The air in Purgatory was thick with the scent of decay, the distant wails of lost souls echoing through the shadowy forest. Nate and Ragnar moved carefully, their eyes darting between the twisted, gnarled trees. The entire realm felt alive, as if watching their every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.Nate’s heart was still pounding from his near-death experience. He had felt it—the cold grip of death as the water serpent dragged him into oblivion. If not for Ragnar’s quick thinking, he would have never woken up. The thought sent chills down his spine. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. There was no time to dwell on fear.Ragnar, on the other hand, was entirely composed. He adjusted the satchel slung over his shoulder, checking the magical items he had collected over time. “Alright, we need answers,” he said, his voice firm. “And I think I know just how to get them.”Nate exhaled sharply. “And how exactly do we do that?”Ragnar smirked. “We find something in

The world felt wrong.The air in Purgatory had always been heavy, pressing down on Nate like an invisible weight, but now it was worse. Ever since their encounter with the Harbinger, something in the realm had shifted. The shadows around them clung to their forms like living things, whispering unseen words just at the edge of his hearing.Nate exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. His heartbeat had finally steadied, but the unsettling feeling in his gut remained.“That thing,” Nate muttered, still shaken. “It just… vanished.”Ragnar was already moving, stepping over the gnarled roots that jutted from the cracked earth. “No,” he corrected, his voice firm. “It retreated.”Nate followed him, glancing over his shoulder every few steps. “Why? If it was that strong, why didn’t it just finish us off?”Ragnar adjusted his grip on his sword. “Because we hurt it. It wasn’t expecting that.”The thought should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. If the Harbinger was afraid of them, then that mea

Pain.That was the first thing Nate felt when he hit the ground. His body ached everywhere—his ribs, his legs, his lungs still burning from the Warden’s grip. The force of the Rift’s pull had been violent, and now he lay sprawled across cold, uneven ground, struggling to breathe.Somewhere nearby, Ragnar groaned. “That… was not how I thought that would go.”Nate coughed, pushing himself up on trembling arms. “Yeah? What exactly did you think would happen?”Before Ragnar could answer, a deep, bone-chilling growl rumbled through the air around them.Nate’s stomach twisted.Slowly, he turned his head.The Warden was standing right there.Its massive form loomed above them, framed by the swirling, unstable energies of the Rift. Its burning white eyes locked onto them with pure hatred, and in its grip, its massive axe dripped with swirling black mist—the very essence of purgatory itself.They hadn’t escaped at all.Nate barely had time to react before the Warden moved.One moment it was st

Nate's breath hitched as the weight of the Warden’s words settled over him like a suffocating shroud.“You are already mine.”The words echoed in his mind, heavy with meaning, drenched in finality.Nate's gaze darted around the dimly lit chamber, his heart hammering against his ribs. The walls were jagged obsidian, glowing faintly with eerie red cracks that pulsed like veins. The air was thick with the scent of scorched metal and something else—something rotten.He struggled against the black chains binding him, but they were unmovable, seemingly fused with the very air itself. No matter how hard he pulled, they didn’t even budge.Beside him, Ragnar still wasn’t moving.Panic surged in Nate’s chest."Ragnar!" His voice was rough, edged with desperation. "Wake up, man! Come on!"For a moment, nothing.Then Ragnar let out a low groan, his head rolling slightly before he forced his eyes open. Blood trailed from a gash on his forehead, but his gaze was still sharp."What... the hell?" Rag

Nate's breath was ragged, his body screaming in agony, but the fire within him burned hotter than ever. The pain no longer mattered. The blood pooling beneath him no longer mattered. All that mattered was the fight.The monster loomed over him, its writhing tendrils shifting in anticipation of the final blow. It had beaten him, crushed him, broken him—but Nate wasn’t done. His vision blurred as he turned his head slightly, spotting Ragnar, still motionless against the cracked wall. For a moment, fear gripped him. Was he… dead?No. Ragnar was too stubborn to die like this.Nate clenched his fists, feeling the warmth of his fire pulsing through his veins, the heat rising, the sheer fury igniting something deep within him. His flames had always been powerful, but now… they felt different. They felt alive. As if they were no longer just an extension of his body, but a force all their own, something ancient and unyielding.The monster struck.A shadowy limb lunged at him, swift and mercile