The moon hung low, its silver glow bathing the great plains in ghostly light. Serian's camp stood in stillness, warriors asleep under makeshift tents. Only the Hero remained awake, staring at the flames of the campfire as they danced like restless spirits.
He touched the glowing gem embedded in his gauntlet—The Lightheart Core. The Church said it was a divine gift, but to Serian, it felt… familiar. Like he had touched it before, in another life. In another form.
> "Why do I feel like I'm not the one who should be holding this?"
A shadow moved behind him.
Kaeden.
> "Still brooding?" he said with a forced smile, taking a seat across from Serian.
Serian returned the smile, calm and polite. "Just thinking."
> "You always are," Kaeden muttered. "Must be nice. Being everyone's favorite."
Serian paused. "You resent me?"
Kaeden's fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade. "I trained my whole life to be the Hero. Then you showed up, perfect from the start. It's not fair."
Serian's eyes narrowed slightly. "You think I wanted this?"
> "I think you don't deserve it."
Before more could be said, the fire twisted—a flash of black flame spiraled up and died in an instant.
Serian stood up sharply. Kaeden fell silent. Something dark had entered their world.
---
Meanwhile, in the underground ruins beneath a dead city, Malveth stood before her soldiers—children no longer. Clad in dark leather, steel, and bone-carved armor, they kneeled in rows, eyes glowing with zeal.
> "The time is near," she announced, her voice echoing like thunder. "The Hero's crusade will march east. That land belongs to us. We will meet them there—not in hiding, but in glory."
One of her captains—a teenage girl with a blade fused into her arm—stepped forward.
> "Do we kill the Hero?"
Malveth paused.
> "Not yet. I want to see him with my own eyes. I want to feel if he remembers what we were... before we were split."
She turned away, eyes hardening.
> "If he's truly forgotten—then yes. We kill him."
---
Far above them all, atop a lonely spire of obsidian, the real MC sat alone. Ravens circled. The wind howled. His face remained calm, as always.
He had watched the conversation between Serian and Kaeden through the clone's eyes. He had listened to Malveth's speech through the system's shared link.
> "They're growing. Too fast," he muttered. "If one awakens… the whole balance crumbles."
He clenched his fist—and images flickered in his vision. Past lives. Blood. Betrayals. Gods falling.
> "I made you to be tools. Not to dream. Not to feel."
And yet… a small part of him hesitated.
> "But if you do... will you turn on me too?"
The wind whispered in answer. A storm was coming. And in that storm, truth would bleed.
---