In the Dark Regions, three races ruled the fractured land.
Vampires dominated the northern plains and the jagged mountains above them. Their territory was cold, quiet, and suffocating in a way that felt unnatural—like the air itself had been trained to obey them. In those lands, power wasn't just respected. It was absolute law.
Werewolves claimed the vast forests that stretched through the center of the region. Deep, endless woodlands where sunlight barely touched the ground. It was said those forests never stayed the same for long. Paths shifted. Sounds moved without source. Even experienced hunters often disappeared without explanation.
And beyond both territories lay something far more unstable—the uncharted grounds. A place no one governed and few survived long enough to describe. Witches were rumored to exist there, but even that word felt uncertain, like something repeated more out of fear than knowledge.
Together, the regions were called the Dark Regions.
Not because of darkness.
But because nothing within them stayed the same for long enough to be understood.
THE NORTHERN MOUNTAINS
The wind screamed across the mountain peaks like something alive.
Snow didn't fall gently here—it attacked sideways, sharp enough to sting exposed skin like needles. Every breath Gray took felt like it was cutting into his chest.
He kept moving anyway.
Zilders walked ahead, slightly hunched forward against the wind, his fur-lined coat barely doing anything against the cold. Marie stayed close behind Gray, her steps small but steady.
"So you're saying we have to cross all this before reaching the northern plains?" Gray asked, his voice low so it wouldn't get swallowed by the wind.
Zilders didn't turn back immediately.
"Yeah," he finally said. "The northern mountains separate the outside world from the vampire domain. If we're lucky, it takes a few weeks. If we're not…"
He glanced over his shoulder.
"…we don't finish the trip."
Gray didn't respond right away.
The wind filled the silence.
Then—
"Comforting," Gray muttered.
Zilders gave a short, dry laugh.
"There are monsters everywhere in the Dark Regions. Even the land itself feels like it's testing you."
Marie adjusted her grip on her sleeves, saying nothing, but her eyes stayed alert.
Zilders suddenly stopped walking.
The snow beneath him shifted slightly.
His posture changed.
Something in the air tightened.
He reached into his coat slowly.
"Gray."
His tone had changed completely.
Serious now.
Focused.
"I know you two haven't had your abilities for long. That means your instincts are unstable."
He pulled out a short blade and turned fully toward Gray.
"This isn't about strength. It's about survival discipline."
He stepped forward and placed the sword into Gray's hand again—firmer this time.
"When I say fight—you don't hesitate."
A pause.
"And when I say run… you don't look back."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Because hesitation gets people buried in the snow here."
Gray looked down at the blade.
For a moment, something flickered in his expression.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Memory.
Blood on his hands.
The bandits.
The way it felt too easy.
Then he looked at Marie.
And tightened his grip.
"…Got it."
A faint smirk returned to his face.
"No misunderstandings."
Zilders studied him for a second.
Then nodded.
"Good."
They bumped fists briefly.
And kept moving.
THE MOUNTAIN'S SILENCE (TWO WEEKS LATER)
Time lost meaning in the mountains.
Days were measured by exhaustion, not light.
Food became rationed.
Firewood became precious.
And silence became constant.
Inside a shallow cave carved into stone, the three rested in near darkness, listening to the wind scrape against the outside world like claws.
Gray leaned against the wall, eyes half-lowered but still alert.
Zilders checked their supplies again.
Marie sat quietly, holding a small leather water sack filled with thick dark blood.
"Hey Gray," Zilders said suddenly. "Any meat left?"
Gray didn't even look up.
"Finished it yesterday."
Zilders sighed deeply.
"So we're officially out of food then."
Marie shook the blood sack slightly.
"And this won't last more than a few days."
Gray clicked his tongue.
"So we starve or get eaten. Great options."
Zilders stood and stretched his shoulders.
"I'll take first watch. You two try to rest—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His body froze.
"…No."
The word came out barely audible.
A second later—
he coughed violently.
Blood splattered onto the stone floor.
Marie stood immediately.
"Zilders!"
But he raised a hand.
"No… something's here."
He sniffed the air again.
His expression collapsed into something sharper.
Horrified.
"Move. NOW!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed both of them and sprinted out of the cave.
Snow exploded beneath his steps.
Gray barely had time to react.
"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!"
Zilders didn't answer.
"Not now!"
Marie turned her head slightly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Gray… don't look back slowly."
"…Why?"
Then—
Gray felt it.
The air changed.
The smell hit him like a physical force.
Rot.
Decay.
Something wrong with the world itself.
He turned his head.
His vision sharpened unnaturally.
Far behind them—
black fog poured out of the cave like smoke that had learned how to move.
But it wasn't just fog.
Something was inside it.
A shape.
Massive.
Wrong.
Four arms.
Three heads.
Each face had a single pale white eye staring forward without blinking.
Black blood dripped from its mouths as it moved.
Gray's eyes widened.
"…What the hell is that?"
Zilders didn't slow.
"That's a corrupted being."
His voice dropped.
"A remnant of the Holy War."
Gray's expression tightened.
"Remnant…?"
Zilders nodded once.
"Things that survived when they shouldn't have. Not alive in the normal sense. Not dead either. Just… leftover destruction given form."
The creature roared behind them.
The sound didn't echo.
It pressed.
Like pressure crushing the air itself.
Then it began to run.
THE CANYON TRAP
Zilders changed direction sharply, pushing into a narrow canyon.
Rock walls rose high on both sides.
For a moment—
there was hope.
Then he stopped.
"…We're screwed."
Ahead of them—
figures stood across the canyon walls.
Dozens.
Humanoid shapes.
White eyes.
No movement.
Just watching.
Waiting.
Gray's jaw tightened.
"We're surrounded."
Zilders clenched his fists.
"…Trapped between puppets and a corrupted being."
The ground trembled again.
Closer now.
Heavier.
The corrupted creature was entering the canyon.
Every step cracked stone.
Gray exhaled slowly.
"…I've got an idea."
Zilders looked at him sharply.
"Please tell me it doesn't involve dying."
Gray didn't answer directly.
"We kill it."
Silence.
Zilders stared.
"…You're insane."
"That thing is a walking war crime made flesh."
Gray's eyes glowed faint red.
"Then we don't waste energy on everything else."
Zilders ran a hand through his hair.
"You didn't hear me earlier?! That thing exists to erase everything in its path!"
Gray tilted his head slightly.
"Then we stop it here."
A pause.
Zilders looked at the cliff edge behind them.
"…Or we jump."
Gray added casually.
"Pick."
Zilders groaned.
"You're both trying to kill me in different ways…"
The corrupted being entered the canyon fully.
The ground shook violently.
Zilders exhaled.
"…Fine."
He lowered Marie carefully.
"We do it your way. But we need coordination."
Gray nodded.
Marie stepped forward slightly.
"Trust him."
Zilders looked at her.
"…You're both terrifying."
Then he transformed.
Bones shifted.
Fur erupted.
A full werewolf form took over.
He lifted Marie onto his back.
"Hold on."
And charged into the horde.
ABOVE THE CANYON
A figure stood on the cliff edge above.
Tall.
Hidden beneath dark robes.
Watching everything.
A faint smile formed.
"Two hybrids…"
His gaze shifted to Gray.
"…and a werewolf with alpha potential."
He tilted his head.
"What an interesting combination of death wishes."
The air around him shimmered.
And then—
he vanished into crimson smoke.