Myles sat in stunned silence as Nylar's words washed over him. The revelations were almost too much to bear. He had gone from a teenager with extraordinary powers to being thrust into a world of secret organizations, strange powers, and a nefarious plot to merge the Ethereal plane with reality.
"I can't believe all of this," Myles finally managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of anger, disbelief, and confusion. "You kept all of this from me for years, suppressed my abilities, and let Denumbit run amok with his plan. And now, you want me to promise to continue your legacy?"
Nylar's expression remained one of remorse, his eyes downcast. "Myles, I understand how this must feel. I wish there had been another way, but we were trapped in a web of deceit, and we couldn't risk exposing you or our operation. I had hoped that you could lead a normal life, but the world had other plans."
Myles clenched his fists, trying to process the enormity of the situation. "So, what do we do now? Denumbit has gained access to the Ethereal plane, and only God knows what his next plans are, it's been too long and all we've done is sitting docks. It seems like the world is on the brink of catastrophe, and we're outmatched."
Nylar nodded. "You're right; it's a dire situation. But we, we have hope Myles, we have the potential to make a difference. Our organization and your powers might be gone but there's still HOPE, Why, because that's all we got right now."
"We're mobilizing ourselves daily to the surface to gather whatever information and resources we can, anything to help us get an upper hand in this fight. You're in no shape to tag along now, but, whenever you get better, if you ever want to help, there's always an spot for you.
Myles took a deep breath, his anger slowly giving way to determination. "I don't know if I can ever fully trust you again, Nylar, but I can't ignore the responsibility that is upon me. I'll finish what we started, not for you, but for the world that's teetering on the edge of destruction."
Nylar's expression softened, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Myles. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I hope that together, we can put an end to Denumbit's plan and save what's left of humanity."
And with that, Myles made a solemn promise to carry on the legacy of the secret organization, to stand up against the looming forces that threatened to end the world as they knew it.
The weight of his destiny pressed heavily upon him, but he was determined to face it head-on, for the sake of the world and all those who had been betrayed and lost in the shadows.
A couple of days later, Myles was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. It had been a couple of weeks since he had awoken from a coma, finding himself stripped of the incredible powers he had once possessed.
The doctors who tended to him had been baffled, and the prognosis was bleak. He was no longer the man who could leap over buildings and shatter concrete walls with a punch.
His friend, Nylar, had been visiting him daily, his worried eyes betraying his concern. Today was different, though. He walked into his room with a determined look on his face, carrying a small, worn leather-bound journal.
"Myles," He began, his voice trembling slightly, " you need to see this."
Myles turned his head to look at him, his eyes still reflecting the sadness and frustration that had become a constant companion. "What is it, Nylar?"
Nylar hurriedly took a seat beside the bed and placed the journal on his lap, opening it to a page that had been bookmarked. Myles didn't recognized the journal, and couldn't place a thought on whether he had come across it before.
"Where did you get this?" Myles questioned, looking up and Nylar.
"It belonged to one of our former companion, Martha." Nylar replied. Without hesitation, he cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
"Long ago in the past, before the cataclysmic event reshaped the Earth, a small rock fragment was discovered by a lone explorer in the desolate wastelands. This fragment, was known as the "The Shard".
Myles blinked with a distant expression as a medley of emotions brewed in his eyes at the sound of Nylar's voice.
"This 'Shard' held the power to summon an being known as 'X'yrax' (Eks-ai-raks). The name, an ancient language that translates loosely into 'The one beyond the void."
"X'kyrax, was an amorphous entity, that was capable of forming a symbiotic bond with its host if deemed worthy upon contact with the Shard. The first ever noted host, was a courageous archaeologist named Dr. Elara Quinn."
"She became the first known recipient of the shard's extraordinary powers, the shard granting her the ability to manipulate matter at the atomic level, allowing her to reshape the environment, create energy constructs, and even heal injuries with a touch.
"In return, the Symbiont drew a harmless sustenance from the host's life force and experiences, growing in power as their bond deepened.."
"This is it Myles!" Nylar rejoiced after his narration.
"This was the origin of everything, what Denumbit was after," Nylar
the secret he didn't want us to find out.
powers," Nylar The Shard of X'yrax. Think about it, this was part of what martha was researching before her death. What denumbit didn't want us to know about." Nylar
Myles eyes strick open as he heard the news.
"How did you get this?" Myles inquired.
Nylar sighed and explained, "Myles, our friend Martha left behind this journal, one of our allies 'Nero' was able to retrieve this from Martha's death scene. She had managed to keep it out of sight hidden from denumbit's prowling fingers before she died.
Unfortunately, he lost possession of it when he was later captured."
Nylar's gleem and cheerful expression exchanged for a sad one as he continued onto the next part of his narration,
"We managed to recover this journal during our last infiltration into the SYND complex awhile ago. Not everyone made it out alive.
"We've kept the journal ever since studying it, up until a while ago. We discovered it had a special kind of thermochromic ink-- ink that appears only when it is heated by fire."