The cold wind of Abysson city blew through the narrow alleyways, carrying with it the scent of salt and rust. High above, the towering buildings stretched toward the red-tinted sky, their dark silhouettes lit only by the faint glow of the city's strange, blue plants. It was always like this—dark, damp, and full of shadows. This was life at the edge of the Abyss.
Ren Valt moved carefully through the quiet streets, his long coat fluttering behind him. He had learned to avoid attention. The fewer people who noticed him, the better. He wasn't supposed to be here—not near the old, abandoned docks where rumors of strange happenings filled the air. But something had pulled him here, something he couldn't explain.
It had started weeks ago. At first, it was just a whisper, like a soft voice in the back of his mind. But over time, it had grown stronger. Ren didn't know what it was, but he felt it calling to him. That's why he was here, on this cold, windy night, walking towards something that he couldn't yet understand.
As he reached the old pier, the wood creaked beneath his boots. The ocean stretched out before him, black and endless, with waves crashing against the rocks below. Ren stopped at the edge of the pier and looked out at the water. His heart pounded in his chest. The air here felt… different. Heavy, like something was watching him.
Then, he saw it.
Far out in the ocean, a faint glow appeared. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but it grew brighter as the seconds passed. A beam of light, shining from deep below the surface. Ren's eyes widened. He had heard stories of strange things beneath the waters of Abysson, but he had never seen anything like this before. The light pulsed, sending waves of energy through the air. It called to him, pulling at his very soul.
Ren knew what this was. He had read about it in old, forgotten books. This was a Beacon, a relic from a time long past. Legends said the Beacons were left behind by an ancient race, beings who had come to this world long ago. No one knew why they had come or where they had gone, but their technology—Resonances—remained, scattered across the city. And now, one of those Resonances was calling to him.
Without thinking, Ren took a step forward, his gaze locked on the light. He could feel it drawing him in, filling his mind with whispers. They were faint, barely words at all, but they promised power—knowledge beyond anything he had ever imagined.
A sudden noise behind him broke his focus. Ren spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for the small blade at his side. But there was no one there. The alley was empty, save for the wind whistling through the gaps in the buildings. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching him.
Taking a deep breath, Ren turned back toward the water. The light had grown brighter, almost blinding now. He knew what he had to do. The Beacon was calling, and he had no choice but to answer.
With a final glance back at the empty streets, Ren stepped forward, making his way toward the edge of the pier. The waves crashed against the rocks below, but the Beacon's light never wavered. Slowly, carefully, Ren climbed down, his hands gripping the slippery stones as he made his way toward the water's edge.
As he got closer, the whispers in his mind grew louder, clearer. They weren't just random thoughts anymore. They were voices, speaking to him in a language he couldn't fully understand. But one thing was clear: the Beacon was offering him something. A chance to uncover the secrets of the Abyss, to learn the truth behind the Resonances, and to gain power unlike anything he had ever known.
But power always came with a price.
Ren paused at the water's edge, his reflection staring back at him from the dark surface. The light from the Beacon shimmered beneath the waves, casting strange patterns across his face. For a moment, he hesitated. He knew the dangers of dealing with Resonances. They were unpredictable, often corrupting those who used them. But the promise of power was too great to ignore.
With a deep breath, Ren reached out, his hand plunging into the cold, dark water. The moment his fingers touched the light, a shockwave of energy surged through him, knocking him backward. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to spin.
The whispers grew louder, filling his mind with strange symbols and images—memories that weren't his own. He saw glimpses of an ancient city, buried beneath the waves, and beings made of light and shadow, walking through its streets. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the visions stopped.
Ren gasped for breath, his heart pounding in his chest. The light from the Beacon had vanished, leaving only darkness behind. But something had changed. He could feel it, deep inside him—an energy, a Resonance, pulsing through his veins.
The Beacon had given him a gift. But what that gift would cost, he did not yet know.
As Ren stood up, shaking off the cold, a single thought echoed in his mind. The Abyss was waking, and it had chosen him.