Before Grey stood a steel door, dimly illuminated as if moonlight brushed over a field of flowers in twilight. Its edges were sealed with thick layers of silver metal, reflecting the faint glow of the runes etched into the floor, radiating a pale luminescence that barely pierced the dense darkness of the corridor.
It was as though the entire hallway had been crafted to lead him here, with no other way out, like a trap from which he could only escape by moving forward... or surrendering. He stood motionless, staring at the runes, his brow furrowing in frustration at the spell's refusal to translate that cryptic language, something it usually did effortlessly. But Julius, his teacher, had insisted that both he and Sunny learn to interpret the runes for themselves, not always relying on the spell.
Thanks to this, he could recognize strokes and patterns in those marks, though he immediately felt the weight of incomprehension strike his mind. His hand instinctively rose to his forehead as a sharp pain overtook his eyes and his head throbbed, overwhelmed by the forbidden information it was trying to process.
'The runes!' he thought, pulling his gaze away with a shiver. He knew he wasn't supposed to see what he wasn't prepared to understand, nor allow his mind to drift into things beyond his limits.
As his breathing steadied, his heart beat with a mix of anticipation and resignation. It was inevitable: every part of him told him he had to cross that door, though part of him wished to turn back. He felt, as deeply as it was inexplicable, that by crossing that threshold, his fate would be irrevocably sealed.
He took a moment to recover from the incident, his gaze now fixed on the door. His eyes glowed with an unusual intensity, mirroring the ghostly light of the runes. He knew that the step he was about to take would shape his life one way or another.
What he didn't know, what no spell could predict, was whether that destiny would be one of light, like the rising sun, or one of darkness, like the twilight that enshrouded the world in shadows when pure light hid behind the horizon.
---
Grey took another step, reaching the edge of the circular line of runes surrounding the door. It was like an invisible barrier, a protective seal that seemed to prevent the lock from being opened from within, a threshold not meant for anyone to cross.
There, he felt a familiar yet unknown presence emanating from within. It was a call, a tempting invitation that seemed to pull at his soul, seducing him with a faint trace of sacred power—a power that, though tiny, bore the mark of something beyond the human. That aura was strangely weak, almost fragile, and Grey wondered how something so ethereal could belong to that being of light who once fell from the heavens and condemned an entire land. Yet, the feeling it conveyed was not only power but life, as if something—or someone—inside was deliberately calling to him.
As if responding to that magnetic pull, his leg moved on its own and crossed the rune's threshold. The moment he did, the entire world seemed to change.
...
Far away, the changing Star Cohort felt a sudden jolt. The whole world seemed to vibrate, disturbing every dreamer at that moment.
"What the hell was that?" Sunny exclaimed, wide-eyed, immediately glancing at Nephis and the rest. No one had an answer; silence took hold of them as each formed their theories about that strange event.
Behind them, guarding the rear through the crimson labyrinth, Sara stopped. She looked north, and a fleeting spark, a glint of something long lost, shone in her brown eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, the spark vanished.
...
In some unknown place, a figure watched intently, frowning. Realizing that their most prized achievement had slipped from their perception, they clenched their hands in frustration and stood. Staring into the distance, they tried in vain to locate Grey, but the boy had disappeared, as if the step he'd just taken had hidden him even from eyes that had always watched him.
...
The glow of the mystical runes faded as soon as Grey's foot crossed its invisible barrier, as if its purpose had been shattered by the mere presence of a dreamer daring to push its limits.
Grey, however, was stunned.
It wasn't the sudden change in the surrounding environment that disturbed him, nor the strange release he felt from a constant, vigilant gaze, as though something or someone had ceased watching him. It wasn't even the way the darkness around him grew denser, almost as if it were taking on a life of its own. No, his concern was something else.
What truly surprised him was something far more personal: his body. It was shifting erratically, uncontrollably alternating between his light and attack mode, then suddenly becoming strong and resilient in his bestial form. The change was relentless, frenetic; it was as though his powers responded to an external will, preventing him from halting the circulation of both energies.
It was as if something external was manipulating his soul, stopping his abilities from responding in the usual way and making them behave erratically, almost as if playing with him.
Then his body took another step, defying Grey's will, who fought fiercely to stop.
"Damn it! I shouldn't have entered here!" he thought, a wave of fear washing over him. "This was a mistake! Stop, please! Don't go in, don't go in there!"
But his pleas were in vain. With one final step, his body stopped in front of a massive door. Slowly, his right arm stretched forward, and his palm touched the cold metal. His body continued shifting, his claws extending and retracting over and over, in an unending cycle that seemed impossible to stop.
When his palm brushed against the door's surface, it moved.
Grey's heart leapt as he watched it open slowly, as if protecting the world from something indescribable. Before him, the darkness began to spread from the door like a black tide, and with it emanated a presence, a kind of dark and perverse holiness that felt both pure and authoritative.
He stood motionless, watching in horror as the darkness within the door engulfed him until he felt a gaze, an ancient and powerful presence watching him from deep within. His legs trembled, and in that moment his body collapsed, shuddering.
His powers stopped abruptly; the energy surrounding him faded, leaving him in his common, vulnerable human form. His body began to shake violently under the authority of that entity. He curled up, hugging himself, trying to stop the convulsions, but it was useless; that gaze remained fixed on him.
With what little willpower he had left, he summoned the courage to lift his gaze and observe the figure at the center of that darkness.
There, barely visible in the center of the room, was a chained figure, suspended in the air. Its feet, neck, and arms were bound by chains adorned with ancient runes and powerful enchantments, as if they were meant to contain the immense power of the fallen Nephilim.
The creature's appearance was desolate, deformed yet faintly human. Grey noticed a vast void in its chest, a dark opening that went all the way to its back, emanating a dark and voracious power. His gaze slowly traveled over the being's body, and with each detail he observed, a growing pain settled in his chest, as though each sight resonated within his soul.
The being was in a crucified posture, suspended by the chains that kept it afloat. Its arms were extended to the sides, its legs bound, and from its head emerged a crown of black horns outlining its face with sinister elegance, curving toward its chin.
Finally, Grey met the entity's eyes. For a moment, they stared at each other, and in that brief instant, time seemed to stop. Grey's spasms ceased, his breathing slowed, and his heart pulsed with a haunting calm.
Then, he heard a voice.
"How strange it is to see another of my kind in this place of confinement."
A shiver ran down Grey's spine. That voice didn't come from the chained figure, nor did it seem to come from a physical place; it was more like an echo in his mind, a resonance in his own consciousness.
Unable to do anything else, Grey concentrated all his will and formed a response in a single thought.
"What are you?"
There was a moment of silence, and Grey hesitated, unsure if the being had heard him. But after a few seconds, the voice responded.
"I am one of those who were cast out of the heavens. The gods call us the profane Nephilim, mortals know us as angels, and demons call us the Fallen."
Despite the calm in the voice, a profound unease gripped Grey. He could feel the lack of malice in the words, but nothing in that creature was human. He couldn't trust something so alien to morality and life.
"What do you want from me?" His thought emerged, tinted with fear and resentment. "You've brought me here, for what?"
The Nephilim remained silent for a moment, and Grey felt time stretch, thick and ominous. Finally, the being spoke again.
"I sensed the aura of one of my own in your soul, the mark of a fallen companion from the heavens, imprinted on your spirit."
The answer left him in shock. Before he could fully grasp it, the Nephilim continued.
"That's why I called you here. I want you to kill me."
The words resonated in his mind with an unfathomable weight. Each syllable seemed to vibrate within him, challenging his understanding.
"Don't you want me to free you? To break the chains that keep you captive?" Grey thought, his mind struggling to grasp that request.
"No." The voice was firm. "The abyss has corrupted me. If I am freed from these chains, the darkness in my soul will escape, and the whole world will suffer the curse that the gods imposed upon my kind."
"Curse? What curse?" His question came almost without thinking, a desperate impulse. "You said I'm one of yours... Am I cursed too?"
There was another long silence, so dense it seemed to consume the darkness around him.
"Yes. The curse of my kind resides in your soul, though it is weak now. We possess the light... but we also carry darkness and ruin with us. Our fate is wretchedness, a punishment from the true gods."
Grey could barely breathe. He wanted to ask, wanted to understand more about that curse and the gods who imposed it, but the Nephilim's voice interrupted him, now more urgent.
"Don't ask any more. You must kill me now. The seals placed by the seven heroes have been broken, and the curse within me will soon be unleashed. In my current state, you can sever my head with that weapon in your hands."
The pressure in the room suddenly dissipated, and Grey regained control of his body. He stood up, gripping his spear with trembling hands.
"Can't you tell me something more before I kill you?" His voice shook as he spoke, the tension palpable.
"If you don't hurry, you and this world will perish."
With one last moment of doubt, Grey enveloped his body in light and charged forward. Odyssey shone brightly, illuminating the entire room. The Nephilim's eyes ignited for an instant before closing forever.
With a single strike, Grey severed the Nephilim's head in two.
Immediately, the voice of the spell echoed in his mind.
[You have slain a sacred titan, Light of Ruin]
[Your souls grow stronger]
[You have received an attribute]