The sky cracked open.
From the clouds above the Forbidden Quarter, tendrils of black lightning spiraled downward like a noose around the ancient temple. Time itself rippled as the world held its breath.
Inside the chamber, the girl clutched the boy's hand, her silver eyes wide and glowing with panic.
"He's coming. A Soul Hunter—one of the first.""He'll burn your root from the inside out unless we're bound!"
The boy's breathing slowed. His mind, though turbulent, was starting to sharpen—like steel being hammered under pressure.
"You said if we bind… I die if you die."
"Yes. But it also means I can channel your root flame. We'll be stronger—together."
"And if I say no?"
"You'll die in the next minute anyway. Alone."
She pressed her free hand to his chest. Her voice grew steady, low, and strangely soft.
"Don't make me beg. Not this time."
A moment passed.
He nodded.
"Do it."
[Binding Initiated – Root Connection Ritual: Soul Thread Weave]
Warning: High volatility. One error may cause total memory collapse.
The air turned silver-blue.
The mark on his arm burned—glowing brighter than ever before as twisting red-gold threads emerged from the flame. From her palm, a web of silver threads unfurled.
They intertwined.
Pain.Memories.Visions not just of their past lives—but potential futures.
In one, they stood atop a burning sect, blades drawn.In another, they sat beneath a tree, holding hands as the world shattered around them.
"He's here," she whispered, as the ritual reached its climax.
"Then let's meet him."
The threads latched. A pulse echoed across the temple.
Outside…
The air split. A shape stepped through the crack between realms.
He wore no armor. No robes.
Just a long, ragged cloak made from skin—each piece branded with a name that no longer existed.
His eyes were black holes with spiraling runes, and from his back sprouted blades forged from forgotten lives—each one wailing faintly.
"Found you, Origin Root," he whispered.
The wind around him forgot how to blow.
Even the rain that had been falling for days stopped midair, droplets suspended like glass marbles.
"You weren't supposed to awaken this soon."
The Soul Hunter stepped forward.
"Time to unmake you."
Inside the temple…
The girl gasped, blood running from her nose.
"He's suppressing the flame! He's targeting your soul signature!"
"Then let him try."
The boy raised his palm.
For the first time, he didn't feel like a blank slate. Something was growing. Something ancient. The flame within him stirred—wilder, hotter.
"Root Technique: Ember Recall!"
He snapped his fingers.
The Soul Hunter froze—his body glitching, flickering.
And then… his last memory played before them.
A tall man kneeling in front of a child.
"Please… don't erase me. I remember the names. I can still serve."
The child smiled. A girl—with silver eyes. Her.
"Then give me the name of the Origin Root."
The man trembled.
"I… I don't know it."
"Then you're useless."
She raised a hand. White flame surged.
The man screamed as his own past was devoured, one memory at a time.
The Soul Hunter had once been a loyal guardian.
Until she erased him.
Back in the present, the Soul Hunter howled, clutching his head.
"You… made me remember! You filth!"
He launched forward, blades shrieking as they cut into the air—each slash erasing chunks of reality itself.
The girl staggered.
"He's unraveling the temple! We can't fight him like this!"
"Then give me control."
"Of what?"
"Your memories."
She froze.
"You don't even know who you are."
"Maybe. But I know who I don't want to be."
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Try not to break anything important."
He stepped forward, roots on his arm glowing brighter.
"Soul Hunter!" he shouted. "I may not know my name… but I know this."
The mark pulsed once.
The world shook.
"I was the first flame. The one who remembered when the world was born.""And you? You're just a shadow of what she made you."
The Soul Hunter roared, blades striking down—
CLANG!
He blocked the strike with nothing but his palm—now glowing with a brand-new glyph.
"New Ability Awakened: Memory Root Seal – Nullify one soul-based attack per day."
The Hunter stumbled.
"Impossible…"
"Tell your masters," the boy whispered. "I'm done forgetting."
The roots on his arm grew.
Not downward.
Upward. Toward the sky.