[Bond Street – Sector 2]
[The Silent Room]
Just as quickly as the unnatural darkness had swallowed the room, it vanished.
The light returned. The black droplets on the floor evaporated into gray smoke. The room was empty again, save for Lucian, Arthur, and the corpse on the floor.
Arthur sighed, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.
"Sigh... I thought he was brave," Arthur mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "But he isn't. He's just a coward."
Lucian, gripping his cane with white knuckles, scanned the corners of the room. The terror he couldn't feel was replaced by a tense hyper-awareness.
"What is going on?" Lucian demanded. "Where is he right now? Is he gone?"
Arthur looked at Lucian with heavy, half-lidded eyes.
"He is still here," Arthur said lazily. "We just can't see him."
Arthur lifted a hand to his chin, tapping it rhythmically.
"I can hear your thoughts, Luci. 'Why is he still here? What are his powers? Is he dangerous?'" Arthur chuckled softly. "Wow, chill out with the questions."
"Let me give you a history lesson while we wait," Arthur said, his voice unbothered by the invisible threat.
Swish.
Before Lucian could respond, the air behind him rippled.
A tendril of black mist materialized from thin air, forming a jagged spike. It struck Lucian directly in the lower back.
STAB.
"Argh!"
Lucian cried out, stumbling forward. The pain was sharp and cold, like an icicle being driven into his spine. He hadn't even seen it coming. He was a Tier 1; his senses were far too slow to track an invisible killer.
He fell to one knee, clutching his side. But as he looked down, a System window flashed red.
[Passive Trait Triggered: Shadow Weave]
[Stitching wounds...]
Lucian watched in amazement as the shadows from his own coat moved. They acted like living thread, pulling his torn skin back together. The pain vanished instantly, leaving only a dull throb.
"Oh?" Arthur glanced at Lucian, then at the empty space behind him. "Pretty intelligent."
He spoke to the empty air as if scolding a bad dog.
"He realized he couldn't hit me, so he went for the rookie. Just a second, Mr. Killer, I am trying to teach my student. Don't be rude."
"Shit..." Lucian muttered, standing up and checking his back. "It almost got me."
"Okay, let's make this super fast," Arthur yawned, leaning against a rotting wall.
"We have three Seas. The Sapphire Expanse (Normal). The Crimson Sea (Red/Mutated). And the Dead Sea (Black/Spiritual)."
Arthur gestured vaguely around the room.
"The power radiating from this killer? It's from the Dead Sea."
"History says that beneath the Dead Sea, something cracked deep in the earth. Spirits didn't just rise; Devils crawled out. They walked on real land for the first time."
Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly.
"So, what I mean is... this killer belongs to the Devil Sequence. I don't know his Tier, but he feeds on Fear to complete his advancement."
"Oh... wow," Lucian thought, his sarcasm masking his tension. "That was pretty helpful, Mr. Art. Thanks for the lore drop while I'm being used as a pincushion."
Suddenly, the temperature in the room plummeted.
Frost began to creep across the floorboards. The black mist returned, thicker this time. It surged toward Arthur first—but halfway there, it swerved violently.
It was instinct. Even a mindless killer sensed that Arthur was the Apex Predator. It didn't dare touch him.
So, it turned its hunger toward Lucian.
The black mass lunged.
"Not this time," Lucian snarled.
He was ready. He channeled his Ether. His eyes glowed with a faint, regal light.
[Active Skill: King's Aura]
A wave of red Ether exploded from Lucian's body, a command of absolute dominance. He opened his mouth and shouted the Word of Power.
"STOP!"
The command echoed in the small room.
For a second, the world went quiet. The red Ether rushed toward the black mist, intending to crush it into the floor.
Swoosh.
Nothing happened.
The red aura passed harmlessly through the black mist like wind through smoke. The Devil didn't have a physical form to crush. The gap in their Tiers was too wide.
"Shit... not again," Lucian whispered.
The black shadow consumed him.
Lucian closed his eyes and threw his hands up to cover his face, bracing for the impact.
Silence.
Lucian slowly opened his eyes.
He wasn't in the apartment anymore. He wasn't with Arthur.
He was standing in a long, cold hallway with peeling gray paint. The smell of boiled cabbage and mildew hung in the air.
"What...?"
Lucian spun around. He knew this place.
[The Broken Home Orphanage]
"Why am I here?" Lucian breathed, his heart beginning to race. "Was the Guild... the power... the War... was all of it a dream?"
Is this an illusion?
"I have the Sin of Pride!" he shouted at the empty hallway. "I should be immune to mental corruption!"
Unless... unless he is stronger than the System's protection?
The realization hit him like a physical blow. The illusion shifted violently.
The hallway dissolved into white.
[The Crucible – The Frozen Wasteland]
Snow lashed against his face. The wind howled.
Lucian looked down. His hand—his right hand—was gone. Fresh blood sprayed onto the white snow.
"AHHHH!"
He screamed, clutching the stump. The pain was blinding. It felt real. Too real.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He looked up. The monster from his First Trial—the Frost Walker—was charging at him.
Lucian reached for his sword, but his hip was empty. He tried to summon his King's Aura, but he couldn't remember the feeling. He was weak. He was a Zero.
"No... no!"
The monster roared, its claws descending to rip him apart.
"I am messed up," Lucian thought, squeezing his eyes shut as the claws hit his face.
Blink.
Lucian gasped, his eyes snapping open.
He was sweating profusely, his chest heaving as he sucked in air.
The snow was gone. The orphanage was gone. He was back in the rotting apartment in Bond Street.
He looked around frantically.
Standing in the center of the room was Arthur.
The sleepy man was smiling slightly. His hands were raised, gripping something invisible in the air—or rather, gripping something that was becoming visible.
Arthur's fingers were clamped around two black, clawed wrists. Slowly, the camouflage faded, revealing the creature.
It was a humanoid figure made of shadows, with glowing white eyes and a mouth stitched shut. It struggled against Arthur's grip, but the "Dreamless" man held it with terrifying ease.
Arthur looked at the panting Lucian and winked.
"Oh, look, Lucian," Arthur drawled, shaking the struggling monster like a ragdoll. "I got a present for you."