This parallel dimensional world exists between the real world and the eternal abyss, which is a mysterious fantasy realm where people are reincarnated with new identities, new bodies, and new, enigmatic powers. Even memories from their past lives are erased by the Hollows. These entities are dangerous and steeped in superstition; they manage the afterlife and control every human and living being according to their whims. Their existence remains a mystery, as they may live among us in the real world, disguised as ordinary humans to observe everything.
The Hollows are commanded by their leader, the Hollow King, Feythar. He is a formidable figure, adorned with fused bones that form a crown, and his being is suffused with dark red blood. His robes are woven from the shadows of the dead, and his face and body are enveloped in a black mist, creating an eerie atmosphere around him.
The eternal abyss is indeed a peculiar place. It wasn't created by the Hollows, nor by any reincarnated beings or demons. No one knows how it came into existence, making it one of the great wonders or perhaps hiding a dark secret yet to be uncovered.
Dylan's lungs burned like they'd been stuffed with hot coals. His breath came in ragged, panicked gasps as he sprinted through the narrow, winding alleys of this hellish place. The streets were slick with an oily sheen, rainwater mixing with something darker—something that clung to his shoes like tar. Above him, the moon hung swollen and crimson, a bleeding eye in the sky, casting the world in a dim, eerie glow.
*Where the hell am I?*
The question looped in his mind like a broken record. This wasn't just some back alley in his old life—this was something worse. The buildings around him leaned in like rotten teeth, their windows shattered, their doors hanging open like slack jaws. The air smelled of rust and spoiled meat. And behind him—
*Thud. Thud. THUD.*
The demon was closing in.
Dylan dared a glance back and immediately regretted it. The thing was massive—a hulking monstrosity of raw, flayed muscle, its crimson skin glistening with sweat and rainwater. Its face was a nightmare—a lipless maw stretched too wide, filled with jagged, yellowed teeth. And in its clawed hands, it dragged a hammer—a brutal, human-sized slab of black iron, its edges serrated like a butcher's blade.
The demon wasn't running. It was *stalking*.
Dylan's heart hammered against his ribs. He pushed harder, his legs screaming in protest, his vision tunneling. The alley spat him out onto a jagged cliffside, the ground crumbling away into an abyss below. He skidded to a stop, gravel skittering over the edge into the void.
*No. No no no—*
Below him, a sea of black fog churned, swallowing everything that fell into it. Shapes moved in the mist—things with too many limbs, too many eyes, writhing in the depths.
A wet, guttural chuckle rumbled behind him.
Dylan turned.
The demon stood there, its chest heaving, its hammer resting lazily over one shoulder. It tilted its head, studying him like a predator deciding how to play with its food.
For a second, Dylan just stared. Then—
He *laughed*.
A sharp, hysterical sound ripped from his throat.
"Everyone wants me dead!" he wheezed, wiping blood from his split lip. "What is this, some kinda fucked-up dream?" He spread his arms, grinning like a madman. "You know what? I was *never* meant to come back. Maybe I *did* die. Maybe this is hell. Or maybe—"
The demon moved.
One second it was standing there. The next—
*WHOOSH.*
The hammer came down like a meteor.
Dylan barely dodged, rolling to the side as the weapon cratered the ground where he'd been standing. Instinct took over. He lunged, driving his fist into the demon's gut—
*CRACK.*
Pain exploded through his hand. His fingers bent at wrong angles. He screamed, staggering back.
*"What the fuck?!"*
This wasn't a dream. The pain was *real*.
The demon grinned, raising its hammer again.
Dylan's mind raced. He was outmatched. Outweighed. But he wasn't out*smarted*.
As the demon charged, Dylan feinted left—then *dropped*, sliding between its tree-trunk legs. The cliff's edge loomed. He caught himself at the last second, his shoes skidding on loose rock.
The demon turned, snarling.
Dylan's lips curled into a savage grin.
"Come on, you ugly bastard."
The demon obliged.
It lunged, hammer raised—
And Dylan *moved*.
In one fluid motion, he backflipped, his legs scissoring around the demon's thick neck. Momentum carried them both over the edge.
For a heartbeat, they hung in the air.
Then—
*DOWN.*
The demon's roar of fury turned to shock as Dylan *twisted*, using all his strength to *hurl* the monster beneath him. The demon plummeted, its massive form swallowed by the fog in seconds.
Silence.
Dylan dangled from the cliff's edge, his fingers slipping on wet stone. He laughed, wild and breathless.
"You *pathetic*—"
*CRACK.*
The cliff face *splintered* beneath him.
Dylan's stomach dropped.
*Oh shit.*
The rock gave way.
And then—
He was *falling*.
The black fog rushed up to meet him. The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him whole was the demon's furious, fading snarl—
And then, nothing.
**Silence.**
**Then—**
A voice, whispering from the abyss:
*"Welcome, Dylan."*
*(To be continued...?)*