Chapter 94 – The Abyssborne Hound

  Darkness clung to the underground chamber, the air thick with the lingering scent of blood, burnt flesh, and something far worse—the scent of creation twisted beyond its natural form.

  Antru lay on the cold stone floor, his body on the brink of collapse. His limbs, once strong, were now little more than skin stretched over brittle bones. Every breath was a battle, his ribs aching from malnourishment, his body screaming for rest.

  But his mind refused to break.

  He had endured. Through chains, through torment, through the suffocating weight of captivity, he had endured. He would not kneel.

  And yet—

  Something inside him was beginning to fracture.

  At first, it was subtle. A whisper of doubt, a tremor in his once-unshakable faith. He had always believed that willpower alone could sustain him, that no matter how deep the abyss, he would never falter.

  But now—even willpower had its limits.

  A sudden shift in the atmosphere pulled him from his thoughts.

  His instincts, dulled by starvation yet still whispering in warning, told him something had changed. Something unnatural had awakened.

  With great effort, Antru turned his head, his vision swimming, his breath shallow.

  And then—he saw it.

  A beast.

  A black wolf unlike any he had ever seen before.

  No. Not a wolf. Not anymore.

  This thing—this monstrosity—stood unnaturally tall, its head nearly brushing the roof of the chamber. Its fur was blacker than night, absorbing the dim light, swallowing it whole like a void in reality itself.

  Every inch of its massive body pulsed with an unearthly presence, its veins bulging with faint, glowing lines—runes carved into its very flesh. Its limbs were thick with unnatural muscle, its claws like obsidian blades, glinting under the eerie glow of the chamber’s formations.

  And its eyes.

  Molten gold, burning with something that should not exist.

  The beast did not move like a mere animal. It did not twitch, did not blink with instinctive caution. It watched, silent and still, its golden eyes locked onto Antru with something disturbingly human—something knowing.

  Antru’s breath caught in his throat.

  The wolf exhaled, and from its maw seeped a faint black mist—not smoke, not breath, but something else. Something alive.

  His body trembled against his will.

  His mind screamed at him to look away, to break free from the suffocating weight of the wolf’s presence.

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  But he could not.

  Antru had never feared beasts. He had battled creatures far stronger than himself, stood his ground against overwhelming odds.

  But this was not a creature born of nature.

  This was something created.

  And then, he saw Eo.

  Eo stood before the beast, unmoving, his form eerily still. His body pulsed with faint energy, his tendrils coiling around him like living shadows, remnants of the experiment that had just taken place.

  He was observing.

  Not in awe. Not in fear.

  In satisfaction.

  This thing—this twisted, abyssal wolf—was his doing.

  And in that moment, something in Antru cracked.

  He had endured everything. The chains, the torment, the suffering. He had convinced himself that, no matter what, he would never truly break.

  But this.

  This was something he could not understand.

  Something beyond his faith.

  His lips moved without sound, murmuring words he had once spoken with certainty. A prayer—not to the gods, not to the heavens, but to something greater, something he had always believed in.

  For the first time, his faith wavered.

  Because if no one answered him now, then perhaps—perhaps nothing would.

  Aelith had once been proud.

  Once, she had been a warrior, a woman of strength, of resilience. A woman who refused to kneel.

  But now?

  Now, she was nothing.

  Her body, once firm and strong, was hollowed out by starvation. Her wrists, bruised and scarred from bindings, felt like they could snap with a single wrong movement.

  She had been reduced to a beggar, barely clinging to life.

  She had resisted. Oh, how she had fought.

  But Eo did not break people through pain alone.

  He broke them with something far worse.

  With understanding.

  With showing them what they truly were—insignificant.

  She had tried to deny it. She had clung to her hatred, her defiance.

  But when she saw the wolf, when she saw what Eo had done, something deep inside her collapsed.

  She had thought she knew power.

  But this was something else.

  This was not power born from skill, nor from training, nor from will.

  This was something unnatural, something that should not be.

  Her eyes darted between the monstrous wolf and the one who had created it.

  Eo.

  The creature before him had once been weak, a dying pup abandoned by fate.

  And now, it was something beyond comprehension.

  She wanted to believe this was a trick, an illusion, a deception crafted by her weary mind.

  But no—this was real.

  She could feel the beast’s presence. She could see the unnatural way its body moved, how the sigils carved into its flesh throbbed like a second heartbeat.

  She had once believed she could stand against Eo.

  That she could fight him, resist him, survive him.

  But now, as she stared at his creation, she finally understood.

  There was no fighting him.

  No resisting him.

  No surviving him.

  Not as she was now.

  Something inside her shattered.

  Her pride, her belief that she still had a chance—it crumbled into dust.

  Her lips trembled.

  Her breath was unsteady.

  For the first time, Aelith felt something she had never truly allowed herself to feel before.

  Despair.

  The black wolf took its first step.

  The chamber shuddered beneath its weight, the faint glow of its runes illuminating the space with a haunting light. Its molten-gold eyes burned, its presence overwhelming.

  Antru and Aelith, bound by chains, watched in helpless silence.

  Eo finally spoke.

  “…A success.”

  His voice was calm, measured, filled with something that was not quite satisfaction, but something close.

  He reached out, his tendrils brushing against the wolf’s massive frame. The creature did not flinch, did not react with instinctual aggression.

  It simply watched him.

  Obedient.

  Loyal.

  Bound.

  Eo turned slightly, his gaze shifting—not toward the wolf, but toward them.

  Antru.

  Aelith.

  Thorne, unconscious and wasting away.

  “…Soon,” Eo murmured, his voice unreadable. “You will understand.”

  Aelith shook, gripping her own arms, her breath ragged.

  Antru lowered his gaze, his faith cracking further with every second.

  And the abyssborne wolf stood unmoving, awaiting its master’s command.