The Ruinbound

The night air was thick with tension.

Elias gritted his teeth, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he tightened his grip on the sword.

Vanishing.

The Calamity shifted, its form flickering in and out of place. It was like a shadow trying to hold itself together, glitching against the broken ruins of the world. Its hollow eyes, voids of absolute darkness, locked onto Elias like a predator that had already chosen its prey.

Then, it moved.

A blur of black and red rushed toward him with impossible speed.

Elias had no time to think.

He raised his sword in front of him—

BOOM.

The impact was like being hit by a collapsing building.

The sheer force ripped through his arms, sending a violent shockwave up to his shoulders. His boots scraped against the cracked pavement as he was sent sliding backward, his muscles screaming under the pressure.

The sword held.

Barely.

But his arms were numb from the force of the blow.

He gasped for breath, but Vanishing didn't give him time.

The creature flickered again—this time, appearing to Elias' left.

A claw swiped for his ribs.

He twisted—just barely avoiding it.

A near miss. Too close.

The masked man, standing a short distance away, chuckled softly.

"Vanishing. No erasing—just brutal attacks."

His voice was calm, amused.

"I want to see this play out."

Elias ignored him.

He had no time for fear.

He charged forward, sword raised.

Elias swung the sword with all his strength, aiming for Vanishing's side.

The beast twisted at the last second, dodging effortlessly.

Elias barely saw it move—just a shift in the air, a flicker of motion.

Then, another strike from the left.

This time, he couldn't dodge in time.

He threw himself sideways, but the claw still grazed his shoulder.

A burst of agony shot through him as the impact sent him stumbling. Blood spilled from the wound, dark against the ruined stone beneath them.

Vanishing was playing with him.

Elias exhaled sharply. He had to land a hit.

He feinted left—then suddenly shifted direction, bringing the sword downward.

The blade bit into the creature's side.

A piercing scream tore through the air.

Vanishing reeled back, its body convulsing.

Elias' eyes widened.

The sword was special. It was burning the Calamity.

Black smoke curled from the wound, dark tendrils peeling away from the creature's shifting body.

A spark of hope ignited in Elias' chest.

It could be hurt.

He raised the sword again, determined to strike—

"Ruin Blade."

The masked man's voice changed.

Not amused.

Not curious.

Commanding.

Vanishing's hand slashed through the air.

A sudden, invisible force hit Elias.

BOOM.

He was launched backward, his body colliding with a broken wall. The stone cracked beneath the impact, dust and rubble exploding into the air.

Pain ripped through his spine, the breath knocked from his lungs.

The masked man's laughter echoed through the ruins.

"Ruin Blade again."

Vanishing raised its arm.

The air rippled.

Elias barely had time to raise his sword before—

BOOM.

Another wave of force slammed into him, hurling him further across the battlefield.

The world spun violently, his vision flickering between the ruins and the sky.

Then—agony.

Something sharp pierced his leg.

Elias screamed.

His body jerked violently as he looked down—

A twisted iron rod had impaled his left leg.

Blood poured freely from the wound, soaking the shattered pavement beneath him. His muscles spasmed, his entire body shaking from the pain.

He couldn't move.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps.

The masked man hovered above him, watching with calm amusement.

"Ruin Blade again."

Another invisible force slammed into Elias.

He was sent flying, his broken body crashing through the ruins.

He skidded against the pavement, his wounds leaving a dark trail of blood behind him.

He tried to push himself up—

His arms wouldn't move.

His vision blurred.

Elias' fingers weakly clawed at the ground.

He coughed, blood spilling from his lips.

His body was failing him.

His leg was useless. His wounds were too deep.

He was going to die here.

Alone.

"Help me..."

The words barely escaped his lips.

A whisper. A broken plea.

The masked man descended slowly, boots clicking against the pavement.

He stared down at Elias, golden eyes glowing faintly through the cracks in his mask.

"I don't understand."

Elias' breath shuddered.

The masked man took a slow step closer, his voice dripping with contempt.

"What the fuck did she see in you?"

Elias' mind spun.

Who?

"A useless being like you."

The masked man reached down.

Fingers wrapped around Elias' throat.

A crushing grip.

He was lifted into the air.

His legs twitched weakly, trying to kick free.

His hands grasped at the man's wrist, useless.

His lungs burned.

"You're wasting my time."

Then—

CRACK.

Elias' neck snapped.

Darkness.

A second passed.

Then another.

Then—

Pain.

Elias' lungs expanded violently, sucking in a ragged, gasping breath.

His eyes snapped open.

He was on his knees.

His leg—unbroken. His wounds—gone.

But the pain of dying still lingered.

He looked up.

The masked man was standing in front of him.

Unmoved. Unimpressed.

Elias' breath shuddered.

The masked man tilted his head slightly.

And then—

He smiled.

Elias was still kneeling on the ground, his breath ragged, his body trembling from the ghost of his last death. His neck still felt broken, his throat still felt crushed, even though he was whole again.

The masked man just stared at him.

Then—he chuckled.

"Huh."

He tilted his head slightly, as if examining a strange insect beneath his boot.

"You can't even die, Elias."

Elias' stomach twisted at the words.

Not because they weren't true.

But because of how casually they were spoken.

"Well, while you're alive," the masked man continued, his tone mockingly thoughtful, "let me ask you something."

He crouched slightly, golden eyes gleaming through the cracked porcelain of his mask.

"Do you remember the Seven Heroes?"

Elias' blood ran cold.

Of course, he remembered them.

He had written about them, dedicated his life to studying them.

But something about the way the masked man said it—**the way his voice curled around the words like a blade waiting to be twisted—**made his skin crawl.

The man grinned beneath his mask.

"Of course you remember them. You wasted your entire lowly life writing about those fuckers."

The air shifted.

A deep, writhing darkness unfolded behind him, twisting into shapes.

Then—screams.

Elias' breath hitched.

The shadows took form.

And before his eyes—he saw them.

The Seven Heroes.

Burning. Screaming. Dying.

A woman, her hands clawing at the air as she was dragged into an abyss.

A man crushed beneath an invisible force, his bones shattering.

Another, begging, his voice breaking before it was silenced forever.

Elias couldn't move.

It was too real.

Too vivid.

The masked man's voice cut through the horror.

"I killed them in mere seconds."

His laughter shattered the silence.

Jagged. Wrong. Endless.

Elias gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to breathe. This wasn't real. This was just—

"But one hero is alive, you see, Elias."

The laughter stopped.

And suddenly—everything was quiet.

The masked man's tone shifted, amusement draining from his voice.

"Dain Ferris."

Elias' eyes snapped up.

That name.

A name he had written a thousand times.

"The one with Void Healing Blood."

The shadows behind the masked man vanished.

He was no longer laughing.

He was no longer mocking.

For the first time since Elias had met him—the masked man looked serious.

"You see, Elias, I did kill him."

His golden eyes darkened slightly.

"But he healed. Over and over again."

He tilted his head, almost thoughtful.

"Not like you. Not resurrection. But healing.*

A long pause.

Then—he smiled again.

"I hate people like him, you know?"

His voice was softer now. Almost quiet.

But it carried something deeper.

Something that made Elias' skin crawl.

The masked man took a step forward.

"Tell me, scholar," he whispered, "you wrote so much about him."

Elias froze.

"Tell me his weakness."

Elias' hands clenched into fists.

"No."

The masked man's expression didn't change.

He simply stood there for a moment.

Then—he sighed.

"Wrong answer."

A blur of movement.

A razor-sharp claw flashed through the air.

Elias barely had time to process it before his world spun violently.

His vision tilted sideways.

And suddenly—he was looking at himself.

His own body.

Standing there.

Headless.

His severed head hit the ground, rolling once before coming to a stop, his own eyes staring blankly at the sky.

Darkness.

A violent gasp tore from Elias' lungs as he snapped back to life.

His hands dug into the dirt, his chest heaving.

The masked man was still standing in front of him.

Unmoved.

Unimpressed.

Elias' breath was shaking.

His hands trembled.

The masked man sighed.

"Now, let's try this again."

His voice was bored.

"Tell me his weakness."

Elias' entire body screamed at him to stay silent.

But the fear.

The cold, crushing fear wrapped around his spine like a vice.

He licked his lips, his voice hoarse, broken.

"His blood."

The masked man tilted his head.

"Go on."

Elias swallowed.

"His blood is cursed."

The masked man's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Cursed?"

Elias forced himself to speak. To force the words out.

"If he heals too much… he will turn into a Calamity."

Silence.

A long, stretched-out pause.

Then—

The masked man's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile.

"That's more like it."

Elias felt sick.

The masked man straightened, turning away.

"Well, thank you, Forsaken Scholar."

Elias watched in horror as the masked man casually raised a hand.

The remaining Calamities twisted violently—

And then, in a blink—they were gone.

Erased.

Not even a scream.

Not even a trace.

As if they had never existed.

The masked man floated upward, his coat billowing around him.

He hovered there for a moment, looking down at Elias.

"Good luck on your little adventure, Elias."

Then—

Time began to move again.

Elias collapsed, gasping, as the world returned to motion.

Lyra. Callum. The Nullborns. The bunker.

All as they had been before the glitch.

As if none of it had ever happened.

As if he had never died.