N.B : If you'd like to get early access to the next 8 chapters of Universal hope (Chapter 9-16) Chapter 9 (Wasteland seeds), Chapter 10 (The weight of promises), Chapter 11 (When Jade meets steel blue), Chapter 12 (Eyes in the dark), Chapter 13 (Eyes in the day) and Chapter 14 (Fissures), Chapter 15 (The hollowing) and Chapter 16 (Night of terror) + Doodle drawing of Eren's diamondhead and fourarms form why not consider supporting me at Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom. Your donations will be very much appreciated. I'm aiming to get 20 paid members before the end of this year, help me make this possible!
Heads-up: Things are about to escalate here from second half of this chapter. Hopefully not too confusing as most of these is for future arcs, they're just foreshadowings!
"Forgive me, even if you never remember this."
"…sorry for every… I know… wrong."
"…shouldn't… carry this…"
"…wish… another way."
"…if you don't….̴̴͠͝e̸̔v̷͝e̵̕r̸̔y̴͝o̵̕n̸̔e̶̸͝͠w̵̔i̴͝l̷̕l̶̸͠͠d̵̔i̷͝e̸̕.̴͝"
"F̷̔o̴͝r̵̕g̸̔i̴͝v̵̕e̶̷̔͝m̸̔e̴͝,̶̸̕͠m̵̔y̴̵̕͝s̸̔o̷͝n̴̕.̷͠ Live…h̸̔o̴͝w̵̕e̸̔v̷͝e̵̕r̶̴͠͝y̵̔o̷͝u̴̸̕͠… only wish now."
"…promise… someday… understand."
"Y̸̔o̴͝u̵̸̕͠w̵̔i̴͝l̵̕l̶̷̔͠b̸̔e̴̴͝͠/̵̔h̴͝u̵̕n̸̔t̴͝e̵̕d̶̔/̷͠.̶̕.̸͠.̴̵͠͠ hated... ̸͠n̵̔e̴͝v̵̕e̸̔r̴̵͝͠b̸̔e̴̸͝͠a̵̔l̴͝o̵̕n̸̔e̶͝... promise…"
"..Stronger than y̸o̸u̸̸k̸n̸o̸w̸, Eren…me."
"…n̵̔o̴͝t̵̸̕͠a̵̴̔͠/̸̔w̴͝e̵̕a̸̔p̴͝o̵̕n̶̔/̷͠.̶̸̕͠ m̵̔y̴̵̕͝s̸̔o̴͝n̵̕.̶̷͠͠I̵̴̔͝l̵̕o̸̔v̴͝e̵̸̕͠y̵̔o̴͝u̵̕,̴͠ …Eren."
"Rest now, Father….Your part is over."
"-ren, Eren!"
A gasp escaped Eren's lips as he abruptly woke up from his sleep. The gasping breath left his lungs ragged, as if he'd drowned in something deeper than water. Sweat clung to his skin like a second layer. Eren sat up sharply in the small cot tucked into the corner of the small tent, heartbeat thundering in his ears. The tent was dim, lit only by the filtered early afternoon sun bleeding through the canvas. Dust hung in the air like ghosts.
"A dream…?" Eren murmured to himself, his voice coming out raspy. The dream—no, the voices— still echoed inside him, but they were already slipping away, leaving only fragments:
"Forgive me..."
"Live..."
"You will be hunted...not a weapon. You're my son."
That was…father's voice. And some other person. Eren clutched it head, it felt like he should know. But can't place his head around it. Just a dream. Just him. Eren shuddered, rubbing his face; and froze.
Wait.
No bandages.
His fingers traced smooth skin where deep gashes should have been. Then his right arm, once shattered and in bandages, flexed without pain. Even the bruises from his battle with the armored titan were gone.
What the hell...?
His trembling fingers ran along his face again, brushing along his jaw, his cheekbone. No bandages. No pain. Then to his right arm, again. It Flexed. Gripped. No stiffness. He remembered the searing pain of his broken arm, the bite of the Titan's jaw, the mangled mess of muscle and bone.
But now…
Nothing.
No bandages. No sling. Just pale, unblemished skin.
"…What…?"
It was… whole.
Eren's breath hitched in panic.
"No… no, no, no—this… this isn't right—"
He clutched his wrist, pressing hard as if bruises would reappear if he just tried. But his skin was smooth, unmarred. Not even a scratch from where jagged rubble had shredded his forearm. The boy backed further into the bed, broken ribs expecting to grate along his inner muscles. But his body didn't resist. No pain shot through his spine. No fire shot through his injured limb as it was supposed to.
His face—whole.
His right arm—unbroken.
His body—healed.
"What is happening to me…" he whispered in tremor, staring at his fingers as if they weren't his. The green glow on his wrist caught his eye. The strange device embedded on his arm, still dormant, yet dimly pulsing, like it too had… breathed.
Panicked, Eren scrambled to rewrap discarded bandages near the bad around his face and arm, hands shaking. If anyone saw this, it'll—
The tent flap rustled.
Mikasa stood there, holding a bucket of water, most likely for him.
Their eyes locked.
Mikasa's gaze dropped to the fresh bandages clutched in his hands, then to his fully healed arm mid-motion.
The bucket fell off her hands, spilling its' content on the ground. Eren barely had time to react before Mikasa all but tackled him in a hug, kneeling beside his bed.
"Eren!"
"…Mikasa?"
Mikasa didn't let go, her grip only tightened, arms trembling around him, her forehead pressed against his shoulder like she was afraid he'd. "You're awake." Mikasa said; her voice thin and shaking. Eren's breath hitched; not from pain; but this time for a different reason. He raised his arms instinctively to hug back… and froze again. Eren didn't know what to do. His fingers curled into the blanket instead. "How long was I out?" he finally murmured.
"…You were out for four days." Mikasa's voice broke. "We thought you wouldn't wake up again." Eren blinked at the revelation, heart twisting. Four days. That was double the days he was unconscious. Not with how his body looked now. Not with how he felt at the moment. He should still be on death's edge.
"I'm fine," he lied. "Just… sore." He raised an arm as if to prove the lie, forcing himself not to flinch as Mikasa finally pulled back to look at him. Her eyes immediately swept over his body.
No sling.
No bruising.
No bandages.
Just fresh white cloth awkwardly tied around his elbow and jaw, clearly self-wrapped—and poorly. Her lips pressed together in a thin line.
"…Eren," she said slowly. "Where are your wounds?" He looked away. "They… must've healed fast."
Mikasa's brows furrowed. "Broken arms don't heal in less than a week. You were unconscious and feverish just 3 days ago. Your body was overwhelmingly warm, too warm in fact."
"I'm just lucky," Eren mumbled, shifting away slightly. "Don't make a big deal out of it." But Mikasa didn't answer. Instead, her hand gently touched the side of his face, brushing against the cheek that had been torn open days ago. Now flawless. She whispered, more to herself than to him, "When you were first treated…They said you shouldn't have survived. Your pulse was weak. You weren't breathing right…"
Eren's fists clenched at his sides. He looked down, feeling like a stranger in his own skin. "I shouldn't have." Mikasa looked up sharply. "Don't say that."
"You know it's the truth Mikasa," Eren snapped, voice tight. "This device. The creatures I can turn into. And now this…That… that isn't normal. A normal person can't do that…" There was abrupt silence after those words came out from Eren's lips. Eren wasn't really angry. He was just frustrated, confused…and scared.
"You're alive," Mikasa said softly, breaking the silence. "That's what matters."
"Is it?" Eren asked, quieter this time. "What if this thing on my wrist is the only reason I'm here? What if I'm not me anymore?" Mikasa opened her mouth to respond, but Armin stepped in through the flap, panting slightly, clutching ration breads in his arms tightly.
"Mikasa! I've got bread rations, my grandpa—!" He stopped dead when he saw Eren sitting up, arms bare. No sign of bandages. And awake. His face shifted between awe and confusion.
"Eren, you… You're okay?" Armin asked, voice hopeful but cautious. Eren forced a smile. "Absolutely okay."
Armin moved closer, eyes narrowing at the absence of injuries. He didn't say anything at first, just slowly approached Eren's bed, trying to piece things together. His gaze fell on the Omnitrix, still glowing faintly green.
"I think this thing healed me," Eren finally admitted under his breath. "Like, all the way." Armin's eyes widened. "That… that makes sense. I saw it pulsing during your coma—
"I didn't ask for it," Eren muttered. "It just did it. Without permission. I didn't… earn this."
"You didn't have to," Armin said quietly. "You're alive. That's all that matters right now." Eren looked down his now uninjured arm. Mikasa and Armin were just saying the same thing to reassure him, but truth be told, the feeling wasn't mutual to him.
"You've barely eaten," Mikasa said, sitting beside him, refusing to let him pull away. "Are you hurting anywhere?" Eren hesitated. His eyes flicked down to his arm again. Then to Mikasa's soft gaze. She was tired. Her scarf hung loosely around her neck. Her fingers trembled faintly; she'd probably slept minimally to watch him. He forced a smile. "No. Just… sore. Nothing serious."
Before anybody could leave the tent, Armin spoke up again, but his tone came out thoughtful and serious. "We have to rewrap you," Armin said plainly.
Eren blinked. "…What?"
"Your wounds," Armin gestured to Eren's body, "or at least, what everyone thinks should be there. If anyone outside this tent sees you walking around fully healed, they'll panic. They'll ask questions. Questions we can't answer. Not yet. Think about it. A broken arm can barley heal in just under 6 days. Not even in a week's time."
Mikasa nodded grimly. "There's been tension lately around the refugee camp since you were not awake, there's been military police soldiers roaming around the camp too often than usual. You healing from those injuries in six days? That would be too suspicious to dismiss."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"If you go out there right now, no pain, no limp, no sling?" Armin continued. "People will start whispering. Doctors, maybe even the Military Police. They might lock you up. Study you. Fear you."
Mikasa's jaw clenched at that. She'll never let that happen to Eren. Not under her watch.
"So…" Armin kneeled by the bed and began collecting the discarded wrappings Eren had scrambled to grab. "We're going to make it look like nothing's changed. You'll act like you're still hurt. Wrap your jaw, keep the sling. Walk slow."
Eren hesitated, swallowing hard. "That's… lying." But Armin shook his head. "It's surviving," Armin replied. "Just for now." He gently handed the strips of linen back to Eren. "You don't have to do this alone. We'll help you." Mikasa was already moving to wrap the bandages around Eren's elbow again. "Let us protect you this time."
Eren looked down at his hands; hands that should be broken, bleeding, trembling; but weren't. Slowly, he nodded.
"Okay."
Eren didn't say it out loud, but for some reason…why does it feel like something else was in play here? That didn't seat right with him at all. That gnawed at him. He remembered a hand. The faint shape of a figure. Green… and black…
But more than anything, he remembered the words from that dream.
"...I'm not a weapon…"
_______________
Outside the Tent, Refugee Camp
The sky was dull gray with thin sunlight peeking through the clouds. The refugee camp was a sea of misery. Starving families huddled under makeshift shelters while a child wailed for bread. Eren sat on the outskirts of the refugee line, where people gathered rations—bread, dried vegetables, water. The air was tense with grief and exhaustion, soldiers moved between crowds, issuing orders, avoiding eye contact if needed. Eren walked slower than usual, wrapped in a borrowed coat and bandages as refugees bustled to collect food portions from military wagons. He stuck to the edges, trying to ignore the way people's voices hushed when he passed. It was unsettling to see a child this 'injured'. Nearby, two MPs sneered at a limping elder.
"I still don't get why we're feeding those damned refugees."
The second military police officer leaned against a wagon, scoffing. "Tch. More mouths to feed. Should've let the Titans cull the weak. The less the better."
"Right? Why'd these ones get to live?"
Eren froze. He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. His fists clenched so tight, his healed knuckles went white. Using the clutch he was holding onto, he made his way to towards the soldiers.
"Say that again." Eren snarled in a low voice. The two MPs turned, clearly not expecting anyone to confront them. The older one raised a brow.
"You got a problem, brat?"
Eren's voice was a low, cracked thing. "You think we wanted to run? That we chose to lose our homes?" The first MP smirked. "Didn't see any of you on the frontlines when Wall Maria fell."
"Don't." Mikasa's hand closed gently around Eren's wrist, having followed Eren the moment the sensed what he was about to do, Armin following close behind as well. Her voice was calm, but dangerous. But Eren wasn't listening. "You think I didn't lose anything?" he barked. "You think we wanted to be shoved into these tents while you sit behind stone walls?!"
"Eren," Armin tried, "let it go—"
"My mother survived," Eren snarled. "She survived, and we still had to watch people starve and die around us. You have no idea what you're talking about!" The second, younger MP scoffed. "Maybe she should've stayed behind. One less mouth to feed."
Before Mikasa could stop him, Eren was ready to surge forward, ready to clobber the bastard. That was until a familiar figure came in view, placing a hand in front of Eren and the MPs. "Come on lads. Now's not the time to be throwing a ruckus."
A grizzled hand landed on Eren's shoulder, slightly keeping a good distance between the angered preteen and the Military police officers. The old man's grip was firm, his voice a low rumble that carried the weight of decades surviving behind the Walls. It was Armin's grandfather.
"Easy, son," Grandpa Arlet murmured, his eyes flicking to the MPs with a look that was neither hostile nor submissive; just weary. "These lads are just tired. Long shifts guarding ungrateful nobles' wine cellars while we starve."
The older MP's face twisted. "Watch your tongue, old man." Grandpa Arlet chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He kept his body angled slightly in front of Eren, a human shield. "Aye, I'll watch it. Same way you're watching these refugees instead of helping 'em." He nodded toward a nearby family; a mother trying to soothe a crying infant with no milk. "But by all means, keep arguing with a half-dead boy. Real heroic."
The younger MP's face reddened, but his partner grabbed his arm. "Forget it. Waste of time." They stalked off, but not before the older one shot a lingering glance at Eren's bandaged face.
A beat of silence followed as the MPs disappeared. Then Grandpa Arlet turned his attention to Eren. "Eren." He said, his voice dropping so only the trio could hear. "You've got your mother's temper and your father's stubbornness. A damn dangerous combo." His gaze flicked to the Omnitrix, half-hidden under Eren's sleeve. "Especially now."
Eren stiffened. He knew what Armin's Grandpa was implying about.
Grandpa Arlet eyed some other set of MPs that were going around the refugee camp, and they seemed more…vigilant? Like they were looking for something. He eyed Eren's poorly wrapped "injuries," then sighed. "Let's get you three back to Carla before you dig a deeper grave."
The trio nodded and began walking as Grandpa Arlet followed behind, not before side eying the MPs lurking around, quickly averting his gaze as one turned to him.
"I don't like what's going on. This can't be good." The old man thought to himself as he lowered his hat.
_______________
The path to the medical tents was lined with refugees; hollow-eyed; whispering.
"That's the kid with severe injuries…"
"He's a lot more injured than I thought…"
"His face… poor thing…"
Eren kept his head down, but his fists clenched. Poor thing. Like he was some helpless victim. Like he hadn't fought. Mikasa's hand brushed his elbow, a silent steady. Grandpa Arlet walked ahead, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. Armin noticed how tense his grandpa was ever since unexpected numbers of Military police officers have been patrolling the refugee camp. He had a hypothesis on what this was all about, but he wanted to be sure. Armin stepped closer to his grandfather's side, voice hushed. "Grandpa… do you think the MPs are here…because of the rumors about—"
"A crystal monster that fought the armored titan?" Grandpa Arlet finished dryly. "Aye. Heard the rumors…Best we'd keep our heads down." Silence resurfaced as they reached their intended destination.
Carla's tent was smaller than the others, tucked near the edge of camp. The moment Eren pushed the flap aside, she moved; crutches completely forgotten; lurching forward with a gasp.
"Eren!"
He barely had time to brace before she crushed him in a hug, her trembling fingers carding through his hair. Her body shook against his as she held him tightly, desperately, like she thought she might lose him again. "You're awake," she choked. "You didn't wake up for 4 days straight. I was so scared. I-I thought I lost you," she whispered into his shoulder.
Eren froze at the touch. Then, slowly, he buried his face in her shoulder. She smelled like antiseptic and sweat, but underneath…home.
"Sorry, Mom," he mumbled.
Carla pulled back, cupping his face. Her thumbs traced the edges of his bandages, her eyes searching. "Are you okay?"
No. I'm not human anymore. I heard a Titan speak. I'm hearing dad's voice in my dream. And I'm terrified of what this device is turning me into.
"Yeah," he lied.
Carla's gaze flicked to her son's ear. It's red.
He's lying.
"…Eren," Carla pressed with a stern yet concerned voice this time. "Are you really okay? That question lingered longer.
Eren looked down at his hands. At his healed skin. At the mark that shimmered faintly under his sleeve; the Omnitrix, now dim.
"I…I don't know," he said honestly. "I think… I heard my father," Eren whispered. "He was talking to me. Saying goodbye."
Mikasa and Armin looked at each other. Grandpa Arlet had been quiet the whole time.
Carla sat down beside him, cautious and worried. "Eren… that might've been your brain trying to make sense of what has happened to you. The trauma. The Titan. Maybe even—"
"No mum." Eren's voice was firmer now. "This wasn't just some dream. He said something about being hated… hunted… but not alone."
He looked down at the device on his wrist.
"Everything else after that, felt…foggy."
Silence. Outside, the rustle of carts and murmuring of displaced citizens carried in on the breeze. Carla's hands stilled on Eren's shoulders. Her breath caught as a glint of metal peeked out from beneath his collar; a flash of silver against his flushed skin.
That shape...
Her fingers moved before she could think, brushing aside the fabric with a mother's practiced gentleness. The key; Grisha's key; hung from a thin leather cord around Eren's neck, its teeth dulled by time but its weight unmistakable.
This is the key to the basement…
"Eren," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Where did you get this?"
Eren blinked, confused, before looking down. His own fingers touched the key as if seeing it for the first time. "Wha- when did I…" Eren stared at it in stunned silence. "This wasn't here before."
Mikasa leaned closer, her sharp eyes narrowing. "That's... the basement key."
Carla's hands hovered, uncertain. Her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. Then she looked at Eren, her voice a hush of disbelief. "I remember your father leaving with the key before heading for his business trip. I'm sure he wore it…how did it get here?..."
Grandpa Arlet cleared his throat. "Carla, we've got trouble brewing…"
_______________
Four days ago…
The candle-lit Reiss chapel, hidden deep beneath the surface of a remote forested region. Night has fallen. The tremors of war still echo faintly in the stone walls, and tension hangs like smoke in the dim air.
A young woman with long lush onyx hair knelt before the old chapel's altar, her white cloak brushing the floor. Her glowing purple eyes were distant, seeing through time, memories, and blood. This was Frieda Reiss, the true queen of the walls.
"Walls… fall again. The sin we built upon... crumbles with it." Frieda whispered to herself. Footsteps echo behind her. Rod Reiss; her father; emerged from the tunnel entrance, his expression grim.
"They've come. Titans breached Wall Maria. Shiganshina is lost. The entire of wall Maria is done for. Trost will follow next."
Frieda barely reacted to the news as she kept kneeling down. "Yes. I felt it. Their cries... they still echo in here." She said, placing a hand on her chest.
"We must act. You must act. This is our moment to remind the people that only the Reiss line can protect them. The government is in disarray. The nobles squabble like dogs. We need you to show them strength." Rod said walking closer, his expression more agitated by the minute. He grabbed hold of her shoulder, hoping she would pay full attention to him.
"And what does strength mean to you, father?" Frieda said quietly, the glow of her eyes more prominent. "Titan jaws tearing more flesh? More minds twisted by false peace?"
Rod tightened his grip on her shoulder. "Don't speak in riddles now. We don't have the luxury of philosophy. The people need order. Hope. They need their queen." Rod's voice faltered as Frieda turned to face him fully.
"What hope do we give them when we lie about the walls, about history, about everything? Do you want me to parade their ignorance as mercy again?"
Rod sighed. This wasn't getting anywhere. "There is something else. A new Titan was seen. Not from Marley. Not from here. Crystalline green, like diamond. It fought the Armored Titan. And almost won. It was… monstrous, but controlled. Precise. The garrisons have already begun calling it the Wall Guardian." His voice laced with desperation.
Frieda's eyes widened slightly. "…It wasn't born of this world. Just like that one in the chapel."
Rod's face turned to a grim expression. "Then you understand why we must exterminate it. The people will ask questions. If we don't control the story, someone else will. Perhaps we say it is a demon in Titan's form. A harbinger meant to awaken havoc within the walls."
Frieda looked at her father with a steely look. "I won't be your symbol of control."
Rod became frustrated with Frieda's answers. "Then you doom us! Do you think the King's vow will protect you when our enemies are no longer men or even Titans, but something beyond comprehension?"
A moment of tense silence followed. Nobody daring to say a word. Until Frieda broke the silence.
"There was a boy… I couldn't see his face, only… green light. He is at the center of all this. Not Marley. Not the church. Him. A boy who bears the burden of a world not his own.
This got Rod Reiss intrigued. "What boy?"
"His name… I couldn't hear it. He carries more than the Founding Titan's memories. More than blood. Something alien. Something ancient." Frieda said more to herself.
________________
Later that night, Frieda sat alone in her royal chambers. She opened a hidden journal and begins writing: notes on the Obsidian Titan, the fractured paths, and her dread.
"If what I felt is true… then even the Founding Titan may become meaningless soon. There is something in that green light I do not understand. A signal, a code, a design never meant for us. We are no longer the center of this story."
The next day…
Rod Reiss became increasingly agitated the moment he heard those words from Frieda. What truly unsettles him, however, is the appearance of this new Titan; the crystal titan which clearly wasn't part of the Reiss' inherited memories or royal bloodline. He was determined to reassert control before the people begin rallying behind this unknown protector. Sitting across him were some high-ranking officials and nobles of whom he trusts. The candlelight cast deep shadows across Rod's face; all occupants were deep within the Interior MP Headquarters.
"You understand the implications now. There're titans among us now, thanks to the colossal and armored titan breaching wall Maria. A new one though, has never been seen before. One the people already call the Crystal titan. We cannot allow this... anomaly to go unchecked." Rod said, surveilling every reaction of the officials seated.
A noble was hesitant however. "This crystal Titan—Obsidian I mean—defended the wall. It fought against the armored one. Rumors are already spreading fast, the people are already calling it a hero."
"So did they once call the devils within the Walls heroes. And look what it wrought." Rod said coldly.
"Do we know who controls it?" An MP officer asked. Rod shook his head in negative response. "Not yet. But we will. Begin surveillance on all remaining Shiganshina refugees. That aberrant must have surely slipped into the walls, there's no way it can just disappear like that."
Mumurs and glances were exchanged among everyone present. "Shouldn't we be focusing on looking for the armored and colossal titan users as well? Or is this-?"
"Those can wait." Rod curtly interrupted. "As of now, our focus must be on this creature. It's just too dangerous to be let loose. Far smaller than an average titan, yet from reports, it's easily more lethal. It might not even be a titan in fact; it could be something…worse."
A noble raised his eyebrows in confusion. "If this is what I think it is. Why not leave it to those Knights of yours?"
The noble's question hung in the air like a blade unsheathed. Rod Reiss' lips thinned, fingers steepled before him. Before he could answer, a shadow detached itself from the corner of the room; a figure cloaked in midnight blue, his presence unnoticed until now.
A man who was tall, broad-shouldered, having almond hair streaked with silver tied back in a warrior's knot. A thick beard, neatly trimmed, framed a face weathered by battles unseen. His cloak; deep indigo with silver embroidery; swayed as he moved, revealing glimpses of polished armor beneath: a breastplate etched with the Reiss crest, vambraces lined with alien glyphs and an infinity symbol. But it was his eyes that unsettled the room: pale gold, like a predator's yet brimming with a charisma that made men lean in whenever he spoke.
"There will be no rash action," The almond haired man said, his voice a calm thunder as he stepped into the candlelight. "Not until we confirm what this 'Obsidian' truly is."
The nobles stiffened. One MP officer scoffed. "And who are you to dictate—?" Aldric's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. The air crackled. Rod raised a hand, silencing the room. "Sir Aldric and his knights has served the Reiss bloodline since the beginning of the titan wars. In other words, over 100years now. His knights answer only to me." His gaze swept the table. "If you doubt his authority, you doubt mine."
A beat of silence. That-That's impossible, this man has been alive for over a century???
"If it is the same creature from the chapel," Aldric continued, fingers tracing the pommel of his blade, "then I will finish what I started."
With a hiss of steel, he drew his sword.
SHING.
The sword hissed as it slid from its sheath. The blade was like no ordinary steel. Gleaming silver, yet unnervingly dark around the edges, as though the light itself refused to linger on it. Runes pulsed dimly along its fuller. The nobles recoiled; not from fear; but from something deeper. Instantaneous terror. This was no ordinary steel. The air itself warped around it, as if the sword cut reality just by existing.
Aldric's golden eyes gleamed in the weapon's eerie light. "I carved shards off from a very similar creature's body yesterday night. If this 'Obsidian' is the same abomination that defiled our sacred grounds—" He flipped the blade, its edge singing. "—then it will learn why humanity's wrath outlives the stars."
Rod Reiss turned his attention back to all the shaken nobles and officials present. "Gentlemen, this is Sir Aldric; leader of the Forever Knights."
Chapter 9-16: Chapter 9 (Wasteland seeds), Chapter 10 (The weight of promises), Chapter 11 (When Jade meets steel blue), Chapter 12 (Eyes in the dark), Chapter 13 (Eyes in the day), Chapter 14 (Fissures), Chapter 15 (The hollowing) and Chapter 16 (Night of terror) are already available on Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom. I'm aiming to get 20 paid members before the end of this year, help me make this possible!