War was coming to the Gem Dwellers. Not just a Raid, but real war.

  These were the thoughts of all the Crawlers higher up in their theocratic government. It was, after all, under the secret directive of Polumani, the Crawler God of War. Of course, the rest of the government would be opposed, but by the time they found out, it would be far too late.

  The goal was simple: a strike team, one pulling in specialists from every branch to piece together a temporary bridge through the storm. Gem Dweller Humans were known for their technology, their enchantments, which is exactly why their city was well-defended, but they were locked in.

  Crawlers, on the other hand, were known for terrain adaptability. No matter the environment, they would persist, and this storm was not the unassailable fortress it seemed. Not to them.

  True, it would take thousands of dedicated Crawlers above the three-hundred level range together to get even fifty through, but that would be enough. A single terror attack, and they had no doubt the Gem Dwellers would be forced to respond.

  They were weak right now, and normally would be forced to run, but War gave them a crucial piece of information: the Gem Dwellers were harboring a new Slaughterer, one that was only two years old, who’d been a Slaughterer since before even his first birthday.

  The younger a Slaughterer found their path, the more powerful their Achievement- at the same time, the younger ones were more feral as well, nigh uncontrollable.

  The Crawlers had no doubt that launching an attack on the weak Gem Dwellers, no matter how quickly their defenses responded or how little damage they did, would cause the new Slaughterer to go berserk and rampage through the Crawler communities, forcing the hands of the other churches.

  At the same time, the Gem Dwellers would do their best to protect their valuable asset- the new, loyal, Slaughterer- and damn themselves in the process.

  It was internationally illegal to launch an attack on a nation that was recently besieged by a demon-raid. On paper though? This particular group had been a known terrorist group that was secretly funded by the Church of War for convenient excuses to force others to retaliate against them, and make them the aggressors.

  The terrorist organization would piss off the Slaughterer, who would attack the official churches, and the Crawlers would have a plausible excuse to respond, not attack or declare war, but respond to the Gem Dwellers offense.

  Paper thin excuses, but legally enough.

  The “Head” of this terrorist organisation, nicknamed “Dark Deaths,” looked over his people. After today, he had no doubt he’d actually be caught and executed.

  It was worth it. Anything for his God.

  Turning forward, he found the ten divisions of stabilizers, the people responsible for ensuring the space was habitable enough for him and the chosen fifty to make it through by individually repairing each of the different Realms.

  Weaving through, he got confirmation that everything was in place, and an update that the Spirit Realm was running more stable than the others- that was no surprise. With the maintenance of Leviathans and the stability of the Physical world, the Spirit Realm was always going to be the first to recover.

  Either way, this meant the Spirit Realm would be their main medium of transportation, and that he should be prepared for a somewhat metaphorical journey through the space.

  He and the forty nine others

  Lined up, waiting, and when the signal was given, a circular portal opened to reveal a starless void with only a single lit strip leading directly to their goal in the distance.

  The trained soldiers marched, weapons drawn and ready for anything that may come at them as they studied the terrain.

  The Spirit Realm manifested itself as a jungle, and he smirked as he found it to be the perfect terrain for them. Was it a result of their stabilizers being responsible for this place's creation, or a simple coincidence? Crawlers were, after all, underground primates. A dark jungle was their home.

  As they spread out, though, the silence began to unnerve him. No minor spirits to make even the slightest call, or any minor effect on the land. They were pulling up layers from beneath to support them in the highest section they could, almost pressing against the barrier between the Physical and Spirit.

  For it to be silent, even the deeper layers had to be dead. Something was wrong.

  “Squad one, report,” he called through the short-distance communication Skill.

  “All clear, sir.”

  “Squad two, report,”

  “Clear on our end.”

  “Squad three, report.”

  “...”

  “Squad three, report immediately.”

  “Squads four and five?”

  “Clear.”

  “Clear.”

  “All squads converge on three.”

  They made their way to where Three would’ve been, finding nothing. He frowned, as he saw no sign of their passage, and led the other squads back the way they came.

  Only a hundred feet, he found his soldiers… or what remained of them.

  Limbs strewn about, their corpses gutted. The only part of the body he could find every piece of were the heads, as each of them were lined up in a perfect row, their faces cut down the middle and peeled back, the screams frozen upon their dead faces

  How did he not hear them?

  ‘Those were not weak soldiers. They were elite… Whatever can kill ten of us without even a single other noticing or calling out, wouldn’t need to ambush.’

  He gulped, realizing that the stabilizers had likely pulled up something from below that was best left in the dark.

  “Tight formation, we move fast. Caution is no longer an option.”

  He turned around to take a head count.

  In the far back of his remaining soldiers, a limp corpse hung from the tree, impaled through the heart on one of its branches.

  The others turned with him, and though none of them said a word, they knew. They’d kept watch over each other, no blind spots, but this was not something in their power range. Divine, at the minimum.

  He was placed in the center of the formation for his own protection. Seconds after they collectively stepped forward, a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the trees, one of absolute agony.

  One he recognized.

  The very impaled corpse upon the tree above him.

  He gulped.

  They ran- sprinted really, but that only encouraged whatever monster was in the dark to accelerate their tortures.

  Despite their vigilance, men were pulled away without a single one of them noticing. Even counting the heads in his mana sense one by one, he could never pinpoint the exact second someone was pulled away- like there was always a blindspot they were pulled through.

  They didn’t stay lost for long, though.

  A man that was previously to his right came stumbling out from the trees, his skin completely removed as he bled from his entire body. One of the soldiers in the front struck out, mercy-killing their previous comrade.

  Passing by three others that were nailed to the trees and gutted but still squirming, they were forced to leave them as they formed a clear trail deeper into the jungle, and no ranged attacks made it through before interference blocked them.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Arguably the worst of all was when one of his men fell from the sky, directly in front of their group, and was completely unharmed, but only physically; despite no wounds, marking his body, he was almost incoherent, mumbling about eyes and teeth, voices and silence. Before they could put him down, he slit his own throat.

  All they could do for their fallen comrades was step over the bodies and pray.

  Still, the further they went, the more they dwindled, until the very person in front of him was snatched away- he’d lost himself in the screaming faces in his mind, and that single lapse in attention was enough for his last man to disappear.

  Looking forward, he saw there were only fifty feet left, and slowly came to a stop.

  There wasn’t any point.

  He wouldn’t make it, not if this thing didn’t want him to. He’d have to negotiate his way free.

  He wracked his brain for a solution, and the semblance of a plan formed.

  It was clearly some kind of divine-strength monster, and it enjoyed torturing things… or Sapients. Was it perhaps a monster that hadn’t broken free from The Mother’s grasp, and was now a sadist? It was the only thing that made sense to him.

  “I am on a mission to cause suffering to the Gem Dwellers!” he shouted out to the empty forest, “I’m going to ensure they die out by picking fights they can’t win! This I swear on the System, please! Let me go!”

  He expected some kind of oppressive force to weigh on him… but no, nothing. Even now, it was perfectly invisible.

  “And why, tell me, would I let you hurt my little lovely humans?” he heard the whisper in his ear, feeling the breath and hearing its androgynous voice, even smelling it- a faint flowery scent. He fought the urge to turn and look at what was behind him, eyes locked forward.

  The words extinguished his last hope. This wasn’t a random beast attack, but a hired hand to protect them while they recovered, likely a grand spirit that guarded the Spirit Realm as it was the most likely vector of invasion; there was no other explanation for why it was here, on a raised strip of Spirit Realm. ‘Dammit.’

  “Anything you want, I will get it for you. Money, fame- hell, I can get you more people to torture, as it seems like you enjoyed doing that. There are thousands right outside the gate that will feed themselves to you if you wish.”

  “Mm, tempting? Maybe… but you misunderstand. This space is not required to sustain me. I can take to any Realm I desire, so should I wish to, your little ‘Army’ will be nothing but an entertaining massacre. No, there is nothing you can give me that will allow you to pass… but you can buy the freedom of those in the world above.”

  Two for two incorrect guesses. Not a beast, not a grand spirit.

  He clenched his jaw, already fearful of the request. There were worse fates than death.

  “And what is it you want?”

  “I am so, so very hungry, and seldom does such a delicious meal fall into my lap… the name people call you, Dark Deaths, I can smell it. Give it to-”

  He didn’t let it finish before pulling out his knife and plunging it towards his throat, feeling his hand inexplicably freeze.

  He fought, grinding his teeth as he put everything into killing himself.

  If this thing managed to torture his name out of him, he would be too incoherent to meet his God in the afterlife. There would be no more him. The only other name he had was the one he was born with… but that was barely the first twenty years of his life; the last hundred and fifty would disappear, be pried from him, and leave him rambling.

  He suddenly understood the insane soldiers they’d come across, and grieved that he would not meet them again.

  He strained himself, feeling his soul ache as he pushed against the force holding him, but no matter how many Skills he stacked, his knife would not make it to his throat.

  “Please,” he begged of his God, “Grant me death.”

  Two grand eyes landed on their struggle and, faster than he could process, he was plucked from his mortal body, which slumped to the ground.

  Not only him, but everyone as a part of their company. Thousands reaped into War’s heaven before whatever creature had taken them could extract their names, every Crawler at the border of the Gem Dwellers dying in the same instant.

  He let himself go, reveling in the light of his God’s mercy.

  * * *

  Unknown to Dark Deaths, their plan: to get a Slaughterer to attack on behalf of the Gem Dwellers first, was much closer to success than initially assumed.

  Whisper thrashed and screamed as her newest toys were taken away. She hated when they remembered they could pray for death, as there was no way to ever stop their Gods from giving it to them! If she could only get them into her mind dungeon, she could get them, but she’d failed at the most important one!

  She went through the camp of Crawlers, not even a single living one to be found. She smashed their instruments, shredded their bodies, and scattered them about, scaring off most of the fauna that had only just moved back in to fill the vacuum of demon-kin. She was an unstable Slaughterer throwing a tantrum, and it could be felt throughout the caves as she collapsed the surroundings and sent tremors out in all directions.

  Feeling that her rampant destruction made her feel no better her attention back to the Gem Dweller capital, she could see that the revelry was dying down and, most importantly, Justin slept in his room. She enjoyed his presence a lot, and she was in a horrible mood right now. He would make her feel better, and hopefully he could get her some criminals to “Eat.”

  She appeared in his room as a whirlwind, but nothing was flung from the desk or walls- he’d already nailed everything down before she ever arrived. The fact that he fully expected to deal with her fury in exchange for helping them- and he had calmed her twice already so far- was somehow both endearing and grating. She liked that he was considerate, but she wanted an excuse to break more things!

  Maybe she should go attack Dei… but no, she promised Justin she wouldn’t.

  Justin was up in moments, asking “Whisper? What’s wrong?”

  “They got away!” she said furiously in his ear.

  “Who?”

  “The Crawlers! Some of them were here to make Dei attack the Crawler society so that they could attack the Gem Dwellers, and their leader got away! Along with almost all of the foot soldiers! Their God pulled them up.”

  Justin didn’t miss a beat, saying “That’s absolutely awful, if they were going to do something that immoral, they could have at least had the courage to face their consequences.”

  Whisper hissed and growled, almost asking Justin to find some criminals, but abruptly lost all motivation. What was the point? Even if she called it eating, she didn’t actually consume their names… she just enjoyed having a sense of self.

  She’d given up everything to survive the Screaming Abyss, including her centralized Identity. Taking names gave her a temporary satisfaction, but it wasn’t what she wanted. She just wanted to be normal again.

  But that came with a price.

  As a Voiceless Crier, she was only theoretically killable, but she didn’t have to fear anything. In order to become someone again, she would need to be weak.

  Her eyes landed on Justin, a little Shaman who worried for her. One who’d immediately thought of her when he needed help. She knew she wasn’t the best at tracking, and couldn’t really find Dei as Justin needed her to at first. He’d worked her into his plans, even if she wasn’t optimum, because he trusted her.

  Feeling the silence stretch on, Justin said “Whisper? Are you okay?”

  Maybe she should trust him as well.

  “Do you know my previous name?” she asked quietly, even for her.

  Justin froze for an instant- an eternity for him.

  “No. The elves have killed anyone who knew, and suppressed that knowledge.”

  “...Do you want to?”

  His expression softened, “Whisper, I don’t need to know your weakness. I don’t need a way to hurt or take you down, I trust you. If there’s some unusual request you want to make, I trust that you’ll do so to your best judgement.”

  The embers of her smoldering rage were doused. She could stop here, but she pressed on nonetheless.

  “It doesn’t hurt me, and that isn’t why I want you to know. Just… please? It doesn’t work well if I say it.”

  Justin took on a confused expression, but still nodded. “Okay.”

  Still, she couldn’t bring herself to do any more than write it down, tearing it from an empty page in a weighted notebook on his desk, a gust carrying it to his outstretched hands.

  He seemed almost afraid to read it, but it was at her request. Steeling himself, he looked down for a moment, nodded, and burned the paper.

  Looking up to where he knew she watched him, he said “Lathassia?”

  She shuddered, the expansive magic of her body that covered the city and beyond crushing in on itself painfully.

  Justin stepped forward, concerned, and again said “Lathassia? Are you okay?”

  The process accelerated precariously, and only a second later, a growing ball of light formed in the center of his room.

  Memories swam through her head, forgotten fragments of a childhood, her mother’s face… of falling into that crevice, the space between, and stumbling into the Screaming Abyss.

  Of losing her mind.

  The light reached a crescendo, then blinked out- the feminine figure of Lathassia falling from the air, gently caught by a panicked Justin.

  “What happened?” he asked, distressed.

  “This is what happens if I hear my name and start thinking of who I once was,” she answered, “I don’t want to be Voiceless right now… please stay with me for a little bit?”

  “Of course! Anything you need at all. Let me, uh, let me get you some clothes.”

  She clung to him, “Mm, no, they’re too grating. This body is easily hurt.”

  Her words, unsurprisingly, did nothing to calm the panicked Justin.

  “Just let me rest on your bed.”

  He jumped to grant her request, placing her down in the center of his bed and pulling away, but she tugged him back. “You too. It’s cold.”

  Justin was utterly distraught, but obliged. She clung to his arm, feeling the circulating air brush against her skin. A novel feeling after so long, but one she didn’t realize she missed, filling her with a deep longing for home.

  She was lying about being cold, of course. Justin’s room had enchantments to keep things perfectly comfortable, but Foresight users were terrible about assessing their pasts, and he’d likely forgotten about that fact. Still, his body heat provided her with the security she needed to feel more than any physical sensation.

  “If I go to sleep, will you keep me safe?” smiling as she listened to his heart accelerate.

  “Absolutely. With my life.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and closed her eyes. For as long as she could remember, her dreams were only that of the Screaming Abyss, but tonight, she found her mind quiet.

  With this, Book 2 is complete!

  Honestly, the previous chapter was supposed to be the Epilogue, but it felt too… linear. Too normal to be an Epilogue, so it was just a regular chapter and I marked it as such.

  Still, I didn’t want to open any plotlines, as Book 3 is going to be much more open-ended, with more time skips as Dei focuses inwards, on refining his existing tools and his burgeoning domain. Rather than introduce the movements of enemies that won’t be seen for a long time, I decided to just make the Epilogue about Whisper and what happened to her after the end of the war, as she’s the only other known Slaughterer. Also, there were some people asking about a war with the Crawlers from when Aloran met with their Pantheon wayyyy back in the Epilogue of Book 1, so I thought it’d be ironic to show their failed assault in the Epilogue of Book 2.

  Altogether, I hope yall have enjoyed my story so far, and I'll see you next week!