The void stretched endlessly, a canvas of absolute nothingness. For eons, it had been Kailus's playground, though he'd grown tired of the same tricks. Creating stars was exciting the first thousand times; now, they were just glittering trinkets scattered in the distance. Entire worlds shaped and shattered at his whim, yet even the chaos failed to entertain him anymore.
Kailus reclined on an invisible throne, his chin resting lazily on one hand as his golden eyes gleamed with faint curiosity. A flick of his fingers birthed a swirling nebula; another reduced it to dust. He sighed. "Pathetic."
Out of boredom, he began rifling through the threads of existence. Souls swirled around him—lost, drifting, insignificant specks. He nudged a few, rearranged their destinies, and yawned. Then, he found her.
The soul was jagged, raw, unlike the others. A displaced thing, yanked from another world and thrust into a fragile body. She stood out like a thorn amidst silk. Kailus leaned forward, intrigued. "Now, what are you doing here?"
The woman stumbled through a barren wasteland of his design—a patchwork world cobbled together from fragments of his earlier creations. Ruined castles jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and the air shimmered with an unnatural haze. She clutched a rusted sword, her breath ragged, her eyes darting for threats.
Kailus smiled. "Oh, I like her already."
With a thought, he conjured a beast—a towering monstrosity with too many eyes and not enough skin. He watched as the woman froze, her grip tightening on the hilt. "Run," he whispered, his voice rippling through the air like a gentle breeze she couldn't hear.
But she didn't run. Instead, she raised the sword, her expression steeled with defiance. The beast lunged. Kailus leaned back, fascinated.
To his surprise, she didn't die. A clumsy swing found its mark, the sword embedding itself into the creature's neck. It shrieked, collapsed, and dissolved into ash. The woman stood over the remains, trembling but victorious.
Kailus laughed—a sound that echoed across the void, though no one else could hear it. "Oh, this will be fun."
He waved a hand, resetting the world around her. The ruins grew darker, more ominous. The air grew colder. Her path twisted and turned into a maze of shadows.
"Let's see how long you can last," Kailus murmured, reclining once more.
And thus, the game began.
***
Lira PoV:
The air was thick, like it was trying to choke me. Every breath felt like swallowing smoke, but I kept moving. Stopping wasn't an option. Not here.
The sword in my hand was a joke—rusted, dull, and far too heavy for someone like me. It didn't matter. It was all I had, and I wasn't letting it go. My fingers ached from gripping the hilt so tightly, but the pain was a good thing. It reminded me I was still alive.
I don't remember how I got here. One moment, I was falling asleep in my old, broken-down room, the draft of winter wind nipping at my face. The next, I woke up in this place. Ruins stretched out around me, crumbling towers and shattered walls that seemed to go on forever.
The world felt… wrong. Not like the forgotten castles of my childhood stories, but something stitched together by hands that didn't care about the details. The ground shifted when I wasn't looking, walls moved, and every path seemed to lead back to where I started.
I tightened my grip on the sword. It didn't make sense, but nothing here did.
A low growl echoed through the air, snapping me to attention. I froze. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a warning drum. Slowly, I turned toward the sound.
It came out of the shadows—a creature I couldn't have dreamed up even in my worst nightmares. Its skin was missing in places, patches of raw muscle glistening in the dim light. Too many eyes blinked at me, each one filled with malice.
Run.
The thought screamed in my head, louder than the growl. My legs twitched, ready to bolt, but I forced them still. Running wouldn't work. I'd seen how fast these things were.
If it caught me, I'd die. If I stayed, I might still die. But at least I'd go down fighting.
I raised the sword, the weight of it nearly pulling me off balance. "Come on, then," I muttered, more to myself than the beast.
It lunged.
Instinct took over. I swung the blade, clumsy and wild, and felt it connect. The creature screamed, a high-pitched sound that made my teeth ache. It staggered back, black ichor pouring from the gash I'd left in its neck.
I didn't give it time to recover. Before I could think about what I was doing, I swung again, and again, until the beast collapsed into a heap of ash at my feet.
I stood there, trembling, staring at the remains. My chest heaved, my arms burned, and my legs threatened to give out. But I was alive.
For now.
Somewhere in the distance, I swore I heard a laugh.
I stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the pile of ash that used to be the creature. My arms shook so badly I could barely keep the sword up, but I didn't let go. Not yet.
Was it dead? Could things like that even die?
The laugh came again, faint but clear. It wasn't close, but it wasn't far enough away for my liking either. It echoed like it didn't belong here, weaving through the air with an ease that mocked my struggle to breathe.
I turned, scanning the ruins, but there was no one there. No one ever was. Only shadows that moved when I wasn't looking, and walls that rearranged themselves like they had minds of their own.
"Who's there?" My voice cracked, hoarse from days—weeks?—of silence.
No answer. Just the laugh, fading as if it were retreating, like it had found what it wanted and didn't need to linger.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to move. The ash scattered under my boots, a grim reminder of how close I'd come to dying. The sword was heavier now, or maybe I was just more tired.
Every step forward felt like a gamble, the shifting stones beneath me threatening to give way at any moment. The ruins whispered in my ears—nonsense sounds, like a hundred people speaking all at once in a language I couldn't understand.
It was always like this here. This world didn't want me, didn't care if I lived or died.
I used to wonder why I was here. Why I'd been taken from… wherever I came from. The memories were blurry now, like trying to see my reflection in murky water. A face, a name, a purpose—I'd had them once, but they'd slipped away the longer I stayed here. All I had left was my name.
Lira.
I repeated it to myself like a mantra, holding onto it as tightly as I held the sword. If I forgot that, I'd have nothing.
Another growl tore through the air, but this time it was distant. I stopped, my breath hitching.
They never gave me time to rest.
I looked up, searching for the sky, but there wasn't one. Just a swirling void of black and gray that seemed to stretch forever. No sun, no stars, no end.
I wondered if anyone else had ever been here, or if I was the first.
Another laugh. Louder this time.
My stomach twisted. It wasn't a kind laugh, wasn't warm or inviting. It was mocking, playful in the way a predator might play with its prey.
"You think this is funny?" I shouted, my voice echoing back at me.
Of course, no answer.
I kept moving. There was no point in stopping, no point in asking questions that no one would answer. Survival was all that mattered.
But as I walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching me.