CALAMITY : Legends Of The Chosen

Maze of Stillborn Screams – Zans' Awakening

The ground was cold stone.

Zans groaned as his body twitched awake, his cheek pressed against a floor that smelled like dust and decay. There was a dull pounding in the back of his skull, like someone was hitting the inside of his head with a rusty bell.

"Ugh... what happened..."

His vision blurred. No familiar faces. No Kuro's whisper. Just empty corridors, twisted paths, and silence so dense it felt like noise.

He pushed himself up with a weak elbow, blinking.

That's when he saw it.

A statue.

Its face was blank. Hands slightly raised. Body locked mid-step—stone that shouldn't have been moving at all. But there it stood, at the end of the hall, just… watching.

Zans blinked. Turned away instinctively, his muscles stiff and sore.

crack.

He heard it.

The floor behind him shifted.

Step... step... step—

"Wait, wha—?"

He turned back—

The statue was right behind him.

THWACK.

Zans stumbled back, blood spraying from his ribs. One hand raised in reflex. But it wasn't his.

A long, black tendril of shadow had surged out of his shoulder—Kuro's hand, intercepting the fatal blow mid-swing. The statue's stone blade had sliced through flesh and scraped bone, but didn't cut deep enough to kill.

Zans gasped, eyes wide.

"You forgot."

Kuro's voice echoed in his skull like wind in a crypt.

"You turned your back."

He clenched his teeth, pain flaring.

"Shit… I thought I had more time…"

The statue stood still again. Frozen. Inches from his face, its arm mid-swing, unmoving.

Zans stared into its blank, eyeless face. His ribs throbbed. A trail of blood ran down his shirt.

He'd just brushed death.

"No more mistakes." Kuro murmured, as another tendril slithered around Zans' wrist, helping him steady himself.

Zans & Kuro — The Ones Who Refuse to Die Quietly

Maze of Flickering Shadows | Mid-Arc

Zans collapsed to his knees. His arm had been shattered. One of the statues had grazed him with just the weight of its knuckles and it was enough to rupture tendons, split bone, and send his mind into a swirling blackout.

That's all it took.

Kuro opened her eyes.

A whisper of black spilled from his wounds like vapor. The air turned dry and cold.

"You hurt him."

Her voice was no longer kind, no longer timid.

"So now… we hurt you back."

A circle of crawling shadows erupted beneath her, forming Nightmare Rings — echoing screams of those the statues had killed. Kuro's silhouette rose out of Zans's crumpled body like a second skin, now fully in control.

Her hands dripped with black ichor. Her eyes glowed crimson.

"Let's siphon your lives like you stole theirs."

Nightmare Leech: VYTHRA Conversion

The statues lunged—

But it was already too late.

Kuro activated Nightmare Leech. Her body melted into a ripple of black light, phasing directly through them. As they froze, locked in time, hundreds of spidery shadow leeches slithered out of the walls, attaching themselves to every statue in the corridor.

Each leech began sucking.

The statues convulsed, twitching unnaturally, stone bodies cracking at the seams. Their stored magical energy — stolen from countless victims — was being drained. Slowly.

Kuro floated above them like a wraith, her hair lifting from her back like coiling shadow-blades.

The Fusion Begins

Zans's broken body stirred below.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead," Kuro whispered into his fading mind.

"I've gotten us a refill."

A burst of energy surged into him — raw, bitter, stolen VYTHRA. His wounds sealed rapidly. His eyes snapped open — pitch black.

"Round 2," Zans muttered.

"Let's give them a proper shadow dance."

They fused. Their souls overlapped. Kuro's instincts. Zans's rage. Together, they became a beast of vengeance.

Battle of Attrition: The Dance of Echoes and Blades

Zans dashed from statue to statue, launching void crescents with every slash.

The statues regenerated.

Kuro snapped their joints mid-motion with shadow counterspikes.

They still returned.

But it wasn't about winning.

"We hold them here…"

"Until the others… get out."

With every movement, they leapt between life and death, devouring stolen energy and burning it twice as fast.

"How long can we keep this up?" Zans asked inside their shared mind.

"Until we forget who we are," Kuro answered. "And even then… we bite down harder."

Maze of Stillborn Screams – Kuro Awakens

Zans stumbled, the air thick with pressure. The statue had moved—he hadn't even blinked, but it still struck.

Blood dripped from his ribs where stone had scraped skin.

"Kuro… ngh—I can still fight…"

No response.

Then—

He collapsed.

But he didn't hit the floor.

The shadows beneath him softened, pulsing like something alive.

They welcomed him.

Black tendrils slithered up and around his body, lifting him gently into the air. Zans' eyes fluttered closed as his body curled instinctively — as if going to sleep. A cradle of darkness formed beneath him.

A translucent shadow cocoon, rippling like midnight silk, sealed him away — protecting, preserving.

And then…

A hand emerged from the cocoon.

Slender.

Feminine.

Not his.

The shadow climbed further, molding over Zans' form — but now it rose independently, separating, standing upright.

Where his shadow should've followed his body, it now moved on its own.

And it was shapely.

Dark, smooth, and undefined — not sexualized, but unmistakably female in silhouette. Limbs sharpened. Long hair billowed from her back like smoke underwater.

Two piercing white eyes blinked open in the void of her face.

She looked down at her own hands. Then flexed her fingers once, twice.

"Took you long enough to fall."

"Now sleep, little Zans…"

Her voice was gentle — but laced with lethal confidence.

A nearby statue twitched.

Kuro turned her head, slowly. Her voice dropped.

"Go ahead."

"Try."

The statue lunged.

And in that instant, her shadow pulsed outward like a sonic wave.

The walls around her dimmed. The torches extinguished.

All light — gone.

In pitch-black, only the gleam of her eyes remained.

SNAP!

One tendril lashed out.

Another statue crumbled.

And Kuro exhaled.

She didn't need to hide anymore.

She wasn't Zans.

She was Kuro — the guardian of his soul, the monster in his shadow, and the entity born of love, trauma, and ancient power.

And now?

The maze was hers.

Kuro – Nightmare Unbound

Zans' body collapsed against the cold stone ground. Blood trickled from his brow, but the shadows did not fall with him.

They rose.

A pulse of darkness rippled outward as his shadow twitched unnaturally—then coiled, wrapping around his frame and forming a cocoon of living void. From within it, something else emerged.

Slender. Feminine. Humanoid... but unmistakably not human.

She had no face. Her body was composed of flickering umbral strands, naked yet indecipherable. Pure silhouette. Pure nightmare.

"Sleep, Zans. I'll deal with this filth."

As her bare feet touched the ground, the statues began to react—heads twitching toward her, weapons raising.

She wasn't interested in their theatrics.

"You're not the first things to crawl in the dark."

"But you will be the first I erase for touching my host."

A statue lunged.

Before it could strike, a black tendril whipped from Kuro's back, slicing through its arm at the elbow, stone shattering mid-swing.

The statue didn't scream. It couldn't.

But Kuro could.

"DIE."

Nightmare Leech (Active)

As more statues began their assault, dark roots of shadow speared from the floor, puncturing into their ankles and chests like black tree branches.

The room dimmed.

Their bodies began shaking violently, small cracks spreading across their surface.

Kuro's arms surged with raw VYTHRA, stolen force feeding back into her.

"This one tastes old. Rusted. Hollow."

She dashed forward, moving like a glitch in space—jerky, jarring, yet horrifyingly fast.

Shadow Cloak Combat – Pure Instinct

Kuro did not possess weapons. She was the weapon.

Each strike was brutal: a palm strike crushing a ribcage, an elbow decapitating a statue, a knee shattering a torso in one blow.

She didn't kill with style.

She killed with hatred.

"Don't look at me like you're equals."

"You're not even in my dreams. You're intruding in his."

A new wave approached.

One statue reached from the ceiling.

Another came from behind.

"Cowards."

Without turning, Kuro extended her arm, and a whip-like black appendage exploded from her palm, wrapping around the sneaky statue's throat mid-fall.

She yanked—

Slammed it into the ground.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until only dust remained.

Her wrath is not revenge. It's protection — instinctive, reactive, focused solely on Zans.

"As long as he breathes...

I'll keep killing."

More statues circled.

Kuro dropped into a crouch, shadows writhing around her like smoke.

"Come on then."

The statues lunged.

The void answered.

Scene: Reawakening the Storm

Location: Shadow Cocoon — Zans' Inner Mind

The sound of blood dripping echoed in the void. But there was no body. Just a floating heartbeat.

Zans' eyes fluttered open in the darkness.

A breath.

A flicker.

A pulse of returning awareness.

"Where...?"

He tried to sit up, but there was no floor — only ink, swirling around his thoughts like a tide holding him still.

Then came the scream.

"NO!"

A voice — sharp, cracked, familiar.

"No no no nononono—Zans—STAY

ASLEEP—!"

Kuro's silhouette burst into the void, clawing through the shadows, her eyes wide with horror.

"It's not safe yet! They're still out there—still hunting! The statues are getting smarter—please, just a little longer!"

But it was too late.

The surface of the cocoon rippled.

Zans' form flickered — dissolving from within her protection, piece by piece, as his body reasserted control.

"Kuro…?" he murmured softly, eyes half-open.

"Zans—please—I'm not done yet—if you wake up now, they'll—"

"They'll kill you again."

The shadows screamed as his soul broke through the membrane.

Kuro reached out one last time, grabbing his arm—

But her hand passed through like smoke.

"DAMMIT, ZANS!!"

Scene: Physical World — Maze of Stone Death

Zans gasped violently, his body jolting awake on the cold stone floor.

The air was thick — too thick.

"Ghh—what the hell…"

His fingers twitched. A sharp sting ran through his shoulder where one of the statues had grazed him before Kuro took over.

He sat up fast.

Five statues. Frozen. Inches away.

Their heads all cocked toward him. Staring.

Waiting.

Zans blinked once, twice — then locked his eyes forward, heart pounding like war drums.

"...Kuro?"

No answer.

"Kuro—?" he called again, voice lowering to a whisper.

Only his own shadow answered. Sluggish. Dimming.

And then he heard her…

A soft echo, buried deep inside his chest.

"...I told you it wasn't safe..."

"...You idiot..."

He gritted his teeth. The statues stepped forward.

No time for guilt.

Only time to survive.

Zans' Counterattack — Shadowborn Predator

The statues creaked and shifted in the cold silence of the maze. Their stone limbs cracked with dreadful precision, their soulless eyes never blinking. But Zans didn't blink either.

He moved.

With a sharp exhale, Zans lowered his stance and muttered, "You think I'm defenseless without her?"

His shadow twisted unnaturally beneath him — not just stretching, but coiling, writhing, anticipating. With a violent jerk of his arms, he coated both limbs in spiraling onyx tendrils, forming two jagged claws of pure darkness — twitching with lethal intent.

The nearest statue lunged.

But Zans was gone.

He vanished into a rippling, black smear of shadow — his body completely flattened into the surface. It was Nightmare Leech, activated by sheer will and instinct. In that form, he became a slithering void that couldn't be struck — not a target, but a curse sliding across the ground.

And worse?

He was draining them.

As his shadow passed beneath the statues' feet, VYTHRA began siphoning out of their forms — tendrils crawling into their joints, draining the ancient energy that powered their horrible immortality.

Then he rose behind one — silent, graceful.

SLASH.

A black arc swept through the air — his clawed shadow arm severed the statue clean through the waist. The stone cracked, shimmered with black mist — then exploded in splinters. It didn't regenerate immediately. The VYTHRA loss had delayed its recovery.

Another statue turned. Too slow.

Zans was already airborne — claws out, eyes narrowed. "You're just echoes carved in stone. Let's see how long you last without your soul."

He landed with a twist, slicing another apart and immediately diving back into the shadows.

Now, the hunter had become the virus.

Statues fell. Not all. But enough to remind them — Zans wasn't prey anymore.

— Zans' Emotional Collapse

The halls stretched long and winding, like veins through the world's decaying heart.

Zans dragged his feet.

Shadow claws retracted. His hands trembled slightly, coated in cold sweat. Kuro whispered softly in his mind, trying to reassure him.

"We're almost through this."

But something was off.

The air smelled like rusted copper. The silence was too perfect. Too cruel.

Then…

He turned the corner.

And the world stopped.

There, slumped against a cracked stone wall, her wrists limp, her ankles bruised, her body held up only by torn chains —

— was Enme Seiko.

"...N—No."

He blinked.

Then blinked again.

His breath hitched as his knees gave out.

"No… no, no, no, no—please…"

He crawled forward, hands shaking as he reached out. Her face was pale. So pale. Her throat—no sound. No breath. Her eyes half-open, like she'd been waiting for someone.

Waiting for him.

"You were supposed to… sing again…"

His voice shattered mid-sentence.

He cupped her cheek, desperate for warmth.

There was none.

He pulled her close.

"You were supposed to yell at me for being quiet. For hiding behind Kuro. You were supposed to laugh again. Scream at me. Anything!"

He buried his head into her chest.

"You… were supposed to live…"

His body trembled violently.

Grief gripped him like a storm. A lifetime of bottled sorrow bled out in seconds. He pounded his fists against the floor, his shadow writhing helplessly, trembling like a beast that couldn't cry.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there…"

"I should've gotten here faster…"

"I should've protected you…"

He looked down. The sealing talisman she had made for him… still clenched in his hand.

That broke him.

He clutched her body tighter.

Then his voice cracked again — but not in grief.

In defeat.

"…I don't want to be here anymore."

"I'm not enough."

"I'll never be enough."

He turned inward.

Kuro, still inside his soul, screamed his name—

"ZANS—! Wait! Don't do this! Don't you—!"

"I'm done."

"I'm done being Zans."

The shadows swirled violently, spiraling around him like a hurricane.

Zans stood, barely breathing, still holding Enme's corpse like a broken porcelain doll. His voice was empty.

"Take it."

"Take everything."

"Do what I couldn't."

A massive shadow cocoon bloomed from the ground — tendrils wrapping Zans' body like a coffin of darkness. His soul dimmed inside. Kuro's essence, confused and scared, began to fuse entirely.

But he whispered one last thing before being swallowed whole:

"Make them pay."

"Make them suffer."

"Leave. No. Survivors."