From Nini's perspective, she hit the ground hard—paws splayed, butt in the air—and for a moment, the world spun. Then she scrambled upright, fear of the unknown striking her mind.

Taking a quick gander, she found herself in a hallway akin to before, but this one was different. The hallway she found herself in ended abruptly in favor of a void consisting of a swirl of obsidian black, misty pink, and murky purple—an abyss that seemingly swallowed every flicker of light. The edges of the corridor dissolved into nothing, as if the world simply ceased.

Her nose trembled; she backed away on unsteady paws. The darkness pressed in, silent and infinite, like the maw of an immeasurable night.

But then—one pinprick of a mysterious light glimmered far ahead, hovering in the darkness like a lone firefly.

Nini's entire body—ears, tail, even individual hairs—perked up straight at this. Staring at it for awhile, Nini padded forward to the edge bordering the abyss, and tilted her head from side to side, trying to understand what she was seeing.

Following suit, Saa'ir carrying Dama and Mumu carrying Giona landed behind Nini, catching the plush fox's attention.

"What in goddess' name...?" Saa'ir said in response to seeing the ever-reaching void in front of the group. Mumu had an identical reaction akin to Nini's, while Giona retreated a bit more into Mumu's grasp.

Allowing himself only a second to be starstruck however, Saa'ir would catch a glimpse of the same pinprick of light ahead. He then crouched to unload Dama's body off of him, making sure to gently lay him up against the wall before bringing his attention back to the void.

Mumu knelt by his unconcious master's side, both allowing him to check him and safely let Giona go. While Giona immediately cupped Dama's face again, Nini padded over to them, leading Mumu to check her for injuries.

After inspecting Nini, the bear picked her up and touched noses with her, their way of asking if the other was alright. Nini's ears twitched in response; she gave a small, relieved squeak and leaned into the nose kiss, rubbing their stitched noses together affectionately. Mumu did a rather goofy dance knowing his sister was still alright.

When it came to Dama and Giona though, Giona was utterly distraught at seeing Dama's state. Her heartbeat quickened as tears began to stream down her face. "Dama... Dama..." she said on repeat, her voice filled with fear and pain—a pain that was different from normal.

Even though nothing was hitting her, Giona could feel it nonetheless, like a knife repeatedly stabbing her heart. It confused her, as if her body knew something she didn't—understood a feeling she herself couldn't grasp yet.

While she did question why seeing Dama hurt would in turn hurt her so much, her sheer fear of possibly losing Dama and helplessness over the situation overpowered all else. With no other course of action, she just hugged him, pleading for him to wake up as her tears made their way to Dama's face.

Back to Saa'ir, he stood at the edge of the black infinity. Ahead, that same pinpoint of light pulsed within the void. As his gaze sharpened to get a better look, the light wavered. It stretched and formed into a small orb, shaped like a soul—Giona's soul, its gentle radiance flickering with her heartbeat.

"That's our ticket out of here..." He thought, taking a step forward. At the point of impact, a soft ripple snaked through the darkness.

However, as if in response, the air then shifted, colder and heavier. The ripple Saa'ir created continued to undulate from beneath his foot, waving outwards. Eventually, the shadows deeper in the void began to gather into one shape.

Just as Saa'ir feared, before him rose the Curse of Hatred from the inky abyss: a towering silhouette of living darkness, its eyes burning white-hot, its grin yawning wide enough to swallow light. Tendrils of shadow curled around its form.

Saa'ir's jaw clamped shut as the Curse of Hatred smiled—their gazes locked, no words exchanging between the two.

Without hesitation, Saa'ir reached for his soulura in one fluid motion, a gray aura flaring around his fists. He thrust both arms forward—chanting the syllables of a binding spell and casting it—but the moment his incantation touched the Curse, the tendrils intervened and recoiled, extinguishing his magic as though it were mere smoke.

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The creature's began to surge for a counterattack, shifting its mass with horrifying speed. Its other shadow-tendrils then lashed out with powerful speed. Saa'ir dodged with a side hop, but the attack still allowed a droplet of fear to creep into his heart from the sheer power behind it. The droplet of fear would fester into a lake once Saa'ir realized their was another tendril coming his way at an impossible angle. Despite still being in midair, Saa'ir landed just in time to twist his body enough to avoid the strike—but not entirely.

The tendril snagged his right hip, tearing his white chiton and exposing skin, a normally impossible thing to do to Saa'ir. However, the Curse of Hatred was far from a normal entity, something Saa'ir thought he already knew, but would come to find out just how dangerous it was.

Grunting from the surface scratch, Saa'ir staggered back, noting how his Soulful Technique seemingly disappeared once it hit the Curse of Hatred. Giving him no time to think though, the Curse of Hatred would roar and whip more tendrils towards Saa'ir.

Focusing solely on defense for the time being, Saa'ir altered his footwork and took note of each tendril coming his way—six in total, each one as slender as a small snake.

The first tendril came from the left side, but Saa'ir pivoted on his right leg, dodging the tendril and turning his back to the oncoming ones in the process. Despite losing sight, Saa'ir dodged the second tendril with a precise one foot backflip, then the third by first landing in a left-handed handstand, then launching himself forward into the air.

Now in the air, Saa'ir watched as the remaining three tendrils homed in on him, twisting and intermingling with each other, creating a thicker tendril that continued to spiral like a drill towards their target. Saa'ir, in response, simply closed his eyes as he spread all of his limbs out, as if in freefall.

Then, with a determined glint of silver in his eyes as he opened them back up, his aura would flare alive, engulfing his entire body. Only for a moment though, as most of the aura proceeded to pool into both of his hands, shifting and molding itself like a liquid clay.

Bringing both hands down to where the met at the bottom of the swing at the end, making a v-shape, a blinding light erupted from Saa'ir's attack clashing with the Curse of Hatred's tendrils.

Once the flash subsided, Saa'ir was on the ground, looking down and kneeling, his body still covered in his aura. His hands, which were crossed, had his aura shaped into two wide blades, making them into weapons.

Looking up with the same determined look, Saa'ir lunged towards the Curse of Hatred, intending to start the offensive. Bringing both hands together to his side, a brilliant sword soon took form in Saa'ir's hands from the sheer amount of aura pooled into them. Bringing the sword above his head, Saa'ir let out battle cry as he brought it down on the Curse of Hatred, who just hauntingly smiled—no sign of trying to defend itself.

One second, the blade of pure soulura was glowing as bright as Saa'ir's determination. However, it was the next second—the moment it touched the Curse of Hatred—that gave a glimpse into the danger Saa'ir was fighting.

Like some black hole, the darkness that made up the Curse of Hatred's body absorbed it the soulura blade, snuffing the glow like a candle in a storm. Next thing Saa'ir knew, six lashes appeared on his arms and chest. Each strike from the Curse rang in his ears like thunder—unyielding, relentless. Within moments, Saa'ir was sent flying back and hit a stone wall with a pained grunt, collapsing back onto the lake of shadows, face-first.

For a heartbeat, the silence claimed the area—Saa'ir lying crumpled, Mumu and Nini bristling with alarm, with Dama still unconscious. But before the Curse of Hatred could finish off Saa'ir, a soft, small voice cut through it all.

"Curse…" Giona whispered, stumbling onto the lake of shadows. Mumu and Nini both perked up in immense shock, not realizing Giona had left due to them watching Saa'ir fight. Now in the abyss, Giona half-walked, half-floated between Curse and Saa'ir, arms trembling. The orb of her soul above them pulsed brightly, as if in response to her presence.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, but her voice was clear. "I...I missed you." Her lips curved into the same innocent smile she once shared with Curse a year ago. "I don't understand why.... You taught me kindness. You called yourself my friend—like Dama does."

Giona looked down as she brought her hands to her chest, thinking on what Tsubasa told her about love. Smiling as she remembered all that Curse has done for her, leading to her to meeting Dama, Tsubasa, Mumu and Nini, Giona looked back up at Curse with the utmost gratitude in both voice and expression. "I am so glad we, uh, can meet again! Thank you, Curse, I love you!" She said as she held out her hand, palm up, fingers curled in a gentle invitation—the same exact way Curse held out its hand for Giona that fateful night. "Friends forever?"

In that moment, the wide smile that was on Curse's face this entire time faltered. Its hollow mouth closed just enough to still remain visible as a slender white line. Its tendrils halted midair. The silence that followed stretched for what felt like aeons.

But then—a tired and strained cry from the corridor behind Giona: "Giona, no! Get away from that thing!!"

Dama's voice, raw, cracking, and urgent, snapped through the atmosphere like a whip. Giona turned her head, confusion furrowing her brow.

In that instant of looking back, the Curse's hollow grin returned with savage joy—wider and more malicious than before.

-

Next: (Chapter 67) Innocence and Betrayal

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