The fissure stretched wider, its glow spilling into the void like liquid memory. Je peered into it, and what he saw nearly unraveled his mind.
Thousands of names. Thousands of voices.
— Failed. Failed. Failed.
Each syllable clawed at his skull, a chorus of broken wills. They weren't just echoes — they were fragments of those who bore the System before him. Devourers who had tried, and perished.
His breath slowed. So I am not the first.
The thought both comforted and cursed him. If others failed, it meant the path was nearly impossible. But if they failed… it also meant the System chose again, and again, until the right vessel appeared.
The ground beneath him pulsed. The whispers grew sharper, heavier.
— He watches. He measures. He waits.
Je froze. Who?
The fissure darkened, swallowing its own light. Slowly, a hand clawed upward from the abyss. Not flesh. Not bone. A hand made of shadows, dripping with silence.
It did not attack. It simply reached, as if inviting Je to take it.
His instincts screamed. Hunger gnawed at him, demanding he devour it. But another feeling — one he rarely trusted — whispered caution.
If he touched it, what would be devoured: the shadow… or himself?
The System flickered.
— Hidden Quest: "The Choice of Hands." Accept?
Je clenched his fists. His heart pounded. Somewhere above, the broken stars dimmed further, as though the entire cosmos was waiting for his answer.
And for the first time, Je felt the weight of destiny pressing down.
This was no hunt. This was the test of a Devourer's soul.