The gray expanse was utterly still…
A stillness that felt like the moment before something new is born.
The Unknown One stood at the center of the void, haloed by slow-turning rings of light.
Each ring rotated against the other, as if he carried a private cosmos behind his back.
His voice drifted through the silence, calm and unhurried:
> "The true ascent begins now, Aryan.
You've fought countless enemies…
but you have never fought yourself,
nor understood what your essence truly is."
Aryan didn't move.
His eyes trembled with a tired honesty.
> "I have faced myself…
in the third trial, the seventh, even in the illusions memory created.
I'm done with inner battles.
I just want to understand."
The Unknown One smiled—
a faint, unreadable curve of the lips, somewhere between irony and pity.
> "You faced your shadow… not your self.
Listen, my heir—
the soul cannot be seen…
but it can be heard,
when everything else finally falls silent."
He lifted his hand.
The void rippled.
Silver threads unfolded around Aryan, circling him, weaving into his chest.
His heartbeat slowed… as if trying to hear.
> "What… is this?"
Aryan whispered.
The Unknown One answered softly:
> "Your inner voice.
The pulse binding your body to your spirit.
You've fought all your life with your blade…
but you've never once heard your own soul's tone.
Now… listen."
Silence swallowed everything.
And then he heard it—
a faint, sleeping note inside him.
With every breath, it grew clearer,
until it became a living pulse of light beneath his ribs.
> "Is this… my power?"
> "This is you."
Above them, a point of light formed—
shaping itself into Aryan's figure,
but drained of color, pale and gray.
> "Not an illusion," the Unknown One said.
"Your truth.
Every moment you fought in anger, fear, hesitation…
you wounded it.
If you want mastery… face it without fear.
Without excuses."
Aryan stepped toward his gray self.
Each step cut the air thinner.
> "I'm not here to fight you," he murmured.
"You're not my enemy."
But the gray reflection smiled with a distorted echo:
> "Then why have you spent your whole life trying to control me?"
It lunged.
Blades collided—
and the sparks weren't fire this time…
they were living gray light.
From afar, the Unknown One watched, his voice echoing like wind through an ancient temple:
> "The first technique… is Silence.
When anger quiets, the soul finally speaks."
Aryan stopped.
He lowered his weapon.
He chose not to strike.
And the world froze.
The gray figure halted.
The inner note inside him steadied—
one clear, calm tone.
No fear.
No doubt.
No struggle.
A burst of silver radiance erupted from his chest, washing through the void like the first sun after a long night.
> [Technique acquired: Tone of Stillness.]
[Allows temporary harmony between spirit and flesh.]
The Unknown One faded into the light, murmuring:
> "Well done, my heir.
From this point onward, each stage will reveal a deeper layer of your soul.
But remember…
knowledge is not power—
not unless you choose it."
Darkness dissolved.
The system's cold voice rang out:
> [Stage Eleven: Complete.]
[Internal energy recalibrated.]
[Prepare for Stage Twelve.]
Aryan opened his eyes, feeling weightless—
as if someone had lifted the world off his shoulders.
> "Tone of Stillness…
This is only the first step toward understanding who I am."