Ethan stood there, his eyes fixed on the spire, the hand of which was now shaking. That feeling lingered behind—this queer, ancient power flowing through his limbs, this eternal rhythm vibrating beneath his skin. It was that: he had this new power; it made his blood pulsate, his bones cry out in pain. His breathing was lopsided as his mind battled. *What was this? How was he supposed to have some kind of such ability?
His fingers curled as he willed himself to press down his fear. It was a gift. No, it was something more than that. Something infinite, unfathomable.
Before he could even try to make sense of his thoughts, the noise came back. Low vibration. A deep, ancient whisper. One that made his spine prickle.
"You are prepared, Master."
Ethan froze. His heart lurched, his body locking as the words rattled through his mind. He glanced around, but the source of the sound was nowhere visible. His pulse thundered in his chest.
"What. what is this?" he whispered. His voice sounded fragile, uncertain.
"You are ready, Master," the voice repeated, and this time it felt closer—intimate, resonating inside his bones, inside his very soul.
Ethan could feel his body respond to it. His mind bucked, protesting, but as if the unsaid truth was calling, the ancient words stirred a part of him he couldn't grasp.
Master.
The word hung in his mind, resonant, meaningful. Ethan didn't know if it was a threat, a blessing, or something else entirely. His breathing came quicker. *What was this power? Why did it recognize him this way?*
His hand clutched his chest as if he were trying to calm the rising storm of thoughts. He knew he couldn't ignore this. His mind, his very soul, ached for answers.
He fumbled for his communicator, the voice straining as he keyed it on. His hands were numb.
"Amara," he said, breaking a little. "I need you. I think I've. unlocked something. Something *big.* I don't know what this is, but I can feel it, and I need help."
Static crackled through before Amara's steady voice came on the other end.
"On my way. Hang on."
Ethan exhaled, still far from calm. He held his hands tight across his gun as he blinked his eyes shut once again to steady himself. His thoughts stretched out in this feeling in his body as they tried to understand it.
It was alive. He sensed it. *Had to be tied to the spire. But how?
He waited. His thoughts swirled, consumed by the sound and the mystery.
When Amara's figure came out of the dust and gloom, her sharp, confident steps snapped him out of his trance. She emerged from the pale glow of the spire, her weapon holstered but ready, her piercing gaze locked onto him.
"Ethan," she said, cutting into him with her voice, her tone unwavering. "You summoned me. What is it?"
His eyes flickered as he looks back to her, seeing the tension; the way his hands cling to his weapon, his uneven breath.
"I. I think I've gained something," he said, hardly audible. His throat is dry and his words felt in a struggle to come out. His hands shook and he tried to calm down.
Amara took a few steps forward, being cautious. "What kind of something?"
Before Ethan could answer, that whisper had come again. It was loud, clear, impossible to ignore.
"You are the Master. You will lead. You will fulfill your purpose."
The voice was within his head, like the physical embrace around his head. Ethan stumbled backward; he clutched at his head, his body taut as if each word had punched into him.
Amara's voice cut across his panic. "Hey! Ethan, are you alright?"
Ethan looked up at her, his desperation written across his face. His breathing grew faster, harder. His voice shuddered as he tried to explain, though he was not quite sure how to.
"I can hear a voice. It's in my head. It just keeps calling me 'Master.' I can't make it stop. It says I have a purpose. That I'm supposed to do something. To *lead.*
Amara stared at him for a moment, uncertain, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon. She looked at the spire, at the odd glow radiating from it, and back at him.
"This sounds ancient, Ethan," she said. "Whatever it is, it might be tied to this spire. Or something far older. But *Master?* That's. that's no ordinary phrase."
Ethan closed his eyes once again, concentrating. He could feel it—the energy, the power. It was alive. His entire body thrummed with it, and he didn't know whether it was a curse, a gift, or a challenge.
The sound came back, low and whispery, but this time did not drive him to fits. It was steady, controlled, commanding.
"You shall learn to control, Master," it declared. "But first, you must know the way. I will guide you, if you will listen."
Ethan's breath grew deeper. He felt the force of the voice pressing on him, pulling at his soul, his purpose. His mind was a swirling cloud of doubt and possibility.
"What does this mean?" he whispered.
The whisper sounded far away, but this time it faded into his consciousness with determination.
"It means you were reborn for this. You have been given the power to save this world, but it will demand sacrifice, mastery, and clarity. Three trials stand before you. Complete them, and you will fully understand this power."
Ethan's heart thudded. His breath came in jagged, uneven bursts. His mind churned with questions.
"Trials?" he panted. "What are the trials?"
The voice didn't answer. It hung there, silent, and he could feel the power, the feeling—the energy of ancient symbols and arcane strength—seeping into his bones, into his muscles. His thoughts were racing.
Amara was still watching him warily. "Whatever this is, Ethan. you need to focus. You need to learn how to harness it before it destroys you."
Her words hit him like a cold splash of water. He realized she was right. His thoughts were scattered. His body was trembling, overtaken.
He looked up at her, eyes gleaming with the light of the spire's energy. He spoke in a hoarse voice, "I don't even know how to begin."
Amara steadied her gaze. "We'll figure it out together. Let's start by understanding what this really is. But you're not alone in this, Ethan. You've got me."
He took a deep breath, feeling the pull of his mysterious power still rumbling beneath his skin.
The journey ahead would be difficult. But at least, for now, he wasn't alone.