The city was darker than usual that night, the neon reflections fractured in puddles like scattered glass. Mohamed moved through the streets, heart pounding, senses alert. He had survived his first real mission, faced a corrupted figure from his memories, and endured Ryoto's manipulations—but nothing had prepared him for the strange sensation gnawing at the edge of his mind.
Something… bigger… is watching.
Selene followed silently, her violet eyes scanning every shadow. "You feel it," she said softly. "Faromet's influence reaches farther than you realize. Even here, even now, fragments of his presence bleed into the city. His memory corruption touches everything the Eclipse Order controls."
Mohamed swallowed hard. "He… he's real?"
Selene's lips curved faintly. "More real than anything you have faced. And more dangerous. But tonight is not the time to confront him directly. Tonight… is your first test against chaos in the open world."
They reached a deserted square. Broken streetlights flickered, their hum low and ominous. Shadows moved unnaturally along the edges of walls and alleys, coalescing into humanoid forms—agents of the Eclipse Order, no longer testing him but actively hunting.
Mohamed gritted his teeth. He raised his hands, summoning fragments of memory energy: rooftops, alleyways, old streets from his childhood. They formed into glowing constructs—barriers, weapons, and illusions designed to mislead his enemies.
Focus. Anchor yourself. Every fragment matters.
The first wave struck. Shadows lunged like living blades, weaving around the memory projections. Mohamed moved instinctively, ducking and weaving, calling forth more memories: flashes of battlefields, spectral warriors formed from remembered struggles, streets twisting and bending to his will.
But the shadows reacted differently this time. They moved as if anticipating his every action, avoiding traps and countering with surgical precision. Mohamed faltered. How…?
Selene's voice cut sharply through his thoughts: "The influence is here. Faromet's presence isn't direct—but his control over the Order allows them to anticipate your moves. You must act unpredictably. Break your patterns."
Mohamed closed his eyes, recalling a fragment he had never tried before: a memory not entirely his own, a vision of streets twisted by fire and shadow, populated by spectral figures screaming in anguish. He merged it with his own memories, letting chaos bloom in controlled bursts.
Reality bent under his will. The shadows struck blindly, colliding with phantom streets, falling into traps that weren't there moments before. For the first time, Mohamed felt a rush of exhilaration—a taste of raw power, tempered by control.
I am shaping reality… not just reacting.
Then a sound sliced through the chaos: a low, resonant laughter that made the air itself vibrate. Mohamed's blood ran cold. The shadows around him froze, hissing like a warning.
"Do you feel it?" Selene whispered, eyes narrowing. "That presence… it's him. Faromet."
A chill swept through Mohamed's body. Even unseen, Faromet's aura pressed against his mind, probing, whispering, testing. Memories he had anchored flared unpredictably, fragments twisting into visions of fire, darkness, and destruction.
He's inside my mind… even here… even now…
The corrupted figure from his past—the one he had faced in the alleys—emerged from the shadows, their form flickering between human and monstrous. "You're growing stronger," they said, voice cold. "But the chaos you wield is only a fraction of what awaits. And he… he is watching."
Mohamed gritted his teeth, summoning every fragment he had controlled. Light flared, forming walls, spears, and illusions that twisted the environment around him. Shadows screamed as they collided with his memory constructs, dissolving into fragments of light.
I can do this… I must control it…
The battle raged, street against memory, shadow against will, and through it all, Mohamed felt the subtle tug of Faromet's influence: a whisper in his mind, a pull at his memory fragments, a temptation to surrender to chaos for power beyond comprehension.
No… I control this. I am not him… I will not fall.
The corrupted figure recoiled under the intensity of his control, but a cruel smile lingered. "This is only the beginning, Mohamed. The true test… comes when you face the hand that moves all shadows."
Mohamed's chest burned, mind straining, but he stood firm. "Then I'll be ready."
As the shadows dissipated, the city returned to silence. Rain dripped from rooftops, puddles reflecting fractured neon and the lingering pulse of memory energy. Mohamed's hands shook, chest heaving, but his eyes burned with determination.
Selene stepped beside him, voice calm but serious. "Tonight, you survived chaos itself. But remember this: Faromet does not need to show himself directly to destroy you. His influence reaches every corner, every agent, every shadow. And he waits… for the moment when your control falters."
Mohamed nodded, swallowing hard. Then I will not falter. I will master this… or die trying.
In the distance, a shadow flickered atop a ruined skyscraper—horned, black and red, watching, waiting. Faromet's presence was subtle but absolute. The war for memories, for control, for reality itself, had only just begun.