The sun was beaming scorching the land.
A proud overweight man stood with a air of nobility around him.
"Poor boy."
He adjusted his gold monocle, on the boy being slowly being crushed beneath a pile of junk and scrap.
He pondered inspect the young boy touching him and moving his loose joints.
At first glance, one might assume the man was of noble birth or held some high status.
His fine brown suit was smooth and well-fitted, his demeanour composed, almost indifferent to the scene before him.
With a measured voice, he spoke. "You will be useful."
Reaching out, pulling the boy out with surprising gentleness.
From inside his jacket, he retrieved a small leather satchel.
As he unfastened it slightly, a mystifying glow seeped out.
Clink.
He snapped it shut immediately, standing still as an eerie silence filled the air.
A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he darted his eyes side to side calmly
"Merely scrap," he muttered.
Grabbing a handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbing his forehead with it.
Breathing out by calming his nerves he puts hit handkerchief back and reopens the satchel.
This time allowing the white light to fully emerge.
Bending he carefully, took the boy's frail hand and guided it inside.
The glow rapidly enveloped the child's entire body.
Zip.
The boy vanished in an instant into the satchel.
A satisfied grin crept onto the man's face as he readjusted his monocle.
He straightened dusting him self off a bit while letting out a contented hum before whistling a cheerful tune, his chest puffed out as he strode toward the junkyard's entrance.
He closed his eyes and spoke in a monotone voice. "Arceus."
For a moment, nothing.
The land around the junkyard was barren, no life, no songs of the forest, only silence and the distant sound of sizzling air.
Then, faint galloping.
A distant small black shadow appeared in the distance, dust kicking up behind it. As the sound grew louder, so did the cloud of dust and rocks following it.
Within moments, it arrived, halting just before the man.
"Arceus, how was your run?" he asked casually.
The massive horse grunted, steam snorting from its nostrils.
"Next time, hopefully, you get to go even longer, aye?"
He chuckled, patting the beast's thick neck. Arceus stood at an imposing 219.7 cm, its bulky frame adorned with a mane of light grey and gold, contrasting against its deep ash-coloured coat.
Struggling at first due to his round belly, the man eventually hoisted himself onto Arceus' back. "Giddy up!" he commanded, digging his heels in. "Full speed, Arceus! We must return at once."
The steed took off like a bolt of lightning, kicking up dirt and stones, the sheer force denting the ground beneath its hooves.
Time passed, and evening fell. The sky swelled with dark, thick and churning clouds.
"Looks like rain again... it's been falling so frequently lately." The man sighed.
Arceus neighed, signaling their approach.
"Ah...Almost there, I see."
As they arrived, the first raindrops began to fall. The mansion before them was grand.
The door alone towering over the man.
He lived in solitude, surrounded by wealth, with only his horse as a companion.
"Arceus, head to the stables and stay inside a thunderstorm might start."
Dismounting, he entered his home, immediately shutting the door behind him.
"Home at last..."
what lay before him was a vast dimly lit living room, with an elongated dining table sitting sideways at its centre.
To the left, was a cobblestone fireplace stood, a pile of wood stacked beside it. Further left on the wall, a grand mirror with a gold frame was mounted high along it.
Seeing the dying embers, he hanged up his hat and suit jacket.
Threw in some firewood.
The flames roaring to life, illuminating the entire room, in a warm light.
Turning around, he tossed his monocle onto the table, revealing weary eyes yet a joyous grin.
"i must get work now!"he declared, excitement brimming in his voice.
He grabbed a golden candleholder in one hand and held his leather satchel in the other, he strode toward the spiral staircase.
Taking the path downward, he descended into darkness. The deeper he went, the colder it became until pitch-black engulfed him.
Snap.
A flick of his fingers conjured a tiny burst of fire, which he used to light the candle.
The dim glow revealed the stone walls around him. He turned, back facing and reciting in a low voice,
"Abyssal door, I call on thee... open for me."
A magic circle glowed ominously in a deep purple beneath his feet and within moments, he vanished.
He reappeared in a narrow, cobblestone corridor.
Walking forward, he soon reached a sharp turn, entering a wide chamber. To his right sat a stone desk cluttered with sacrificial tools—among them, a gold-hilted dagger and a large velvet book embedded with a glowing purple sapphire. To his left, a solid stone wall.....
Straight ahead, a small staircase led up to a grand sacrificial altar.
The entire room pulsed with an eerie, luminous glow, a deep purple hue casting long shadows. The air was heavy, almost suffocating.
But to him, this was home.
"Tonight may be the night I finally see you, Mistress."
Approaching the desk, he placed the candle down and turned toward the altar.
"Magic bag, bring me my dead body."
Silence. Nothing happened.
Puzzled, he muttered, "Huh...? I thought-"
His breath hitched.
"Is it not dead?!"
Eyes widening, he barked, "Magic bag, take my most recent item!"
Zip.
The boy appeared atop the altar. The man rushed forward, pressing two fingers to the child's throat.
A pulse.
"Breathing... but barely." His voice dropped to a whisper. "That doesn't explain why I couldn't sense his mana earlier."
His expression darkened. "No matter, it changes nothing."
Lifting a bowl of blood from the desk, he muttered, "The last sacrifice should suffice."
He ran his fingers along the Abyssal Book, whispering, "Abyssal book of the Deluxe, heed my plea and open."
The book groaned, its pages parting begrudgingly, as if annoyed.
Flipping through, he found the diagram he sought and carefully replicated the intricate magic circle around the boy using the blood.
Once done, he grinned, his face and hands smeared red.
"Finally."
Grasping the dagger, he ascended the stairs, looming over the boy.
Cold eyes met blank ones.
The flickering candlelight danced across the blade.
Tension thickened.
"Sorry you had to experience this... but you're not the first. And you won't be the last."
His face twisted with fervour. Muscles tensed, he raised the dagger high.
"For the Mistress Alana!"
The blade plunged deep into the boy's chest. Blood pooled, his body still.
The man knelt, chanting from the book.
"Oh great Chaos of the Abyss, I bring a vessel for the Dark Saint Alana Renfield, so she may use it as she pleases!"
The altar pulsed violently. The magic circle crackled with energy.
Then
A sudden, overpowering gust surged through the chamber, rattling the walls.
The boy's body lifted, light bursting from his form.
His eyes snapped open. Violet energy spilled from within.
The man's heart pounded.
"A-A-A—" The boy's voice trembled.
Then, he grinned.
"I CAN FEEL."
"I CAN TOUCH."
"I CAN SEE."
And the room trembled beneath him.