The shoreline stretched endlessly under a star-filled night.
No moon hung in the sky tonight. Only countless stars scattered across the dark canvas, some burning bright white, others glowing soft blue or distant red, like distant embers of forgotten worlds. The ocean breathed steadily, waves rolling in with gentle crashes against the dark sand, their foam glowing faintly under the starlight. A cool, salty breeze swept across the shore, carrying the clean scent of open water and wet stone. The sound was constant — rhythmic, soothing, like the heartbeat of the world itself.
Indura stood in the shallow water, the cool waves lapping gently at his knees. He had been here for a long time. The water felt good against his skin, grounding him. He reached down, cupped a handful, and brought it to his lips. It was cold, slightly brackish, and he let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. The taste of the sea settled something restless inside him.
He liked this place. The endless stretch of water, the steady rhythm of the waves, the cold breeze brushing against his face. It felt… peaceful. Simple. A far cry from the chaos he had left behind.
He gazed up at the stars, tracing their patterns with his eyes. So many colors. So many lights. He turned his head slowly, searching the sky for the moon, but it was absent tonight. Only stars.
A long, deep sigh escaped him.
He stepped back onto the shore. A gentle wave of mana rolled over his clothes, drying them instantly in a soft, warm breeze. He stopped at the edge of the water, turning once more to look out at the vast ocean. His golden eyes narrowed, vision extending far beyond the visible horizon — past the rolling waves, over distant hills and valleys, watching beasts and monsters move through the night in their own quiet lives.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, a voice drifted through the air behind him.
"I never thought you would be one to stand in peace."
Indura turned slowly.
Sabrel stood a short distance away. Her armor was dissolving into motes of light, revealing a simple, flowing white dress that caught the starlight like fresh snow. Her long white hair swayed gently in the breeze. Her white eyes regarded him with quiet curiosity.
She walked closer without hurry and stopped beside him, turning her gaze out toward the dark ocean.
Indura turned his head away, but his eyes kept flicking back to her in short, uncertain glances.
Ah… my so-called sister.
The thought felt strange in his mind. Standing next to her felt… odd. Not hostile. Not comforting. Just… awkward. Like two pieces that should fit but didn't quite know how.
He turned his gaze back to the ocean.
They stood side by side in silence. The waves continued their steady rhythm, crashing softly against the shore. The wind whispered between them, carrying the salt of the sea. Neither spoke. The stars watched overhead.
Indura glanced at her again. Sabrel was already looking at him.
Their eyes met for a split second. Both immediately turned away, almost comically fast.
Indura's face remained calm on the surface, but inside his mind was a whirlwind.
This isn't any better than what happened with Vespera. Why isn't she lashing out? She tried to kill me back in the Sanctum. Now she's just… standing here?
He closed his eyes briefly, still facing the ocean.
If she tries anything, I'll overpower her and leave. Yes… That's the sufficient path... I would be able to flee.
He opened his eyes again, staring at the crashing waves.
No one spoke.
The silence stretched. Seconds became minutes. The only sounds were the waves and the wind.
Indura's veins showed faintly on his neck and temple, despite his outwardly calm expression.
…This is fine. Perfectly fine.
Sabrel smiled softly beside him, her white hair swaying in the breeze.
So this is the other soul of my brother, she thought. Still my brother, yet... Calm. No killing intent. Much more… peaceful.
She peeked at his side profile again.
He looks… different. Not the tyrant I remember... but brighter!
Her smile widened slightly.
Maybe this time… it won't be so bad.
The waves kept rolling in.
Indura finally took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs, and exhaled slowly.
He folded his arms across his chest, staring out at the dark ocean. The awkward silence between him and Sabrel had stretched long enough. He opened his mouth to speak first.
But Sabrel spoke before he could.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "For how I lashed out at you in the Sanctum."
Indura froze.
Sabrel continued, her white eyes fixed on the waves.
"I understand now how confused you must have been when we met. It's all clear to me."
Indura forced a small smile, but inside his mind was a whirlwind.
Clear?!... She literally tried to kill me. I felt all that bloodlust… and now she understands?
Sabrel kept speaking, voice steady.
"I was told everything about you and... your situation. I will not harbor any ill will toward you."
Indura glanced at her sideways.
Hhmm... She has her own story, too. The True Self must have done something terrible to her as well... Well of course he did.
Silence settled again, broken only by the steady crash of waves against the shore.
Then Sabrel spoke once more.
"I'm no longer weak when you beat me up."
"…"
Indura looked stunned.
Sabrel continued, almost matter-of-factly.
"I'm not weak."
Indura's eyes turned sideways again.
Why is she telling me this?
Then the memory hit him. He smiled faintly, remembering his own words during their fight in the Sanctum.
Ah… I remember. I called her weak when I... beat her down... Did I overdo it?!... No... No, I do not think so.
Sabrel kept going.
"I'm not weak."
Indura finally spoke, voice calm.
"I understand."
A massive wave crashed against the rocky shore, the sound echoing past them like thunder rolling over stone. White foam sprayed high into the air before falling back into the dark sea.
They remained quiet.
Sabrel spoke again.
"I was informed about what we have to do. About what is in this world that needs to be taken care of… and what we need to look for."
Indura glanced at her.
She continued.
"If we need to start looking for the Legion, we should begin from the Silent Plains."
Silent Plains?! Indura thought.
Sabrel went on.
"I don't know much about it, but I do know someone close to you lives there. One of the Silent Hands of the Dragon King. A servant of the past."
Indura looked at her, processing the words.
A servant! It looks like the next direction has been decided.
He turned his gaze back to the waves.
"Our enemy is... strong."
"..."
"Do you think you can win?"
There was another long silence. Indura tilted his head, trying to process Sabrel's questions.
Can I win?... Of course I can. Perfection can never lose.
He finally spoke, voice calm and steady.
"It would be better to see when we finally face them. It would be foolish to admit victory before facing them.
Sabrel smiled.
"Then it is all well."
"I agree."
"When do we leave?"
Indura was quiet for a moment.
"Right now is best."
Another wave crashed against the stone, then another, and another. In the distance, sea monsters burst from the dark water — long, graceful bodies looping and twisting around each other in a mesmerizing dance under the starlight. Their scales caught the faint glow of the stars, shimmering like living constellations.
Both Indura and Sabrel watched in quiet awe. For a moment, their faces softened. They had never seen anything quite like it.
Maybe... just maybe... a few more minutes wouldn't hurt… yes.
He continued the thought.
Now that I think about it… where is Shadow?
-------------------
Somewhere far beyond the known lands of Chaos, past jagged mountain ranges that clawed at the sky like broken claws, beyond vast emerald forests that whispered secrets older than the stars, across shimmering lakes that mirrored the blood-red heavens like liquid mirrors, and over endless rolling valleys where ancient beasts roamed beneath the eternal twilight, a colossal continent drifted silently through the upper atmosphere.
It was a marvel of impossible scale — an entire floating landmass suspended in the void, its underside shrouded in perpetual mist and countless cascading waterfalls that poured endlessly into the clouds far below. Ancient, gnarled trees clung desperately to its jagged edges, their roots dangling like veins into nothingness. Rivers carved silver paths across its surface before spilling over the sides in majestic, thundering curtains of water that never seemed to reach the ground. The air here was thin and crisp, carrying the faint, electric scent of high altitude and distant lightning.
At the very edge of this drifting continent, a solitary figure sat perched on a weathered boulder overlooking one of the great waterfalls. The water roared endlessly beside him, plunging into the abyss in a white curtain that vanished into thick clouds far beneath.
Shadow.
He sat with his face resting in his palms, dark cloak draped loosely around his shoulders like a second skin. The wind howled past, tugging at the edges of his cloak, carrying the clean, sharp scent of high-altitude air and distant rain.
Then… he snapped awake.
His eyes widened and narrowed in quick succession. He turned his head slowly, scanning the surroundings. Dense, ancient forests stretched behind him, a silver river winding through them like a vein of moonlight. The world below — vast continents, endless oceans, and the red skies of Chaos — lay far beneath the drifting landmass, partially obscured by layers of clouds.
Shadow had crossed hills, mountains, lakes, rivers, and forests for what felt like days, moving with no clear direction. Now he sat peacefully at the edge, still unaware of exactly where he was. He only knew he was on a floating continent — but which region it belonged to remained a mystery.
He rose to his feet and stretched with everything he had, powerful shoulders rolling, joints popping audibly in the thin air. The wind whipped around him, cool and invigorating, tugging at his cloak.
He looked up at the night sky. Here, high above the world, one of Chaos's many moons hung visible — a pale silver orb glowing softly against the crimson backdrop, its craters sharp and clear like scars from ancient wars.
Has the night always been this beautiful?
Shadow closed his eyes for a moment.
The war must be over by now.
He opened his eyes again. His form shimmered, collapsing into a swirling mass of living darkness before reforming.
A massive dark horse now stood at the edge of the continent. Its body was sleek and powerfully muscled, an obsidian coat that seemed to drink in the starlight and reflect it as faint silver veins. Eight glowing silver eyes dotted its head and neck, each turning independently, scanning every direction at once with unnerving intelligence. Four massive, shadowy wings unfurled from its back, edges flickering like living smoke, veins of silver energy pulsing along their membranes. A faint aura of darkness clung to the form, making the air around it feel heavier, colder.
Shadow looked at his reflection in the rushing water of the nearby river. He tilted his head, studying the new shape.
Not quite right.
Dark flames briefly ignited along his neck and spine, flowing like a living mane of shadow, before he dismissed them with a thought.
Better.
He rolled his powerful neck, shook his wings once — the wind reacting violently to the motion — and then leaped off the edge of the waterfall.
He dove straight down alongside the roaring curtain of water, wings tucked tight against his body. The wind screamed past him as he accelerated, plunging through layers of thick clouds and fog. His eight eyes glowed brighter, cutting through the mist like blades of silver light.
Then he spread his wings.
The sound barrier shattered with a deafening crack that echoed across the sky. He shot forward in a blazing streak of black and silver, tearing through the red night like a shadow given form and purpose. The floating continent grew smaller and smaller behind him as he descended toward the world below.
The wind howled in his ears. The stars blurred into streaks of light.
Shadow flew on, searching.
Great dragon... I know you hide your presence, but... I will find you.
--------------------
While the south recovered under divine wrath, far beyond the red skies and shattered lands, silence reigned in a place untouched by mortal eyes.
A vast, desolate expanse stretched under a bruised, starless sky. The ground was black obsidian that seemed to drink in all light, cracked and veined with faint, pulsing purple energy. The air itself shifted and warped, as if reality struggled to maintain its shape. An insect — a small desert beetle that had wandered too far — crossed an invisible boundary. The moment it did, its body withered in seconds: wings crumbling to dust, exoskeleton cracking, life drained away until nothing remained but a tiny husk that dissolved into the wind.
At the center of this domain stood a dark fortress.
It rose like a monument to oblivion — towering spires of blackened stone and living shadow, twisting upward in impossible geometries. No banners flew. No lights shone from its windows. The clouds above it were a deep, churning purple, pierced by a single, perfect hole that revealed nothing but endless void.
Inside the fortress, within its grandest hall, the atmosphere was even heavier.
The chamber was enormous, its ceiling lost in darkness high above, adorned with slowly rotating constellations of faint, dying lights that resembled trapped stars. There was no floor. Only seven massive pillars rose from the abyss below, each supporting a grand, throne-like seat arranged in a perfect circle. The air was cold, thick, and alive with subtle distortion — whispers of forgotten screams echoed faintly at the edge of hearing.
Six seats stood empty.
On the seventh sat a lone figure.
A feminine silhouette, elegant yet predatory, with long flowing hair that seemed to drink in the surrounding darkness. Her purple and golden eyes glowed softly, cutting through the gloom like twin blades. She rested her cheek on her palm, legs crossed, exuding an aura of absolute, ancient authority. The space around her constantly warped and rippled, as if the realm itself bowed in her presence.
She sighed softly.
The south..., she thought, a faint smile playing on her lips. My little puppets… swallowed into the void of space. How curious. The Asura is gone too!
A subtle memory stirred in her mind.
She saw herself broken on the ground, looking up at a towering figure with sharp golden eyes. The sheer irritation of having her pride looked down upon still lingered after all this time.
She straightened slightly in her seat.
It has been ten years since that day. I know he is here… yet I have not sensed even a trace of that monstrous power. Is he that good at hiding? Or has something changed?
She looked up at the ceiling — an endless vortex of swirling darkness and faint, shattered constellations that seemed to watch her in return.
That man… he reminded me of someone we regarded as our enemy. A silhouette with those same sharp golden eyes… Was it merely a coincidence?
She rose gracefully from her seat, stepping forward onto nothing. She walked on air as though an invisible floor existed beneath her feet, each step sending faint ripples through the distorted space.
Perhaps it is time for me to move.
A calm voice suddenly interrupted from one of the empty seats.
"Why the sudden rush... Disciple of Darkness?"
The woman turned slowly.
There, seated casually in what had been an empty throne, was Astrath. Long crimson hair flowed down his back, glowing faintly with inner power. His white eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. He wore flowing, heavenly robes of white and gold that seemed woven from starlight itself, elegant yet imposing, radiating an aura that felt both ancient and effortless.
The woman stared at him for a moment, then smiled.
"And what brings the Hand of Fate into my fortress?"
Astrath leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other.
"A conversation, perhaps."
The woman studied him carefully.
"About what?"
Astrath's white eyes seemed to glow beneath the darkness.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he smiled.
"About the mistake Dark Haven made, three thousand years ago."
The smile slowly disappeared from her face.
The wind outside the fortress died.
"You found him!"
Astrath said nothing. He simply continued smiling.