The Fifth Hollow was alive with howls.
Ray's paws pounded against blackened stone as shrieks echoed through the dead chasm walls behind him. Demons. Four of them. Medium-level elites. Trained by one of the noble factions that ruled the upper dominions of the Underworld.
He'd been seen.
He wasn't supposed to be here. Not at the Gate.
Certainly not on the eve it was set to open.
They were coming to kill him.
The shard he held—pulsing with arcane power—grew hotter with every step. The Gate was awakening. It would open soon, but only for thirteen seconds. If he missed it, he wouldn't get another chance for a year.
Ray growled low.
> "I didn't survive this long to die before my evolution."
He leapt across a jagged rift, then twisted midair, releasing a burst of black mist behind him. The smoke cloud erupted and masked his scent. A second later, an acid spear slammed into the stone where he had stood.
The rock hissed, melting into glowing sludge.
They were close.
Too close.
---
Voices from the Abyss
"THERE!" roared a voice, rough and laced with hunger.
"Gatebreaker scum! You'll rot in the Maw for this!"
Ray didn't look back. He knew who they were.
Slayers—a unit of enforcers that served the demonic aristocracy. Trained to eliminate deserters, traitors, and any who dared violate sacred laws.
And what Ray was attempting?
Blasphemy.
To cross into the human realm without noble blood. To touch True Sin meant claiming power meant only for kings.
To the nobility, he was worse than a rebel.
He was competition.
Ray's shadow flickered as he darted through a crumbling ravine. He could feel their auras growing closer, pressing down like a storm.
---
The Gate Awaits
A rumble trembled through the Hollow.
Ray's shard flared—blinding white runes streaming out from it in pulsing lines.
The Gate was responding.
It was beginning to open.
He could feel it now—just over the next ridge. A wide clearing surrounded by sigils older than time. The portal itself would be fragile, a tear in reality's veil held open by infernal geometry.
He had seconds to get there before the Slayers caught up.
Ray dropped low, crawling through a jagged tunnel. Behind him, one of the Slayers screamed and launched a wave of flame through the opening.
Ray rolled forward as fire chased his tail, singeing his fur.
His heart thundered.
He wasn't strong enough to fight them all. Not yet.
He needed that Sin.
He needed the world of man.
---
The Final Stretch
He exploded from the tunnel mouth into a scorched basin. The Gate stood at its center—thirty feet tall and formed from arching bones and chiseled obsidian.
It was open.
A brilliant rift shimmered in its center, displaying the sky of the human world. Blue. Clear. So different from this lifeless place.
Thirteen seconds.
Ray ran.
Ten.
A javelin of dark ice struck the ground to his right, blasting up shards. Another demon landed in front of him, horns curled back like blades, eyes blazing with Voidfire.
"You will NOT enter the Gate, mongrel!" the Slayer hissed.
Ray skidded to a halt and dropped low into a defensive stance.
He had no time.
He had to gamble.
He activated Mirror Shroud—his body splitting into five afterimages. Each sprinted in different directions.
The Slayer hesitated for half a heartbeat.
That was all Ray needed.
---
The Gate Beckons
He dove past the confused demon, claws scraping stone. Another Slayer fired a spike of crimson energy that tore through two of Ray's illusions, but the real one kept moving.
Five seconds.
He leapt forward.
A sudden weight slammed into his back—another Slayer tackling him midair. They tumbled across the stone.
Ray howled, slashing blindly, his claws catching fur and flesh.
"YOU DARE—!"
Ray didn't answer.
Instead, he bit down on the demon's throat and unleashed Wrath.
The Sin fragment he had consumed—the corrupted version—flared within him. His fangs ignited in red-black flame, incinerating the Slayer's neck in an instant.
Ray surged up, blood dripping from his muzzle.
Three seconds.
The Gate pulsed violently, as if resisting collapse.
Two.
One.
He jumped.
---
Crossing Worlds
The sensation was unlike anything Ray had ever experienced.
His body compressed. Then expanded. Every cell stretched across infinity and snapped back. The very essence of him screamed. A howling wind tore at his soul.
He passed through the veil between worlds.
And then—
Silence.
---
Arrival
Ray slammed into damp earth, rolling several times before coming to a stop beside a moss-covered rock. He coughed, his ribs aching.
Everything was... strange.
The air was clean. The scent of pine, dirt, and wet leaves filled his lungs. No sulfur. No ash. No decay.
He was in a forest.
A real one.
The sky overhead was a dim gray—cloudy, late evening. Birds chirped distantly. The human world. He'd made it.
He stood slowly.
Then he heard it.
A mechanical hum overhead. A light.
Ray looked up.
A flying drone hovered above the treetops, its lens blinking red.
He'd been spotted.
---
Back Into the Shadows
Ray hissed and sprinted into the underbrush.
The trees here were thick, their roots entwined like living veins. His mind raced. Camera meant surveillance. Which meant human eyes—Hunters, perhaps.
He had to find cover. Shelter. He was still weak from the Gate's toll, and the anger he was feeling inside him threatened to tear his mind apart without rest.
He followed the smell of stagnant water, diving into a cave hidden behind a curtain of ivy. There, deep in the shadows, he collapsed.
He had made it.