Ray had always felt the urge to help others not out of pure kindness, but because it gave him something deeper: recognition. A sense that he mattered.
And in a world like Lunes World, that feeling was addictive.
Ryan better known as Ray ,stood beside a towering statue in the city called Quacredi. A massive holographic board hovered above, its glowing letters flickering faintly against the skyline.
Weird name. No one can even pronounce it, he thought.
To the people of this city, Ray had become something of a hero. Not that he ever asked for attention or sympathy but he didn't exactly mind it either. Especially not after defeating something as ridiculous as a Turbo Spider.
The crowd roared around him, voices blending into one overwhelming wave of admiration.
"Now that you have saved this city, the Statue of the Elder shall grant you a reward," someone had told him earlier.
That's why he was here.
Ray tilted his head, studying the stone figure before him. An old man, carved in grey, with a long beard and a massive sword clutched in his hands. The craftsmanship was impressive-almost too lifelike. Everyone cheered for him while he was centre of attention.
Then, suddenly-
The statue opened its eyes.
Silence fell instantly. The crowd froze.
The stone figure moved with eerie fluidity—as it slowly knelt before Ray. Not in respect… but to offer the sword.
Ray raised an eyebrow, then took it anyway.
"The blade has been passed down to those worthy of wielding it," the statue spoke, its voice deep and hollow. "It has chosen you."
Ray stared at the weapon, then back at the statue.
"Oh… great," he said flatly. "So now I've been chosen… by a knife?"
A pause.
"It is not merely a knife," the statue replied. "It is the Blade of Aetherion. It hums when danger approaches."
Ray smirked. "Yeah, sounds more like a metal having a panic attack."
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
The statue remained still.
Does it not react? Ray stared at statue.
"This is an ancient relic," it continued. "Passed through generations of wielders—"
"So is my grandma's teapot," Ray interrupted. "You don't see me swinging that at people."
"You will understand its value… when you are in need."
With that, the statue rose back to its original position, eyes closing once morelifeless again.
And just like that, the moment ended.
The crowd, however, didn't stay quiet.
"Ungrateful brat!"
"He doesn't deserve it!"
"If you don't want it, give it to us!"
Ray turned slowly toward them, blinking.
"Really? You guys want it?"
Without hesitation, he tossed the sword into the crowd.
Chaos erupted instantly.
People shoved, yelled, and scrambled over one another, all trying to grab the so-called legendary blade.
Ray simply watched for a second… then shrugged.
"Yeah… I'm gonna go."
With a light jump, he leapt off the stage and climbed up onto a nearby rooftop. The noise below faded as he raised his hand.
A glowing green clock materialized in the air.
The time read: 08:24
He tilted it horizontally, stepped onto it without hesitation.
and the second hand began to tick.
The clock lifted, carrying him like a floating platform across the sky, leaving behind a trail of faint green sparks as he disappeared into the distance.
✦ ✦ ✦
Far away, in a dimly lit chamber…
A flickering orange glow danced along cold stone walls. Torches burned weakly, their flames struggling against the heavy air, thick with the scent of oil and dampness.
Tall pillars lined the hall, carved with ancient, fading symbols.
Each step echoed sharply.
Click.
Click.
Click.
A woman in black heels walked forward, her posture calm but purposeful. She stopped before a shadowed throne, where a man sat his figure barely visible, except for the faint purple glow of his eyes.
"Do you ever leave that chair?" she asked casually. "Doesn't your back hurt?"
The man frowned and then smirked, resting his face against his palm.
"Rachel… is that your real name?" he replied. "I saw your face on a wanted poster. Quite flattering, don't you think?"
Rachel didn't smile.
"You were the one who asked me to kill Thomas," she said coldly. "That makes you responsible."
"Ah," he nodded. "But I asked for a quiet execution. You, however… lack subtlety."
"He was a politician," she snapped. "Surrounded by security at all times. I didn't have the luxury of planning. Now I have to leave the city."
The man leaned back slightly, unfazed.
"Well… he's dead. And deservedly so."
He threatened players from Lunes World real-world deaths, contract assassins…hired them to kill people participating in arson" His voice darkened. "If anything, you did the world a favor."
.
Rachel crossed her arms but said nothing.
"But death isn't always the end here, is it?" he added quietly. "If he existed in Lunes World… he may still exist somewhere.Your job is done," the man continued. "You're free to leave Valyrix. Though I'd suggest stay in the organisation. There's power here. Money.And what not"
Rachel turned away.
"No," she said sharply "I'll go solo for the rest of my journey"
"May I ask where are you off to?"
She paused briefly.
"I'm looking for the Fantasy Weaver. Luminara and Deinsberg are on the verge of war. And if Alaric is involved… things won't stay quiet for long."
Without another word, she walked away.
As she passed each pillar, the torches extinguished one by one plunging the hall into darkness.
The man watched her leave the chamber, a faint smile forming.
"Well then…" he muttered.
He stood up slowly, stretching his arms.
"I suppose there's no need for the throne anymore."