Liana had never truly understood the meaning of silence until she spent her first hour in the Reaper Realm alone.
The temple had disappeared into a blur of fading bones and shadows. Now she stood in what looked like an endless graveyard. Fog coiled around the uneven ground like fingers reaching for her ankles. Every step sounded like a whisper she couldn't understand. Every flicker of movement in the distance sent a chill crawling up her spine.
Lucien walked beside her, still too quiet, still unreadable.
She broke the silence first. "So, do I need to fight something? Pass a test? Prove my worth?"
Lucien's eyes didn't leave the fog ahead. "You need to survive. For three days. That's all."
"That's not helpful."
"You asked what to do. I'm telling you. Stay alive. Don't trust anything. Even your own thoughts."
She glanced sideways. "Even you?"
That made him stop.
Lucien turned to her, and for a moment, his face cracked. "I won't hurt you, Liana."
"But you said everything here is dangerous. You're part of this place."
"I was," he said. "But now I'm not sure what I am."
Her gaze softened. She reached for his hand, and though he hesitated, he let her fingers touch his.
It wasn't cold.
"Tell me how to survive this, Lucien," she whispered.
He looked around, then pointed to a jagged structure in the distance. "That's where we start. The Hollow Gate. It was once a Reaper stronghold. Now it's abandoned, but the ground is still sacred. You'll be safest there."
She frowned. "Sacred?"
"Meaning the shadows can't touch you without a fight. And they don't like to fight near memory."
"Memory?"
Lucien didn't answer. He started walking again. She followed.
---
The Hollow Gate was a ruin of obsidian spires jutting up from the ground like broken teeth. Fog didn't dare cross the shattered archways, and the sky above the place shifted into a blood-red hue as they entered.
Liana felt something heavy press against her skin—not pain, exactly, but weight. Like a memory that wasn't hers trying to settle into her bones.
"This place is… loud," she murmured.
Lucien nodded. "Every soul that passed through here left something behind. Regret. Hope. Desperation. You can feel them because you're still alive."
"Can you?"
"I try not to."
They entered a circular chamber, empty except for a strange ring of pale stones embedded in the ground. Lucien sat in the center and motioned for her to do the same.
"We train here," he said simply.
"Train? Like, Reaper bootcamp?"
Lucien didn't smile. "You need to learn control. Not power. That's different."
Liana sat, folding her legs awkwardly. "Okay. Teacher Grim Reaper, I'm ready."
He ignored the nickname. "Close your eyes."
She did.
"Breathe in. Slow. Focus on the sound of the realm."
There was nothing at first.
Then — soft scratching, like nails on wet stone.
Lucien's voice guided her. "The shadows will speak to you. Not in words. But in emotion. They'll try to draw you out. Make you fear. Make you run. Don't listen."
The scratching grew louder. Shapes danced behind her eyelids.
"You must stay still," Lucien said. "Or they'll see you."
Liana's breath hitched. "See me?"
"They can't yet. Not fully. Your soul flickers like a candle. If it grows too loud, they'll hear. And come."
The images changed. A burning building. Her mother screaming. Her own reflection cracking like glass.
She whimpered.
Lucien's voice cut through. "Don't let them in."
She clenched her fists. "I can't—"
"You can. Push back."
Liana gasped, then shouted, "ENOUGH!"
The images shattered.
Silence returned.
Lucien opened his eyes. She was shaking, covered in sweat.
But alive.
"You did it," he said quietly.
"I didn't feel like I did anything," she muttered.
"You resisted. That's the first lesson. Now we begin the second."
"What's that?"
"Facing the shadow of your own death."
Liana blinked. "Come again?"
Lucien didn't move. "Every soul carries its end inside it. A mirror of how it might die. You must meet yours."
She stared at him, horrified. "What if I fail?"
"Then you become part of this realm forever. A shadow. Like the rest."
"Oh. No pressure."
He stood, then offered his hand. "Come. The mirror waits."
---
They walked deeper into the Hollow Gate until they reached a wall made entirely of glass. It shimmered not with reflection, but with memory.
Lucien stepped back. "Stand before it. Look inside. But remember: what you see isn't real. Not yet. It's only one path."
Liana stepped forward.
The mirror rippled.
She saw herself — older. Stronger. Dressed in black. Standing alone in a city made of shadow.
Then — a scream.
She fell.
A blade pierced her chest. Behind her… Lucien. Dying.
Liana staggered back. "I can't—"
Lucien caught her. "It's just one version. You can change it. But only if you face it."
She turned, trembling. "How?"
"By accepting it's possible. But not inevitable."
She took a breath. Stepped toward the mirror again.
"I won't die like this," she said. "Not broken. Not alone."
The image rippled… and vanished.
Lucien nodded. "That's lesson two. You don't run from your end. You choose another path."
Liana looked at him. "What's lesson three?"
He hesitated. "Trust."
"Trust in what?"
"In me."