The barracks were silent, save for the soft sound of the storm outside. I lay on my cot, my crimson eyes slowly as the exhaustion of the day claimed me. But as my consciousness slipped, I found myself in a place far removed from the waking world-a realm of darkness and shadows.
I stood in a vast, desolate expanse. The ground beneath me was blackened and cracked, and an oppressive red sky loomed overhead. In the distance, I saw a massive throne carved from jagged obsidian, glowing faintly with crimson veins.
Sitting upon the throne was a figure cloaked in a shadow, its skeletal form was twisted and grotesque, with long, clawed fingers resting on the armrests. Glowing red eyes burned in the void of its face, and its voice rumbled like distance thunder, deep and chilling.
"Child," the figure said, the single word echoing across the expanse.
My hands instinctively reached for my sword, but it wasn't there. I stepped forward cautiously, my crimson eyes meeting the glowing figure's unblinking gaze.
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice steady despite the weight of the presence before me.
The figured chuckled, the sound low and reverberating. "You may call me… a fragment, a remnant of what once was. And what will be."
I clenched my fists. "Why are you here?"
"To remind you," the figure said, leaning forward slightly, its clawed hand gesturing to the shattered expanse. "You carry a very special power in your blood, but you have yet to awaken its true potential. You stand at the edge of the abyss, child, but you hesitate to fall."
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't need your riddles."
The figure tilted its head, its skeletal grin widening. "Perhaps not. But you will remember my words when the time comes. And when you do…"
The figure leaned back, its claws tapping the throne rhythmically. "Embrace the abyss, or it will consume you, and only death will await your people."
Before I could respond, the world dissolved into shadows, and I woke with a start, my chest heaving.
The sun had barely risen when the squad gathered in the courtyard. The town surrounding Squad Five's headquarters was alive with activity. The sounds of merchants and soldiers filling the air.
Luna approached me with a bright smile, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "Ready to start your training?"
I nodded curtly, my cold demeanor unchanged. "Let's get this over with."
She led me to an open field behind the barracks, her enthusiasm undeterred by my aloofness. "Okay, mana control is all about focus and intent," she explained, holding out her hand. A faint glow surrounded her palm as she formed a sphere of light.
"Try this," she said, stepping back to give me space.
I extended my hands, my crimson eyes narrowing as I concentrated. Dark mana began to swirl faintly around my palm, but the sphere flickered and vanished before it could take shape.
Luna giggled nervously. "Not bad for a first try! Let's keep at it."
As we continued, Luna moved closer, adjusting my posture and guiding my focus. Her cheeks turned red as our hands briefly touched, but I remained indifferent, my sharp aura making the moment fleeting.
By the end of the session, I had made little progress. I turned to leave, my voice curt. "I'll try again tomorrow."
Luna watched him go, her blush deepening as she muttered to herself, "Why does he have to look so...…. Intimidating?"
I wandered in the outskirts of the town, my mind replaying the dream. The dark figures words echoing in my thoughts, feeling me with unease.
As I rounded a corner, I saw Xeraniel sitting atop a low wall, his white hair catching the fading the sunlight. The gravity-wielding warrior grinned as I approached.
"Still brooding, I see," Xeraniel said, his voice light but laced with an edge.
I crossed my arms. "What do you want?"
Xeraniel's grin faded, and he gestured for me to sit beside him. "You're not the only one with demons, you know."
I hesitated before sitting. "Talk, then."
Xeraniel leaned back, his glowing blue eyes fixed on the horizon. "I was born into a cult. They worshipped the gods, but not as saviors. They saw them as destroyers, beings to be feared and obeyed without question."
He chuckled bitterly. "My mother was one of their priestesses. My father… well, let's just say he wasn't long enough to matter."
I listened silently as Xeraniel continued.
"They called me a gift from the gods because of my powers. But to them, that 'gift' was something to be used, exploited. They pushed me harder than any child should endure, breaking me so I could be the perfect weapon."
Xeraniel's grin returned, but it was empty. "And when I finally broke free, I destroyed them. All of them. The people who raised me, the ones who called me their savior. I crushed them under the weight of their own faith."
My crimson eyes narrowed. "And now?"
"Now?" Xeraniel's grin widened. "Now I fight for myself. Foe the thrill of it. The gods created me, but I'll make sure they regret it."
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our pasts hanging between us.
"Seems like we both have scores to settle," I said finally.
Xeraniel smirked. "Guess we do. Just don't get in my way when it's time to settle mine."
I stood, my shadow stretching long in the fading light. "I won't."
As I walked away, the words of the dark figure and Xeraniel mingled in my mind, their weight pulling me deeper into the abyss of my own thoughts.