The air quivered, cracking and popping, as though reality itself had been stretched too thin.
In the endless hall of fractured light, a servant knelt. His hands trembled as he fought to keep the distortion of space from breaking apart. His voice was thin.
"Master… the worlds can't be held apart any longer."
The master stood motionless, eyes fixed on the rift where two realms pressed together like colliding tides. At last, he exhaled.
"I know. The merging can't be stopped. All that's left is to see if the lower worlds survive."
He opened his palm. The distorted space shattered, light consuming all.
And then—
John woke with a jolt.
His heart pounded. His sheets were damp with sweat. The echo of that voice—heavy, sorrowful—still rang in his head.
A dream. It had to be.
He sat on the edge of his bed, palms pressed to his face, waiting for calm. It didn't come.
Pale morning light crept across the floorboards. His room smelled faintly of paper and steel. Books littered his desk in a half-finished sprawl.
But his eyes weren't drawn to the clutter.
They found the sword.
It hung above the desk, as it always had. A black scabbard etched with faint silver lines that twisted when you stared too long. A hilt bound in worn blue leather.
The moment his gaze lingered, words surfaced in the air.
—[Item Appraisal]—
Eclipse Fang
Relic Blade. Forged when realms first clashed. Bound to one marked by the merging. Awoken when the veil shatters.
The text dissolved. The room was silent again.
John's breath hitched. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, forced out a weak laugh.
"No. I'm tired. Hallucinating. That's all."
But his gaze wouldn't leave the blade.
Then—
A scream split the morning.
John stumbled to the window.
The street below was fire and chaos. People ran. Shadows moved between the flames, fast and inhuman.
And from the smoke, a beast emerged.
Low, muscular, glowing like cracked stone over magma. Fire leaked through its hide. Molten eyes burned into the woman it stalked. She tripped. It lunged.
Then its gaze snapped upward—straight at John.
He ducked below the sill, chest hammering, hand clamped over his mouth. Heat bled into his room. The screams outside grew louder.
Fear took hold.