The darkest evils locked away. They'd been herded together once, long ago. The Negaverse did not always solve their problems with violence and destruction. Sometimes they just locked them away. Sometimes they forgot what they locked away, or why.
Sometimes they didn't know.
But those doors had been closed for hundreds of years. Time had not worn them down. Claws and teeth and brute force had not worn them down. The youma who had been trapped in there had lost what little sanity they ever had. They were brutish, hulking creatures who had worn themselves down.
But they did not die.
They stared at the door, brokenly, until they forgot what it was.
But he remembered.
And he survived. Not whole. Nothing was whole, not in this prison. But he had survived. He remembered them closing, although the figures were shadows in his mind. He remembered being lost in the herd of monsters. Struggling, fighting to get away. But he hadn't been strong enough then. He had watched, in horror, as the doors closed.
It felt like an age ago, but then—so did everything.
Hours, days, years. Centuries. They passed in a slow blur. Days were all the same. The fight to stay alive was always the same. Sometimes they tore themselves apart. Sometimes they just stopped moving.
Locked in an infernal pit of the worst, most savage youma—feared by even the Negaverse. Uncontrollable, monstrous beasts, let loose by a twist of fate.
It was not a life worth living.
But then the doors had been opened.
Doors that should have stayed closed forever had been opened, and when the youma had flooded from behind those locked gates, he fled with them, hidden among them.
The Rift was suddenly an open playground.
But he was not here to play.
He barely knew this environment, but it didn't matter. So much had changed since he last remembered this place. The youma didn't seem to care either way; they had spread in all directions. Some leaked deeper into the chaotic lands. Some had found themselves in the safer territories governed by the Negaverse. Some had slipped into Destiny City.
That was where he needed to be.
There, and then…
And then…
It was not an easy journey, but he persisted. The Rift was near to impossible to navigate, and every corner was a new threat. He couldn't give up. He fought.
Through hoards of youma strong enough to strike fear into the Negaverse. Across caverns that seemed to drop forever, and mountains speckled with sword-like crystals. Through cold and heat and darkness.
Always the darkness.
But he was no stranger to darkness.
And when he finally found the crack, the divide between this hell and their world…
When he tore through from the Rift and felt the cool breeze against his skin. When he smelled the brisk winter air. When he heard the crunch of snow beneath his feet. When he saw the lights of the metropolis on the skyline, glistening like the stars in the sky.
This was his moment.
He was free.
Quote:
Order Characters: You might have felt something different, something weird in your recent patrol. You can't quite place it, but something felt very…off. You can't tell what it was or where it came from, but for a single moment it prickled at your conscience, like a nagging thought you just couldn’t shake. Like a voice in the back of your mind, calling to you. Loud enough to echo, but too quiet to make out clearly.
Something was different. Something wasn't right.
But you don't have enough time to figure out just what it was, because the sensation was only there for a moment.
Even when it was gone, a faint sense of dread lingered.
Something was different. Something wasn't right.
But you don't have enough time to figure out just what it was, because the sensation was only there for a moment.
Even when it was gone, a faint sense of dread lingered.
