• Abysmal Arrival

The first thing Spheris saw was a mountain, one accompanied by others of the same altitude. Their peaks were obscured by incessant mist, and their rocks were with sharp edges, pointing to the red sky.

They didn't seem like normal mountains, it was almost like they were alive—seeing, feeling. In fact, nothing seemed normal in the bizarre place. 

The sky was as crimson as a cursed ruby, ablaze with an ominous red hue that poured its eerie red glow on the expanse of the barren wasteland.

Looking down, Spheris could see rivers of molten lava carving their paths through the rocky terrain, illuminating the dark recesses with their gleaming red and orange.

And that awful smell. It was the acrid stench of sulfur and decay, and the very familiar one of burning wood. It thickened the air with a noxious miasma, and Spheris could already feel himself getting sick.

"Holy Cousins, this place really is an abyss," Nero uttered.

Realizing who he was with, Spheris turned to the other Avatars, who were also trying to absorb the unsettlingness of their new surroundings.

He felt Talon balance himself on his shoulder, and he turned to the bird mirthfully. "You're not regretting coming with me, are you?"

Talon cawed.

"I know, but at least we're back together now," he petted the bird softly.

Nero looked at him. "Hey, I thought it was some sort of crazy rumor. But it's actually true! You talk to the raven!"

He approached Spheris then lowered his body to inspect the bird. "It's just a normal looking bird, I don't see what the big deal is." He tried to touch it.

"Don't touch Talon," Spheris said, his gaze stern. 

Nero looked up at him, a challenging look in his eyes. "Or what?" he asked, standing straight.

"Seriously? We're in the middle of the deadliest place in existence and you two want to fight it off?" Cerene hissed.

"The Heathian started it!"

"You're acting like a child, Nero!" Thorin admonished. "Focus on the situation we are in. We are inside The Abyss for Hell's sake!"

None of the Avatars spoke, and a solemn silence reign for a short moment. Spheris grew more aware of the respect Thorin had in this group, it was undeniable. He only couldn't ascertain why. Surely it wasn't because he had the highest ip? They were all still ranked NVC's.

He cast a gaze at the geography once more. As far as the eye could see, it undulated like the writhing coils of a primordial serpent. The chasms yawned open, revealing abyssal depths that seem to stretch into infinity. 

Strange flora—if it could even be called that—sprouted from the cracked earth, their twisted forms resembling dead grotesque stars. Spheris could even make out fungi with phosphorescent caps pulsating with the same reddish magma glow that danced across the jagged rocks.

There was no way this place came into existence on its own. It was a creation, and every creation had a creator. An artist. Yet whoever made this place had to be a mad one.

"The first thing we have to do is find shelter," Thorin announced. "Luckily for us, these mountains will provide plenty."

Was he serious? Spheris squinted. These mountains? They looked like they would rather clobber them to their deaths than grant them shelter.

"There should be caves beneath them, big enough to contain all of us." He then began to walk. "Come on."

"Why didn't they give us supplies?" Spheris inquired, halting everyone's starting steps. 

"What?" Thorin turned.

"Supplies?" he asked again, remaining still. "No food rations, no water, no herbs incase someone gets injured. No maps or any survival tools. There is no forage... at all."

"Hold on, the Heathian has a point," Nero agreed. "Why didn't we get supplies?"

"I didn't even think of that," Cerene frowned in thought.

"Don't worry about supplies!" Thorin declared, silencing everyone. "The Celestials don't allow for it, seeing that the idea is for us to survive on our own. But by midnight, each of our Wings will smuggle some inside for us."

"Well, how are we going to get it?" Nero asked the obvious question.

"You will."

As ambiguous as Thorin's answer was, it still held an air of assurance. One that settled on the Avatars quite easily.

"Are you satisfied, Spheris?" Thorin asked with a brow raised.

"Yes." he replied calmly.

"Alright then, let's go."

But just as they were about to take their first steps forward, a booming voice shattered the silence, reverberating through the desolate landscape with an frightening intensity. 

"Sons and Daughters of Dukes, Avatars of the Celestials. You have stepped foot in my kingdom, my domain. Your ignorant people have sent you here with the misguided aspiration of annihilating me, yet I assure you, all your endeavors will be futile."

Spheris and the other Avatars spun around, seeking the voice. But it was impossible. It echoed from all directions, seemingly emanating from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"If you harbor any remnants of sanity, flee this realm now, for your presence only hastens your demise. But should you foolishly choose to remain, know this: your fate is sealed. My beasts will hunt you relentlessly, and my domain will become your unyielding torment. You will be tested, you will suffer, until you fail... Until you die."