Malik couldn’t waste time wallowing in those memories.

They sat there, heavy in his chest, but he had things to do, people to find, and a sultanate to run.

Feeling sorry for himself and the beginning of his very unfortunate past wouldn’t get any of that done.

So he opened the Fear System and bought One Roll for the Wheel Of Fortune.

One way to get rid of this solemn feeling was to gamble it away!

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick—

DING!

—

{Ember’s Touch — Peak!}

—

’Oh...’

He’d won with no fuss.

’Thanks, system.’

Perhaps it was consoling him.

The Rune hummed in his chest, warm and ready.

Malik Willed it to calm down, stood up from the throne, and stretched his neck.

’Now... where’s Noor?’

His grand vizier had been missing since he returned.

No one knew where she was, and Malik didn’t like that, not one bit.

He wanted to meet Safira and Huda again; that was true; some part of him missed them. But he knew that they were safe.

Again, Safira was in some cave, circulating her Rukh, while Huda was in the West, handling business.

They could wait.

Noor couldn’t.

She was likely in a... less than ideal situation.

’It might be another rescue mission.’

And who better to help him rescue her than the leader of his most special unit?

...

Kabir walked behind Malik, heading towards one of the meeting rooms in the Holy Palace.

The large man was trying to keep a calm face, ’trying’ being the keyword. His shoulders were too stiff, and his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides.

’He’s nervous...’

Malik noticed that.

’Why? There’s no way that he too is a—’

Then it hit him.

’Right. I’m the Sultan. People get weird around me.’

Perhaps that king’s betrayal had affected him more than he thought, making him doubt, even if only for a moment, his most loyal of people. The ones who seemingly never left him, even in the past.

Kabir had only reacted much like the others upon standing close to him. Wide eyes, which led to trembling, and repeated glances at Malik’s face with utter disbelief.

The rest of the Guard of the Fifth was worse.

They stood in the meeting room when Malik entered, a dark space with a long table in the center, maps pinned to the walls, and weapons stacked in corners.

These were his shadows, the people who’d die for him without hesitation.

And they were crying.

Sure, it wasn’t all of them, but enough.

Men and women who’d seen horrors that would easily break the strongest, standing there with tears streaming down their faces, completely unabashed about being seen like this.

Malik stopped in the doorway.

’I’d think they despise me if I didn’t know any better.’

He almost laughed at the thought, almost.

’...but yes. This is nice.’

Instead, he walked to the center of the room and clapped his hands.

"Well, we need to find Noor."

The unit snapped to attention, wiping their tears away.

They were professionals... they’d cry later.

Behind Malik, the air shifted.

Dunya had arrived, materialized from seemingly nowhere.

"Hee!"

Her hands were clasped, and her smile was bright, already ready to teleport them wherever they needed to go.

"Thanks."

Malik nodded at her with acknowledgment.

Then he turned to the map in the middle of the table.

Ice was in the North. Fauna was in the West. Corruption was in the East. Sand was in the South. The Center—Markaz—where the Abyss was, neared their sultanate. Sat just above it, actually. A bit too close.

"My Sultan..."

One of the unit members spoke up, a woman with blonde hair and a beautiful face.

"Lady Noor was last seen in her Royal Chariot returning to the Last City from the South."

’From the South... over the Abyss.’

Malik repeated in his head.

’Her chariot flew, then. That’s handy, I might get one.’

He didn’t say that out loud, of course. Instead, he stared at the map for a long moment, tracing the routes and figuring out where a flying chariot could have gone down.

"Form a shadow cohort. I’ll take the lead."

No one argued.

No one ever argued.

***

’These bastards dared attack me while I was most vulnerable?! Where is their honor?!’

A gorgeous, young-seeming lady, with long black hair and dark eyes, repeatedly pulled at the chains connecting her to the wall.

’And an illusion Magi at that?!’

She wore revealing clothes, those of a dancer, making it obvious that what she previously inwardly screamed about, her being ’most vulnerable,’ was when she was dancing.

’I would’ve lost either way, but at least it could’ve been an honorable fight! These invaders know nothing of nobility!’

The lady and her thoughts seemed beyond arrogant.

If she could raise her chin any higher, she likely would’ve.

"You’re all dead the moment I get out of these chains, you hear me?!"

Thankfully, it seemed that whoever kidnapped her was smart enough not to push her too far.

Otherwise, well...

"Now give me my smoke pipe!"

She would’ve ended her own life to take them alongside her.

***

Malik walked through the streets in his weakened state.

Yes, he trusted the Guard of the Fifth with his... ’disguise.’

It was better for them to know about it with such a context than without, leaving them to make up their own.

This journey could be long, and he didn’t expect to keep up his younger appearance throughout.

Besides, it would fit the theme of the mission.

He couldn’t go undercover while looking like the Sultan, could he?

No. That would defeat the whole point. Furthermore, and again, he knew that not only were they his most special unit, but also the ones who were with him until the end of his life.

In other words, they likely knew some of his secrets already.

If Malik were to trust anyone with this, it’d be them. And no, it wasn’t like he didn’t trust the others, but the Magi here would die before such information could leave their minds.

It was that simple.

So.

It was only him and Dunya walking the streets once more, with the rest of the unit in the shadows.

They were headed southward... towards the Abyss.

Malik noticed the excitement in the air.

People were happy.

Many were there, excited to dive the Abyss’s depths again. Groups of young men and women gathered at checkpoints, checking their gear, comparing weapons, and arguing about the best routes.

It was no mystery why so many people were there.

Malik’s return had brought enough safety for them to continue a normal life.

The Demon waves were weaker, the borders were more secure, and the traitors were being dealt with.

A normal life—for many of these people—included diving into the depths of the Abyss to obtain Holy Relics, Runes, and the best of treasures.

This was a role many knew as seekers.

And apparently, many were new to this profession.

There were hundreds of shepherds around, guides that called out their fees, experience, and success rates.

Some included equipment in their prices; most, though, were without, unable to afford the basics.

Malik listened to them as he passed.

"Five gold for a first-layer dive! Safety guaranteed!"

"Ten gold, no equipment, but I’ve got ten years of experience!"

"Newbies welcome! Half price for groups of four!"

He filed the information away.

It wasn’t that he needed a shepherd; he had Dunya and his unit, but knowledge was knowledge.

Naturally, Malik didn’t know much about the Abyss, where he and his siblings once survived.

He’d heard about it, seen it in his memories, but never with his own two eyes.

What he did know was that it was unfathomably massive.

A hole in the planet that didn’t make sense.

But, of course, this Abyss wasn’t just any hole.

Besides sitting smack in the middle of their planet, a pit so deep, most swore it punched right down to the planet’s core. No one had ever reached the bottom... except himself, apparently.

While the Abyss devoured all, it also pushed out the remains.

A gaping maw surging with Rukh like a living, breathing thing.

But even though the Rukh flowed upward, its presence crushed.

Meaning that anyone trying to leave its depth would have their Soul squashed, literally.

After all, if one dove into much thicker Rukh, leaving such regions would have them decompress much like a diver in the ocean.

By the time they reached the top, death would have been sure to welcome them.

It truly was a Hellish layer cake, each "slice" deeper and deadlier than the one above it.

First layer? Only a hundred yards down. Relatively safe, considered newbie territory.

Second layer? An entire mile. Things would already start becoming strange from there.

Third layer? Ten miles. Only experienced seekers dared go that deep, and most of them didn’t return.

And it just kept escalating.

Numbers climbed as the depths dropped.

Fourth layer. Fifth. Sixth. Each one was worse than the last.

The planet wasn’t just massive; much like the tree, it was gargantuan.

Though he hadn’t seen them yet, Twelve Moons circled the damn thing, and its gravity could crush most mortals visiting from the outside.

So yes, if his tragic memories weren’t enough indication, Malik was about to go to a very rough place, to say the least.

Soon, they reached the official queues.

Lines of people stretching as far as the eye could see, waiting their turn to descend into the Abyss.

Guards checked papers, officials took payments, and shepherds argued with clients.

Malik didn’t have time for any of that.

He looked at Dunya.

She looked at him.

Then she grabbed his arm, and the world twisted.

Using her teleport, they skipped past the queues entirely.

They were already at the edge.

Malik stood before the Abyss and felt his stomach drop.

He couldn’t see the other side, nor could he see the bottom.

Rather, he couldn’t see anything except the darkness coming from below.

Rukh and wind howled up from the depths, smelling of things that had never seen the Suns.

’Here goes nothing.’

He held Dunya’s hand and fell.

Behind him, many shadows followed.

To the Abyss they dove.