Nathan gasped as the world tilted around him, the sensation of falling pulling him into a void. Darkness swallowed him whole, and for a moment, it felt like everything had stopped. There was no light, no sound—just the suffocating pressure of the unknown.
Then, with a hard thud, he hit the ground.
Groaning, Nathan pushed himself up, his body aching from the impact. His vision swam for a moment before it cleared, revealing his surroundings. He was in a vast cavern, dimly lit by flickering blue flames that lined the walls. The air was cold, biting against his skin, and the smell of damp stone filled his nostrils.
"Angel?" Nathan called out, his voice echoing in the cavern. "King? Enoch?"
Silence.
He was alone.
A shiver ran down his spine. This place—it felt different from the temple above. The oppressive weight of dark magic still lingered in the air, but there was something else. Something ancient, watching him.
Nathan stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes, and began to walk. His footsteps echoed softly, the blue flames casting eerie shadows on the walls. He wasn't sure how deep underground he was, but the oppressive energy grew thicker with every step.
As he ventured deeper into the cavern, Nathan felt a strange pull—a force guiding him toward something. His heart raced, a mix of fear and curiosity driving him forward. After what felt like an eternity, he entered a larger chamber, where the light from the flames seemed to dance more intensely.
At the center of the chamber stood a stone pedestal, and atop it lay a sword.
It was unlike anything Nathan had ever seen. The blade was long and slender, forged from a metal that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Strange runes were etched into the hilt, pulsing faintly with a soft, blue light. The air around the sword thrummed with power, as if it was alive, waiting for him.
Nathan hesitated. The sword was clearly not of this world, its presence almost overwhelming. But something deep within him—an instinct he couldn't explain—told him that this sword was meant for him.
He stepped forward, his hand trembling as he reached for the hilt. The moment his fingers wrapped around it, a surge of energy coursed through his body, filling him with warmth. The blade felt impossibly light, as if it had been forged specifically for him.
And then, a voice echoed in his mind.
"You have awakened the blade, but its power is bound to your soul. You must learn to wield it, for it is both your weapon and your burden."
Nathan staggered back, the voice fading into the distance. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at the sword, the blue light from the runes flickering faintly.
The mythical sword. His sword.
Suddenly, the ground trembled, and a low growl reverberated through the cavern. Nathan turned, his grip tightening on the sword's hilt. From the shadows emerged a creature, its form grotesque and twisted. It moved on all fours, its body covered in jagged spikes, and its glowing red eyes locked onto Nathan.
It wasn't like the other monsters they had faced before. This one felt… stronger.
Nathan raised the sword, his heart pounding in his ears. The creature lunged, and instinct took over. He swung the blade, and to his surprise, the sword cut through the air with a speed and precision he hadn't expected. The blade connected with the creature, and as it did, a burst of blue light erupted from the sword, sending the monster sprawling back with a screech.
Magic. He had used magic.
The realization hit him like a tidal wave. The sword wasn't just a weapon—it was a conduit for the magic that had been stirring inside him since he entered this cursed realm. The small, faint pulses of power he had felt before were now surging to the surface, and the sword amplified it, allowing him to channel it into something tangible.
But there was no time to dwell on it. The creature was already back on its feet, snarling with fury. Nathan took a deep breath, feeling the magic stir within him again, and prepared for another attack.
Suddenly, from behind the creature, a blast of fire shot out, engulfing the monster in flames. The creature howled in agony, thrashing wildly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.
"Nathan!"
He spun around, and there they were—King and Angel, running toward him. Angel's hand was still outstretched, wisps of smoke curling from her fingertips. She had summoned the fire. King, his sword at the ready, was scanning the chamber for more threats.
"Are you okay?" Angel asked, breathless but relieved.
Nathan nodded, still trying to process everything. "Yeah. I think… I think I just used magic."
Angel smiled, though it was tinged with exhaustion. "You're not the only one. We all have it, Nathan. This realm—it's changing us. The magic here is waking something inside of us."
Nathan looked at King, who was eyeing the sword in his hand. "Nice blade. Where'd you get it?"
Nathan held up the sword, the blue light from the runes still glowing softly. "Found it here. I think it's… connected to me somehow. It's not just a sword—it's more than that."
King nodded. "Looks like we've got more than just monsters to worry about. If we're going to survive this, we're going to need to learn how to control this magic."
Nathan agreed. The magic was raw, untamed, but he could feel its potential. He just needed to figure out how to harness it before it consumed him. And with the sword in his hand, he had a fighting chance.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shook again, more violently this time. Cracks began to form in the walls, and the cavern started to collapse.
"We need to move!" Angel shouted.
They sprinted toward the exit, the sound of crumbling stone and roaring monsters filling the air. But as they ran, Nathan felt the weight of the sword in his hand, the magic stirring within him.
This was just the beginning.