The days that followed P.R.I.M.E.'s chaotic unveiling became a crucible for Arslan. Amid the soaring towers and twilight-laced skies of the Mythic Base, the once-isolated youth now walked among warriors, not as a reluctant outlier—but as one of their own. The icy distance between him and the other Mythics had melted away like frost before the blaze. Bonds were forged in shared meals, quiet sparring, and unspoken respect.
But when the sky dimmed and silence fell over the chambers, Arslan vanished into the solitude of night.
Beneath the twin-moonlight pouring through the shattered archway of the inner courtyard, Arslan trained alone.
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Day 31....
He stood barefoot upon the cold obsidian stone, eyes closed, Volthren humming in his grasp. Shadows curled around him like ink in water.
Arslan whispered, "Soulflare Dominance."
A pulse. A surge. The air cracked with a silent explosion of invisible force. His senses sharpened, and a violet shimmer wreathed his body. His mind, once tangled in illusions and memories, cleared like glass.
"This technique... cuts through deceit. Enhances speed. I can feel everything."
Thump-thump. The beat of his heart became a war drum. Volthren moved with him, slashes tracing arcs that blurred through the air. Dark spikes erupted from the ground as he layered the movement with Dread Spike Guard.
"Now... I combine."
His blade spun. Volthren + Soulflare Dominance + Dread Spike Guard.
The courtyard howled with black winds.
Dark energy surged with each slash, summoning obsidian spikes that danced like serpents. Within their spiral—a dome of dark energy formed, shield-like, feeding on the ambient energy and draining imaginary foes.
"I name you... Nightpiercer Veil."
He collapsed to one knee, panting.
"Again."
Day 32 - Forging the Nyxblight Fang
Kar'Thael helped Arslan in forming a new weapon.
Arslan, now familiar with the ancient forge, placed a fragment of voidsteel and a shard of Veilstone within the crucible.
Clang. SSSHHHHK.
He struck with Volthren. Once. Twice. The metal gleamed.
A curved single-edged blade began to form—dark as pitch, absorbing every flicker of light.
"Absorb shadows. Draw power from darkness. Your name shall be Nyxblight Fang."
The moment he lifted the forged weapon, tendrils of shadow licked the ground beneath him. It pulsed with hunger.
Day 33 - Wings of Shadows and the Lightning Born
Lightning crackled across his back.
"Dark Lightning Strikes," he murmured, lifting a hand.
From his palm—bolts of darkened lightning danced out, splitting the air with shrieks. They carved trenches into the stone.
He paired it with spiral footwork, invoking Spiral Recoil. The electricity coiled and exploded outward.
A javelin rested beside him. Forged the night before. Slender, black-silver, and impossibly light.
Arslan hurled it skyward.
"Ebon Spire Javelin!"
It vanished. A sonic boom ruptured the sky.
Then—WHOOSH! —it returned to his palm, crackling.
He grinned. "Now... the wings."
Channeling the new flow of shadow energy through his back, his aura erupted into wings of umbral light.
He took flight.
The Winds of Shadows beat once—and Arslan hovered, surrounded by crackling dark lightning.
---
Day 34 - The Birth of Dual Catastrophe
Tonight, he sought synergy. Creation.
He spun both weapons—Nyxblight Fang and Ebon Spire Javelin—before embedding them in the training ground.
The first combination: Volthren + Soulflare Dominance + Dread Spike Guard.
Spikes, shield, and amplified movement converged into a cyclone.
Nightpiercer Veil activated. Dark spikes lashed like thorns in a storm.
Then, he stepped back.
"Black Halo... Dark Lightning Strikes... Spiral Recoil... and Ebon Spire."
He hurled the javelin. It spiraled.
FLASH! A burst of lightning coiled around it—and then struck in a spread pattern, recoiling midair and returning for a second barrage.
"Name it... Stormvoid Requiem."
He stood amidst the smoke, eyes blazing red, sweat pouring down.
His breath ragged, his strength nearing its limits.
But he was not done.
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Day 35 - The Mythic Unleashed
Rain poured over Lumisgrave. Thunder echoed.
In the far courtyard, the other Mythics watched in silence.
Vaelith murmured, "He didn't sleep. Not once."
Yuna added softly, "And yet... he's not broken. He's grown."
Arslan stood beneath the storm, weapons in hand, wings wide.
With a roar, he activated both combination techniques.
Nightpiercer Veil encased him in a shield of siphoning darkness.
Stormvoid Requiem tore through the sky with thunderous screams.
And then, for the first time—he smiled.
"These five days... I surpassed myself."
The others joined him. No words. Only silent acknowledgment. A brother among equals.
And in the silence, one thought unified their hearts:
Arslan had become more than a Mythic. He had become a storm.