. The light of the Eternal Day, so omnipresent it often felt oppressive, was gone in an instant, swallowed by a silence that pressed on her ears like a physical weight.
She fell—not in the panicked, breathless way one might fall from a cliff, but in a slow, deliberate descent, as though unseen hands were guiding her deeper. The air was thick, clinging to her skin like mist, and her heartbeat was the only sound she could hear.
Her grip on the Veilglass tightened. Through its dark surface, the Abyss revealed its secrets: faint pathways made of glowing stones, arches formed from twisted, fossilized trees, and far below, a shifting sea of ink that churned and whispered.
"Kian," she called again, her voice lost in the vast expanse.
The Abyss responded. A ripple ran through the air, bringing with it a low hum that resonated in her chest. Shapes flickered in the shadows—too fast to make out, yet unmistakably watching.
She stumbled forward, her boots crunching on something brittle. Looking down, she saw shards of glass—no, not glass. Bones, smooth and dark like obsidian, scattered across the ground. A chill crept up her spine.
"Not real," she muttered under her breath. "It's not real."
But the Veilglass hummed, its vibration syncing with the pulse of the Abyss. The artifact was reacting, pulling her deeper, as if it had a will of its own.
Ahead, the faint light she'd seen earlier flickered again, sharper now, and closer. Alara broke into a run, ignoring the way the ground shifted beneath her feet.
"Kian!"
The light brightened, revealing a figure standing motionless in the distance. He was small, no more than ten years old, his silhouette so familiar it made her chest ache.
"Kian!" she cried, tears springing to her eyes.
But as she approached, the figure turned, and her heart stopped.
It wasn't Kian.
The boy's face was pale, his features distorted as though smeared by an unseen hand. His eyes were empty sockets, yet they seemed to see her, pinning her in place with an unnatural intensity. His lips moved, though no sound came out, and behind him, the shadows began to writhe.
A voice echoed in her mind, sharp and cold. "You shouldn't be here, Alara."
She staggered back, the Veilglass slipping from her grasp. As it hit the ground, the world around her shifted violently, and for a moment, she could see beyond the Abyss—beyond the shadows.
The boy was no boy at all. He was something else entirely. His form twisted, his limbs elongating, his face splitting into a grotesque grin that stretched far too wide. The shadows around him surged forward, a tidal wave of darkness that swallowed everything in its path.
"No!" Alara screamed, snatching up the Veilglass. The artifact flared with a blinding light, and the shadows recoiled.
The boy-thing hissed, its voice a thousand whispers layered atop one another. "You cannot save him. The Abyss has already claimed its own."
Before Alara could react, the creature dissolved into the darkness, leaving her alone once more.
She collapsed to her knees, clutching the Veilglass to her chest. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with fear and rage.
"This isn't over," she whispered, her voice shaking but resolute. "I will find him. I don't care what you are. I'll bring him back."
Somewhere in the distance, the Abyss chuckled—a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind.
And deep below, the ink churned, waiting.