Then… darkness.
My consciousness once again drifted into that vast expanse of darkness — the meeting point of everything. I noticed that the place had changed from the last time I arrived here.
My mind strained itself; I thought deeply about the shift in the atmosphere of this pitch-black realm. A suffocating void that erased all concepts of existence and logic. It was an abyss without sound, without color, without form — it simply… was. But… what truly terrified me was—
The darkness of this world vanished and gathered into a single point of black.
I stared at that spot, as though all the evil of the world had crystallized at a single, endless horizon.
Fear struck me — a dread that shook my entire being. It was not the fear of death, nor the fear of some overwhelming cosmic presence. It was something beyond words. What word could possibly describe a world that shifted from devouring darkness into a white void? A purity and calmness that carried more terror than comfort.
I kept watching the black spot as it began collapsing into itself in irregular spasms, as if it reflected the chaos within my own emotions.
Silently, I observed it change shape into a black shadow — one that even light was pulled into — as though I were gazing into an endless abyss of isolation and cold.
A black shadow with glowing white eyes. A whiteness so pure that even snow seemed like a mere imitation. This was terrifying purity.
The shadow began pulling something out of its hollow body, and before me manifested the same sword I had seen — though slightly different in form.
For a brief moment, I thought the shadow was the Angel of Death, come to claim my soul. But it moved forward, approaching me through an atmosphere heavy with terror and anxiety. Step by step, it drew closer.
I tried to scream. I tried to speak. I tried to beg — even to run. But I could not move a single muscle. I could only stare at my inevitable fate.
The shadow stood before me in imposing majesty, gazing at me with lifeless eyes. Then it leaned toward my ear and spoke in a tone that filled the air with dread — a moment in which I would have preferred death over enduring that feeling.
It said:
"There is no life for one who has tasted annihilation. No power without sacrifice. No sacrifice without pain. And no pain without fear. So here I stand, offering you power on a golden platter. Death is yours — closer to you than your own vein."
In a feeling no poet has described, no person has witnessed, no priest has spoken of—
The shadow stabbed me.
A stab that returned me from life to death, forcing me to remember a fear that would never leave my mind for as long as I lived.
That is all I remember, Miss Emily. Even though the Commander told you to inform him of everything, I beg you — please keep this incident between us.
I spoke to the girl who looked at me with deep concern — a look that carried hidden pity for my state.
Don't worry, Miss Emily. I'm fine. I'm truly grateful that you listened and cared. I said this while hiding, with all my strength, the overwhelming sense of weakness inside me.
Silence filled the room.
"Zak… why don't you want to tell the Commander?"
Emily spoke in a broken voice. Her gentle tone and sorrow flowed into my ears like medicine placed upon an old wound that had only grown more painful with time.
"I don't want to worry him. I've already caused enough. Please… keep this secret between us."
"Then why did you tell me?"
I laughed softly. "I honestly don't know anymore."
I turned my hand and saw that the sword from my dream — the one inside the box — had merged with my tattoo, forming a new shape.
"Emily… may I ask you something?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"What is this sword—"
I froze. Before I could finish speaking, the sword tattoo moved from my arm and materialized physically in my hand once again.
Emily and I stared in shock at the sword. It looked different now — more… like me. Or like my mark.
"I understand now," Emily said.
"What is it?"
"In our world, there are weapons forged from special magical stones infused with high Zen energy. This sword is one of the most important weapons of the Storm Guild. Its name is Arkam."
"It was crafted by an ancient blacksmith — one of his finest masterpieces. I don't know his name, but I've heard many stories about him and his blades."
"This sword was born from a Mutant-class beast. That classification has no internal ranking, since its types are unpredictable. But this one… was unique."
"It was ranked third-tier within the Shrine of Beasts. Multiple guilds had to cooperate to defeat it — some even believed it belonged to a higher tier."
I couldn't hide my astonishment. I never imagined a weapon of such power or rarity. The Commander truly is remarkable — my respect for him only grows.
"But Emily… why did it require so many people? Was it truly that strong?"
"It wasn't strong," she replied. "It was terrifying. Only seven beasts in history have broken their classification. It was one of them."
"And strangely… among all who went to fight it, not a single one died."
"Despite its overwhelming power, it was… merciful. For reasons unknown, it avoided delivering fatal blows."
My eyes lit up with a strange excitement that clashed with the fear inside me.
"You seem excited," Emily said gently. "I envy you. This sword is extraordinary… but it also changes according to its own will."
"What do you mean?"
"It seems the Commander intended to test you more than to gift you. This sword chooses its wielder. It is a sentient weapon."
But my thoughts were elsewhere.
"Emily… something doesn't make sense. Why would humans risk killing a third-tier beast — the second most dangerous rank in the Shrine — for a creature that never harmed them?"
She paused.
"Zak… there are things we do not know. Things we do know. Things we are better off not knowing. And things you must pretend not to know."
Her tone had changed — sharper, yet filled with sadness.
"That beast… the one that is now merely a tool in your hand — never harmed a single human."
"But humans wanted it dead."
"It was a legendary tiger — with a scorpion's tail and eagle's wings. Blue eyes. Thick white fur. And a beautiful black gem embedded in its forehead."
"It could control nature itself. It had helped humans many times. But what stirred their envy and hatred was that black gem."
"It allowed the beast to change its form and attributes in ways no one could comprehend."
"Several guilds united to slay it."
"But for the first time…"
"No one returned."