The mist had just begun to clear when Sentry raised a hand once more.
"Now," the construct said, its tone returning to that calm, measured cadence, "to begin, you must summon your Divine Weapon. Once you do that, I'll evaluate your current capabilities."
Indra blinked. "My what?"
"Every Velari is gifted a Divine Weapon to accompany their Divine Crest," Sentry explained. "Each is forged from your own essence—an extension of your will. It cannot be lost. It cannot be taken. But to wield it… you must summon it."
Indra shifted his footing slightly, adjusting to the feel of the radiant floor beneath him. "And how do I do that?"
"It's rather simple," Sentry replied. "Your divine energy responds to intention. If you desire the weapon in your hand… it will appear there."
Indra looked at his palm skeptically, then raised it slowly.
"That's it? Just… think about it?"
Sentry gave no reply—just watched.
"Sounds easy enough," Indra muttered.
He closed his eyes. The glow of the Void dimmed slightly around him, like the space itself was holding its breath. Indra focused—not on power, not on victory, but on one clear, unwavering desire:
Give me what I need to protect them.
A flicker of light sparked at his chest—right over his crest.
It spread quickly.
A golden shimmer pulsed outward like ripples on water, spreading through his veins, across his arms, into his fingertips. In a burst of divine radiance—two swords appeared. One in each hand. Weightless. Balanced. Alive.
Indra's eyes widened.
The blades shimmered with celestial brilliance. Their edges curved like wings of light, etched with ancient markings that glowed with soft white fire. Each sword hummed faintly in his grip, as if syncing to his pulse.
"Interesting," Sentry said, stepping forward slightly. "You have dual blades."
"Is that rare?" Indra asked, not taking his eyes off them.
"Quite. Dual summoning typically suggests a fractured spirit or an unshakable will. The latter is more favorable… but more dangerous, if left unchecked."
Indra grinned. "Guess we'll find out which one I am."
He spun the blades once, then again, feeling their pull and weight. They responded perfectly, like extensions of his own arms.
"Alright," he said, taking a ready stance. "Hope you're prepared."
"Yes," Sentry replied. "Attack when ready."
Without waiting, Indra surged forward. He moved fast, instinct leading the way, blades cutting through mist as he aimed a cross strike toward Sentry's side.
He never landed it.
In a single blur of motion, Sentry caught his shoulder, shifted its stance, and slammed Indra face-first into the glowing floor.
The entire Void echoed with the impact.
Indra groaned, muffled by the smooth surface beneath him.
"Owww…"
Behind him, Sentry's voice remained unchanged.
"It appears we must start from the basics. On your feet."
Indra rolled over, eyes squinting. But to his surprise, the pain was already gone—dispersed by the divine energy of the floor.
"Woah, it's like I never got hit." he muttered, pulling himself up. "Alright. I'm ready."
What followed… was chaos.
A relentless montage of punishment and failure. Indra was knocked down. Swept off his feet. Slammed, tripped, and thrown—again and again. Sentry moved like lightning, unrelenting and precise. Every strike from Indra was countered. Every mistake punished.
But with each fall… Indra rose.
With each failure… he learned.
His reflexes sharpened. His stance stabilized. His breathing fell into rhythm. He learned to dodge instead of block. To listen to Sentry's footwork. To lead with the left and feint with the right. Until, finally—he began to fight back.
His swords moved faster than before. Cleaner. Sharper.
His eyes began to mirror something new. Focus.
Outside the Infinity Void, not even a full minute had passed.
Gabriella stood just beyond the chamber entrance, arms folded across her chest, her long golden braid catching the light that shimmered faintly along the edges of the sacred doors. Her expression was calm but alert, one brow raised in mild curiosity as she tapped her foot against the polished floor.
"Huh…" she murmured. "He's taking longer than I thought."
Beside her stood Murre, hands clasped behind his back, a circular panel of divine glyphs hovering inches above his right palm. Lines of celestial code ticked upward in a language that only Velari could read.
Gabriella leaned slightly to peek. "How long has it been for him?"
Murre tilted the panel just enough for her to see. "Three thousand years."
Gabriella blinked. "Three thousand?!"
Her jaw fell open for a heartbeat before a grin pulled at the corner of her lips.
"He meant it when he said he was going to master everything…"
"This," Murre replied, his voice low and approving, "is a good sign."
Far from light, in a land drenched in eternal shadow, Lilith walked slowly along a broken ridge. Her long white dress trailed behind her like a banner of silence, whispering across scorched stone with each step. The ground was cracked and blackened, still warm from the fires of some long-dead war.
Beside her walked Nephthis. Her footsteps were soundless, as if the ground itself made way for her. She moved with eerie grace, her eyes forward, her expression as unreadable as the ruined landscape around them.
Above, the skies were torn and red—veins of black lightning streaking through the gloom. No stars. No sun. Only the slow, churning burn of a world that had long since forgotten light.
"Someone is coming," Nephthis said softly, her voice nearly lost to the stillness.
"I know," Lilith replied, her stride unbroken.
Up ahead, a cloaked man appeared, kneeling the instant she came into view. He dropped to the ground, one knee pressed into the ash, his head bowed low.
"Madam."
Lilith came to a stop before him. Her presence alone felt like a weight against the air.
Her voice was flat—but coldly cutting. "Why are you here and not in Partera?"
The man didn't lift his head. "My apologies. Taliyah showed up."
"And?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Hallel told me not to touch her."
Lilith paused.
"Really?" Her tone shifted subtly, a faint tilt of interest creeping in. She tilted her head. "He must have plans for her…"
She waved a hand dismissively, already done with the thought.
"Fine. I have another job for you anyway. Find the twins and report back."
"Yes, ma'am."
She turned without another word, the hem of her dress brushing ash into the windless air. Nephthis matched her pace beside her, gaze lingering on the horizon.
Back in the void, Indra stood tall.
Dust floated off his skin like mist as he exhaled slowly. His two swords crackled softly with divine energy. Across from him, Sentry stood in a relaxed but ready stance.
Indra rolled his shoulder and steadied his footing.
"Okay. One last time. I want you to go all out."
"As you wish," Sentry responded—and charged.
Outside, the door to the Infinity Void slowly swung open.
Gabriella turned, surprised. "Hey—you're finished!"
Murre raised an eyebrow. "Seems like you used your time well."
Indra stepped out.
He hadn't grown taller. His build was the same.
But everything else… had changed.
He moved with measured precision, not casual steps. His eyes were steady and focused, like looking through a calm storm. The air around him pulsed faintly, humming with divine stillness.
"It was good," Indra said simply. "I definitely needed it. I feel like… I can save the world now."
"Keep in mind," Murre said gently, "although you are much stronger now, Sentry is a created being. His strength doesn't measure up to higher-ranked Zehirah. And not even close to Hallel. So don't be reckless."
"Yeah, Sentry warned me," Indra said, glancing down at his hand. "That's why I learned everything I could from him."
"Good," Murre nodded. "Head back to the globe. I have your first assignment."
Gabriella motioned for Indra to follow, and they began walking together.
Murre stayed behind a moment longer.
He stared up at the training log, projected in light above the archway.
"…Am I mistaking the time he spent?" he murmured.
"You are not mistaken," Sentry said behind him. The being raised a glowing data panel.
The number shone clear:
6,673 years.
"So he really did spend 6,673 years in there…" Murre whispered. "I thought the prophecy had already shown itself. Interesting…"
Moments later, Murre joined them at the celestial globe—a massive, floating sphere of shimmering maps and glowing paths. Lines of light flickered across continents, tracking divine movement and dark forces alike.
"Alright, Indra," Murre said. "Your first assignment will be to introduce yourself and assist Kovaria and the Core. I know you may have questions, but Gabriella will accompany you and fill you in. Understood?"
Indra stepped forward with newfound conviction.
"Understood! We can leave right away!"
Murre glanced sideways at Gabriella, then back at Indra.
[That time in the void did wonders for him,] he thought, allowing a rare smile to touch his face.
"Perfect!" he said aloud.
"Wow, you're raring to go," Gabriella said with an impressed smile.
"Yeah! I want to do whatever I can to help out!"
Gabriella chuckled, eyes softening. She looked at him for a moment—longer than she meant to.
"…What?" Indra asked.
"Nothing." She smiled. "You ready?"
"Yup. Let's go!"
They turned and walked away together—two young Velari heading toward the first mission of what would become a war far bigger than either of them knew.
Murre remained behind.
He looked once more at the tenth statue in the chamber.
Indra's pedestal.
The light around it now burned brighter, more stable, and far more powerful than before.
"A strong will to help others, huh…" Murre said under his breath. He exhaled with quiet amusement.
"Hehe… so he really is the prophecy."