way of will

Prison.

That was the word Will now used to name this city. No, not because he forgoten what this place was actually called but in his mind, "prison" was the only word that fit. Not just metaphorically, but literally. The word had sunk into the walls, into the air, into every breath he took. A name born from despair, chosen instinctively, as if his soul understood something his mind had not yet processed.

He had grown somewhat accustomed to the strangeness of this place--only because he knew this was part of the Akashic Records' Trial. And even then, the more familiar he became with the city, the stranger it felt. The deeper he ventured, the more it warped around him. As though the city was learning about him too.

Will's objective was painfully clear. He had to escape. The sooner, the better.

In a more "normal" trial--which should happened to him in the first place --a Challenger might be expected to speak with the city's inhabitants, collect information, perhaps convince a guard to grant access through the gate, and eventually walk out to complete their first trial. That was the logical route. The assumed route.

But logic had no place here.

Will had received no such help. Not a single soul had offered him guidance, nor had anyone acknowledged his presence with anything more than a lifeless stare. Even after spending an entire day trying to locate the city's gate, he found nothing--no exit, no signs, not even a draft of wind that might suggest a passage beyond the towering stone wall that encircled this cursed place.

He had wandered along the entirety of the wall's circumference, tracing its cold, lifeless surface. No crack. No breach. No gate. The city felt like a sealed tomb.

And now his body--this frail, human shell he had been given --was beginning to give out. Hunger gnawed at him like rats beneath the skin. His throat burned with thirst. His legs dragged behind him like weights bound by chains. And still, no way out.

But Will hadn't given up.

Not yet, he is not one to given up easily.

He had found a section of the wall that was different--just barely. A small structure attached to the stone. A remnant of something old, maybe, where wooden planks and metallic footholds protruded out like a half-forgotten escape route. With enough effort, he could climb it. He had even fashioned a rope--if it could be called that--by tying together scraps of cloth he had scavenged from the deserted alleyways.

Oddly enough, none of the city's residents--if you could even call them that--had reacted to anything he did. These zombie-like citizens simply stared, unblinking, as if his movements were invisible to them. They showed no curiosity. No fear. No interest.

Now, as night began to fall--he hadn't even noticed when the sun disappeared--Will approached that section of the wall. The last warmth of daylight had long since faded. The city was drowning in a thick, creeping fog that rolled in like a shroud, blanketing everything in pale gray silence.

As he walked, following the path he had memorized earlier, a strange sensation crawled across his skin. A cold prickling, like a warning. During the day, he had occasionally seen figures moving through the mist--slow, silent--but at night, the city felt… empty. Hollow. Like it had gone to sleep and left only its nightmares behind.

Shff… shff…

He paused. Something scraped faintly to his right. A narrow alley.

He wasn't curious. He didn't care. But against his better judgment, Will glanced into the alley anyway.

And froze.

A creature--no, a woman, or something that had once been a woman--was crawling on all fours. Not walking, crawling, with both hands and feet digging into the grime-covered stone. Her mouth gripped the limp body of a man by the shoulder, dragging him across the alley like a piece of discarded meat. Her limbs moved with unnatural coordination, and she made no sound beyond the scrape of flesh against stone.

For a second, Will simply stared. Confused. Then horrified.

His eyes snapped away, but it was already too late.

The woman--no, the voidling--dropped the corpse and twisted her head in a full, inhuman rotation to stare at him. Her eyes burned crimson in the mist. Her mouth stretched open, too wide, and a sharp, guttural shriek shattered the silence.

She charged.

Will didn't look back. He ran.

The creature bounded after him on all fours, faster than any human could move, saliva trailing from her snarling maw. Will's heart pounded against his ribs. His breath came in sharp, painful gasps. Just before she could grab him, he reached the wall.

There--footholds!

He scrambled up them, his fingers trembling, his body burning with fear-fueled adrenaline. Below him, the voidling slammed into the stone, momentarily stunned, then began to climb after him. She contorted her body grotesquely, bending in ways no living thing should, and clawed her way upward.

Will's eyes widened in terror. He climbed faster, slipping once--almost falling--but catching himself just in time. Every inch gained felt like a miracle. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

Finally--finally--he reached the top. Gasping. Shaking. But before he could take a breath, the creature reached the ledge too.

With a desperate scream, Will lashed out with his foot, kicking her squarely in the face. She reeled back, hissing. He kicked again--harder. The second strike knocked her off-balance, and with a howl, she plummeted from the wall's height.

Her body landed with a sickening crunch.

But it didn't die. Not fully.

Will could still see one of her hands twitching weakly on the ground below.

Breathing hard, Will turned away from the edge and looked down the other side of the wall. Unlike the city, there were no lights. No streets. No fires. Nothing. Just a vast, black void stretching into infinity. He couldn't see what waited at the bottom--but it didn't matter.

Once he stepped off that wall, once his foot touched the ground beyond, it would mean he had escaped.

He would complete his objective. Pass his first trial.

Of course, the real world beyond this trial was no safer. The voidlings there--the ones surrounding him from all sides in the Black Castle--would be far more dangerous. But with his Nascent Realm awakening, and access to Spirit Arts, he'd at least have a chance to survive.

He took out the rope he had made and secured it to a jutting section of the wall. As he prepared to descend, he heard something.

Footsteps.

Rapid. Approaching.

He turned back instinctively. The voidling was still lying motionless below, though her form seemed disturbingly intact.

But the footsteps grew louder.

From his left, a flicker of light danced in the air--floating like a firefly.

No… it was a torch, and it wasn't floating.

A young man was holding it.

He walked toward Will with an unnerving smile. His expression was calm, almost friendly, and completely out of place. His clothes were unlike anything Will had seen on the city's citizens--clean, nobal, stylish. Around his neck hung a massive, glowing pendant that swung slightly with each step.

"Thinking of going over the wall, my friend?" the man said cheerfully as he approached. "If that's the case, I'm afraid I have to suggest you to think twice."

Will's skin prickled. This wasn't right.

He had wandered this city since morning. Not once had he seen anyone speak. Let alone smile. Let alone laugh. Everything about this young man was wrong. Too normal. Too cheerful. Too alive.

Will said nothing, his eyes narrowing in silent focus. But the young man seemed to understand him anyway.

"Oh, come on. You've never met a polite person before?" he laughed. "Don't worry. There are plenty more like me inside the Yarnam Castle."

He stepped even closer--but carefully stayed just out of striking distance.

Still smiling, the young man pulled another unlit torch from behind his back, ignited it, and casually tossed it over the wall.

"Go on," he said. "Take a look."

Will followed the path of the torchlight as it descended.

Down…

Down…

It didn't hit the ground.

Not immediately.

When it finally did, the light illuminated what lay below.

Hundreds. Thousands.

Voidlings.

All staring up.

All waiting.

Their red eyes glowing like embers in a pit of ash.

Will's blood turned to ice.

That was what waited beyond the wall.

Not escape. Not freedom.

Just death.

The young man chuckled darkly be

hind him.

"My friend," he said, his tone now ominous, eyes glittering.

"There's only one way out of this place.

And sadly…this not it.