Limbo — ????

  Isaac hit the ground hard inside something like a cave. Dust rolled off his shoulders as he pushed up on one knee.

  He looked up.

  A jagged hole hung far above—too far—like someone had ripped the ceiling open with bare hands.

  The golden tether was still there… until he let it slip through his fingers.

  It faded.

  Not cut. Not snapped. Just… gone. Like the dark swallowed it on purpose.

  Isaac swallowed and wiped grit from his mouth.

  “Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s do this.”

  He moved into a narrow corridor. The walls pressed close, forcing him sideways in spots. His cape scraped stone. The air tasted like old metal.

  One more squeeze—

  He stepped out.

  And his brain almost stalled.

  The “sky” wasn’t a sky.

  Broken planets drifted across the horizon like shattered bones. Huge pieces hung in place, cracked open, leaking faint light from inside. Far away, something screamed—long, thin, endless—until it mixed with dozens of other screams and became the background.

  Strange shapes floated between the ruins: chunks of ships, twisted frames, wheels that spun without touching anything… and bodies.

  Not falling. Just drifting.

  Isaac’s breath went shallow.

  “What the hell…”

  A wet scrape echoed behind him.

  He froze.

  He slid into the shadow of a broken pillar and held still.

  Something crawled past the opening—low, fast, wrong. A creature with one huge eye stretched across its face, teeth like broken glass. It sniffed the air, dragging claws through dust that wasn’t really dust.

  Isaac didn’t move.

  More shapes followed it, skittering and clicking like insects made of muscle.

  Then—

  A hand clamped around him from behind.

  Iron pressure.

  He barely had time to turn his head before a thick, humanoid one-eyed thing leaned close, saliva stretching between its teeth.

  “Food…”

  Isaac’s eyes flashed.

  “Not today.”

  He drove an elbow back, twisted, and broke the grip with brute force. His fingers shot up, closing around the creature’s throat.

  He threw it.

  It flew in an arc—then touched something higher in the air and vanished in a silent, instant burn. No ash. No pieces. Just erased.

  Isaac stared, unsettled.

  The skittering exploded around him.

  They rushed.

  Blue light snapped into his eyes.

  Thin lasers cut clean lines through the swarm—fast, controlled. Bodies dropped, split, and dissolved into pale smoke that didn’t even smell like blood.

  But more came.

  Too many.

  Isaac backed up, then pushed off the ground and flew—low.

  He stayed under that invisible line in the air, feeling it like a ceiling he couldn’t touch. Every time he rose even a little, the hair on his arms lifted, warning him.

  He flew forward anyway, weaving around floating debris, breathing hard.

  “Okay… okay… find the kid. Fast.”

  The landscape shifted.

  The screams faded into a duller, heavier silence.

  Ahead—an area that didn’t look like ruin.

  A village.

  Or what was left of one.

  Broken huts. Splintered fences. Streets made of cracked stone. Everything gray, like the place had been drained.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  And walking through it…

  People.

  Not alive. Not dead.

  They looked like souls—white, pale, almost glowing from inside. Some wore old armor. Some wore robes. Some wore nothing but rags. They moved slow, eyes empty, like sleepwalking.

  Isaac dropped to the ground and approached carefully.

  He passed an elf with hollow cheeks, staring at the sky like it could answer. A bestial with a snapped horn shuffled by, dragging one foot like it forgot how legs worked.

  Then Isaac saw it—

  A human.

  Shoulders slumped. Face blank. Head tilted up, mouth slightly open like he was still waiting for something to fall.

  Isaac’s throat tightened.

  “Humans are here too…?”

  He took one step closer.

  “Hey. Can you—”

  A hand yanked him sideways.

  Hard.

  He was pulled into a ruined cabin so fast his shoulder slammed wood. A palm covered his mouth.

  Isaac reacted on instinct.

  He grabbed the wrist, twisted, and hurled the attacker across the room—

  The figure hit a broken wall, rolled, and rose without panic.

  Isaac backed up, eyes glowing, ready to cut.

  Then a familiar voice hit him like a punch to the chest.

  “Still strong,” the voice said, calm… almost amused. “My son.”

  Isaac froze.

  His glow faltered.

  He stared.

  A man stood there made of pale light—white, lucid, shaped like a soul but solid enough to cast a faint shadow. He brushed dust off his shoulder like it mattered.

  He smiled.

  Isaac’s mouth went dry.

  “…Dad?”

  King Goda stepped forward, smiling wider, eyes warm in a place that had no warmth.

  “Hello, my son.”

  Isaac stumbled toward him like his body moved before his mind could argue. He grabbed Goda’s shoulders—half expecting his hands to pass through.

  They didn’t.

  Goda laughed, deep and real, and pulled him into a hard embrace.

  “That’s it,” he said, squeezing. “It’s good to see you.”

  Isaac’s chest shook. He didn’t even notice he was breathing too fast.

  He held on like if he let go, it would disappear.

  Goda eased back, still smiling. He lifted Isaac’s face with both hands and kissed his forehead—slow, steady, like an old habit.

  They looked at each other.

  Isaac’s eyes burned.

  Goda’s smile softened.

  “Look at you,” Goda said quietly. “You really came down here.”

  Ruined Shack — (some time later)

  Isaac and the King sat at a rough table, the wood warped like it had been wet a thousand times. Outside the cracked boards, distant screams rolled through the dark like wind.

  Goda leaned forward, lowering his voice.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, son… but I had to drain your strength first. If I didn’t, they would’ve found you.”

  Isaac blinked. “They?”

  “The Walkers.”

  Goda stood and looked through a thin gap in the wall, watching the shadows move far off.

  Isaac kept his voice low too. “Walkers… what are they?”

  “Two things that roam Limbo hunting anything careless.” Goda’s mouth twisted. “They steal. They torment. They wear rings on their fingers—trophies—each one giving them some strange ability. No one knows all of them. So you treat them like poison.”

  He stepped away from the crack and sat again, eyes sharp.

  “Anyway…” Goda’s tone softened a little. “Why are you here? How’s Olympia… and your sister?”

  Isaac stood and rested a hand on his father’s shoulder.

  “She’s okay. Selene still misses you.”

  Goda’s eyes flickered—warm, then quickly hidden.

  “My little girl…” He let out a breath. “I miss her too.”

  Isaac sat back down, quieter now.

  “And you… why are you here? You told me there’s a place for war-elves. A place of rest.”

  Goda nodded once. “There is.”

  Then his gaze dropped.

  “But I’m searching.”

  “Searching…?”

  “My wife.” Goda stared at the table like the grain could answer him. “Limbo is endless, son. There are parts of it even I don’t understand… but she’s somewhere here. I know it.”

  Isaac watched him carefully. Goda rarely sounded unsure. When he did, it meant the wound was deep.

  “I just want to rest beside the woman I loved my whole life.” Goda’s jaw tightened. “The woman I lost because of… enough.”

  Isaac lowered his eyes.

  “I understand.” He hesitated, then asked it anyway. “Are you sure she’s still here?”

  “I am.” Goda nodded. “And people say she might be in this region. The same region where I found you.”

  Isaac leaned back, exhaling through his nose.

  “…I’m looking for someone too. Yuno’s son.”

  That made Goda’s expression shift.

  “She told you about him?” A small, bitter smile. “So she sent you to find the cause.”

  Isaac frowned. “You knew about him?”

  “Of course. Back then, she searched every kingdom for anything that could lead her to him.” Goda’s smile faded. “And then he turned up dead.”

  Isaac’s voice dropped. “She told me he’s half High Elf. Son of a general.”

  Goda nodded slowly.

  “An elite general under Sovereign Fall.” He paused, like the name tasted bad. “Elevan. Good soldier. I met him when he was younger.”

  Isaac stayed silent, listening.

  “From what I know… during a battle near Valoon, he met her. They fell for each other.” Goda’s eyes hardened. “A child was born—hybrid. Hidden for a long time.”

  Isaac’s brow tightened. “Because Fall hates dragons…”

  “Exactly.” Goda leaned back. “To dragons, the boy wasn’t ‘pure’—so they treated him like a mistake. To High Elves, he carried dragon blood—so they treated him like a stain. He belonged nowhere.”

  Isaac swallowed, jaw set.

  “And then the father vanished.” Goda’s voice turned colder. “No trail. No body. Just gone. The province searched, nothing. Like he never existed.”

  Isaac didn’t interrupt.

  “The boy grew up chasing that shadow.” Goda tapped the table once, soft. “Then one day… he heard his father had left a message, calling him to Ironkeep.”

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “A message… after he disappeared?”

  Goda’s stare held. “That’s the part that reeks.”

  Isaac went still. “So it wasn’t his father.”

  “Most likely a hook.” Goda’s voice stayed flat. “Someone wanted him to go.”

  Isaac’s hands clenched.

  “He went.” Goda exhaled. “And what came back… was what you heard. Torn apart.”

  Isaac’s voice came out rougher than he meant. “But why did he end up in Limbo? I thought dragons have their own afterlife.”

  Goda nodded once. “They do.”

  He pointed slightly downward, not to the hole, but to the space between worlds itself.

  “Limbo is the passage. Not an afterlife—more like the corridor between them.” Goda’s eyes narrowed. “And that boy got rejected on both sides. Dragons didn’t claim him. High Elves didn’t claim him. So he drifted here… with no door to walk through.”

  Isaac stared for a long beat, anger slowly replacing shock.

  “I need to find him.” He looked up. “Do you know where he is?”

  “I do.” Goda didn’t hesitate. “Near Oblivion.”

  Isaac’s stomach dropped. “Near the hole?”

  “Yes.”

  Isaac sat forward hard. “Why? …He wants to erase himself?”

  Goda stood, face serious now.

  “In Limbo there’s a story people cling to when they can’t take it anymore.” He looked Isaac dead in the eye. “They call the hole a path to a valley.”

  Isaac’s voice was quiet. “A valley…?”

  “‘Infinite Life.’” Goda’s mouth twisted again. “A place with no pain. No grief. A clean reset.”

  Isaac looked sick.

  “Most of them jump believing it.” Goda’s voice lowered. “And they get erased from everything. Like they never breathed.”

  He let the silence sit between them for a moment.

  “Is the valley real?” Goda shook his head once. “I don’t know, son.”

  Isaac stood. His decision was already on his face.

  “Then I go now. Before he does something stupid.”

  Goda nodded immediately. “I’m coming.”

  Isaac turned fast. “What? No—Dad.”

  Goda waved him off like Isaac was still twelve.

  “Shut up.” A rough grin. “Let your old man help you.”

  He opened the shack door.

  Cold dark air poured in.

  Goda stepped out first.

  Isaac followed, jaw tight, eyes locked forward.