Chains of the Living

The rift spat Avery and Kael out into a Veil that seemed alive.

The sky above was bruised purple and black, streaked with threads of pale lightning that hummed faintly, like veins of some unseen creature. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, a shifting mosaic of shattered stone, ash, and faintly glowing cracks that pulsed like weak hearts. Shadows stretched long and jagged, moving against the grain of physics, curling toward the air as though reaching for prey.

Avery swallowed. Their palms burned with the sigil’s fire. Every line pulsed in time with their heartbeat—or maybe it was their heartbeat. The tether pulled toward something faintly glowing in the distance: their mission target, the corrupted soul.

Kael stepped beside them, scythe balanced across their shoulders, eyes scanning the horizon. “Focus,” they muttered. “It’s already drawn attention. Wraiths will smell it. They’ll come, and they’ll come hungry.”

Avery nodded, stomach tightening. Their legs trembled, but they forced themselves forward, each step crunching against stones that didn’t entirely exist. Mist curled around their ankles, thick and cold, smelling faintly of burnt ash and wet soil. Shadows slithered across the ground, whispering faintly, voices like fingernails on metal.

There, just ahead, pulsed a faint glow. A soul, corrupted and twisted, hung midair, wrapped in threads of black smoke. Its shape was humanoid but warped—arms too long, eyes hollow pits that flickered with pale green fire. It thrashed weakly, emitting a faint wail that scraped against Avery’s ears.

“Do you see it?” Kael asked, crouching slightly. “That’s your target. Keep your tether steady. You pull, you don’t flinch. You hesitate, it’s gone. Again.”

Avery swallowed hard. Their hands shook as they reached toward the soul. Threads of light extended from their sigil, tangling gently around the corrupted form. The tether pulled, delicate but insistent. The soul resisted, writhing violently, and Avery felt it tug back like a living weight.

“Steady,” Kael murmured. “It’s like wrestling a storm. Feel it. Don’t fight it too hard, or it’ll snap.”

Avery swallowed hard. Their hands shook as they reached toward the soul. Threads of light extended from their sigil, tangling gently around the corrupted form. The tether pulled, delicate but insistent. The soul resisted, writhing violently, and Avery felt it tug back like a living weight.

“Steady,” Kael murmured. “It’s like wrestling a storm. Feel it. Don’t fight it too hard, or it’ll snap.”

Avery focused, teeth clenched, sweat stinging their eyes. The threads glowed brighter as the soul’s light flickered, pulsing with an unstable rhythm.

A sudden scream tore through the air. Shadows exploded upward—Wraiths, dozens of them, jagged and spindly, eyes white-hot with hunger, claws scraping the air. Their howls shook the Veil, making the stones shiver beneath Avery’s feet.

“Move!” Kael shouted, spinning the scythe in a lethal arc. Shadow and fire collided with a screech. The Wraith lunged, recoiling only slightly as the blade tore through its form, but more surged forward. Avery stumbled backward, tether stretching dangerously.

The corrupted soul flared, its threads snapping against Avery’s palm. The sigil burned white-hot. Pain shot up their arm, threatening to knock them off their feet. “I-I can’t!” Avery gasped.

“Yes, you can!” Kael snapped, eyes blazing. “Pull! Now! Or it’s gone!”

Avery gritted their teeth, digging deep. They visualized the soul’s light, imagined it as something human, something alive and begging not to be lost. They yanked, tugging with every ounce of strength they could muster. The threads flared, wrapping the soul tighter, drawing it toward them.

For a moment, hope. The soul’s chaotic form began to solidify, glowing steadily, as if recognizing Avery’s pull. Victory seemed close, so close they could taste it.

Then the Wraith’s clawed hand shot out from the shadows, catching the soul in a violent swipe. It twisted, black smoke enveloping the tether, and Avery felt the pull jerk sharply. The soul screamed—shrill, desperate—and disappeared into the darkness of the Veil, snatched from their grasp.

“No!” Avery screamed, falling to their knees, chest heaving.

Kael’s scythe flashed, slicing a Wraith in half, sending shards of shadow scattering. “Damn it!” Kael hissed. They lunged forward, cutting a path through the remaining predators, their movements fluid, precise, merciless.

Avery’s hands shook, the sigil still pulsing faintly, as though scolding them. The Veil felt heavier now, darker, suffocating. The corrupted soul was gone, and the echo of its wail lingered, twisting into the wind.

Kael turned to them, eyes blazing, pale fire in their gaze. “Do you see what hesitation costs?”

Avery swallowed hard, tears stinging their eyes. “I tried…”

“Tried doesn’t matter!” Kael snapped. “Almost doesn’t count. That soul is lost. You want to survive here? You do. Not might, not almost—you do.”

Avery’s hands clenched into fists, sigil burning painfully. “I… I understand. I won’t—”

Kael’s expression softened slightly, just for a heartbeat. “Good. You better. Because this is only the beginning. There’s more waiting in the Veil, and they’re not forgiving.”

Avery’s stomach dropped. They forced themselves to stand, shoulders trembling, heart hammering. The Veil stretched endlessly ahead, alive with shadow, light, and hungry whispers. Somewhere within it, the corrupted soul—and countless dangers—waited.

And Avery knew, with a clarity that cut through fear, that they were already in too deep.