Chapter 56: Illusions of Home, Heralds of Doom

Outside the ancient city, a thick mass of dark clouds hung low in the sky, blotting out the heavens and casting an ominous shadow across the land.

The clouds churned slowly, like a living thing breathing in anticipation, as if the sky itself wished to devour the city whole.

Darkness descended relentlessly.

With each passing second, traces of the ancient city began to fade, swallowed bit by bit by the encroaching blackness.

Buildings blurred at their edges, walls dissolved into shadows, and streets vanished as though they had never existed.

From within the darkness came ghostly screams and anguished wails.

They reverberated endlessly, echoing through the void and gnawing at the soul.

The screams were nerve-racking, sharp, piercing, and raw with despair.

Among them were the unmistakable cries of infants.

Soft at first.

Fragile.

Then twisted.

With every heartbeat, the cries warped, blending into desperate human pleas filled with terror and madness.

“Save me… don’t go…”

“Mother… don’t eat me…”

“Son, come and eat my hand…”

“Don’t worry… nothing can separate us…”

“Wwa—Wwa… M-my mummy… d-daddy…”

“My child… my child…”

“Hahahaha… N-now… is my… chance… where do you think… you’re… going… hahahaha!”

The voices overlapped chaotically, each layered atop another, forming a chorus of suffering so warped that it no longer sounded human.

Mothers cried out as they searched endlessly for their children.

Fathers screamed as they tried and failed to protect their sons and daughters.

Some voices were steeped in madness, others in vengeance, and some were filled with twisted delight.

Then, without warning, the screams ceased.

The silence lasted only a heartbeat.

It was replaced by laughter.

Hahahahaha.

The laughter rolled through the city like a tidal wave. At first, it sounded as though countless people were laughing together joyful, carefree, and warm.

But then it shifted.

The laughter became distorted.

Grating.

Sharp.

It blended together in the most unnatural way, voices merging as if being consumed one by one.

What had once sounded like many became fewer, and fewer still, until only a single voice remained.

That laughter was different.

Low.

Crooked.

Horrifying.

As it echoed endlessly, the darkness over the ancient city deepened further. From within the black shroud, vague outlines of human figures began to appear.

Each time one emerged, it was the same.

Lifeless faces.

Long black spears impaled straight through their eyes.

They stared forward blankly for a brief moment, unmoving, before being dragged back into the darkness as though restrained by an unseen force.

Inside the ancient city, the former magnificence was gone.

The clean cobblestone streets had vanished, replaced by cracked, dry mud riddled with craters.

Buildings lay in ruins.

Broken doors hung uselessly from their hinges, shattered beams littered the ground, and scattered bricks formed jagged piles of debris.

Most houses had collapsed entirely, their walls torn apart by time or violence.

Yet the most shocking sight was not the destruction.

It was the people.

Human phantoms emerged from the ruined houses, their forms translucent and faintly glowing.

Each wore a serene smile, their expressions filled with warmth and contentment.

Families reunited.

Mothers hugged their children.

Fathers waved goodbye as though heading to work.

Husbands whispered inaudible words into their wives’ ears, laughter soft and gentle.

They closed broken doors and shattered windows as if they were whole.

Inside the homes, phantom wives cooked meals on stoves that no longer existed, serving food to children who eagerly gathered around empty tables.

The scenes were beautiful.

Peaceful.

Heartbreaking.

They painted the image of a thriving city, frozen in a perfect moment of happiness.

But it was all an illusion.

At the heart of the main street stood the once-towering temple. Though its structure lay in ruins, human phantoms in priestly robes moved calmly through its shattered halls.

They climbed broken staircases that led nowhere, conducting sacred prayers before collapsed altars.

Beyond the phantoms, lining the streets, stood thousands of stone statues.

Military statues.

Their formations were flawless.

Perfect.

One step at a time, their heavy stone feet struck the ground in unison.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

They marched toward the heart of the city with terrifying coordination.

Within the palace grounds, little had changed.

Phantom maids and servants moved briskly through corridors, carrying invisible trays and performing tasks with practiced efficiency.

Stone statues patrolled every quarter, their eyes glowing faintly as they guarded halls long abandoned.

Everything felt alive.

Too alive.

Inside the palace’s grand hall, stone ministers stood frozen mid-debate.

Their mouths moved, and though no sound emerged, the illusion of discussion was unmistakable.

At the sacred mountain beyond the city, the dead trees that once surrounded it had transformed into lush greenery.

Thick branches overflowed with unnatural vitality, leaves rustling despite the absence of wind.

The mountain itself radiated ancient power far beyond anything the Abyss’s first floor had ever contained. Cracks that once scarred its surface had faded into nothingness, as though erased by time.

At its base, the ancient gate pulsed violently, releasing waves of terrifying dark energy.

Standing before the gate were tens of thousands of stone warriors—alive.

Their stone eyes burned with awareness as they awaited command.

Leading them was a woman seated atop a massive wolf-like beast with four glowing eyes.

She wore form-fitting stone armor that accentuated her powerful physique, and in her grasp was a long, deadly scythe wreathed in dark energy.

She raised her weapon and pointed it toward the open gate, speaking in an unknown tongue.

“&$$^&^&#**#@!”

“^$$#&^&$!”

The army responded as one, raising their weapons and screaming in a thunderous war cry.

The ground trembled violently, and the ancient city pulsed as if responding to their call.

Thud! Thud!

The woman urged her mount forward, charging toward the gate with savage intent. She entered first, her army following closely behind.

Moments later, the tens of thousands of stone warriors vanished beyond the gate.

…

…

Far from the ancient city, atop a hill composed of bones, shattered weapons, and cracked skulls, a group clad in black robes watched silently.

Beneath their hoods, their gazes pierced through distance and darkness alike.

“Everything is in place,” one of them announced in a genderless voice.

Silence followed.

Then.

“Haha… now it is time for our reward,” another voice said, excitement dripping from its tone.

“Everything went according to plan,” a third added.

“From today onward, the Abyss’s first floor will belong to us.”

“Glory to our lord,” they spoke in unison.

In the next instant, their figures blurred and vanished, racing toward the ancient city at blinding speed.

Unbeknownst to them.

Their plan had already taken a twisted turn.

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