His eyes snapped open, but only nothingness greeted him, as though he were blind.
"Huh?"
He was about to look around when an ancient voice echoed within the nothingness.
"Welcome, Challenger. I am the immortal spirit in charge of the abyss."
Challenger? Immortal spirit? Abyss?
What a weird lucid dream.
Though confused, he brushed it off. He assumed it was just part of a dream as he had fallen asleep on the bus. Just as he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing to try to wake up, the voice continued.
"For now, since you are a Consequenceless and your desired kin might be nonexistent in this abyss, I will first state the existing ones for hunting."
It added:
"Wraith, Echo, Shroud, Weaver, Leech…"
Bombarded with unfamiliar terms, the voice forced him to pay attention. He committed every word into his mind. When the voice stopped, he finally noticed its peculiarities and grew wary.
The voice reminded him of those pre-recorded ones, empty and monotonous. He couldn't even discern whether it came from a man or a woman.
At the same time, it sounded odd, resonating as if it were inside and outside his mind at the same time.
Consequenceless? Kin?
What the hell?
The voice interrupted his reverie again.
"If your desired kin is nonexistent, you may leave and explore other abysses instead."
It stopped for a moment, then continued:
"May I know your decision?"
"..."
He didn't reply. He couldn't.
For some reason, a growing sense of foreboding crept in.
Tightly closing his eyes, he hurriedly concentrated.
"Challenger?"
Wake up…
Wake up…
"Challenger?"
Wake—
"Boy!"
The boy opened his eyes in fright.
The ancient voice now sounded different, containing a hint of anger and irritation. It no longer sounded artificial.
"Boy… If you've come here to jest, then be gone! If you're frightened at your wit's end already, you're not suited to become a Fallen. Go back where you come from and remain as a mortal until you inevitably die in your twenties!"
For a moment, he was stunned, then grew even more cautious.
Though he saw nothing around him, the boy realized he could feel his limbs. So, he pinched his thigh tightly, only to feel the pain he expected.
I'm not dreaming…
Fallen? Die in your twenties?
Am I blindfolded? Kidnapped?
What the fuck is this?
By this point, disbelief and unease settled in. His mind worked at full capacity, racing to answer every question.
The boy finally spoke. His voice was rough and laced with wariness.
"Where… am I? Why can't I see anything?"
As he said this, he clenched his fists and prepared to fight.
"Are you stupid? You're at the chamber of the abyss. Of course, you wouldn't see anything at all. Didn't you come here?"
"Yeah—No… I was with my friends when I fell unconscious, then… I was here," the boy lied.
"Are you expecting me to laugh, boy!? No one can enter an abyss unconscious. You must personally touch the rune outside before you can even enter!"
"Tell me, boy, are you an abysswalker?"
"Do you know where my friends are?"
"I don't know where your friends are! Now answer my question!"
The boy thought about what the word meant for a while, then answered:
"...Yes"
The voice fell silent for a long time, then finally replied.
"That explains why you were so clueless. Since we're at this point already, I might as well explain it early. Listen carefully, boy!"
It followed:
"You're at an abyss. A trial for mortals aspiring to become a Fallen. Here, you can safely hunt abyssalspawns—vile, cruel, and bloodthirsty creatures of utter abomination. Simply put, incomprehensible demonic entities."
The voice lingered, then went on:
"These creatures are categorized by their physical traits and mystical powers, called kin. For now, all you need to know is to become a Fallen, you must kill an abyssalspawn, absorb its essence, and gain whatever it was. Their traits, mystical powers and…"
It paused, but longer.
"As well as their corrupted, wretched nature."
Hearing this, the boy fell silent.
He was utterly bewildered and quite frightened.
"You could leave now and remain a mortal. But you have to remember, in this world, there's no other way to survive and live longer—Calamities, corruption, perilous environments, magical beasts… and rogue abyssalspawns."
"As an abyssalwalker yourself, you should already know this. It's infinitely better to remain stuck at Ninth Consequence rather than stay a mortal."
"How could I trust you?"
With that, the voice fell silent.
Just as he wondered what had happened, a sword made from lightning materialized before him. It hovered inches from his face.
His mind turned blank as his blood ran cold.
Now, his facial features were faintly illuminated. He was a pale and scrawny young man, with scruffy chestnut brown hair and a distinctive mole just beneath his right eye.
Though his almond eyes showed fear, the boy quickly recovered his composure.
The sword crackled with incomprehensible power. If it struck him, then he was certain he would vanish.
Yet the boy stared at it fearlessly.
Finally, the voice spoke.
"Because if I wanted to harm you in the first place, I can pierce your head in a flash!"
With that, the lightning sword vanished, making him sigh in quiet relief.
Now, he was beyond certain he was in fact not dreaming at all.
Somehow, he had been transported to a bizarre magical world. As impossible as that might seem, this strange reality said otherwise.
He wanted to refute this fact, but he couldn't.
"Now, make your choice. In this world, power comes at a price. Survival is a luxury and reserved only for those who are determined enough. Growing stronger is only achieved by making sacrifices and taking risks!"
"Choose! Don't waste my essence! You have thirty-six hours to think."
The boy fell into contemplation.
Survive. And grow stronger, huh.
If I can grow stronger, then…
When he thought of survival, memories suddenly flashed in his mind. He remembered that on Earth, he did whatever he could just to survive. Because he had no choice.
At the same time, his thoughts drifted to his family.
In his mind, he saw a narrow alleyway, the ground dirt instead of concrete, littered with trash. The smell turned putrid. A nauseating mix of rot, urine, and decay hit his nose.
His thoughts stopped at a small, dilapidated house. It was built from tarps, scrap wood, and rusty metal sheets. Outside were wooden carts, junked appliances, and heaps of garbage.
Home…
Inside, the space was suffocatingly small and crowded with old, recycled items. The ceiling was cracked wood and decayed. The floor was made of cheap wallpaper. And the neon blue walls were obnoxious to look at.
On the bed, he saw his grandmother and little brother, sleeping peacefully.
His grandmother was frail, her back bent with age and her face etched with deep wrinkles.
The sight stabbed at his heart.
He remembered how she had worked relentlessly, just to earn money for a far below minimum wage. Begging on the streets or scavenging recycled items, all together just for a single meal.
Sometimes it wasn't enough. They had to survive on leftover food from garbage sites, then cleaned and recooked for consumption.
His gaze turned to his younger brother, lying naked on the bed. The heat was unbearable, and the electric fan barely worked.
All he ever wanted was to help his family escape this hellish life…
A life of living.
To adapt, is to survive.
Such is life.
"I've decided."
"... How fast and resolute. Very well."
"About the Weaver kin," he asked
Suddenly, bits of information flooded his mind about the Weaver kin. Their characteristics, physical traits, and mystical powers.
Amazing…
"Are you sure about your choice? There are a myriad of kin that only exist in other abysses. And every kin has their own strengths and weaknesses."
He made me choose quickly, then asked me whether I was certain or not?
The boy shook his head internally.
"Yes, I'm certain."
"Also, one thing I forgot to mention. Listen carefully, this part is very important. In the future, to climb the Hierarchy, you must integrate the exact kin. Understand?"
Hierarchy?
"Why?"
"You'll understand later once you're successful."
"Uhh… Is there a chance that I could… die?"
"No. Unless you're persistently stubborn and stupid, no. Abysses are trials, not burial grounds. I'll save you if things ever go wrong."
The boy let out a deep exhale.
"Now, what's your name?"
"Kaelos Ilogan," he said, changing its pronunciation to two syllables.
"Weapon of choice?"
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Kaelos thought of a bow. But then knowing he was untrained and considering his frail physique, a longer weapon seemed wiser.
"Spear."
After a moment, the voice replied, returning back to its earlier cadence:
"Kaelos Ilogan: challenger number six-hundred-sixty-six has been recorded."
"Bone age: nineteen has been recorded."
"Race: human has been recorded."
"Consequence: Consequenceless."
"Sanctuary: no permanent sanctuary. Abysswalker."
"Weapon: spear."
"Kin: Weaver."
With that, his vision shifted.
Light replaced darkness.