Allen found himself in a completely white space. There was no floor, no sky, no identifiable horizon. The light seemed to come from everywhere at once, soft yet infinite, erasing any sense of direction. His body felt weightless, offering no resistance, as if gravity had ceased to exist. He floated slowly, uncontrolled, like a spirit suspended in an immaculate void.
He instinctively tried to move his arms, but felt no real muscular sensation. It was as if his body existed without truly being material. His mind remained clear, yet strangely calm. Emotions were muted, as if something filtered his thoughts. The silence around him was so profound it seemed to absorb every fragment of consciousness.
"Is this… death…" Allen wondered. The thought passed through his mind, but no sound came out. He tried to speak, to open his mouth, to form words, but nothing happened. His body no longer possessed the usual functions of life. He then realized he could only communicate through thought.
He looked around for what felt like a long time. The white remained identical in all directions, immutable and silent. No movement, no variation in light. Yet, despite this perfect stillness, Allen had the strange feeling of being watched.
As he continued searching for a reference point in this void, something caught his attention in the distance. A silhouette stood far away, barely visible in the infinite whiteness. It appeared to be seated on something resembling a throne. Allen tried to focus his gaze to make out more details.
But the distance remained strange, almost illogical. No matter how hard he tried to see more clearly, the figure stayed blurred and indistinct. "A person…" he thought simply, unable to perceive more.
Then something changed abruptly. Without understanding how, the space around him seemed to contract. The figure that had previously been distant suddenly appeared right before him. There was no visible movement, as if the distance had never truly existed.
The man sitting on the throne rose slowly. He was of almost unreal beauty, as if his features had been sculpted with perfect precision. His long white hair fell lightly over his shoulders. A small black horn rested at the corner of his forehead, subtle yet impossible to ignore.
His pupils were an intense blue, shining with a strange light. That gaze seemed capable of piercing through everything, as if observing not only Allen's body but also his soul. The man approached with absolute calm.
He stopped just in front of Allen and tilted his head slightly, like a scientist observing a rare creature. His eyes slowly examined Allen's spiritual form.
"Fascinating insect," he said in a calm, almost amused voice.
Allen wanted to respond immediately. He wanted to ask what was happening to him. He wanted to understand where he was. But again, no words came out. It was as if his existence no longer had physical organs to produce sound.
He tried to force his will to speak. He wanted to ask this man who he was, why he was observing him like this. But all remained silent. His thoughts spun in the void without being able to express themselves.
The man continued to examine him with visible curiosity. His gaze sometimes grew more intense, as if discovering something unexpected. "Interesting… very interesting," he murmured almost to himself.
At that moment, Allen suddenly felt something strange change around him. An invisible, silent yet irresistible force began pulling his soul in a direction he could neither see nor understand.
The sensation was like a powerful current slowly carrying him away from this white space. It was not a violent pull, but rather a constant attraction, as if an unknown gravity had awakened somewhere in the void. He instinctively tried to resist, seeking to cling to this unreal place where he floated, but he immediately realized he had no control over his own movement.
His consciousness was already beginning to slip out of this immaculate space. The perfect white surrounding him gradually blurred, like an image dissolving into light. The contours of the throne, the still air, and the presence of the mysterious man slowly lost their sharpness. Allen tried once more to understand what was happening to him, but his thoughts seemed to slow as he was carried further away. A strange feeling, between fear and resignation, settled in his mind.
As he gradually disappeared from that place, the white-haired man gave a slight smile. It was neither mocking nor cruel, but rather the smile of an observer satisfied by something unexpected. His blue eyes followed Allen attentively, as if watching a fascinating experiment unfold before him. The man remained motionless, perfectly calm, while Allen's spiritual form drifted slowly into the invisible.
"We will meet again, human," he said calmly, his voice resonating in that silent space like a mysterious promise. The words were simple, but their tone carried a strange certainty, as if he already knew this encounter would not be the last. His gaze stayed fixed on the place where Allen had just disappeared, then the white space returned to its perfect stillness, as if nothing had ever happened.
Then everything vanished. The infinite light abruptly faded, giving way to total emptiness. Absolute darkness filled Allen's consciousness, so deep it seemed to absorb all thought and sensation. For an indeterminate moment, nothing existed—no perception, no memory, no sense of time passing.
When he opened his eyes again, the sensation was brutal and violent. The first thing to strike his senses was not the light, but the smell. A heavy, thick, unbearably putrid odor immediately filled his nostrils. It was so strong it almost took his breath away and provoked an instinctive reaction of repulsion. The air felt thick, contaminated by a decaying organic presence.
He was in a dark pit. Stone walls rose around him like the sides of a deep well. The place was dimly lit by an indefinable light seeming to come from far above. The atmosphere was humid and stagnant, as if air had not circulated here for a long time.
Around him were corpses. Human bodies piled on top of each other, forming a grotesque heap.
Some were already bloated from decomposition, their faces unrecognizable. Others seemed more recent, their limbs still rigid, their clothes still identifiable despite bloodstains.
Allen let out an instinctive scream. "Haaah… what is this?!" His voice echoed violently against the stone walls of the pit, returning to him as a muffled reverberation. Panicked, he immediately tried to step back, but his back hit something cold and soft. He turned abruptly and discovered another body behind him.
He looked around in horror, his eyes scanning the scene in total confusion. Bodies were stacked in all directions, some crushed under the weight of others. Rigid hands protruded from the mass of dead flesh, while faces frozen in expressions of pain seemed to stare into the void. The clothes were torn, covered in dust and dried blood.
Allen quickly placed a hand over his mouth to shield himself from the unbearable smell. He tried to sit up to find a place to think. But there was no free space. Every movement of his body forced him to touch another corpse, to feel with his hands the cold rigidity of dead flesh. Eventually, he shivered as he realized he had been sitting directly on one of them all along.
"Damn… where am I now…" he wondered.
His gaze slowly swept over the bodies around him, unconsciously trying to make sense of what was happening. After a few moments of careful observation, one detail caught his attention.
All the corpses bore exactly the same wound on their chests.
A deep, clean cut, located in the same spot on every body. The wound appeared to have been inflicted by a precise blade, penetrating directly into the heart. There was almost no variation in location or shape, as if each victim had undergone the exact same ritual.
Allen felt his heart race at this discovery. A troubling thought immediately crossed his mind. If he was here among all these bodies… then he too must be dead.
He quickly placed his hand on his own chest, instinctively seeking the wound he remembered receiving. His fingers pressed the spot where the dagger had pierced. But he found nothing.
His skin was perfectly intact. No hole, no scar, no trace of injury.
"How is this possible…" he murmured slowly, surprise clearly visible in his eyes. His mind refused to accept what he saw. He remembered perfectly the dagger piercing his chest, the burning pain that had engulfed his body.
Then a sudden migraine struck his mind with unexpected violence. A sharp pain surged through his head like an electric shock. Allen immediately brought his hands to his temples, gritting his teeth under the unbearable pressure.
Images began to appear in his mind. Fragments of memories slowly forming in his inner field of vision.
But these memories were strange. Some clearly belonged to him, familiar sensations tied to his own existence. Yet other images were completely unknown, as if they came from another life.
In these visions, a solitary man appeared at the center of an undefined space. His silhouette remained blurred, as if something prevented Allen's mind from seeing him clearly. Still, his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming.
Around this man stood several other silhouettes. These figures shone with an intense golden light, as if composed of pure gold or divine energy. Their radiance illuminated the space around them, yet their faces remained hidden behind this light.
They spoke among themselves. Their gestures seemed to indicate an important discussion, perhaps even judgment. But their voices were completely inaudible to Allen, as if the sound was intentionally blocked from him.
Allen tried to focus all his attention to understand what they were saying. The images gradually became clearer, as if his consciousness was slowly adapting to these foreign memories.
Then he noticed a much more precise detail. The man at the center bore a deep wound on his chest.
From this wound emerged a golden chain. A shining chain, composed of perfectly smooth links reflecting the divine light of the surrounding figures.
A much larger silhouette than the others held this chain in its hand. Its presence completely dominated the other golden figures. Even without seeing its face clearly, Allen could feel an overwhelming authority emanating from this entity.
Allen had no understanding at all of what this scene meant. The images seemed part of a story far larger than him. Yet, despite his confusion, something suddenly awakened within him.
A violent emotion was born in his heart.
Immense rage.
A deep desire for vengeance surged into his mind without warning, like a brutal flame erupting in the darkness. His teeth clenched involuntarily under the pressure of this sudden anger.
"Why do I feel this… why…" he murmured, unable to explain this intense emotion that did not seem to belong to him.
Suddenly, a luminous blue interface appeared in front of him in the air. The light gradually formed into clear lines, like a translucent screen floating in space. The glowing characters became visible before his eyes.
[CONGRATULATIONS YOU HAVE BECOME AN ELECTED ONE]
[HOST IDENTIFICATION IN PROGRESS…]
[IDENTIFICATION FAILED… UNKNOWN DATA]
[FINAL RESULT… HOST NOT ELECTED]
[EXTINCTION OF THE ELECTED SYSTEM IN PROGRESS…]
[EXTINCTION COMPLETED]
The blue interface then fragmented into thousands of glowing particles, scattering into the air before disappearing completely.
Almost immediately, a new interface appeared before him.
This time, it was purple. The light it emitted was deeper, more mysterious, as if containing ancient energy. The symbols composing it seemed almost alive, vibrating slightly in space.
[BIRTH OF A DIVINE SYSTEM IN PROGRESS…]
[BIRTH COMPLETED…]
[WELCOME TO THE DIVINE SYSTEM "DAARK"]