Chapter 94 Entrance To Hell

Words : 988 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

*** {Inside The Projection} "Don't resist, kid; we don't wanna rough you up too much." Malik didn't need to be told; he knew better than to resist arrest... of course. No tension was in his muscles, no defiance in his posture. He let the officers get close, let them think he was done. Gave them the illusion of surrender, even tilting his head slightly, seemingly bored. "Who snitched?" His question sounded casual like he was talking about the weather. The lead figure didn't hesitate. "The slaves you freed." "...Seriously?" "I find no reason to lie or joke about this." A small chuckle left Malik's lips. He should've known. The irony was almost poetic. The people he saved had sealed his fate. "That so?" Another Faraja member, a younger one, spoke up: "They begged for your life, you know. Said if we had to take you, to at least let the others go. The girl, Safira, and another. Jasmine." '...Jasmine.' Malik exhaled through his nose. So that was their price—his freedom in exchange for theirs. He didn't blame them. If anything, he was glad. What a damn expensive way to buy their own chains off, though. Beautiful, really. In a twisted way. "Don't take it to heart." The younger one added, almost like an apology. Malik shook his head. "Wasn't planning to. Freedom doesn't come cheap. I get it." The leader stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "The girl outside the storm. Safira. She's waiting for you, isn't she?" "Yeah." "And the other one? Jasmine." Malik's calm didn't waver. "Gone." A pause. Then a shove. The leader pressed him into the ground with a hand to his back. "You killed her too, huh? Bastard." Malik met his stare, brow frowning just a fraction. "Yeah... say hi to her for me." Then—before anyone could even think about reacting—his fingers twitched. A tiny flame was brought to life above his pinky. He barely moved, just a flick of his finger, but that was all it took. The flame snapped forward, hitting the sand— Fshh! The ground exploded, blasting his dagger straight back toward him. One smooth motion. One seamless second. His hand closed around the hilt—cracked, barely holding together—but it was his. A sharp twist. A clean thrust. The dagger flew. And just like that, the steel buried itself right in the bastard's throat. Blood gushed. He choked, collapsed. His chain of sand went along with him. Shocked gasps erupted around Malik, but he was already moving, deeper into the storm, into the chaos. He certainly wasn't about to wait to see the aftermath. "Fucker killed Cassim!" "GET HIM!" "YOU WON'T GET AWAY!" Sand exploded behind him. Shouts. Footsteps pounding. Yet none reached him. One fall and he'd be swallowed whole. He couldn't afford distractions. By his hundredth step, the dunes gave way to stone, then buildings—actual buildings. But he didn't stop, not yet. He didn't know if they'd pause outside the land, and he wasn't keen on finding that out. "Get out of the way!" Malik sprinted past rows of structures, shoving past confused people who cursed at him. Though they couldn't do that for long... WHOOOOMPH! The sand at the edge of town exploded, announcing their arrival. He looked back and watched as anarchy erupted. The worms seemingly headed straight for him, smashing into buildings, sending debris flying. "Fuck you." Following his murmur, people screamed, scattered, and ran for their lives. "W-What the fuck?!" "How did they get past the barrier?!" "RUN!" "God, help us!" "They're tearing everything apart!" "My shop! My damn shop!" "Somebody stop them!" "Where are the officers?!" "Move, MOVE!" "Somebody do something!" Many appeared to have died, crushed by the sandworms' massive bodies. It was a harrowing sight, people squashed to paste. Malik didn't have time to feel bad, though. He just kept running, ignoring everything happening around him. Then he saw it—the hill. A lush, green mound in the middle of this Godforsaken place, filled with strange, glowing plants, the air thick with Aether. And at its peak, the vent. Zephyr's Ascension. A single point of many in Al-Fawra where Aether surged, lifting people up and out. This was what he needed, an escape route straight to the outside world. But it wasn't going to be easy. Two, three, four—multiple long-ass lines stretched up the hill, people waiting their turn to pass through the Faraja checkpoint that surrounded the vent made of blue-uniform officers. '...Shit.' Malik knew damn well he wasn't making it through by blending in that line or that checkpoint. His eyes darted around, searching, scanning, anything— Then he saw it, just a few hundred meters away. A second vent. Smaller. Darker. It was a large hole in the rock, spewing out an unnatural wind, not pulling people up but sucking downward. The air around it distorted, warping like heat off the desert sand. The opposite of Zephyr's Ascension. It looked like a one-way ticket to Hell. Malik hesitated. Every instinct screamed at him not to go down there. That thing wasn't an exit—it was a tomb. If survival in the first layer was already this tough... he had no chance of making it in the second; surviving for more than a few minutes might even be a miracle with no chance of happening. But then, before he could make a decision... "He's there! Get him!" The Faraja had found him. "Fuck it." Without a second thought, Malik bolted for the vent. Ten seconds. That was all it took. Screams rang out behind him, but they were just noise—white noise. He wasn't about to give them another shot at grabbing his ankles. No hesitation. No second chances. This hole straight into Hell? It was the only way. Malik dove in.

Chapter 94 Entrance To Hell

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