Kael found himself submerged in water, deep beneath the surface. He didn't know where he was, or how he got there. In fact, he didn't even know who he was. He simply floated—motionless, aimless—lost in the vast emptiness around him. There was no purpose, no intent. Just the endless expanse of water surrounding him on all sides, a void that seemed to stretch into infinity.
He didn't care.
He didn't want to care. There was no need for anything. He was content, or at least, he thought he was. The water was cool, its pressure soothing, and it was all-encompassing. In that moment, Kael had no desires, no goals, no reason to fight or struggle. He was at peace. For eternity, if he had to be.
It felt as though the very essence of time had stopped. Nothing mattered—until he heard it.
A faint, distant cry.
At first, it was nothing more than a whisper beneath the water, barely noticeable, but it reached him, piercing through the silence. A girl's voice, soft, sweet, but filled with such sorrow. She was calling for someone—someone he didn't know.
But despite the confusion, there was a strange discomfort in his chest. A tightness, a tugging sensation that he couldn't quite place. Why was he feeling this way? Why was this girl's crying affecting him so?
The more he heard it, the more the discomfort twisted inside of him. It wasn't just the sadness in her voice—it was something deeper. Something about the sound of her tears enraged him. He didn't want to hear it. He wanted to stop it. He wanted to end her sorrow, and if need be, do it himself.
Without fully understanding why, Kael started to move.
He swam.
The current fought against him, relentless and powerful. It tugged at him, pushing him back with every stroke. But he didn't stop. There was something pulling him forward—a need, a desire to reach that voice. It was a soft cry, the kind that sounded so helpless, and yet so full of longing. It was a voice that called out for someone—someone Kael didn't know, yet he felt an overwhelming urge to go to.
There was light, a soft glow ahead, and the voice was growing louder, clearer. It was coming from that direction. But the water fought him, pushing him away, dragging him backward no matter how hard he swam. His limbs were growing heavy, his muscles burning from the effort, but he couldn't stop.
He had to reach her.
He didn't understand why, but every part of him screamed that he couldn't let her keep crying. The more he heard her sorrow, the more intense his own discomfort became. And the closer he got, the stronger the pull grew.
The light was right there, so close. Just a little further, and he could reach it.
Then, something shifted. The image of a girl appeared in his mind—her face, her tears. She was crying, calling out for him, but in her own way, she was also waiting for him.
Liana.
The name echoed in his mind, as if it had been there all along, but he had forgotten it in the depths of the water. He stretched his hand out toward the light. His body surged forward, driven by that name, by the promise he had made. The memories of Liana, of her soft, tearful voice, of the promise to return to her, all flooded his mind.
He couldn't fail her.
With all his remaining strength, Kael reached for the light, and just as his fingertips brushed against it, everything collapsed. The overwhelming sensation of water, the suffocating silence, and the pull of the current all disappeared in an instant.
His eyes snapped open.
Kael was lying in a simple room, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he scrambled to sit up.
"Liana!" he shouted, his voice hoarse, as if he had been holding back a scream for far too long. His heart pounded in his ears as the image of her face, her tears, and her voice echoed in his mind.
He didn't know what just happened, what the water had been, or why it had felt so real. But one thing was clear—he couldn't let her down. Not now. Not after everything.
Kael's eyes shot open, his breath ragged, as he sat up with a jolt. His entire body ached. He clenched his fists, feeling the dull throb of pain in his limbs, but it was nothing compared to the excruciating memory that lingered in his mind—the fire. The searing, unbearable heat that had burned his body and soul. The agony was something he couldn't quite shake, as if the flames were still dancing across his skin.
His chest tightened at the memory, the sensation of his soul being consumed by the flames, burning, tormenting, and torturing him beyond human limits. It had been so intense—he could still feel it, like the fire had marked him forever. But there was something else, something even more haunting. The deep, ancient voice that had resonated in his mind, speaking to him from somewhere far beyond. He could still hear it in the recesses of his thoughts, like a distant echo:
"A strange individual indeed."
He hadn't known what it meant then, but now... he wasn't so sure. It had been like an omen, a warning, or perhaps a judgment. A voice that wasn't quite human. The more he thought about it, the more it unsettled him.
Looking around, Kael finally took in his surroundings. He was no longer in the abyss, no longer drowning in that vast, endless water. Instead, he found himself in a simple, modest room. Two chairs, a table, and simple, sparse decorations. The room had no grandiosity, no grandeur—nothing to make it seem special. It was just enough to live. It was plain, functional, but it had a sense of quiet serenity about it.
He stood up, feeling weak but determined. As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed a plate of food and a jug of water on the table. His stomach growled—loudly—and he didn't think twice. He sat down and began to devour the food, gulping down the water as if his life depended on it. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he last ate or drank. He couldn't remember how long he had been wandering in the darkness, but it felt like eternity.
As he ate, his mind began to clear. The hunger and thirst were being satisfied, but the questions only seemed to multiply. What was this place? Was he inside the door? Was this the dungeon? It didn't feel like a typical dungeon. There were no monsters, no traps, no sense of impending doom. Just... silence. But then, why did it feel so dangerous?
Kael sat back in the chair, feeling his mind racing. He needed answers. Needed to understand what was happening here. His eyes flicked toward the door that had led him in here—the massive, imposing structure he had encountered earlier.
Then, with a sense of certainty, he called out calmly, his voice steady but full of suspicion, "Why don't you come out?"
For a long moment, there was nothing. The room seemed still, undisturbed, as though his words had been swallowed by the silence. But Kael had a feeling. It was a strange, almost instinctual awareness. It felt as though someone—something—was watching him. Studying him. Observing every move he made with critical eyes.
Just as that thought settled in his mind, the entire room shook.
The table, the chairs, the food—all of it began to crumble away, as though it had never existed in the first place. The walls seemed to dissipate, and Kael was left standing alone, once again surrounded by an oppressive, unrelenting darkness.
He blinked, adjusting to the shifting surroundings. What was happening? Where was he now?
And then, in the center of the dark void, something caught his eye. A marble-like object—black, smooth, and shiny, gleaming in the darkness like a diamond. It radiated an overwhelming power. The energy emanating from it was unlike anything Kael had ever felt before. It was intense. More intense than the power coming from the door, a hundred times stronger. His body instinctively tensed as the oppressive force in the air seemed to weigh him down, pushing against him like an invisible hand.
From the depths of the darkness, a voice spoke—deep, resonant, and filled with an ancient power. The words sent a chill down Kael's spine, as though they had been etched into the very fabric of existence.
"It is the core."
Kael's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the glowing marble in front of him. The voice continued, its tone rich and heavy with malice.
"Destroy it, and you will gain unimaginable power. Power beyond your comprehension. Power that could rival even the gods themselves."
The voice seemed to linger, vibrating in the air, and Kael could feel its weight bearing down on him. It wasn't just any voice. This wasn't a mere mortal speaking—this was something far older, far more dangerous. Something that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, something that had existed for centuries, perhaps even millennia.
Kael's mind raced as he looked at the core. His heart pounded in his chest. Could he destroy it? Could he really gain that kind of power? And at what cost?
Before he could gather his thoughts, the voice came again, more forceful this time, like a command.
"Destroy it, child, and you shall transcend. But beware... power comes with a price. The question is, are you willing to pay it?"
The darkness around him seemed to deepen, and the pressure from the core grew stronger. Kael's pulse quickened as he stared at the marble, his thoughts swirling in confusion and uncertainty.
Power... or destruction?
He didn't know what to do. But the presence of the core, the voice, the power—it was all too overwhelming to ignore.
The choice... was his to make.