Aeron's gaze lingered on the book, skepticism flickering in his eyes. "You had a clothing store this whole time and didn't think to mention it?"
The book's voice, calm as ever, answered, "You never asked."
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Of course. Fine. Show me."
In an instant, the air shimmered. The room around him dissolved, replaced by an endless white space—silent, empty, and vast. Aeron frowned, looking around. "So… now what? It's just emptiness."
"Think of what you desire," the book instructed. "That will guide the process."
Aeron raised a brow. "Desire, huh? You're starting to sound philosophical."
No answer. Just silence. He sighed. "Fine."
He closed his eyes, picturing what he wanted—something dark, sleek, and practical. When he opened them, racks of garments appeared before him, suspended in the void as though they'd been waiting. Each piece emanated its own subtle energy, the kind only someone like him could sense.
One outfit drew his attention immediately—a dark, fitted ensemble that radiated silent power. The description appeared before him in crisp lettering.
---
Shadow Dancer's Garb
Description: Attire crafted for those who move unseen.
Effects:
+30% resistance to Detection Law
+30% movement speed while stealthed
+20% evasion chance
Passive – "Shadow Slip": 10% chance to fade into stealth for 2 seconds upon taking damage.
Price: 700 Points
Balance: 870 Points
---
He studied the numbers, lips curving faintly. "Seven hundred points… that's most of what I've got."
"Quality comes at a price," the book replied, the tone almost smug.
Aeron chuckled under his breath. "Right. Fine. I'll take it."
With a single thought, the display vanished. The void collapsed in on itself, the white fading back to the familiar shadows of his room. The Shadow Dancer's Garb now lay neatly folded on his bed, looking impossibly real—like it had always been there.
He ran a hand along the material. It was soft but cool to the touch, like woven darkness. When he put it on, it molded to his frame seamlessly. The air around him seemed to shift in response—his presence thinning, as if the world itself had lost interest in noticing him.
---
Aeron sat back, the candlelight flickering across his features. The silence pressed in heavy and familiar. His body still hummed with the residue of power from his last transformation, the Death Law simmering under his skin like restrained lightning. His fingers drummed lightly on the table as his gaze drifted to the book resting before him.
"What was that transformation?" he asked at last, voice low. "Why do I feel… normal now?"
The book didn't answer immediately. Then, with its usual measured calm, it spoke.
"That was your Death Law form. A manifestation of your growing bond with the Law. It grants you greater strength, heightened perception, and a deeper connection to death's essence. But it is not permanent. Not yet."
Aeron leaned back, digesting that. His gaze caught the mirror in the corner of the room. The reflection that stared back wasn't quite human anymore. His once-gray eyes were pale and misty now—ghostlike, touched with faint streaks of crimson. It wasn't just color. It was as if something ancient looked out through them.
"What about my eyes?" he murmured. "They weren't like this before."
"They reflect what you've become," the book replied. "The Death Law leaves its mark. Your transformation will evolve as your mastery deepens."
Aeron's expression didn't change, but his mind was already turning, cataloging what that meant. If the Death Law changed him physically, what else could it change? How far could it go?
He stood, adjusting the new garb. "So it evolves… then I'll evolve with it."
---
The hallway outside was quiet. The torches burned low, casting long shadows across the cold stone. Aeron moved through them like smoke—soundless, unseen. Every step felt easier, smoother, as though the new outfit erased friction itself. He could feel the Death Law thrumming faintly inside him, responding to each heartbeat, each thought. It was intoxicating.
He turned a corner—and stopped.
A familiar voice called softly from ahead. "Hey… you."
The sound drew him from his focus. A slender figure stood by the corridor's curve—an elf, the same one who had brought him food when he first arrived. Her long hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, her sharp eyes reflecting a hint of curiosity.
She walked closer, head tilted. "I almost didn't detect you."
Aeron's tone was even. "How?"
Her lips quirked slightly. "You mean how did I detect you?" She crossed her arms. "I'm an elf. You're human. I read life energy. Yours is… different. Dense. Heavy. My Law could barely sense it until you were right in front of me."
Aeron gave a short nod, unimpressed. "I see."
He stepped to move past her, but she sidestepped, blocking his path again.
"Wait," she said quickly. "You seem strong. Stronger than most here. You're not part of a team, right? Maybe we could—"
"Not interested," he said flatly.
Her expression faltered, frustration flashing across her features. "At least listen—"
Aeron's patience slipped. His gaze locked onto hers, and the world seemed to narrow to that single moment. His pupils dilated, the faint red glow deepening. The Death Law stirred, answering his silent call.
For an instant, the air froze.
The elf's body tensed. Her breath caught. She stood motionless, eyes wide as the power of Death's Gaze seized her. Aeron felt it pulse through him—control, absolute and intoxicating.
But before he could push further, the book's voice resonated sharply in his mind.
"Do not kill her."
Aeron's focus flickered. His voice was quiet, edged. "Why?"
"She will be useful to you," the book said. "Her potential lies dormant. Awaken it, and she may serve as more than just an ally."
Aeron held her gaze for a heartbeat longer before releasing his hold. The air shifted back to normal. The elf stumbled, clutching her chest, confusion and fear flashing in her eyes. When she looked up again, he was already walking away.
She stood in the corridor, breathing hard, unsure of what had just happened. Somewhere deep inside, something stirred—an echo of the power that had brushed against her soul.
Unaware of it, Aeron disappeared into the shadows, his steps silent, his thoughts already elsewhere. He didn't know it yet, but that brief encounter had set something in motion.
The Death Law was evolving.
And so was he.