The chair where Dante sat blurred at the edges. His voice carried through the distortion, low and steady. "Remember, resist. Or you’ll scatter."
Then the circle swallowed me whole.
The world collapsed into a prism.
Color was no longer color but shards that screamed as they bent around me, a kaleidoscope of tearing light.
The sensation hit instantly like hooks ramming into every nerve, pulling me apart. My arms stretched, then shrank, then multiplied into ghostly outlines before snapping back. My skin blistered in places, streaks of black tearing across it as if reality itself were scratching me raw.
My chest convulsed under the weight. Breath caught, and I felt my body shiver on the edge of breaking.
I forced my jaw shut, holding back a growl. "Now it’s up to you, body. Handle this."
The thought grounded me.
I recalled my new passive and its effects of adapting to any situation and stress on the body. And it reacted instantly.
The black streaks shuddered, then dulled as my skin shifted. A silvery-gray sheen crawled across my arms, chest, and face, subtle at first, then solid like metal being forged under pressure.
The channel screamed louder. Fissures of space cracked open around me, jagged black rifts snapping at my frame like jaws. One slammed into my shoulder. My body bent with it, bones twisting unnaturally for a second, then rebounding. Another fissure clawed at my leg, leaving a trail of blood before the silver sheen swallowed it, repelling the tear.
A laugh escaped my throat, short and dry. "So you are keeping up."
I shoved my hands into my pockets. Letting the chaos throw itself at me.
The channel hissed and groaned. Each tear that touched me was a sharp sting, sometimes drawing a thin line of blood, but never breaking deeper than skin. The silver-gray flesh rippled with each impact, adjusting, redirecting, learning.
For the first time since stepping into the circle, I allowed myself to breathe normally. The distortion wanted to scatter me into dust, but it couldn’t. I simply stood there, shoulders straight, while the universe tried to shred me.
A final rift split open, its pressure enough to make my ribs creak. My skin bent with it, curved like a bow under strain, then snapped back, throwing the fissure off.
Moments later, the kaleidoscope of colors collapsed inward.
My boots struck the ground. The ground was damp, uneven, slick with something that reeked faintly of rot.
The silence lasted only a heartbeat.
Then the world shook. A roar, deep and furious, ripped through the air from somewhere behind me. I didn’t need to see it to know, I was in the abomination zone. And already, something knew I had arrived.
I turned, my eyes narrowing, and finally saw the source of the roar.
It was a creature shaped like a humanoid, but its body was made entirely of gnarled tree matter.
Its dark brown bark looked rough and ancient, with cracks running across it like scars. Thick clawed hands twitched, as if itching to tear something apart. Its glowing eyes stared straight at me, its frame nearly matching my size, though the way it shifted on its feet made it seem more beast than man.
[Tilia Curcus – Level 283]
The name floated before my eyes, and the thing growled again.
I raised my hand, my voice steady and calm.
The moment the words left my mouth, I activated the Law of Polarity. The pull was immediate and brutal—the creature’s body lurched forward, dragged against its will.
It flew toward me, its bark-skin screeching as if protesting the force dragging it in. Its neck collided with my palm, the impact sharp and final.
From beneath me, shadows stirred. Dark tendrils burst out of my own shadow and coiled up around the creature, wrapping its legs, arms, and even its mouth in a web of constriction. It thrashed, but the more it struggled, the tighter the shadows clamped down, until its movements grew jerky and desperate.