The brooding heat in the forge suddenly seemed to condense into a physical wall of lead, a heavy, suffocating blanket pressing down on everyone’s chest as if the walls themselves were shrinking. Jack o Lent stood there in the twilight, his gigantic pitch-black armor acting like a living piece of darkness that sucked every remaining bit of light from the surrounding flames. With heavy metallic steps that sounded like the strikes of a funeral bell upon the basalt stone floor, he advanced. The steel of his leg plates scraped and creaked with every movement, creating a terrifying mechanical rhythm. He bowed his empty, smoke-wreathed neck, pointing the opening of his collar toward the gigantic figure of Oslo the Nephilim. From the gaping black void of his collar, a hollow, echoing voice rose, making the air ripple.
“I am Jack o Lent…” buzzed the voice, as if speaking from the deepest, forgotten chasms of a bottomless pit. “…and I come to warn you. Within a few heartbeats, a catastrophe will break loose here that will tear the fabric of this world to shreds.”
Oslo crossed his massive, muscular arms. His broad chest heaved in a shrug of absolute indifference and misplaced arrogance. He looked down upon the headless figure with a roaring, confident laugh that echoed through the stone vaults like rolling thunder.
“What on earth could possibly go wrong here, huh?!” roared Oslo, baring his teeth in a wide, challenging grin. “There is absolutely nothing that can—”
Jack o Lent slowly shook his empty neck from side to side, almost sadly, while thick, ice-cold smoke billowed from his collar, suffocating the flames.
“No… you do not understand, blacksmith. You look at your walls of steel and think you are safe. But I was in the Forsaken Shadows… there, in the world of the dead, where time stands still and souls pile up like leaves in autumn. I saw them there. Complete armies, entire forgotten factions, lifting themselves out of the mud and gathering before a gigantic, dark gate that can no longer be closed.”
Oslo furrowed his thick brows. The smile on his face slowly vanished, washed away by a sudden, gnawing doubt.
“A gate? What kind of gate on earth?”
Jack o Lent stepped even closer, until the ice-cold smoke from his armor almost touched the giant’s arms.
“There is a legend on our side… a dark saga about a certain forgeling who, long ago, in a fit of absolute godless madness, forged a dreamcatcher. Not to catch nice dreams, no… he wanted to forge something from the raw, untamed visions of his own mind. Only… that thing never caught dreams. It caught exclusively nightmares. Everything that is rotten, everything that wants to be forgotten, everything that refuses to die. And that cursed dreamcatcher… it keeps catching them, day in and day out, year after year, century after century. And now… after all this time… it is filled to the brim. And when a reservoir gets too full… then it breaks.”
The words fell like chunks of glowing iron onto the floor. Oslo stared at the headless knight, and suddenly all the wrinkles in the giant’s face pulled tight. The color drained from his skin in a flash. The puzzle pieces fell into place inside his head with the force of a hammer blow.
“Surely not…” whispered Oslo, and for the first time, pure, unadulterated panic echoed through the Nephilim’s dark voice. His eyes grew as big as saucers. “No… by the gods… wait, give me just a second…”
With a jerk, Oslo grabbed his waist, pulled a small bone whistle hanging from a leather strap, and brought it straight to his lips.
Tutu-tuuu-ta-ta!
The sharp, cutting tone tore through the forge. Almost immediately, all the dark corners, the deep shadows behind the smelting ovens, and the soot-stained ventilation shafts began to move as if the walls themselves had come to life. Dozens of small, white, fluffy humanoids shot out of the darkness. The Yerfs ran into one another in total chaos, tripped over their own feet, and started screaming in panic in their fast, unintelligible gibberish language.
“Yari-yari ma-ka?! Du-du pa-pa-la-ka!”
Oslo looked down at the chaotic little creatures and screamed over the racket.
“Ehh… umm… get the dream crystal! Right now!”
He waved his gigantic hand wildly.
One of the Yerfs shot out from the group, wildly enthusiastic and completely driven mad by adrenaline, screaming at a pitch that pierced straight through marrow and bone.
“Ua-ma-o-krista..!!”
Explosions, rumbling, and the sound of scurrying feet echoed throughout the hall. In the background, one Yerf raced from right to left, almost tripping over his own short legs but managing to recover at the last second. With a wide, proud grin, he dragged along a large, oval object completely hidden beneath a heavy cloth. He nearly stumbled over the raised threshold of the stone floor, caught himself with his little hands, and called out triumphantly to Oslo.
“Krista!”
Oslo looked at Jack o Lent, his breath catching in his throat.
“Ehh… umm… do you mean this?”
With a quick, hasty jerk, Oslo pulled the heavy cloth from the object.
There it stood: a magnificent, azure-blue crystal mirror that radiated a deep, pulsing magical glow all on its own. But as soon as the heavy air of the forge touched the glass, the azure-blue surface began to hum loudly, a vibration that could be felt deep in their teeth.
And then panic struck.
Faustus stepped forward anxiously, his gaze fixed sharply on the glass. He pointed with a trembling finger.
“Wait… Oslo… is that normal?”
A thick, glowing crack was eating its way rapidly and seemingly out of nowhere through the core of the mirror, as if the glass were being torn apart from the inside by an invisible fist.
Oslo stared at it, his breath halting.
“No… no… this… this is entirely new.”
CRACK!
The sound cut through the room like a lightning strike. The mirror did not implode inward but burst apart into thousands of sharp, flickering crystal shards that sprayed into the air like a deadly shower of stars. At the same time, every trace of warmth vanished from the forge. The flames in the ovens shrank and nearly died out, while ice-cold, sinister laughter began to echo through the walls.
Five dark, almost liquid dots shot through the room at superhuman speed and embedded themselves with dull thuds into the stone floor. Three of them burst into thick, tar-like puddles, out of which terrifying figures rose with disgusting slurping sounds. The remaining two struck the floor and sank into the cracks between the stones, leaving behind patches of darkness that pulsed faintly before fading from sight.
A harlequin-like demonic figure materialized from the sludge, rising with an exaggerated, mocking bow beneath its pointy hat. It laughed in a high, squeaky voice. Right next to it rose an eerie wooden doll whose joints cracked like dry wood. The doll ran its stiff wooden fingers through its hair, as if checking whether its appearance was still in order, while its clicking mouth produced an eerie, rhythmic ticking. On the other side stood a bat-like humanoid, its muscular wings spread wide as it unleashed a bloodcurdling, scraping cry that made their ears ring.
Oslo did not even look at the monsters. His gaze shot toward the group of Yerfs, who were huddled together in terror and shivering. His voice sounded like iron on iron, hard-edged, commanding, and absolutely inexorable.
“Code 1!” bellowed Oslo through the hall. “Bring all my most valuable treasures to safety immediately!”
The Yerfs, however, refused to take even a single step toward the exit. They grabbed no items, no weapons, no pieces of gold or valuables. Instead, within a fraction of a second, they understood precisely what Oslo’s words truly meant. Screaming in pure mortal terror, they fled, not outside but downward, hiding as deeply as possible in the darkest, most distant corners and crevices of the forge to protect one another and their master.
At the same time, the demonic harlequin stepped forward. With excruciating slowness, it pulled a glowing black torch from the folds of its tar-like cloak. It lifted the torch and looked at the group with hollow, cruel eyes in which fire danced.
“Ooh… Ahhh…” stammered the harlequin in a fake, exaggeratedly innocent child’s voice that echoed through the hall.
Suddenly, it threw its head back as if about to let out a massive sneeze. With a sharp, explosive burst, it blew a gigantic, scorching jet of flame straight toward them. The heat was so intense that the stones beneath their feet immediately turned white-hot.
Faustus reacted with the speed of light. He reached out his hand and opened a gaping tear in reality itself through sheer, concentrated willpower. The entire blazing jet of flame vanished without a sound into the endless void.
The smile on the harlequin’s face vanished in a fraction of a second. Its demonic eyes narrowed to pinpoints of pure, blazing irritation.
Beside it, the wooden doll began to spin its head slowly and eerily around its axis, its dead wooden eyes fixed on Faustus. Its clicking jaws beat out an incessant rhythm in the silence that followed the blast of heat.
Then the mirror shards began to tremble.
The air around the broken frame twisted, and the tear Faustus had opened widened into a vast, unstable rift. Through it, the purple-hued moonlight of the dead world spilled into the forge, carrying the scent of ozone, blood, and charred flesh. The boundary between the two worlds began to warp, dragging the surrounding space into a battlefield that seemed to glow beneath a sickly, purple moon.
And right there, on the edge of the blade, the world fell still.
In the midst of this madness, the wooden doll moved forward with an unnatural, jerky grace. Its hinges cracked like dry twigs beneath a heavy boot as its head spun a full three hundred and sixty degrees around its axis.
An icy, stuttering crack rolled from its clicking wooden jaws like laughter rising from the depths of a grave. The doll rose agonizingly slowly from the ground, its stiff arms moving in bizarre, angular arcs through the soot-filled air.
At that exact moment, Faustus froze upon a raised stone plateau at the edge of the rift. To his absolute horror, his own left arm began to move in perfect synchronization with the marionette, following the exact same cruel, precise motions.
“Ehh… what…?! What is happening to me?! Stay the hell away from me!” screamed Faustus as his arm involuntarily lashed out, as if dangling from invisible iron strings.
The doll laughed harder, producing a hollow, mechanical sound that echoed through the rocks. The very fabric of reality around it warped. Heavy steel anvils, glowing chains, and loose hammers broke free from their anchors and began wildly circling the planet-like doll around an invisible center. Within a fraction of a second, the wooden entity flashed everywhere and nowhere at once, defying the laws of gravity.
Suddenly, the grim laughter of the demonic harlequin cut through the racket. From the liquid, tar-like shadows on the floor, it materialized a grotesque, two-handed axe with a razor-sharp blade. With a brutal, murderous swing, it lashed out at Kaelid’s neck.
“Kaelid, look out!” yelled Lila.
With a quick, fluid hand movement, she made thick, twisting plant roots burst from the stone floor. The robust roots wrapped around Kaelid’s waist with a dull thud and yanked him aside with enormous force, just as the gigantic axe drove deep into the masonry with a shower of white, sizzling sparks.
DULL THUD!
A heavy, hollow crash echoed near the shattered crystal mirror, as if someone’s massive frame had just been transferred from the dead world.
Kaelid scrambled up onto his knees, his breath coming fast as he looked around in panic. He saw the harlequin. He saw the floating wooden doll. But the bat-like humanoid was nowhere to be seen. An ice-cold chill ran down his spine. Someone else had joined them whom he likewise could not perceive, a hunter lurking in the shadows.
Faustus, still fighting against the puppet force and struggling to control his limbs, snapped with pure frustration and roared at the top of his lungs.
“DO SOMETHING, DAMMIT!!”
Bonk clenched his fists. His Anting reacted immediately to the raw anger in his blood. The muscles beneath his skin swelled rapidly, his bones cracked loudly like brittle wood, and thick, dark hairs burst through his clothing. Half-transformed into a ferocious beast, he let loose a thunderous roar and leaped through the air like a wild animal, straight at the floating doll.
The harlequin saw the leap and tried to intercept Bonk, but a handful of thick, smoking pitch suddenly came hurtling out of the darkness. The black substance struck the harlequin squarely in its demonic face. With a sizzling sound, a large chunk of its skin scorched away.
“Eey… aren’t you forgetting to greet someone?” came the calm voice of Zax.
The harlequin shrieked in pain, grabbed its mutilated face, and, in a frenzy, blew a scorching jet of flame toward the young Bloodhound.
But Zax did not yield a single centimeter. He inhaled deeply and activated his Hellfire Anting until his eyes glowed orange. Then he vomited out a gigantic, infernal sea of fire directly against the demon’s flames. The intense heat of Zax’s hellfire devoured the harlequin’s attack and blew it to smithereens.
Zax grinned sideways at Kaelid.
“Haha, yeah, it l—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the bat-like humanoid struck.
BOOOOOOM!
The bat slammed onto the stone floor with a devastating crash. An enormous shockwave rippled through the forge, splintering the stone tiles. Kaelid, shielding Lila protectively, was thrown against the hard stone wall with her. Zax and Bonk flew meters backward, and even the wooden doll was hurled away, causing Faustus to break free from its tight grip and crash forward onto the ground.
The bat stood upright in the middle of the rising rubble. Its claws scraped against the stones. It turned its head, sniffed fleetingly at Lila, grabbed Kaelid by the collar, and shot straight up into the dark roof beams with a powerful, rattling wingbeat.
Oslo stood amid the chaos and stared at the devastation. His massive fists were clenched.
Mm… I have one option left. But if I deploy that, we will all die here. I can only hope they find a way out themselves…
Nearby lay Jack o Lent, thrown against the wall by the pressure wave. The headless knight laboriously scrambled to his feet and watched the wooden doll leap toward the groaning Faustus once more.
Jack did not hesitate for a second. With his black gloves, he caught the doll in midair, slammed it against the stone floor with brute force until it broke to pieces, gathered the wooden limbs together, and hurled them straight through the shattered mirror frame and into the rift beyond.
For one brief moment, the broken pieces lay scattered in the darkness beyond the mirror. Then thin, black threads crept across the wooden limbs, pulling them together as if the dead world itself were stitching the doll back into existence.
Oslo let out a sigh.
Phew… everything under con—
An ice-cold, excruciating laugh cut through the hall.
They looked up. Right in the middle of the broken mirror frame stood an eerie pair of twins. They stared at the group with crooked, lifeless gazes.
“Will you come and play with us…?” whispered the voices in perfect unison.
Their bodies morphed and stretched until they stood on either side of the broken frame. With an eerie sound, they pulled the edges of the rift apart like a wound in reality, forcing the passage between the two worlds wide open.
Dozens of fallen soldiers, the Forgotten Hollows, began crawling forward. Among them was the wooden doll, now fully repaired, turning toward Jack with a cruel grin.
And then their leader stepped forward.
An imposing figure stood before them in a long, dragging robe. Two faces occupied its head: one wishing and weeping, the other twisted into a furious grimace.
“Hahaha… the Rebellion is here! Death to the living!!”
BOOM! BOOM!
Two explosions struck right next to the leader. He looked down and saw the two cleanly severed halves of his bat-like warrior lying on the ground.
High in the beams, Kaelid emerged from the shadows, his sword still in hand. He had cut the bat-like warrior in two during their struggle above the forge, sending its remains crashing down beside the leader.
But the leader did not even flinch. A tentacle of living blood lashed out from his robe, seized Kaelid, and hurled him hard onto the ground beside Lila.
Faustus leaped forward, the gleaming Iðunn armor around his chest, and screamed at the advancing army.
“COME ON THEN! WE ARE STRONG ENOUGH!”
Beside him stood Zax, completely focused, and Bonk, who had transformed through his Anting into a ferocious half-beast with thick muscles, sharp fangs, and glowing eyes trembling with bloodlust. On the other side, Jack drew his black sword.
The harlequin lunged, but Jack intercepted it and scooped it out of the air. In a flash, the harlequin vanished, only to strike Jack down from a blind spot a moment later.
The wooden doll appeared before Jack.
“You… away with that weapon!”
With a snap of its fingers, the doll stripped Jack of his sword and struck the knight down onto his knees with his own weapon.
“You are nothing,” the doll said mockingly.
The leader laughed loudly.
“Take them all!”
The army surged forward. But right at that moment, a heavy pounding sounded upon the forge doors.
BAM!
The doors flew open. In the opening stood the crowd of ghost soldiers from the graveyard. Up front stood Joland, his head tucked beneath his arm.
“Um… the reinforcements have arrived!” called out Joland.
He brought his instrument to his mouth and began to play, immediately accompanied by Boras and Moza on drums and guitars. The ghost soldiers rushed forward to form a battle line.
Lila looked at one of the soldiers and nodded respectfully.
So it really worked…
The harlequin was surrounded, and its arm was chopped off in one clean blow. The leader reached into the mirror and pulled forth a terrifying sword made of living human parts that wailed incessantly.
In the melee, Kaelid noticed that Lila had a scratch above her eye. A wave of panic washed over him. He grabbed her and plunged with her into the stone floor, digging toward a safe cavity.
“Lila, it is not safe…” he whispered in the darkness.
Lila let out a soft laugh.
“You took the wrong one…”
Kaelid looked up in shock. The figure before him proved to be a fake. With a furious strike, he smashed the entity through the wall and forced his way back toward the surface.
Above ground, the real Lila called out desperately for Kaelid, watching as Jack knelt before the wooden doll.
“What now, Jack?! No head, no sword!” shouted the doll triumphantly as it lashed out.
The sword broke upon Jack’s back.
Jack looked down and spotted a forgotten pumpkin on the ground. He picked it up and placed it upon his empty neck. Almost immediately, it ignited in hellish orange fire.
“JACK O LENT, I AM!” he roared.
He grabbed the broken hilt of his sword, thrust it into his burning pumpkin head, and pulled it forth as a flaming blade.
But the leader laughed hard and stretched the shattered mirror’s gateway into a colossal opening that ripped apart the entire floor. The force of the rift dragged everyone down into the dead world.
When the dust settled, Faustus, Zax, and Bonk stood face to face with an immeasurable army of undead and a colossal undead dragon. The leader let his human skin scorch away completely, revealing a white skeleton, and lifted his screaming sword.
Faustus looked at Oslo.
“Uhh… what now?”
Oslo straightened, his bones cracking as he grew before their eyes into a stronger, younger version of himself. He rubbed his fist through the air and called out:
“Forbidden Arts: Koach Cozer!”
“So we have a few hours…” grinned Oslo.
The skeleton leader laughed and opened thousands of burning holes with his sword, from which even more soldiers emerged.
Kaelid rejoined the group and walked over to Jack, who stood there with his burning pumpkin head and flaming sword.
Jack looked around at the troops of Moza, Boras, and Joland waiting for him. He grabbed his horse Hurricane by the reins, leaped onto its back, and roared from the bottom of his heart:
“FOR THE FAMILY!”
The armies collided with a catastrophic crash that made the floor of the dead world shake to its foundations. Steel shrieked against steel, bones splintered beneath boots, and dark cries cut through the smoke.
Amid the chaos appeared the King of the Bloodhounds. His colossal stature radiated an ancient, blood-curdling authority. Deep in his upper back, seven imposing swords were clamped fast, and from his heavy belt dangled ancient stone jugs from which thick, black-red blood continuously poured.
With a raw, thunderous cry, he grabbed his waist.
“You dare touch my family?!” bellowed the King, his eyes blazing with fury.
With a wide sweep of his arm, he unleashed a gruesome Blood Manipulation. The streaming blood formed itself in a fraction of a second into gigantic, razor-sharp sickles of liquid steel that mowed down entire ranks of the undead army in a single breath.
At his side, Zax unleashed a hellish inferno.
“Try putting this out, a bunch of corpses!” shouted Zax, sweeping his hand across the ground.
His Hellfire Anting ignited in a blind flurry of orange and black flames. He spat out a sea of hellfire that instantly melted the advancing skeletons into boiling mud.
Nearby, Bonk charged through the lines like an unstoppable natural phenomenon. His Anting had transformed his body into a ferocious half-beast. His jaws stretched wide in a bloodthirsty grin, his muscles bulged with brute force, and with wildly swinging claws, he grabbed a gigantic undead monster and tore it in two with a cracking sound.
“Come on, all at once! I’m hungry!” roared Bonk, hurling the corpse toward the next enemy.
Deep beneath the surface of the battlefield, Kaelid swam through the earth as if it were water. His Stone Anting made the rocks flow before him and close behind him. With his sword held like a figurehead, he shot like a vicious shark through the depths, breaking open enemy formations from below whenever he emerged.
Lila… I’m coming!
he called inwardly, diving back into a whirlwind of breaking stone.
The battle reached its ultimate boiling point at a terrifying pace. The skeleton leader watched in horror as his endless legion was reduced to a helpless minority by the fury of the living and the ghosts.
“Impossible… IMPOSSIBLE?!” shrieked the skeleton leader, his dual face twisted in pure madness. “If I cannot win, then nothing remains of anyone!”
In a desperate, selfish spasm, he thrust his legs and sword upward and caused half of his remaining troops to explode through a dark incantation.
KABOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM!
A series of devastating chain reactions ripped the battlefield apart. The resulting shockwave struck so hard that Faustus and the giant Oslo, still fighting fiercely, were blown off their feet and hurled back into the forge through a sudden magical tear.
The skeleton leader laughed shrilly, his bones rattling with triumph.
“Hahaha! The strongest are gone! Now you are fair game!”
In a spine-chilling movement, he dived toward the remains of the defeated undead dragon. With disgusting, ravenous haste, he grabbed the smoking black wings and broken skull, fusing himself with them in the most gruesome, visceral way possible. Bones broke and flesh stretched and readjusted until a horrific, colossal draconic skeleton emerged from the smoke.
With the speed of light and an ear-splitting screech, the monster lunged straight at Jack o Lent, intending to devour him in a single bite.
But before its jaws could snap shut, Bonk shot forward with a desperate, super-strong leap straight through the air.
“No, I don’t think so!” roared the beast, throwing himself directly into the monster’s path and absorbing the entire devastating blow of the draconic entity squarely upon his unprotected back.
The gigantic draconic beast struck Bonk’s robust back with tremendous force, but the beastly boy did not flinch an inch. He locked his thick muscles in place, receiving the devastating blow like an indestructible wall without making a sound. Not a drop of blood flowed. At most, a deep, grim grin spread across his beastly jaws.
Before the monstrosity could recover, the King of the Bloodhounds stepped forward with heavy, thunderous strides. His presence filled the entire space. With a single, powerful swipe of his massive claws, he scooped the draconic entity off the ground and hurled it hundreds of meters into the dark sky.
The draconic entity uttered a deafening, bone-chilling screech that pierced straight through marrow and bone. Midair, the monstrosity twisted its wings and dived back down with piercing speed, straight toward the King.
But the King merely laughed thinly.
With an explosive swing of his arms, he hurled all seven giant swords wedged into his upper back into the air simultaneously. Almost immediately afterward, he unleashed his Blood Manipulation in full glory. Thick, pulsing tentacles of living crimson blood shot upward from the broken stone jugs at his belt. The blood tentacles seized the seven floating blades midair and began directing them at incredible speed.
What followed was a horrific, masterful combat choreography in the air. The seven blades cut through the darkness like flashing lightning bolts. They chopped, sliced, and cleaved into the draconic entity from every conceivable angle. The monstrosity shrieked one last time before being completely hacked to pieces beneath the merciless storm of steel and blood. The loose chunks melted away into nothingness as they fell.
Kaelid stared wide-eyed at the spectacular slaughter, clenched his fists, and cheered at the top of his lungs.
“YES! He’s dead! It’s over!!”
Jack o Lent turned calmly toward Zax. His burning pumpkin head glowed softly as he extended his heavy black gauntlet. Zax firmly grabbed the hand, and they shook vigorously.
“This… this I truly never could have accomplished without you,” said Jack, the words carrying deep, sincere weight in his hollow voice.
Zax burst into a loud, hearty laugh and clapped Jack amicably on the shoulder.
“Of course you could, man! What are you talking about?! You are JACK O LENT… remember that well for next time!”
At that moment, the King of the Bloodhounds approached with calm, dignified strides. The man’s aura was so overwhelming that everyone reacted instantly. Kaelid, Zax, Bonk, and Jack dropped to one knee as if obeying an instinctive command, their heads bowed in deep respect for the legendary ruler.
The King stood before them, looked at the kneeling boys, and suddenly burst into a thunderous, warm laugh.
“Haha! Stand up, you bunch of fools!” roared the King amicably.
He looked specifically at Zax and Bonk, his gaze softening.
“And especially you two… My god, you look immensely like your mother. Do give her my absolute warmest regards.”
The King nodded to them with deep respect, turned, and walked away with calm strides, vanishing into the dark mists of the dead world.
Jack looked around, discovered the rapidly closing opening of the crystal mirror, and called out urgently:
“Quick! It is closing now! We are just in time!!”
Kaelid did not hesitate for a second. He grabbed Zax and Bonk firmly by their shoulders and leaped with a powerful push straight toward the shrinking fissure. Just before breaking through the flash of light, they glanced back over their shoulders and nodded one last time in gratitude to Jack o Lent and the figure of the King standing majestically in the distance.
With a loud WOOSH, they flew through the crack in reality and slammed safely down onto the stone floor of the forge, right before the feet of Lila, Oslo, and Faustus.
Lila had been pacing back and forth in panic for minutes. She walked from side to side, rubbing her fingers through her hair, the stress clearly visible on her face.
“It better be okay with my Kael… It just has to be okay… Better for everyone here that he makes it back in one piece…” she muttered over and over to herself.
Oslo, battered and exhausted, stared with gigantic eyes at Faustus.
“Uhh… it is gonna be fine with them, right, Faustus…?”
Faustus, equally battered from the fight, straightened his back and looked at Oslo with large, nervous eyes.
“Oh… yeah, yeah, of course! He will be here any second, no doubt about it…”
At that precise moment, the trio popped out of the light. Oslo and Faustus jerked around and called out almost simultaneously in pure relief.
“Look! There they are already!”
Kaelid and Lila rushed into each other’s arms. They held each other so tightly that it seemed as if the world around them could collapse, talking over one another in an agitated, excited state.
“You’re in one piece! Oh my god, Kael, I thought for a second you’d stay in there!” cried Lila, inspecting his face for injuries.
Kaelid breathed out in relief and hugged her tighter.
“I told you I’d come back! Bringing the fake along was a mistake, but I’ll never leave you alone in there!”
When the initial emotions had settled, they turned toward the giant and Faustus. Kaelid looked around, deeply impressed by the devastation in the workshop.
“But wow… what on earth was all this…?”
Oslo sat heavily on a wooden crate, breathing hard and completely drained.
“Yeah… this was seriously intense. There is a bizarre amount I simply don’t know about what goes on over there on the other side…”
Faustus leaned against his anvil, his Iðunn armor dull with soot.
“Seriously ridiculously strong people over there… Unreal.”
A brief silence fell over the forge until Lila suddenly clapped her hands enthusiastically, a sparkle in her eyes.
“So… next year again?!”
Kaelid burst out laughing.
“Pfft, you bet!”
Zax grinned broadly.
“Absolutely, I’m in!”
Bonk nodded with a big, beastly grin.
“One hundred percent!”
Even Oslo and Faustus could not suppress tired smiles and chimed in with agreeing nods.
Suddenly, a small, white Yerf popped up from behind a smashed stone crate. The creature looked overjoyed to see that its master was still alive. The Yerf made quick, cheerful gestures toward the shadows and called out:
“Ooo-ma-ya!”
Almost immediately afterward, dozens of small Yerfs came crawling out of the dark corners, crevices, and cupboards, happily hopping around and babbling.
Oslo looked affectionately at the horde of little creatures and raised his hand tiredly.
“Sorry, children… I, too, am completely wrecked today…”
Then two dull knocks sounded upon the door, causing them all to stare stiffly toward the exit.
Oslo stepped in front of the Yerfs, but then they saw clearly who was standing there.
“Wait… Leonardo?!”
Everyone stared wide-eyed toward the doorway, where they got a better view of Leonardo, who was completely dressed up, with a pumpkin on his head and eyes carved into it.
“WAAAHHHH …!!!”
But Leonardo looked ahead and saw how everyone blankly stared at him with their heads tilted. He took off his pumpkin and sighed deeply.
“Come on, children, even you, Oslo… it is All Hallows,” he said, making air quotes. “ALL HALLOWS EVE… as the Inquisitors want it… but anyway, the party is for everyone…”
Then he flashed next to Oslo.
“Come, Oslo, buddy…”
He grabbed Kaelid by the arm.
“Enjoy it for a little bit… I think if you kids experience anything of the Hallows at all, you can surely see the art in it… but anyway…”
He flashed back to the doorway.
“Happy Hallows, everyone… and tell the folks at home, too… we have truly come a long way… you have truly come a long way, completed entire journeys… enjoy yourselves for once.”
Kaelid looked at Lila, who signaled that Leonardo did not mean it in a bad way. Kaelid looked at Bonk and Zax, who rolled their eyes at him. Then everyone immediately turned back toward Leonardo.
“Happy Hallows, Leonardo… have a good one…”
While the quiet slowly seemed to return to the ruins of the forge, Faustus suddenly stiffened. A sudden realization struck him like a bolt from the blue.
“Wait a minute…” Faustus said slowly, looking around at everyone. “Where on earth has Silarias been this whole time?!”
Kaelid looked from Oslo to Faustus, his gaze suddenly sharp and charged with deep seriousness.
“Yeah… he really should be awake by now… But what he is doing right now… or what is going through his head at this very moment…”
And upon that unanswered, leaden question, silence lingered in the forge.