Pain.
That was the first thing Kairo felt.
Not the sharp kind that made you cry out. This pain was quiet. Endless. Like his soul had been dragged across rusted blades, then stitched back together with barbed wire.
The ground beneath him pulsed. It wasn't soil. It was warm and wet — too soft, too rhythmic. It breathed beneath him, a steady thud like a heartbeat. Each beat rattled through his spine.
His eyes fluttered open.
The sky was red.
Not crimson, not ruby. But an overbearing, soul-choking red. It stretched forever, like someone had cracked the sky open and poured blood into the void. There were no stars.
Kairo coughed - a dry, retching sound. The air was toxic. Metallic, sulfurous, acrid. Every breath tore at his throat. It smelled like rusted iron, scorched stone, and something unholy he didn't want to name.
"Where… am I?"
His voice came out like a whisper dragged over broken glass.
He tried to stand. His limbs betrayed him, twitching and trembling. When he finally rose, his knees nearly buckled.
Around him stretched a landscape from nightmares. Towers of bone jutted from the ground, twisted into unnatural spirals. Rivers - no, veins - of glowing gold and magma slithered through jagged canyons. Trees without leaves, their bark blackened and peeling, swayed without wind. The very ground shifted beneath his feet like it was watching.
Shadows moved in the distance.
Too large to be human.
And then - he saw it.
A hulking creature, crouched over a pit. Its body was misshapen, skin blistered with open sores, fangs jutting out in crooked angles. It tore into something. Flesh. Still twitching.
It stopped.
Lifted its grotesque head.
Sniffed the air.
Its eyes - glowing, hollow pits of yellow - locked onto him.
Kairo didn't think.
He ran.
The world responded like it had been waiting.
The ground cracked behind him, boiling liquid hissing from the gaps. Jagged rocks shifted to trip him. Screams echoed from nowhere. Whispers slithered into his ears, words in no language he knew - yet they meant something. Mockery. Curiosity. Hunger.
He stumbled. A root - no, a tentacle-like vine - coiled around his ankle. He yanked free, tumbled down a slope of crushed bones. Skulls grinned at him as they cracked underfoot.
He slammed into a stone slab. Pain flared through his shoulder. Blood soaked his sleeve.
He barely registered it.
The creature was still coming. Not fast. But steady. Patient.
It didn't need speed.
It knew this world.
He didn't.
He scrambled up and dove into a narrow crevice between two cliffs. The space was tight. Smothering. Sharp rocks dug into his back. But it was dark — and for now, it was safe.
Silence.
For the first time since falling…It was silent.
He sat there. Shaking. Breathing shallowly. Thoughts scattered.
What was this place?
How had he gotten here?
His last memory was school. Ordinary. Mundane.
Then the sky broke.
And now...
The wall beside him vibrated. A low hum - deep and ancient - rumbled through the stone.
He turned. A faint glow emerged.
A symbol, etched into the rock like it had always been there.
A wing. A sword. A crown.
The lines shimmered with burning white light, too bright for this hellish world.
And beneath it, carved in a language his mind should not have understood -
"The Apostle has arrived."
His breath caught in his throat.
What?
He stared. The words didn't fade. They waited, like a judgment.
Apostle?
He looked down.
His chest… it was glowing.
Beneath the torn fabric of his shirt, something pulsed. The exact same symbol, burned into his skin like a brand. He yanked the shirt down, tried to rub it off, claw it away - but it wouldn't go. It was part of him.
His heart pounded.
"What the hell is this…?"
Suddenly, the whispers returned - louder. Closer.
"The Apostle..."
"He has come..."
"Does Heaven send its blade... or its bait...?"
Eyes opened in the walls. Dozens. Hundreds. Watching. Smiling.
Kairo backed up against the rock, shaking.
He hadn't fallen here by chance.
He hadn't been thrown into hell.
Hell was expecting him.