Chapter 4: " A Journey into Reflection"
Elias slowly opened his eyes, groggy and disoriented, as if the weight of sleep was still clinging to him. He could feel a soft warmth on his skin, a gentle pressure that seemed to come from all around. His body ached, but it wasn't the kind of pain he expected—this felt more like healing. A soft, feminine voice reached his ears, though he couldn't understand the words. His vision blurred, but he could make out the silhouette of a figure kneeling beside him, hands glowing with a soothing light.
Just as he was about to ask what was going on, a sudden jolt of dizziness rushed through him. The world around him seemed to swirl and distort. His stomach twisted as if he were caught in a vortex, and before he could process anything further, the feeling of vertigo intensified. It was like his very perception of reality was being torn apart, ripped away, and replaced with something entirely different.
The dizziness slowly subsided, but the sense of disorientation remained, leaving him struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Elias blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and when it finally focused, he found himself no longer in the familiar, sterile confines of the classroom. Instead, he was in a vast, dimly lit space that stretched endlessly before him, with an eerie, cold atmosphere. The stone floor beneath him was slick with moisture, and towering, jagged pillars rose up around him like silent sentinels. The air was thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the distant echoes of footsteps that seemed to reverberate throughout the chamber.
He lifted his head slightly, a sense of dread creeping into his chest as he realized something wasn't right. The feeling of being watched was heavy, like eyes were following him from the shadows, though there was no one in sight. He could feel the strange, pulsating energy around him, something ancient and powerful. His mind scrambled for answers—he had been in class, hadn't he? But now... now, it felt like he was in a completely different world, or maybe even a different dimension.
The figure beside him—the one who had been healing him—was still there. She was kneeling, her hands glowing faintly with a soft, ethereal light. Her presence was calming, but Elias couldn't focus on it entirely. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion, and his body still felt weak from whatever had happened before. Slowly, he sat up, pushing himself to his feet, his legs unsteady. The female summon—he could only assume that's what she was—stood as well, her gaze never leaving him.
"Where am I?" Elias rasped, his voice rough from the disorientation.
The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she watched him with eyes that seemed to hold a depth of knowledge and experience far beyond what he could comprehend. Her lips moved in quiet murmurs, but the words were foreign to him, like a language from another world. She reached out a hand, her palm glowing with that same calming light, and Elias felt warmth spread through his chest, slowly easing the tension in his muscles.
The moment he felt better, he tried to push the haze from his mind, but another wave of dizziness struck, and he stumbled back a step. His vision blurred again, and in the distance, he saw shadows flickering, figures that seemed to move on their own. The ground rumbled softly beneath him, and he felt as if the very walls were closing in.
A voice—a deep, almost imperceptible murmur—whispered in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite understand it, but the tone was ominous, like a warning. This is a place of trial, Elias. You must be prepared.
His heart rate quickened. Trial? What trial?
The dizziness worsened, and Elias was on the verge of collapsing once more when he felt a sudden jolt, like a sharp electrical current running through his body. His vision cleared, and the swirling shadows faded, leaving him standing alone in the center of the strange place. The summon, too, was gone. Everything around him was still, silent. It felt as if the entire world had paused, waiting for him to make his next move.
Just as he was about to ask more questions, the air around him seemed to thicken. The reality of the situation hit him like a punch to the gut. He was completely alone in this strange space—no teacher, no class, no answers. Just the haunting echoes of his own breath.
"Alright… I need to figure this out," Elias muttered to himself, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He instinctively reached for the one source of certainty he had left—his system.
System, what's going on?
The system's usual interface appeared before him, but this time, it was different. The familiar notifications, the cold efficiency of its responses—they weren't there. Instead, there was only silence, like the system was... unaware.
Elias's brow furrowed as he tapped on the panel. System?
The usual tone of robotic indifference was missing, replaced by an unsettling void. No response came. He tried again, calling for the system, but once more, nothing. His heart skipped a beat. This wasn't normal. The system had never failed him before—never.
A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered if something far greater was at play here. Could this be part of the trial? Or had he somehow been cut off from his own source of power?
Feeling the weight of the silence press down on him, Elias decided to try a different approach. He took a deep breath and summoned the system panel manually. The familiar blue interface materialized in front of him, but this time, the usual bars and status updates were absent. Instead, a single line of text appeared on the screen:
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System Status:
[Unable to access external sources. Internal functions compromised. Awaiting further instructions.]
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Elias stared at the message, disbelief washing over him. "What the hell does that mean?" he muttered under his breath. The system had always been an unshakable part of his existence—his guide, his support. But now, it was as uncertain as everything else in this strange, new world.
His hand hovered over the panel, unsure of what to do next. The screen remained static, offering no further information. Elias clenched his fists, trying to center himself in the midst of the growing chaos. Focus, he told himself. You can handle this. You've handled worse before.
But the growing uncertainty gnawed at him. Was he really cut off from everything he knew? Or was this just another challenge in a series of trials that lay ahead? Only time—and perhaps the system—would tell.
Elias took another deep breath, and as his panic began to subside, he realized that, for the first time, he was on his own. The system, once his crutch, now felt like a distant memory. A memory that might not come back.
Elias stumbled forward, his footsteps echoing faintly in the cavernous void around him. The oppressive silence pressed against his ears, broken only by the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance. The air was cold and carried an almost unnatural stillness, the kind that made his skin prickle with unease. As he walked, his eyes caught a glimmer to his side—a faint, silvery shimmer.
Curious, he turned and found himself staring into a puddle of water nestled into a shallow depression in the uneven stone floor. The surface of the water was strangely still, like polished glass, reflecting his image with unnatural clarity.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Elias truly looked at himself. His reflection showed a younger man, unscarred and unburdened, with a lean frame that spoke of someone who had yet to experience the weight of the world. His dark hair was tousled, his face boyish but sharp, with eyes that still held a spark of curiosity and defiance. His clothes, though simple, were clean and intact—a stark contrast to the turmoil he felt within.
He reached out, almost as if to touch the water, but stopped as the reflection rippled without warning. For a brief moment, he thought he saw something else—a different figure, taller and more imposing, gazing back at him. The image vanished as quickly as it came, and the puddle stilled once more. Shaking off the unease, Elias pressed on, the heavy silence now carrying an undercurrent of tension he couldn't ignore.
As he moved forward, the air seemed to grow heavier, colder. The ground beneath him cracked and shifted, as though the very space itself was unstable. Then, he saw it—a figure in the distance, faint at first but growing clearer with every step.
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The sight stopped Elias dead in his tracks. There, in the center of the desolate expanse, stood a man—or rather, knelt—a more mature, weathered version of himself. The older Elias was a figure of strength and solemnity, his presence commanding yet tragic. His shoulders were broader, his frame more defined, as though he had borne the weight of countless battles. His dark hair was longer, streaked with silver at the temples, giving him an air of wisdom and weariness. A jagged scar ran diagonally across his face, from his left brow to his cheek, a mark that only added to the aura of a man who had seen too much.
His attire was unlike anything Elias had ever seen. The older version of himself wore a long, tattered cloak that shimmered faintly, as if woven from threads of starlight. Beneath it was a suit of intricate black and gold armor, engraved with runes that seemed to shift and pulse with a faint glow. The armor was battered and worn, yet it exuded an undeniable power, a testament to the battles he must have fought.
But what struck Elias most were the swords.
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Ten great swords pierced through the older Elias's body, their blades shimmering with an otherworldly beauty. Each sword was unique, radiating an aura of legend and mystery. The first was made of pure crystal, refracting light into a dazzling array of colors that danced across the dark expanse. The second had a blade of blackened steel, veins of red coursing through it like molten lava. Another was golden, its hilt adorned with a massive ruby that pulsed like a heartbeat. One sword seemed to be made of moonlight itself, its edges soft yet impossibly sharp. Another was carved from obsidian, its surface etched with glowing blue sigils that shifted and changed as Elias looked at them.
The others were no less extraordinary: one wreathed in ghostly flames, another with a blade so reflective it seemed like a mirror, and yet another forged from what looked like shards of a shattered star. The last two stood out the most. One had a blade made entirely of flowing water, constantly in motion but somehow solid enough to pierce flesh. The other was dark and ominous, its hilt made of bone and its blade radiating an unsettling aura, as though it devoured the very light around it.
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The older Elias knelt in complete stillness, his head bowed, his hands resting on his knees as though he had willingly accepted his fate. His blood pooled around him, dark and viscous, but it didn't spread—it hovered just above the ground, defying the laws of nature. Surrounding him were countless fragments of cards, each one more beautiful than the last.
The cards were unlike anything Elias had ever seen. They shimmered with an ethereal glow, their designs intricate and mesmerizing. Some were bordered in gold, others in silver, and a few in deep crimson. They bore images of mythical beasts, celestial constellations, and swirling galaxies, each one a masterpiece of artistry. The cards seemed to hum faintly, their energies palpable even in their shattered state. A few still glowed faintly, their power lingering despite their broken forms.
The ground was littered with them, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the desolate, gray expanse. The air around the cards crackled with residual energy, as though they had once held unimaginable power.
The space itself was a scene of desolation. The ground was cracked and uneven, with jagged rocks jutting out at odd angles. The sky above was an endless void, neither day nor night, filled with swirling, dark clouds that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind that carried a mournful tone.
Elias felt a shiver run down his spine. The sheer eeriness of the place, combined with the sight of his older self and the haunting beauty of the swords and cards, made it clear—this was no ordinary encounter.
Elias hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. He took a step closer, his younger, unblemished reflection in a nearby shard of broken card contrasting sharply with the scarred, weary figure before him. What could this mean? Was this truly him—a vision of his future? And if so, what had led him to such a tragic fate?
His eyes drifted back to the older version of himself, still kneeling, impaled by the swords. Each sword seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive, as though feeding on the life force of the man they had pierced. The cards, too, seemed to hold secrets—fragments of a story Elias couldn't yet piece together.
The air around him grew colder, heavier, as though the space itself was watching, waiting for him to act. But all Elias could do was stand there, staring at the scene before him, his heart pounding in his chest.