The room is drenched in a terrifying, living darkness. Rosh stands frozen, his heart pounding as he stares at the walls, where shadows twist and writhe as if they have a life of their own. His breath hitches, his mind racing with panic, screaming at him to run away, to flee from whatever this horror is. But something else, deep inside him—an instinct, a gut feeling—whispers differently.
"You're safe… No need to run."
That inner voice, as strange as it feels, pulls him in the opposite direction. His fear battles against the calm instinct telling him to stay, but ultimately, the instinct wins. His hand trembles as he reaches toward the black stone sitting innocently on his desk. The dark mist swirling around it seems to move toward him, like it's waiting for his touch.
His fingers graze the stone, and instantly, everything shifts. The mist, so suffocating and alive, is sucked into the stone with a rush of motion. The room goes deathly still. The air is lighter, normal—eerily normal.
Rosh pulls his hand back, heart still pounding in his chest. He grabs the stone and sits on the edge of his bed, his mind racing in circles.
"What was that…?" He stares at the stone, its smooth, black surface as mysterious as ever. "What is this thing? Should I be worried? Should I get rid of it?"
The thought of throwing it away crosses his mind for a brief moment, but something keeps him from acting on it. But what if it's important? What if it's connected to… His strange awakening—questions without answers pile up in his mind.
Could this stone be dangerous? He glances back at the desk where it had sat, so harmful just a few moments ago. The dark mist, the way it filled the room—it felt alive, threatening.
His mind is a blur, but there's one thing he knows for certain. He can't ignore it. Not now. Not when something like this is happening. Without really thinking, he activates Insight, hoping for a clearer answer.
For a moment, nothing seems different. But then his eyes catch it. The mist… It's still there. Though much weaker, only a thin, dark vapor slowly seeps from the stone, curling lazily in the air like smoke from a smoldering fire.
"...It's still there," he mutters under his breath, reaching out. His hand moves through the mist. There's no resistance, no sensation at all. It's like his hand is passing through air. What is this? Why is it here?
He frowns, staring at the stone, feeling its strange pull. Why am I so drawn to it? There's a low hum in his chest, like the stone is calling to him, like it's part of something bigger than he understands. The sensation is unsettling but impossible to ignore.
Setting the stone down beside him, he pulls out his phone. Maybe there's something online, something about strange black stones or magic relics. He types in search terms—"black stone," "dark mist," "magic artifacts"—and scans through several pages, but nothing even comes close to explaining what this could be.
Frustrated, he tosses his phone aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Is it connected to… me?" he whispers, staring at the stone. The thought nags at him, growing heavier by the second. His Insight skill, his magic, the mist—it's all intertwined somehow.
Then, another idea comes to him. What if I pour magic into it? His heart skips a beat at the thought. He can feel the magic thrumming inside him now, ever since his training and awakening. The stone feels… hungry for it, like it's been waiting for him to realize this.
But then another thought stops him cold. No… No, that's a bad idea. What if something dangerous happens? What if it explodes? He imagines the stone shattering, releasing the mist into his room, filling every corner with that horrifying darkness. What if it consumes him?
He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the thought. "But nothing's happening now," he murmurs. "Maybe… maybe it won't hurt me."
The stone continues to call to him, the pull stronger now that he's considering it. He stares at it, hesitating, weighing his options. His fingers twitch with the temptation.
His breathing slows as he makes up his mind. I'll just try a little. Just enough to see what happens.
Rosh places the stone on the floor, exhaling slowly to steady his racing heart. His hand hovers above it, and after a long moment of hesitation, he begins to focus, gathering his mana. He still hasn't mastered manifesting it beyond a small ball, but this feels different. The stone seems to be calling to his energy, like it's hungry for it.
The moment his magic touches the stone, Rosh feels something strange. His mana isn't just being released—it's being pulled from him, as if the stone is actively drinking from the well of energy inside his body. His eyes widen in shock.
What's happening? Why can't I stop it?
He tries to pull back, to stop the flow of mana, but it's no use. The stone seems to have a grip on him, drawing out more and more of his energy. He can feel the mana draining from him, a slow but steady depletion. His heart pounds as the exhaustion begins to creep in, a familiar sensation from all his training—but this is worse.
His limbs grow heavy, his breath becomes shallow, and panic starts to set in. I can't stop it! It's taking everything!
Moments later, Rosh collapses to the floor, gasping for air. His body feels like it's been hollowed out, his mana completely drained. He lies there, struggling to move, his vision blurring as his strength fades. The stone sits in front of him, still and silent… but full.
Suddenly, it begins to vibrate. A low, ominous hum fills the room, and Rosh's heart leaps into his throat. His body trembles in fear, thinking he's done something horribly wrong. What did I just do?
Then, without warning, the stone erupts. A wave of black mist bursts forth, flooding the room in seconds. The mist swirls around him, thick and suffocating. His heart races with terror, but… something in his mind stays calm. Strangely calm. Despite his fear, there's a sense of peace, of knowing that he isn't in immediate danger. Why am I… not panicking?
He sits up, staring at the mist, and what he sees takes his breath away. The dark mist, swirling around him, is filled with small, twinkling lights—like stars scattered across a night sky. It's beautiful. Despite the fear gnawing at the edges of his thoughts, he can't help but marvel at the breathtaking scene unfolding before him. The stars shimmer in the darkness, casting faint glimmers of light across the room.
But then the mist begins to move, swirling and spiraling above the stone. The stars seem to gather, pulled into the vortex of darkness forming at the center. Rosh's heart pounds louder with every passing second, each beat echoing in his ears. He pushes himself back, his hands trembling. What is happening?
The mist gathers, condensing in the air, forming a shape. Rosh watches, horrified and mesmerized at the same time. The darkness takes on mass, solidifying. Is it a monster? His fear spikes. Did I just summon something terrible?