Published at 14th of April 2026 11:58 pm

Chapter 5. Call upon the abyss

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With a plan in mind, I activated a talisman so I wouldnt waste my own mana. The moment a see-through shield spell materialised, a black needle crashed into it with a loud snap. I ducked under the next attack and sprinted down the corridor. The doorway at the end, where the man had been shot, was my destination. I pulled out the glass bottle with my special holy water concoction. Whatever lived here should feel the antithesis of its own energy radiating from the bottle.

As I was almost at the place where the man died, the trap sprang. The doors to my left leading into the bathroom swung open, and a massive spike made out of shadows flew straight at me. No shield at the first- or second-circle could block that attack entirely, as it was prepared and overcharged with mana in advance, almost reaching the level of a third-circle spell. The feeling of triumph radiated from the creature.

Gotcha, I said.

Panthers Agility

I used a second-circle spell stored in the staff and barely twisted myself out of the way of the spike. My left hand, holding the compass-like talisman, made contact with the projectile, and some of the mana seeped into the contraption as the force of the strike threatened to rip it from my hand. A trick only possible thanks to the exact angle and moment of the attack being revealed to me.

I heard a shriek of anger coming from down the hall as I took the compass-shaped amulet and activated it. Once the needle was locked in the direction of the spirit, all I needed to do was rip it apart. Even if it dematerialised, the talisman would point to the anchor. I had it cornered. I checked for any signs of an attack and then looked down at the contraption.

That moment of triumph was also my biggest mistake. The second the amulet activated, I was ready to fire off a spell in any direction it pointed, but it just started to spin around like a carnival ride.

I tried to use a shield talisman, but I was a heartbeat too late. The attack connected. It was a dark, razor-sharp blade made of shadows that flew at me, but this time, it just materialized almost right in front of my face. The only thing saving my life was the fact that I was on edge, knowing there was a variable I was not aware of, and the lingering effect of the Panthers Agility.

To my surprise, the strike ripped through my armor, and only the slight movement I managed to make changed it from one that would have cut my throat to one that just left a long wound on the side of my neck.

I quickly used the staff to recast Wailing Armor, using up my last second-circle instant spell as two more attacks nearly connected. What followed was like rain pattering on concrete. The projectiles now rained from everywhere, originating right next to me, not from shadows or the strange being now standing at the end of the hall, smiling. No, they simply appeared in midair, out of thin air.

It seemed the attacks couldn't appear right on my skin. There was some buffer, but not much. I didnt understand how. It made no sense, but I had no time to think about it. I was repeatedly recasting Shield to block the assault coming from all angles, using the time bought to cast another one before the old spell gave out. But I could not keep going like that. The creature had more resources in its home territory, and once my mana was out, it would rip me to shreds. I needed to break the balance.

I tried to move towards the stairs, but stopped, seeing the thick tendrils of darkness protecting the windows. It would not let me out this easily. I was too deep in the house. If I were capable of panicking, I probably would be right now, but my mind was still focused. I needed a solution in the next thirty seconds.

It was time to gamble.

Allowing some of the attacks to be taken by the Wailing Armor, I used the time to cast Dome of Protection, a second-circle spell much stronger than Armor or Shield, but not mobile, putting as much mana into the magic as I could without it going out of my control.

I quickly followed the dome with Muffle, cutting off all sound from my surroundings. I sat down like a monk meditating in the rain, the water drops replaced by deadly needles ready to turn me into a skewer.

With the stronger cast of the dome, I had maybe twenty seconds. With my thoughts speeding up in the state of meditation, I may have bought half a minute of uninterrupted thinking time before my demise.

How was the creature attacking? Was it spatial magic? But that was hard to cast and took massive amounts of power that I would feel.

A trap created by my broker? No, that was unlikely. The organization wouldnt destroy its thousands-of-years-old image for one assassination.

No, I needed something simple. Most of the time, the most obvious answer was the right one.

I felt the dome creak, and it hit mea simple answer. My eyes shot open from the emotional rollercoaster. There was an explanation I didn't consider because it was impossible. But it was simple and fit, and if it was simple and fit, then it should be correct.

But it cant be. Some part of me protested.

A torrent of thoughts was now squirming inside of me.

How?

Why?

Impossible.

Am I sure?

Should I gamble my life on the impossible?

The simple answer was not spatial magic but planar magic. There existed creatures with the ability to cast from other planes when very close to their nests. If this were the case, then the creature fit as well. It was not a ghost, spirit, apparition, or any other being that I knew, but one that I read about in old books. It was a spawn, a ghost-type undead that would weave a separate, plane-like nest where the universe's mana vein met the mortal plane.

It all fit. It would be a great explanation if not for one small problem. Mana veins no longer existed.

I felt the dome strain. I needed a way to turn it around, fast. All I confirmed, assuming that I was right, was that I was screwed.

But then a terrible idea occurred to me. If this place was connected to a vein, it would also connect to the rest of the universe. If that were the case, could I, or more importantly, should I, contact something from another plane?

It could be suicide, but

I firmed my resolve as I let the dome crack, not casting a new one. I closed my eyes once again while arrows of death hurled towards me. This time, instead of meditation, I went deeper into myself.

Time outside lost meaning as I fell through my own psyche, then deeper, beyond the mind and into the soul. The feeling was like the sensation of falling one gets when they jerk awake in their bed, but it was constant. I felt myself in a free fall until every sensation ceased, and I arrived.

A place of primal fears, a part of the unconscious mind connected to the soul, responsible for the greatest fear of all.

The fear of the unknown.

If entered by any person, their mind would collapse at the sight of primal terror itself. But it was just an empty space for me. Well, almost empty.

Everything hinged on this one card. The moment I exited this place, I would be killed.

I looked around. It lacked any landscape, like a massive field of gray, cracked ground in permanent half-darkness. Whenever I arrived, it was always the same. The spot where I stood was lit up like I was standing under a streetlight at night. And no matter what, I would arrive standing with my back facing IT.

I took a peek over my shoulder.

A swirling abyss. A wall of darkness so deep that even looking at it made it seem like the light never existed, like it was but a fever dream of humanity. The Liquid Chaos, the Nothingness that devours, lair of the Blind Dreamer.

I knew I should break eye contact, because if I stared too long, something would stare back.

I ripped my eyes from the darkness and looked to my right. Tere was a rope there. I could not tell where it originated, even if I tried. It looked like an old linen rope, one end stretched far into the gray landscape, disappearing on the horizon, and the other vanishing into the darkness behind me. A symbol of a contract made years ago.

What I felt in that moment was the closest I could get to fear. I knew I should be terrified. Everything in me screamed to cower in terror. My mind should have been pulverized by the smallest part of the entity behind me, but at the same time, I could not feel the emotion that should have killed me right then.

My shaking hand approached the rope, knowing I couldnt stay in this space forever. I was still running through scenarios for other solutions, but nothing came to mind. I took a deep breath.

Placing my finger on the rope, I tugged ever so gently, and it was attached. Any other time I tried that anywhere but in front of the statue or the Gods idol, the line would just fall to the ground at the slightest touch. But now it was firmly attached to something in the darkness.

One more deep breath.

Let's get it over with, I whispered to myself.

I cleared my mind of any doubt. I was empty.

'Nullus affectus in insaniam spiral. Nulla cupido in obsessionem crescat. Nullus metus in phobiam vertatur. I recited the old mantra.

No emotion to spiral into madness. No desire to grow into an obsession. No fear to twist into phobia.

And with one quick move, I pulled on the line and invoked the eldritch god's name.

Azathoth

The being on the other end answered according to the contract made years ago. Back in the real world, I awoke from the trance to the sound of a shattering dome spell as the arrows of darkness flew toward my heart.

But that didnt matter.

An eldritch energy exploded from me, a force with a will to twist, corrupt, and unmake all it touched. With a titanic flex of will, I forced it under control before it could start corrupting everything around me, myself included. The darkness itself was no match for such power.

Then I opened my eyes. That was the hardest part. I could feel the blood seeping out of them as I gazed upon raw, unfiltered existence. The particles, other planes, and the knowledge of their workings lay bare before my eyes as I struggled to stop the information flow threatening to split my mind in half. Everything I wanted to know and should not be able to know was begging to be understood.

I could also see the creature in its small, plane-like nest, retreating, knowing something was wrong. Its form, previously layered in shadows, was now clear to me alongside the very energy that made it. I couldnt hold out like that for long. It was a miracle I was still standing as I felt my focus slipping. One mistake, and I would be cursed to join the procession of pipers, keeping the blind god slumbering until the stars were aligned.

Not a fate I was eager for.

Opening my mouth, I fought with myself to get my muscles under control. The signals my brain sent to them were lost somewhere in the chaos. I bit my cheek hard, the pain bringing my control back for a split second, enough to command my tongue to move. Finally, I managed to speak in the eldritch tongue of the abyss.

Squirming Void

A strange, otherworldly magic circle with a crack in the middle, in colors no mortal being could describe, appeared behind me. Eight black tentacles squirmed from it, waiting for my command. All I had in me was one attack.

The creature looked amused, thinking that its home plane would save it, that I couldnt attack it unless I made my way to its lair. But that was a mistake.

Rip was the short command I could muster, and the tentacles made their way to the target.

The creature realized too late, and its hubris was its demise. Arrows of shadow tried to block the strike, but in vain. The tentacles squirmed and crawled in a maddening dance, ignoring the laws of geometry as they arrived in the creature's nest. It tried to run, to exit anywhere, but a black appendage caught its leg. My vision swam as my mind screamed at me to let go. But I needed confirmation.

Once the leg was caught, the rest of the tentacles joined the first, grabbing onto any appendage they could. Then, in place of suckers, mouths filled with crooked teeth opened, biting into the creature and securing it in place. The last thing I saw was the motion of every tentacle pulling in a different direction.

With my last remaining ounce of will, I ended the spell and let go of the contract. Then I lost consciousness, hoping I was fast enough to wake up again.

Painthat was my current state of existence, like the worst hangover of my life, a thousand times. I groaned. It was good news that I even woke up, but being alive at the moment didn't sound so good. A splitting headache, burning pain in my muscles, and an ache in my bones were battling for the first place in suffering.

With a grunt, I opened my eyes, thankfully not to be assaulted by light, meaning it was still night, and I wasnt out for long. I tried to move some of my magic, but the pain that flooded my mind almost made me unconscious again. My entire spiritual self was a massive mess.

First, I needed to get my body back in working order.

Struggling and gritting my teeth through the pain, I finally managed to take one of the bottles from my belt and drink its contents. Now, it was time to lie still and let the potion do its work.

As I lay on the floor, the ending of the fight replayed in my head. And no matter how I looked at it, it was impossible. When the War of Tears happened, Lucifer and the God of the Bible ended up ripping apart all veins carrying mana to our world. But now there was one here. The man should have died right over it, explaining how he became a spawn.

After The Shattering, as the event was called later, many scholars believed the world would heal itself. However, over the course of hundreds of years, it became clear that the magic would never return. Finally, the ancients changed their strategy, attempting to preserve what remained of their traditions as magical creatures hibernated and spirits dissipatedall hoping for magic to return one day. Hoping for something that wouldn't happen.

Then a thought occurred to me. I realized my father must have known something, but what and how, I had no idea. Id have to ask my broker about that.

One thing was certain. Things were about to get much more exciting. It looked like my family's ancient ways would be making a comeback.

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