Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player

By the grace of… the Flame, Kieran clobbered down a set of spiraling steps beyond the citadel's great hall, coming across an area resembling nothing so much as a hallowed sanctuary, likely a converted sept to say a prayer or perform a dirge before stepping out into a gruesome war.

Kieran hadn't learned much about this citadel, but the layout of it spoke to its creation not having a singular purpose. Though it was outwardly a citadel, an edifice of protection, the inside seemed almost religious in layout.

'Some strange cross between a fortress, cathedral, and maybe… a what? Castle?'

The Flame's strange familiarity unsettled Kieran more than the structure itself. It navigated the extensive, labyrinthine pathways with ease afforded to only those who have walked its corridors countless times. Or, perhaps Kieran was being too critical of the Flame.

Trusting the Flame came easy to no one, but Kieran was especially mistrustful of its motives.

His every experience was flecked with the Flame's influence or coincidentally aligned with its desires. But, he had no better guide during this Trial. All other options had perhaps a single thing to offer in terms of knowledge, but the Flame was an untapped well of guidance-giving enigma.

The Flame was a guilty pleasure personified, or maybe more aptly, an unhealthy — ruinous, even — addiction.

Though his curiosity blazed like a brilliant inferno, the session with Rhaenys left Kieran worse for wear, and the accumulated fatigue strangely didn't dissipate as fast as the times prior.

He had no way of knowing if this tied into the Flame's leading him here or if it had something to do with the Trial itself.

It was all uniquely baffling.

Finding a large pillar in what Kieran believed to be an underground vault or a space prepared to become one, he sat against it. He rested his eyes, falling asleep almost instantaneously. His reasons for being here hadn't dawned on Kieran before sleep took hold.

He dreamed, just as strange as his experience above with the opposing citadel, where he witnessed an ancient, cataclysmic war seemingly involving beings beyond his realm of understanding. Still asleep, he jerked and spasm, a cold sweat seeping down his forehead.

Mighty blows thundered by his eardrums, each explosion engendering another involuntary spasm from Kieran, only this scene he witnessed was much different.

A war was being fought on grounds filled with endless rivers of blood flowing through cracked terrain, destroyed so thoroughly abysmal chasms littered the lands and darkness upthrust and blanketed the blood, altering its nature.

Eventually, Kieran's eyes slammed open. He gasped deeply, chest rising and falling in panicked breaths.

'What the hell? That terrain… it's the Ravaged Plain. But it was more than ravaged. It was… was… faced with catastrophe. Armageddon, even. Whatever happens, these lands will never recover from it.'

Dread and despair took hold in Kieran's mind, and he didn't know why? What was happening?

As disastrous as it had been, the prescient vision wasn't enough to shake Kieran, not alone. Death, destruction, and ruin were concepts Kieran had come to terms with. It lost its grip over him long ago, no longer able to trigger extreme reactions.

Yet, here he was, feeling the dreary aftereffects of witnessing… a massacre?

It was carnage, no doubt. But the bodies were absent from the entire vision. Only the sounds of world-ending collisions rang in his ear. Where had that ringing come from? Who was fighting?

What he experienced… Kieran was inclined to believe it was no memory. Well, not in the sense his mind could comprehend. The entire Trial was a memory of sorts, but what was a memory of a memory called?

A hallucination? A mirage? An… illusion?

Kieran stared blankly ahead and scrubbed his face.

'Wait a goddamn minute. A mirage?! Am I still dreaming right now?'

Kieran struggled to his feet but stumbled after, his legs powerless and weak. Looking down, they seemed emaciated and shriveled, like they atrophied from years of neglect, similar to someone who had suffered an unfortunate accident and lost authority over their limbs.

That feeling of powerlessness, however, didn't arouse anything except a mock smile from Kieran.

'Haha, very funny. Fool me once. Shame on you. And… well, fool me twice… there ain't gonna be a twice!'

"Oh, how wrong you are, my beloved child. You are being fooled right now. You should wake soon unless you want your body to be devoured by the Darkness Below."

The Flame's voice, mordant and whimsical-sounding as always, felt like a ray of light guiding Kieran in the dark. A red-gold thread appeared in a lightless scenery, drawing Kieran's attention, pulling his reason to reach out and grasp it.

So, he did.

Pulling on it as hard as he could muster in his peculiar catatonia, he rose. With the Flame serving as his beacon to fixate upon, he broke through a tenebrous surface, finding himself.

Only when he awoke, Kieran was baffled by his surroundings. He was no longer within the underground level, leaning against a massive pillar for support.

All around was an encompassing darkness with a deep chill with icy gale winds.

Kieran's mind reeled, his body turning every which way to fashion reason and understanding from this interminable gloaming surrounding him.

No answer could be gleaned, and his eyes were similarly ineffective, offering precious little by way of discovery. He resorted to his default answer in precarious situations.

'Flame, what the hell is this?'

"This, my child… is what you have been searching for. Did you not raise suspicion toward the missing Screaming Night? Well, here it is. Only, it is no longer the Screaming Night… for its screams have been eaten, absorbed by something more terrifying. Now, it exists as the Darkness Below."

Kieran blinked, confusion still hazing his eyes.

'And how did I end up here?'

"Darkness calls to all that will hear it, and you child… had your ears wide open as you slept. As to how you came to arrive here, the answer is quite simple — you walked here."

Kieran's expression darkened within the devouring twilight.

'You said this is the Darkness Below now? Below what?'

"Below the Citadel of Resentments that your human allies foolishly inhabit. They do not understand the gravity of their errors. Voluntarily stepping into the belly of a beast is a fool's errand."

Citadel of Resentments…

Hearing the name made Kieran's skin crawl, and his mind reel with staggering realization.

'This… is a structure from straight out of the Place of Bane, isn't it?!'

"Precisely, my child. Hm, what's that smell? Fear? Are you scared, my child?"

Kieran quivered while taking in all of this new information.

The Screaming Night hadn't left at all. It was devoured by the Citadel of Resentments and forced down, becoming the now Darkness Below, lacking the power of resentment.

It felt empty but teemed with activity beyond its indiscernible edge. Storms brewed behind the shadowy blanket of darkness.

'Flame… what is going to emerge from the Citadel?'

"Ah, this one? Well… nothing. It's the Ruined Bastion you should be worrying about. In fact, the festival should be starting right about… now! You can't hear it, my child, but the screams have already reached crescendos, and it is glorious!"

'Flame let me out of here.'

"Let you out? No way! It is not yet time for you to make your appearance. They have unknowingly assisted me, so it's only right I return the favor and assist them… in death!"