Asteria stepped out of the Cathedral, her mind still heavy with the weight of the mask in her soul. She wandered through the glass district, her eyes darting between the shimmering ruins, until she saw it.
Standing in the grand plaza was a figure that made the previous creatures look like pebbles in comparison.
The figure froze the breath in her lungs.
It was a guardian of smoky, dark glass, its form polished to a mirror sheen. It wasn't frozen in a scream; it was active. Asteria watched from the shadows of a pillar as the giant moved towards a row of crystal columns. With a slow, tectonic type of grace, it sank to one knee, driving its sword into the ground and bowing its head as if in deep, ancient worship.
Asteria's breath hitched. The pressure radiating from the creature was immense — more than anything she has ever felt before. 'Awakened? It can't be...' Her eyes widening when it dawned on her. 'Fallen?' A rank that could turn her to dust just by it breathing on her.
Then, the statue's head tilted.
It rose from its knees in one fluid motion and turned — picking up the sword from the stone and placing it at its hip. It didn't roar nor did it charge. It simply began walking towards her with the grace of someone who knew the opponent was fearful. The statue's footsteps were silent on the glass pavement. Asteria was paralyzed; the Queen the Spell made her out to be was suddenly just a girl, her blood running cold and her legs feeling like lead.
But as it reached her, it stopped. It didn't draw its weapon. Instead, the giant lowered its head in a slow, subservient nod, then turned and gestured towards the shadows behind the villas. It took a few steps, stopped, then looked back at her.
'What. The.Spell?!' Asteria's panic flared. 'Is it... asking me to follow? Am I being led to a slaughterhouse? Oh, Damnation, do I even have a choice?!'
Driven by a terrifying curiosity, she followed.
The guardian led her to the edge of the district, behind a row of crumbling glass villas. There, hidden beneath a canopy of shattered crystal was a heavy glass door stood half-buried in the sand, leading down into a weighted darkness.
'This is actually a horror movie,' She thought, her heart hammering. 'I'm going to die. Can I at least write a will first!?'
Downstairs, through the shards of broken glass and a suffocating darkness, they reached a chamber lit by a singular, vertical pillar of frozen white light.
In the center was an altar. The statue stepped towards the stone, took its weapon and thrust it into the ground next to Asteria with a final, resonant thud.
Then, the creature walked onto the platform of the altar and knelt, bowing its head and baring its neck as if awaiting punishment.
She stared at the weapon. It was a Jian — a double-edged straight sword of exquisite, alien design. The blade looked like it was crafted from starlight. The hilt wrapped in a material like felt like silk but shimmered like glass and the pommel was shaped like a weeping eye. Most notably, a thin, crimson vein ran perfectly down the translucent blade, pulsing with a faint light as if it were a living artery.
Asteria was bewildered. "Is this... a joke? Are you asking me to kill you? With your own sword?"
It was a twisted sense of horror — or perhaps a penance she couldn't comprehend. She moved towards the weapon, her hands shaking. "Do you want me to use this?" She whispered.
The statue raised its head, looking first at the Jian in the ground, then at a mural on the back wall. The mural depicted a grand sacrifice: a thousand glass figures shattering themselves so that a single light could remain. Then, the guardian looked down at the floor once more.
Judgement was hers to deliver.
She reached for the hilt. It wouldn't budge. It felt like it was part of the planet itself, weighing a million tonnes. She strained until her muscles burned, but the weapon remained rooted in the stone.
Suddenly, a bubble felt like it was bursting in her chest. White sparks erupted in front of her face, blinding her for a heartbeat. Without her command, the [Mask of Glass] manifested and latched onto her face.
The world inverted.
Through the mask, the darkness of the cellar became a vibrant reflection, almost mesmerizing — addicting. The pillar of light turned violet, and the Jian... the Jian began to glow with a blinding, beautiful and incandescent radiance. It wasn't just a sword, it was art.
She reached out again. This time, when her hand touched the hilt, the weight vanished. The sword slid out of the stone as if it were being drawn through water. It felt as light as a feather, humming in her hand like a living bird.
"I am... so confused," she breathed, the mask's cold surface pressing against her skin.
But she couldn't stop now. She raised the starlight blade, the crimson vein in the center glowing bright red. She looked at the kneeling creature; the creature that could've killed her with a thought. The creature serving a dead world — and swung.
CRACK.
The moment the Jian made contact with the statue's neck, the world around her seemed to shatter. The guardian disintegrated into a billion shards of smoky glass, and in the same instant, the blade exploded in her hand, it starlight essence dissipating into the freezing air.
The shockwave knocked Asteria back, her ears ringing as the silence of the tomb rushed back in while the Spell whispered in her ear.
[You have slain a Fallen Devil: Statue of the Final Guardianship.]
Asteria gasped for air, her hands empty and trembling. "Hah... something that strong... it fell in one strike. What was that sword?"
The Spell's voice, cold and detached but annoyingly familiar continued, louder than ever before.
[You have received a memory.]