Trial By Fire Part 4

Chapter 30: Trial By Fire Part 4

Shiro stood amidst the dissipating echoes of the battle, his body screaming in protest. Every breath was a ragged gasp, every movement a symphony of pain. Wounds criss crossed his body, some still bleeding, others already sealing with golden light. He was battered, exhausted, but alive.

The God of Death's voice resonated in his mind, laced with a hint of… approval? "Impressive, Threadbearer. For a first taste of true power, you showed remarkable tenacity."

Shiro coughed, blood trickling down his chin. "Taste… tasted like dying," he rasped.

"A common side effect," the voice chuckled. "Karma is a potent force, Shiro. To wield it is to dance on the edge of oblivion. And you, in your… enthusiasm, have plunged headfirst into the abyss. There will be a backlash. A heavy one."

Shiro ignored the warning, his gaze fixed on the dissipating remains of the demon. A faint, dark miasma still clung to the air, twisting his stomach. He limped towards the spot where the demon had fallen, his footsteps heavy and uneven.

"A key," the God of Death's voice rumbled, the amusement gone, replaced by an undercurrent of urgency. "Amidst the ashes, you will find a key. Take it, and proceed through the black door that will soon manifest."

Shiro reached the spot, his hand brushing against the remnants of the demon. A wave of dark energy washed over him, and he hissed in pain. It felt like his very soul was being scorched. But amidst the ash, his fingers closed around something cold and metallic – a key.

As he clutched the key, a section of the chamber wall shimmered and dissolved, revealing a doorway. It was not made of stone or metal, but of pure darkness, a void that seemed to suck in the light.

With his last reserves of strength, Shiro stumbled towards the door. He stepped through, and the darkness enveloped him. He found himself in a narrow corridor, the walls slick with moisture, the air thick with the stench of decay.

The backlash hit him then.

Nausea twisted his gut, his vision blurred, and his body burned from the inside out. He coughed, and blood splattered on the floor – dark, viscous, and hot. His organs felt like they were shutting down, his muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and he could feel the threads of his own existence straining to their breaking point.

The God of Death's voice echoed in his mind, distant and fading. "The overuse of karmic power… especially for one so new to its embrace… carries a heavy toll. Your chances of survival are… fifty-fifty."

Shiro pressed on, driven by a stubborn refusal to yield. He had to keep moving, and had to reach the end. But the darkness pressed in, the pain intensified, and his strength ebbed away with every step.

Finally, he saw it. A ledge. The end of the corridor. And beyond it… nothing. Just a black abyss, a fall that looked like it would never end.

He reached the ledge, his body trembling violently. He gripped the edge, his knuckles white, and stared into the darkness. The backlash reached its crescendo, and his consciousness flickered.

Then, everything went black.

His grip loosened, his body went limp, and he fell. He plummeted into the darkness, the wind rushing past him, the silence deafening.

He fell for an eternity.

Just when it seemed like the darkness would consume him, a pinpoint of white light appeared below. It grew larger, brighter, until it filled his vision.

And then… Everything was white.