Waking up before sunrise, bathing, then hunting. That has been Oath's lifelong routine, and he still carries it out today. The difference is—now he hunts for himself. Sometimes, the loneliness creeps back in. How different it feels to hunt for oneself compared to hunting for many. But this was Maxwell's command, so that Oath could stay alive.
Javelin strike: activated
Oath hurled his spear, striking a deer whose antlers were entangled with the skull of another already-dead deer.
"A true warrior," Maxwell commented.
"He would've died even if I hadn't killed him today. A deer dragging around the severed head of his enemy wouldn't survive for long."
Occasionally, Oath would return to the ruins of the spaceship that once sheltered him. The damage was so severe that debris was scattered everywhere.
He wished that if he could just save one person from the wreckage, it would bring him great joy. But after two weeks of coming and going, there was no sign of life. Even the robots that once inhabited the place were destroyed.
"Why was the explosion of this ship so massive, Maxwell? As if everything aboard was engulfed in an inferno," Oath muttered while pushing aside a hunk of metal blocking the forest path.
Maxwell paused.
"Long ago, a brilliant inventor discovered a way to cultivate an extraordinary energy source."
"Extraordinary?"
"Yes. It was called extraordinary because it amazed every eye that beheld it. It was known as Ether, the void energy. Some called it The Particle. A medium of emptiness capable of generating infinite energy. That's what kept your people's ship floating for so long."
"Drifting for thousands of years—just imagine," Oath replied.
Oath stepped into an old building, abandoned and covered in moss and creeping plants.
Much of this area had been destroyed by the wreckage. But one building still stood.
Oath's eyes caught sight of another piece of debris.
"This is a self-sufficient reactor. This thing generates energy from Ether and recycles it endlessly."
Oath examined the reactor. It was no longer functioning—charred and broken. But he could still picture how it once looked.
"No one knew about this. We didn't even know such a reactor existed inside the ship."
"Whoever designed the ship... must have planned this very carefully. This reactor was never meant to be touched by anyone."
Oath touched the metal surface of the reactor. Cold.
Suddenly, his vision was filled with green and blue matrixes.
"What is this? Can you see this?"
"I don't know."
That reply frightened Oath. When something strange happened, Maxwell always had an answer. But not this time.
"If you don't know… could this be an anomaly from the orb you gave me?"
"I truly don't know. Part of my memory was damaged in the attack. Many of my data files were lost."
"Thanks for the information."
The matrixes formed complex patterns. Oath's thoughts spiraled. His blood surged. He clutched his head.
"Headache?"
"No. It's just… I feel like my brain is being scooped out and replaced with something."
The matrixes continued to flood Oath's mind—until finally, he collapsed.
"OATH! Hang on!"
"What is happening?!"
With a scream, the phenomenon stopped. Oath gasped for breath.
"What was that just now?"
"I really don't know. Do you feel different?"
"Not really. I feel the same as before."
Oath looked at his hand. A strange symbol had appeared—triangles spiraling into a circle.
What is this symbol?
Oath extended his hand forward.
"What are you doing, Oath?"
Then, a massive force exploded outward from his hand.
Oath's body was hurled far back—thrown from the building.
"Oath! Are you okay?!"
He only stopped when his body slammed into a large tree outside.
"What the hell was that?!"
"It can't be," Maxwell muttered.
Oath stared at the site of the explosion. Half of the old building had been destroyed—yet there was no fire. Everything had simply been blown away.
"Did that come from your hand?"
"It seems… it did."
"No way," Maxwell repeated, still in disbelief.