Summer, Year Two7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzeWdKkRqNJ
Hannah – POV
Dr. Harvey told me to stay on the farm. Avoid people. Avoid crowds. "Focus on healing," he'd said. But healing's not something I've felt in a long time. If anything, isolation hasn't healed me—it's just dulled the noise.
It's been weeks. Weeks of sweat-soaked nightmares, of digging up weeds and watering crops on autopilot. The barn smells like hay and dust, the animals are silent witnesses to my unraveling. Every day, I throw crops into the shipping bin. Milk. Wool. Slime eggs. I haven't left this land once. Not until tonight.
The quiet out here isn't peaceful—it's haunting. But it's better than the shrieking inside my skull. The worst part about being at war with your own mind is that there's no battlefield to run from. It's in you. It is you. And it followed me back from that cavern like a shadow I can't shake.
And Sebastian... I think about him more than I should. The day he walked away, something in his face shifted. I think it was hope, dying quietly. I wanted to call out to him, to explain everything—but I didn't. I watched him leave and stayed silent. Cowardice comes easy when you're broken.
I stopped recognizing myself weeks ago. My reflection is some haunted, hollow thing. Eyes bruised with exhaustion, skin pale and cracked. My lips are chapped. My body aches in places I didn't know could hurt. Most days, I don't remember eating. I rarely remember sleeping. And when I do, it's never restful. It's survival.
But tonight... tonight I break Harvey's rules.
Tonight I go back to the beginning—the real beginning. The reason I descended into that place to begin with. I have the void mayo. I need the talisman. I need to finish what started this, for Abigail's sake if not my own.
I wait until the valley is asleep. The moon is high, heavy with heat. I slip into a long black coat and pull the hood over my head. My hair tucks in easily, too thin now to fight me.
The croaking of frogs surrounds me as I cross the overgrown path. The humidity clings to my skin like guilt. I can feel sweat running down my spine. The forest looms around me, dark and watchful. I move through it like a ghost.
The Wizard's Tower rises ahead of me, eerie in the moonlight. Moss-covered stone and a flickering window up top like a lighthouse for the damned. Last time I was here, I could barely stand. He saved my life. Now he might help me end it—or whatever's left of it.
I raise a fist and knock three times.
The door creaks open on its own.
Of course it does.
"Hannah," the Wizard says, genuinely surprised. "I thought you were in some outpatient dirt therapy program or something."
I lower my hood. His purple hair glints green in the candlelight. His gaze scans my face like he's reading an ancient text.
"You look like death," he finally says, then bursts out laughing.
"Charming," I mutter. "I have the void mayo. I need to know how to get the talisman."
His smile fades. "Are you sure you're ready?"
"Yes."
He sighs and circles his cauldron, boots clicking against stone. "Do you have the sword?"
"I never put it down."
"Right. Of course not." He hesitates. "Okay. Here's the plan: I'll teleport you to Marlon. He'll escort you to Krobus. Krobus will open a hidden tunnel through the sewer that leads to the witch's swamp. Give the mayo to the goblin guarding the cave. He'll let you pass. You'll find the dark talisman inside."
I nod. My stomach knots.
"Krobus?" I ask.
"He's a shadow brute, but friendly. Sensitive, even. I think you two will get along."
I raise an eyebrow. "Brute and sensitive don't usually go together."
"Neither do human and survivor, but here you are," he shrugs. "Let's go."
He raises his hands. I brace myself. A flash of white light explodes in my vision. I smell something foul. The humidity returns.
When my sight clears, I'm standing outside the sewer. It reeks of rot and rusted metal. Beside me, Marlon greets me with a tired smile.
"Hannah," he says. "It's good to see you."
I nod silently.
"Your bravery... it's something we talk about often at the Guild. You've made us proud."
His words sting. Proud? I don't even know who I am anymore.
"I know it doesn't help much," he adds. "But you're honored."
I swallow hard. It doesn't help. But I don't say that.
Marlon glances toward the sewer grate. "Krobus is down there."
I grimace. "Seriously?"
He's already opening the hatch. "Unfortunately, yes."
He starts down the ladder. I follow without question.
At this point, whatever waits for me in the sewer can't be worse than what's waiting for me at home.
And what's waiting for me at home... is nothing.
The sewer smelled exactly how you'd expect a sewer to smell—like rot and mildew and things that had no business still existing. I followed Marlon down a narrow, dripping corridor slick with moisture and grime. I had always imagined sewers looking like something out of a comic book—maybe a Ninja Turtles lair, with pizza boxes, rats the size of dogs, and ancient graffiti. But this... this felt different.
It was eerie. Still. Almost like the bones of an abandoned bathhouse, with crumbling stonework and traces of tile beneath the sludge. The air was thick and wet, clinging to my skin like a second layer of sweat. The light was dim, but the green glow of the sewer's bioluminescent moss gave just enough visibility to keep moving.
Then I saw him.
At the far end of the corridor stood a figure. Tall. Motionless. A silhouette darker than shadow itself.
My hand instinctively fell to the hilt of my sword.
"Easy," Marlon said quietly, his tone firm. His voice echoed just slightly against the damp walls.
I took a slow breath and forced my shoulders to relax, but my pulse refused to slow. Every part of me screamed to stay alert. The figure turned, just slightly, and the greenish glow caught on his features.
Krobus.
He was entirely black—his eyes, his mouth, his body. But it wasn't an absence of color, it was something else. A depth. Like he absorbed light. Somehow, he was darker than dark. The glow of the sewer reflected just enough to make out the edge of a face, faint and strange.
"Krobus," Marlon said, stepping forward with respectful calm. "This is Hannah. The one who survived Skull Cavern. The one chosen by the galaxy sword."
Krobus tilted his head slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was barely more than a breath.
"I know who she is," he said. "I could sense the sword's presence the moment you entered."
A chill slid down my spine. I stayed silent, jaw tight, fingers still brushing the hilt of my blade. I didn't care how many times Marlon or the Wizard claimed this shadow brute was a friend. Trust didn't come easy anymore—especially not to something that made my instincts scream.
"We need passage into the witch's lair," Marlon said.
Krobus let out a quiet sigh, a strange sound from a creature like him.
"That depends," he said at last. "Has she harmed any of my kin in the mines?"
My teeth clenched before I could stop them. "Did any of your kin try to kill me in the mines?" I shot back.
Marlon raised a hand between us in silent warning.
"Hannah's actions have been under strict directive," he said calmly. "She's had no knowledge of your people, no vendetta. Only survival."
Krobus was quiet for a long beat. His presence was unnerving, like a shadow that could move if it wanted to. But then he spoke.
"She's fiery," he said softly. "Very well."
With a motion almost too fast to follow, he tossed a rusted key to Marlon.
"Good luck," Krobus murmured.
Marlon caught the key and dipped his head in thanks.
As we moved past him, I kept my eyes on Krobus the entire way, my stomach churning, unsure whether I was relieved or more anxious now that the next door had opened.
I don't know what's waiting for me in this lair.
But I know it's not going to be a quiet life of harvesting blueberries and feeding chickens.
And maybe that's okay.
Because this time, I'm not pretending to be okay. This time, I know exactly how broken I am.
And for once, I'm not afraid of it.
7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxwA4rKqe3N
