I sidestep again, dodging another strike of its tentacles, learning the pattern. He isn't faster than I am. The whole time he is humming that song—no, the song is in the Mist that comes from him. Every time I carve a piece of him away, it falls, twitches, and turns into Mist. More pulses pour from his wounds in thick, rhythmic waves, a sickly, infected green-yellow, like the discharge of an old wound. It's acidic. It stings my skin and bites at my retinas, forcing me to snap my eyes shut and rely entirely on my Perception.
"You are indeed like me," his voice sounds like a grandfather who could only give good advice. "You can hear the ultimate truth and don't shatter like the minds of my vessels."
Ultimate truth? What is he talking about? His song?
"The truth is always a gate to a broad world of ignorance in which we know more, but less at the same time," I reply. I expand my focus, targeting each one of the tentacles he uses to attack. [Reality's Blade]
The scream is psychic—a small, focused pulse strong enough to liquefy a human's brain.
"Why do you keep trying to hurt me? We are the same." He is angry now, but his tone remains cold and detached. The wounds start healing; I can see the tentacles slowly regenerating. I cut again, the last four tentacles.
And nothing happens.
Nothing.
After spending precious Vitality, I finally conclude that I cannot hurt him anymore. I've reached a threshold where the damage I can deal is inferior to his healing capacity.
"I am the Mist. You cannot kill the Mist," he tells me, aware that I've reached the same conclusion. "It is a blessing from my father, like my song."
"Why share such a precious song with meaningless mortals who could never appreciate it?" I reply.
Then, he uses it. The reproductive limb. His pride. It lashes out. I dodge it, an unnatural feeling of panic blooming in my chest. I should not let him touch me with that appendage. I try to slash it, but the [Reality's Blade] I managed to cast is microscopic against it and cannot hurt it at all.
"Yes, they cannot appreciate it. But they are soil," his voice is pure conviction now. "They are vessels for my children, and together we will spread the song all over the surface. It will be so beautiful that my father will awaken once again and sing the real song. You should have joined me. I never thought I would meet a being like you—a being who could enjoy the song. It is a pity."
"Pity?" I reply. This thing feels pity? For an instant, I feel superior, for I do not pity my prey.
"Now you will meet your end," he proclaims. "At least you will die for the song."
"No. My time has not come yet." I manifest [Reality's Blade]. This time, I put almost all my usable Vitality into it, and it slices my target.
The scream is so intense that, ironically, it grounds me. It prevents the violence in my being from taking over, allowing me to focus just enough to cast a portal and escape.
I land heavily on the marble tiles of the vault. I cannot kill him. Lilith was right.
"Here..."
A body has straddled me. Her lips are pressed against mine. I feel essence, but it is intoxicating—scented with jasmine, if such a thing is possible for energy. I open my eyes and see her. The more she gives me, the clearer I know who she is. Lilith. I wrap my arms around her. Her laugh is victorious as I drink more of her essence, more and more until my Vitality is back to a level where the violence won't cloud my mind. I leave her gasping on the floor, exhausted, yet she looks triumphant.
"Thank you..." I tell her. She giggles.
"The next time, let it be you who fills me up with his essence," she replies.
"We'll see." I open a portal. I need more essence. I need to get to the prey I left on that barren planet. They must be ready for consumption.
As I am about to cross the threshold toward the barren planet, she wakes.
"Vance..."
I turn and walk toward her. Aria is lying on the floor among the others—Lilith has lined them up like the sick. Her hair has turned a ghostly silver, and her pupils have bled into a dark, bruised red. This is not the innocent woman I met.
The sight of her angers me. I feel insulted. I feel powerless. I feel a burning need to return to that temple and make that thing suffer for every second of agony it forced upon her. Is it because I care for her? No. It's because she is mine, and that bastard dared to lay a tentacle on what belongs to me.
"There is something off with her," Lilith adds, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "With all of them."
The moment she finishes, the screaming begins. It is a collective, rhythmic chorus of despair.
"Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! The silence! We can't! The silence! Master! We need you! Ahhhhhhh!"
It is shocking. What in the actual hell did that monster do to them?
"Let us hear your song again!"
They begin to crawl, their nails dragging against the marble tiles in the direction of Silver Harbor. They don't care that a wall is in their path or that this is an enclosed environment. I know what will happen; they will try to claw through the stone with their bare fingers and teeth until their bodies are nothing but lifeless carcasses. Aria is just like them—another victim of the frequency.
"Put them to sleep, Lilith," I order.
She shrieks, a chilling, sonic pulse that ripples through the vault. Soon, the women go limp, returning to a fitful sleep.
"Done. Are you happy now?" Lilith asks. One of the straps of her dress has fallen off her shoulder; she smiles when she notices my eyes follow it. But my Vitality is too low; my instincts are reclaiming control of my mind by the second.
"Wait for me. I need to recover strength," I answer.
"You don't intend to go back, do you?" she asks, genuine worry breaking through her playful mask. "It's a miracle you came out alive!"
"Wait here. Keep them sleeping."
I cross the portal.
I land straight on a weakened Void Hound. I kill it with a single, practiced motion, drinking its spark to jumpstart my recovery. The strength allows me to hunt the next prey—a Void Shark. The essence I harvest from the predator finally gives me the power to consume my backup: a Void Orca.
As my Vitality returns to its peak and my reason becomes as clear as a lake of pure water, I think. I analyze the "invincible" enemy. My portals cannot force him. My blade cannot hurt him enough. I am the Mist, he had said. His body is a facade—an avatar. The real being is the atmosphere itself. I cannot kill it, nor can I consume it before it consumes me.
I open a portal back to the Vault, but I don't cross it immediately. I stay in the darkness of the barren world, staring into the rift. Only what I perceive exists in my portals; my Will is the only path.
An idea flickers. I grin.
"The song..." I whisper. Then I'm laughing. "The song is the answer. How could I have been so blind?"
I cross back into the Vault. I need to study these women to confirm my theory. If I'm wrong, I'll have to give death to the women—Aria included—and find another route. But I'm almost certain.
"That didn't take you long," Lilith remarks as I approach the sleeping forms.
A thought crosses my mind: Could I open a portal to the past or the future someday? I push the question aside for later.
"Tell me, Lilith. This Elder—is this how they operate?"
"And nobody knows why," she replies, shivering.
"It told me he wants to spread his song over the surface so one day his father will wake and sing the original song."
"So there is an even more dangerous eldritch monster out there?" Lilith's voice trembles. I grin at her.
"I never thought I'd see a demon afraid."
"Those are gods, Vance," she explains, her eyes darting to the shadows. "The Lords of Law in the holy scriptures are said to have created the universe out of grace, but the truth is they created it to hide from the horrors in the Abyss. An Abyss not even the demon princes of Hell can reach. Beings of pure hunger and rage... they don't care about good or evil. Even we demons have our laws. But these things? They don't care about anything."
I chuckle, studying Aria with my Perception. Her body feels... familiar. In a way that makes my own blood hum.
"Everything is vast indeed," I reply. "And we are so tiny that we scream for a little attention."
"Huh?"
"The Elder. He told me he wants to go home. He wants to hear the song—the original song of his father—again."
"Then shouldn't he go to the depths and try to awaken his monster father?" she asks, bewildered.
"No. You're missing the point," I reply, looking at my hands, feeling the cold, familiar pull of the Void in my chest. "I know the song he's looking for."
"What?"
"Yes. It is the song from home," I say, more to myself than her. I feel a sudden, sharp pang of nostalgia for the emptiness. "Home."
"That—that means..." Lilith backs away, her eyes wide, seeing something in me she finally recognizes as truly alien.
"It is the Lullaby," I tell her, my voice echoing with a weight that shouldn't belong to a human. "The first thing I heard when I woke up as the being I am today."
"Then you are—"
"A cub of the Abyss."