Lucien found himself inside a dormitory provided to him for as long as he was going to stay in the Institute. The room was nothing fancy; it had a bed, a cupboard, and a table, but to him this was infinitely better than the streets of the suburbs.
He plopped down on the bed.
'This feels better than I expected. Let's see what kind of abilities I got from the so-called Void Fragment.'
He had felt it ever since he woke up, but there was something about shadows—which he decided to ignore—that made them feel connected to him, in a way, as if they were welcoming his presence. He could feel a certain connection to them.
More importantly, though, he seemed to be hearing things from his shadow.
'Am I hearing things? I didn't become schizophrenic, did I?' Lucien thought to himself, glancing around cautiously.
"You're not hearing things, I'm talking to you, dumbass."
"WHAT?" Lucien yelped, taking a quick step back.
"I said, I'm talking to you, dumbass!"
Lucien was utterly dumbfounded. It seemed as though his own shadow was talking to him. He stared at it, blinking slowly. Preposterous. It doesn't even have a voice box.
"Wha— What are you?" the confused Lucien struggled to speak, eyes fixed on the shifting silhouette at his feet.
'Now that I think about it, my first Revelation did have something to do with darkness. I just didn't expect it to turn my shadow into a disrespectful bastard.'
"Hey! Who're you calling disrespectful?!" the shadow retorted.
"Oh, so that's what irks you?" Lucien replied, crossing his arms with a small sigh.
The shadow simply shrugged at him, its shape flickering slightly.
"How do you even know what I'm thinking?" Lucien questioned, brow furrowed.
"I am quite literally an extension of you, why wouldn't I be able to hear your thoughts?"
"But then why can't I hear your thoughts?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"You are hearing my thoughts; how else do you think we're talking? It's not like I have a voice box."
'How is your voice outside my head if we are talking with thoughts?'
"That's just your brain playing tricks with you."
'I see… Well, what can you do?'
"I'm glad you asked. I can do lots of things. For starters, since I'm an extension of you and bound to you, I can talk to you via thoughts. I can also share my senses with you—if I'm close enough, that is. Other than that, I also don't need sleep or anything," the shadow said, a hint of excitement in its tone.
'That's… useful, I guess,' Lucien replied, rubbing the back of his neck as if unsure whether this was going to be a blessing or a long-term headache.
Lucien had expected more from a supposedly never-seen-before Ethereal ranked Innate Revelation.
"What's with that sarcastic tone?"
'Nothing…' Lucien thought as he willed the shadow to shut up.
'Huh, so that's how it works.' A slight smirk formed on his face.
He had spent quite some time reading, thinking, and talking with the disrespectful bastard. Quite some time had passed, almost reaching midnight. Lucien decided to sleep and deal with the rest of the nuisances tomorrow.
***
He woke up to the familiar sight of the obsidian sky. This time, however, there was no voice announcing his arrival.
'WAIT, WHAT?!'
'How am I back here? There was no Vestige in my room! Even if it formed while I was sleeping, I would've woken up from all the commotion it would cause!'
Lucien expected himself to be in panic, yet surprisingly he was calm. This place—which Lucien had decided to call the Obsidian Realm—felt inviting; it had a distinct warmth to it which Lucien had never felt before. If he had known any better, he would've been able to correlate it to home, but he never had a home, and so he couldn't.
Getting up, he looked around. It was all too familiar, except for one distinct difference: the spire. It felt different; no, it was different.
Previously, when he had stood up, the spire had been directly in front of him.
This time, however, it seemed to be towards his left.
'Is it? Or maybe I just shifted while getting up.'
'Although the spire creeps me out, it's not like I have anywhere to go, so… might as well see what awaits.'
Once again, Lucien approached the spire with a measured gait and a cautious look on his face.
Looking at the spire, it was similar to the last one he went to; however, it felt much more inviting and much less threatening.
'I'm not dumb.'
Indeed, he wasn't. If there was one thing Lucien had learned out in the suburbs, it was that the nicer something looks, more often than not, the more dangerous it was.
Even still, he approached the spire and pulled open its gates, once again being met with the familiar gust of wind that escaped it.
He stared at the insides of the spire for a few seconds; it was eerily familiar to the last one. However, something felt off.
'So… Are you gonna go in?' A familiar voice resounded.
Lucien flinched and looked at his shadow.
'How are you here?' he questioned internally.
"I am a part of you, am I not?" the shadow answered.
'Fine, do you at least know where we are?' he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.
"Why would I know anything? As a matter of fact, I'm just as confused as you are, if not more," the shadow replied, bringing its arms up to indicate its confusion.
Lucien simply stared at his shadow, dejected.
With that, he went in.
Once again, the door shut behind him, and a voice resounded. This one was deep and somber.
[Not speed, not strength, but stillness strikes.]
A black, shadowy longsword seemed to materialize from the ground and hovered in front of Lucien.
[A tempered edge, no need for spikes.]
'Am I supposed to fight something?' Lucien thought as he held the hilt of the sword.
[The Void consumes what flares, then likes.]
"WATCH OUT!" A voice loudly resounded in his head. Lucien felt something touch the back of his neck, and then, the world turned upside down. He got a feeling of weightlessness and felt as though he was floating, but then;
Lucien saw his own headless body, and the world turned dark.
[---You Have Died---]
Lucien screamed.
It was a wail of primal fear.
'Just a dream. It was just a dream,' Lucien thought to calm himself as he rubbed the back of his neck, his heart pounding from what had just occurred. He had already died once, but it wasn't this bad. Was it because he died differently? Was it because he was extremely deprived of sleep last time, or was dying in dreams just different?
"It wasn't a dream, in the literal sense" his shadow's voice resounded in his head.
'But that means…' The words died in Lucien's throat.
"Yes, technically you just died. I tried to warn ya," his shadow said in a careless tone.
Thankfully, the rooms were soundproofed, and his screams were unheard by the rest of the students at the institute.
Lucien was scared, but he was even more curious about his peculiar situation.
'Guess I'll try to figure this out later at the library.'
***
"Which leads us to believe that True Callings are granted to those who performed excellently in their Vestige of Selection. Any questions?"
Lucien found himself in a classroom—taking the introductory course for Bearers—who barely anyone took since most of them were elites who'd been taught since childhood—with one other person: a young boy, probably around his age, he was tall, not quite as tall as Lucien but he was unfairly handsome, with his cyan eyes and dark brown hair
'He's basically cheating at life!' Lucien exclaimed to himself, before returning his focus to the lecture
He was still subconsciously suppressing his shadow from speaking to prevent it from making any snarky remarks.
"How are Relics made, Professor Fig?" the boy asked.
"Well, Kim, there are two known sources of Relics. One is when they are granted by the Mark, and the other is when they are created by Bearers with the Mark of the Resonance Fragment."
"Is it possible for a Relic to not have a rank, professor?" Lucien asked, hoping to uncover why his relic was ranked unknown.
"That is quite a perplexing question, Lucien. It might be possible, but there are no known records of it."
Lucien's professor was a kind man who answered all his questions with great care. Although he was a bit on the shorter side—with his gray hair, wrinkled face, and tanned body—he treated Lucien with the same amount of respect that he did for every other student.
After class, Lucien went straight to the library, this time to read about The Threshold—something his professor had told him.
> The Threshold is a realm that exists on a different plane. Only some part of it is under human control, with the rest being largely inaccessible due to environmental concerns or due to an excess of dangerous Echoes.
Lucien shifted his weight 'It can't be that bad,' he muttered, before continuing to read
> It is only accessible to Bearers via Resonant Scars—cracks in the boundary between our world and the Threshold. Its source is unknown. However, it allows Bearers who step through it to travel to the Threshold.
Lucien felt a tap
"Lucien," Luna said, catching her breath. She was in the issued combat gear—which further accentuated her already prominent figure—sweat tracing her neck.
"Hey," he replied, polite as ever.
She smirked. "That it? No comment on the whole 'fought-a-mythic-echo' look?"
He glanced her over. "Training?"
"Combat class. You should try it sometime—might loosen you up."
He gave a faint shrug. "I'm not really combat oriented… for now"
A pause. Not awkward—not yet
"I'll let you get back to… whatever grim tome that is," she said, turning.
Then, over her shoulder, softly, she said
"Tell your shadow to stop staring."