"Look there!" A man with broad shoulders and muscular arms, carrying a bag brimming with digging materials, exclaimed, pointing toward the far wall of the dimly lit cave.
"Hmm? Where?" A woman, her wide-brimmed hat shielding her face completely from the stray shafts of sunlight that managed to pierce through the cave's entrance, replied lazily.
"On the wall. Look at that mirror." The man's voice was firm, his eyes darting between the object and their surroundings.
The woman, glancing at the mirror, raised an eyebrow. "So? What about it?" she asked with thinly veiled sarcasm, adjusting her hat to get a better view of herself. A small smirk crept onto her face as she muttered under her breath, "Yup. Still looking better than everyone else."
The man, overhearing her, tightened his jaw but chose to remain silent, unwilling to indulge her vanity.
Taking a deep breath, he muttered, "We're in a goddamn cave in the middle of nowhere, and you don't find it alarming that there's a mirror here? Doesn't that strike you as strange?" His voice betrayed his growing unease as he surveyed their surroundings for potential threats.
The woman tilted her head thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, it is odd," she admitted, her tone less flippant. "Let's set our tether here and cautiously head further in."
The man shook his head sharply. "No, we're not going in ourselves. Let your puppet do the exploring first. Tethers aren't foolproof. If whoever placed that mirror is stronger than us, the tether might not save us. You know that as well as I do."
Her expression hardened. "What makes you think the person who put that mirror there is stronger than us?"
He sighed, exasperated. "This is why I tell you to study animal behavior more often." Gesturing toward the cave's entrance, he pointed at a pile of weathered bones scattered near the threshold. "See those? They're not ordinary remains. Those bones belonged to creatures at least Master-ranked. That means the one who created this place is either a highly skilled Master or, worse, a Grandmaster. Either way, I'm not about to test my luck."
The woman visibly stiffened at his words, her confidence faltering. "A Grandmaster?" Her voice quivered. "That's impossible. The last Grandmaster was recorded over seven hundred years ago. No human can live that long."
"I'm aware of that," he replied. "Which is why I suspect this is a tomb. But remember, old Masters and Grandmasters didn't like people looting their legacies. They built traps—deadly traps—most of which we probably couldn't even comprehend. That's why I said, send out your puppet, Ella."
Ella bit her lip and nodded. In a low voice, she whispered, "[Transmission: Clothed]."
A sudden, faint vortex appeared before her. It was ethereal and surreal—no air was pulled into it, as though it existed and didn't exist simultaneously. From the man's backpack, a wooden puppet with stick-like limbs shot forward and floated into the vortex.
"[Transmission: Clothed—Spawn]," Ella murmured as the puppet disappeared. A heartbeat later, the puppet reemerged, stepping through the vortex as if nothing had happened. Ella's commanding voice echoed in the cave. "Go!"
The puppet bowed politely, then obediently began its journey into the cave, venturing deeper than either Steven or Ella dared to tread. As it moved, Ella's purple eyes took on a kaleidoscopic glow, shifting between a spectrum of colors as she entered a trance-like state. The man, now identified as Steven, observed her silently, waiting.
After a few tense minutes, Ella finally spoke, her voice excited. "Steven! There's an entire room ahead. It's made of Cold Iron, the kind that was discovered only a hundred years ago."
Steven's eyebrows rose in intrigue. "Were there any traps along the way?"
She shook her head. "None. That means the person who built this wasn't a Grandmaster."
Steven smirked. "Good. Let's see what they've hidden."
The two quickly left their bags near the mirror, just in case they needed to retreat. Their footsteps echoed through the narrow passage as they followed the path Ella's puppet had taken.
After about ten minutes of walking, Ella came to an abrupt stop. "We're here," she announced.
In front of them loomed a grand door, towering and imposing. Its surface was a dull gray, inscribed with intricate symbols and scripts in a language neither of them understood. The carvings made the door appear as though it was designed to seal something—or someone—within.
"Hey, Steven," Ella's voice was quieter now, tinged with hesitation. "Are you sure we should go in?" She picked up her puppet, cradling it protectively.
Steven didn't immediately respond. His gaze lingered on the door, his mind racing. Finally, he said, "I think I've read about doors like this before."
Ella blinked in surprise. "You have?"
He nodded. "There are only six doors like this in the entire world. With this, we've just discovered the seventh."
Her frown deepened. "What does that mean?"
Steven's eyes gleamed with excitement. "It means a legacy lies beyond this door."
"A legacy?" Ella echoed, confusion lacing her tone. "Only Grandmasters have legacies, right?"
"Exactly," Steven replied, pushing the heavy door open with a determined shove.
The room they entered was unlike anything they'd ever seen. At its center stood a solitary table, its surface gleaming faintly under an unknown light source. Neither of them noticed the two skeletal figures slumped in opposite corners of the chamber, their empty sockets watching them silently.
Both Steven and Ella felt an inexplicable pull toward the table, as though some unseen force was urging them forward. Their minds clouded with a singular focus, they didn't even register when a crystal resting atop the table exploded.
The force of the explosion should have been overwhelming, but they didn't feel a thing. Instead, memories—vivid, foreign, and ancient—flooded their minds.
They saw flashes of battles fought millennia ago.
Images of a forgotten hero who stood against gods.
Scenes of a savior who had defied fate itself to protect the world.
Memories of someone erased from history.
Memories of a legacy waiting to be claimed.