Path of the Extra

“Haa… haa…”

Azriel was tired.

Exhausted.

He ran.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

If he stopped…

Everything would be for naught.

He would die.

And have to redo everything.

Which he desperately didn’t want to do.

The heat was torture.

The black dunes stretched endlessly, littered with bones.

The invisible sun, hiding behind the blinking stars, felt like molten lava on his skin.

The more he pressed forward,

the worse the heat became.

And…

He was exposed.

Watched.

Eyes were everywhere.

Yet none dared approach.

They knew that to do so would mean death.

He couldn’t see any of them either.

Azriel was not their prey.

No.

Azriel was its prey.

The Cradler.

He was wrong.

The Cradler didn’t care about the fire.

It didn’t fight other void creatures, nor did it get distracted.

It wanted only one thing.

Azriel.

Nothing else mattered.

“Damn it all…!”

Azriel cursed.

His heart pounded furiously in his chest.

No matter how much his legs ached, he kept running.

Because…

The Cradler was behind him.

The humming followed him, soft and relentless.

It drifted on the air, gentle at first, like a lullaby meant to soothe.

But each note swelled, rising above the thud of his footsteps, sweet yet suffocating.

The hum grew clearer, more tender, as if it were calling him back—beckoning him to stop, to surrender.

It was too soft, too kind.

And the closer it came, the heavier it felt, pressing against his mind, sinking into his bones, urging him to slow down.

“Ah gods, what have I gotten myself into!?”

He glanced back.

Azriel risked a glance—and instantly regretted it.

“…!”

His blood ran cold.

The Cradler glided over the black sand, its skeletal form barely grazing the ground.

Long, emaciated arms cradled a swaddled bundle close to its hollow chest, while its head, too large for its fragile body, lolled slightly to the side.

Pale skin stretched tight over sharp bones glowed faintly in the dark, like a sickly ghost under a dying moon.

Its face was shrouded in shadow, yet the outlines of deep, hollow eye sockets locked onto him with unrelenting focus.

The creature’s too-wide mouth quivered in a twisted smile, humming its warped lullaby as if to soothe a child—only now, it was chasing him, and the distance between them was closing.

Despite its slow, drifting movement, the Cradler seemed to be everywhere at once, its humming filling the air, making the very sand beneath him feel heavier.

The swaddled bundle in its arms shifted, as if something within was alive, and for a brief, horrifying moment, he imagined that whatever lay inside was watching him too.

“Time is ticking, Azriel… No time to look back. You better hurry!”

“What the—? Argh!?”

Surprised by the sudden voice beside him, Azriel stumbled through the sand.

Chills ran down his spine, but he quickly regained his footing and sprinted onward.

His startled eyes darted in front of him.

There stood a person.

He was just… there.

Yet every time Azriel blinked,

he appeared further away.

Smiling.

“As if my day couldn’t get any worse…”

Azriel scowled, pushing himself to run even faster.

Leo laughed lightly.

Azriel felt dizzy at how Leo kept appearing without moving.

“We haven’t seen each other in weeks, and this is the first thing you say? How rude.”

Ignoring him, Azriel noticed the humming growing fainter.

‘Did it lose me?’

Gritting his teeth, he glanced back.

The Cradler wasn’t there anymore.

His legs began to numb, and with no other choice, he ran toward a massive rock.

He couldn’t stop in time, tripping and collapsing onto his back.

“Hooo… hooo…”

He struggled to catch his breath, staring up at the blinking stars, his view suddenly blocked by Leo’s head, which loomed above him, smiling.

“Should you really be resting here? You don’t have much time left. The attack will happen any moment.”

Azriel’s face hardened.

“You must have had a lot of fun looking through my memories.”

Leo nodded.

“Indeed. This time, I made sure to look at everything—past and present. Seriously, you’re an interesting individual, unlike anyone I’ve encountered.”

Leo glanced at Azriel’s arm.

“Even after all this time, I couldn’t figure out what that tattoo of yours means… No,” he shook his head, frustration seeping into his voice.

“I did figure it out; it’s better to say I’ve forgotten. I can’t seem to keep it in my mind… how annoying.”

Azriel stared at him wearily as Leo’s eyes locked with his.

“Still, I didn’t think you would quietly let me sift through all your memories.”

A dry laugh escaped Azriel’s lips.

“Why bother? Your life is temporary. You miscalculated my strength. It’s not like I needed to do anything, even though if I had, it would have been too difficult.”

Leo’s smile faded, replaced by a somber expression.

“Indeed. But who could blame me? I barely had enough time back then to implant this inferior version of myself in your mind because of that Solomon and had to run away. You really piqued my curiosity, you know? I devoured so many soldiers back in Europe, yet they were all so… boring. I thought you were just another lost kid.”

“…”

“But who would have thought? You were indeed lost—lost from your world and ended up here, in a supposed world from a book. Isn’t that funny? That we’re all just a bunch of letters brought to life in your eyes?”

Leo crouched down, his face inches from Azriel’s, his smile darkening.

“You are so weak… I could have killed you right then and there. Just showing your little sister from that world of yours was enough to break you. Ah, but that wouldn’t be any fun, would it? I was curious about what more I could learn from you… what more you had to offer. I’m glad this version of mine was enough to at least read your memories.”

‘…He will retain all his memories from this version…’

This was bad.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Azriel was beginning to regain his energy but stayed down, curious.

He still didn’t hear the Cradler’s humming, meaning he was safe… for now.

“I’ll see how this unfolds. Will you fail? Succeed? After that… I will be gone. This version of me, at least.”

“…”

Suddenly, Leo’s hand reached for Azriel’s neck, and Azriel didn’t move.

Leo’s hand passed through him, leaving a cold emptiness.

“…I will come for you. The real me. You’ve taught me a lot, Azriel—shown me things I didn’t think were possible. For that, you will be my ultimate meal.”

A shudder ran down Azriel’s spine.

Alarm bells rang in his head.

His face turned grim.

Every part of him screamed that…

he had created something that should not exist.

Leo stood, arms spread wide, a maniacal grin stretching across his face.

“The boy who does not belong in this world! There will be no greater head to feast upon than yours!”

“Fucking psychopath…”

Azriel gritted his teeth, standing up.

He was done listening.

At that moment, the humming returned from behind him, worsening his mood with every passing second.

So he started running again.

“Remember, Azriel. You are mine alone—body and mind. No one else will take your life except me… After all, you and I are meant to be one.”

*****

What felt like hours of running, enduring the relentless humming while the Cradler chased him, finally led Azriel to his destination.

Perhaps it was best that the Cradler was behind him—because no one else dared approach.

Before him stood an ancient circular platform, reminiscent of the first floor where the Dark King resided.

“…I wonder who made such a thing.”

Leo’s voice echoed, but Azriel ignored the remark, taking a deep breath.

“Hooo…”

‘Here goes nothing…’

He stepped forward.

The moment he did, the platform’s ancient runes flared to life, glowing as the ground split open, revealing a gaping maw—a massive staircase spiraling downward.

‘Fuck, it’s almost here!’

Without hesitation, Azriel ran down as fast as he could.

Pain shot through his feet, screaming in agony, yet he pressed on.

He was close.

Everything ahead was cloaked in darkness, the humming growing nearer, more insistent.

Azriel’s heart raced, threatening to burst from his chest.

When he finally reached the last step, a burst of light illuminated the chamber.

Torches lining the walls flared to life, revealing what looked like an abandoned tunnel, long forgotten by time.

He bit his lip, slowing down just a bit.

The Cradler was already starting to descend the stairs.

‘Ah, shit! Come on!’

He moved with a desperate pace that was neither walking nor running.

He had to be careful here.

The possibility of void creatures lurking in the shadows was guaranteed, whether they feared the Cradler or not—he had no way of knowing.

He felt trapped.

No matter where he went now, nowhere was safe.

At least the tunnel was dry.

The flickering torches offered little illumination, casting long, eerie shadows that danced on the walls.

It felt like he was walking blindfolded.

‘I’m a psychopath, just like this bastard for doing this…!’

In a way, it was slightly comforting having Leo next to him—thankfully, he was silent.

The thought of having to listen to his voice again would have driven Azriel mad.

The tunnel was wide enough for two streets to be built within, making it feel both grand and suffocating.

Azriel didn’t dare look back.

The humming maintained a steady pace, neither getting closer nor further away, which meant one thing:

the Cradler was just as cautious as he was.

He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.

The tunnel stretched endlessly, warping his perception, distorting time as he walked—and kept walking—for what seemed like hours.

He lost count after ten thousand footsteps.

He wasn’t alone in the dark.

He felt the gazes of what felt like thousands of void creatures piercing through the shadows.

Yet, once again, none approached.

But…

This time, it felt different.

The humming gnawed at him, tightening around his mind like a vice, urging him to stop, to rest, to surrender.

But he didn’t.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, the tunnel came to an end.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Azriel smiled—a strained, almost desperate smile.

He stopped.

The humming grew closer.

But it was okay.

Because ahead of him lay something far more dreadful.