The Pit

Kindergarten

Xisuma pov

I managed to take care of my needs-showering, eating, going through the motions of daily life. But sleep... sleep was difficult. Every time I closed my eyes, the nightmares returned. They were relentless, dragging me back into the pit, into the clanging of chains and the overwhelming weight of his gaze. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, the scenes would replay in vivid, horrifying detail.

My admin duties piled up, and I tried to keep up with them, staying focused, staying grounded. But it was getting harder. Each day bled into the next, and I was growing so very tired. The constant barrage of nightmare after nightmare was awful, and no amount of routine could shake the feeling that I was unraveling.

In the quiet moments, when the noise and colors of the server faded, the memories crept back in-the darkness of the arena, the wild one's defeat, and most of all, him. His presence lingered, even when I was awake. It was like a shadow clinging to the edge of my thoughts, never letting me forget.

The exhaustion was becoming unbearable. Every night was a battle, not just against the nightmares, but against the creeping sense of dread that hung over me like a cloud. I could feel myself slipping, inch by inch, the lines between the pit and reality blurring more with each passing day.

Now, I expected to find any information on the Watchers and what the pit actually was, but it all seemed to lead to dead ends. The more I searched, the more confusing it became. I had assumed the pit was some kind of punishment, a place where you were sent if you had done something wrong. But there was so little to go on, and what little information I could piece together was fragmented at best.

I combed through records, archives, and whispers-anything that might offer some clue-but nothing added up. There was no official documentation about the pit, nothing that said why people were sent there or who decided who should go. It was as if the pit existed outside of the server's rules, beyond any authority I could comprehend. That thought unsettled me.

The Watchers, too, were elusive. I knew they were involved somehow, but how deeply? Their presence felt omnipresent, like they were watching everything-always observing but never intervening, except in ways that sent a chill down my spine. The pit, the fights, the endless nightmare-it all seemed connected to them. But why? What purpose did it serve?

The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Was the pit some form of twisted justice, or was it something else entirely? And why had I been sent there, or dragged into it in the first place? These questions gnawed at me, leaving me restless and more determined to find answers. But the harder I looked, the more I felt like I was being watched, even when I was alone. The weight of their gaze, always lingering, always judging.

It felt like I was missing something-some key piece that would make it all make sense. But no matter how hard I tried, the Watchers and the pit remained shrouded in mystery, taunting me with their silence.

The next time the magic pulled me back into that chaotic void of color and sound, I felt more prepared. This time, I knew where to go. I made it through the eerie, black-and-white forest faster than before, the soundless trees looming over me, their twisted branches creating ominous shadows. My footsteps were silent, the world muted around me, but my mind was racing. I knew where this was leading, and the pit was waiting.

When I finally reached the edge of the pit, my heart sank. There, in the arena, stood my brother, Xavier. He already looked beaten-bruised, broken, and exhausted. His face was etched with pain and determination, but the weariness in his posture was undeniable. He was barely standing. And across from him, his opponent was even more terrifying.

Xelqua.

The sight of him made my heart lodge in my throat. Xelqua stood there, calm and collected as always, his figure cloaked in that ethereal glow, as if the fight meant nothing to him. The same symbol resembling the Watcher emblem hovered faintly above his head, marking him as something otherworldly, something far beyond the rest of us. His wings shimmered with that angelic light, but there was nothing divine about the situation. It felt like watching a predator stalk its prey, and my brother was caught in the middle.