There was once a hero named Shenric of the Qiren Clan, slayer of a hundred Faceless Soldiers. He had fought until his body broke, until even his legend ran dry, and still, it wasn't enough.
Because today, the hero would die, and the monster would finally awaken.
"They are coming!"
"They are coming!"
"The Faceless Ones are coming!"
Panic tore through the Eastern Village of the Lowland Realm, a remote settlement buried deep within the Noctis mountains. Here, one of the last low-tier Shadow Clans had gathered, filled with warriors who still dared to oppose the secret hierarchy imposed by the Distant Lords, and dared plot a future without them, or without any Lords. For months they had planned their next strike. They were waited for a chance, but it never came.
But tonight, their lifelong days of arguments and delusions had melted. The enemy they dreamed of had come, and now it it had finally caught them.
A red glow rose through the mountain haze. At the peak of the highest ridge, in the glow of the red sun, a procession of shadows advanced. The resistors watched and they knew that the light of their lives now began to set.
The Faceless Soldiers arose from the red of the sunlight.
"There is a passage to the mountains where we can meet the old man." said Brother Renshu. "We need to leave now!"
"I will not run." Shenric answered.
"Don't be stupid, Brother." said Jinvar. "They have come here to kill you specifically, for all the things you have taught us! If anyone must survive then it has to be you. We have to run!"
"They can track us." replied Shenric. "Even if we flee, they'll hunt us down. But there are things beyond life and death. I have taught you that. And if there has ever been a place to die… it is here."
Flames erupted across the village as ranged attacks rained down from the surrounding slopes. This was always their method: encircle, suffocate from afar, then advance to exterminate whatever remained. Few resistance settlements had ever survived such an assault.
"Please… don't do this." said Jinvar.
"I said I'm staying!" Shenric shouted. "Now, who's with me?"
"I suppose, for one last time, I am with you, Brother Shenric." said Renshu.
"And I am with you!"
"And I am with you!"
Jinvar looked down.
"Very well," he said. "Then I am also with you."
The cries multiplied until they became a roaring chorus. Axiom energy was summoned as the remaining hundred resistance fighters took their positions.
"We can't defeat them head-on." said Renshu.
"I know that." Shenric answered.
"Then what do we do?"
Shenric stared into the distance and activated his Eyes of Focus. Energy patterns unfolded before him, revealing the currents of power that defined each being on the battlefield. Among the advancing soldiers, one presence stood apart.
It was the leader.
"I have a plan," he said.
"Really?" said Jinvar.
"Yes."
"I have faith in you, Brother Shenric."
"So do I." said Renshu.
"Good. I am glad."
He did not have the strength to tell his brothers that this plan required everyone to die.
And so, the battle began.
The Faceless Soldiers advanced. Axiom blades hummed with condensed energy. The Shadow Clan responded with Flow attacks, creating dense clouds of smoke, obscuring sightlines and buying seconds. This was only a distraction. Hidden corridors beneath the village allowed the resistance to strike from unexpected angles with lightning attacks, their one remaining advantage.
But the Soldiers adapted quickly.
"It's not working! They're too fast!" cried Renshu. "Damn it! Fall back, we need to—"
He was cut down mid-sentence, an Axiom blade of energy piercing his throat. He collapsed without a sound.
And in one instant, the first wave was annihilated.
In the chaos, the screams, the madness, only one man truly fought like the masters of old, and that was Shenric. In his hundred years of life, he had studied the Faceless Soldiers more than anyone alive. He knew the art of war when it came to them and their method of combat. Evert warrior had a rhythm. When the rhythm broke, even a monster with speed beyond comprehension could not stop an attack that it was unprepared for and this was the secret of Shenric that allowed him to slay many foes that were beyond him.
But even then, he knew they could not force back the death that was in front of them.
He knew it. The lightning strikes would not work. The second wave would fall just as surely as the first.
No one here had the potential to resist a full force of Faceless Soldiers. The Watchers ensured that. Any child with promise in their Axiom levels was taken long before adulthood, and reforged into obedient weapons.
Shenric knew they were all going to die. He was approaching the final step of his plan.
"Shenric," a voice called from within the smoke.
It was the leader.
"Who speaks to me now?" Shenric asked.
"I am a servant of the Far Away Lords."
"But is there a soul behind that voice? Or only an echo?"
"You know why you must die. By violating the Divine Law spoken by the Prophets, you have forged an alliance against the hierarchies of the Masters. For this, you will all perish."
"It's curious," Shenric replied. "You call us enemies, yet you allowed us to exist. You watched us from the beginning. Why is that?"
"This is the way of the Watchers, of the Lords. Kill the rebels in secret, and more will rise. Slaughter them in glorious battle, and their spirits are broken."
Shenric nodded slowly. "Then this place… it's a summoning ground. The energy of our deaths will feed the Lords."
"That is not for us to know."
The leader struck with an Axiom blade.
Shenric dodged by instinct alone, unable to see the blade yet knowing its timing. He activated Drunken Rhythm, a Flow technique that made his movements become erratic, untraceable, almost unreal.
"So this is your secret?"
"No," Shenric said calmly. "Not quite."
No matter how hard he fought, he could not change the passage of time and the end that was now approaching.
Shenric wielded many Flow techniques that enhanced his Axiom energy, but they were crude compared to the refined legacy of the Faceless Soldiers, a thousand-year lineage of power passed down through the Lords. Slowly, inevitably, the leader began to land blows.
"You have lasted longer than expected," the leader said. "It is impressive how well you have done, considering your limited Axiom source. But your body is old. You are fading."
"Perhaps," Shenric replied. "We shall see."
"The Lords will be pleased to hear that the hero of your rebellion has fallen."
"Our hero," Shenric said, "Has not yet arrived."
Their final exchange began.
Axiom energy clashed in a single instant. The leader feinted forward, then his body floated back into the air by itself, drawing out Shenric's strike... and he countered.
"This is the Pendulum Blade," Shenric whispered as the Leader's blade was pulled out of his body. "An onslaught of constant attacks in momentum with built in defence. What terrifying violence."
"It is over. Tell me where your remaining allies hide, and I will grant you a painless death."
Shenric smiled.
"Very well."
The leader raised his Axiom blade.
"You have fallen for my trap," Shenric said. "I give you my final gift. Take it. The Eye of Sophia."
A burst of rainbow light erupted from Shenric's chest and struck the leader head-on. For a heartbeat, the leader staggered in shock. Then Shenric's head was severed in a single clean arc.
The battle ended soon after. Smoke thinned. Flames died. The resistance was wiped out to the last.
The leader stood amid the carnage and watched with empty eyes. This is how it had always been. This is how it always would be.
Suddenly, he gasped.
A shard of red electricity tore through his senses. He clutched his chest and almost vomited from the agony.
Was this his passing into death? Or rather, was this was a new reality?
Behind the mask, there had always been nothing. No face. No light. No self. That had been stripped away during training.
But now two eyes opened up in the darkness. Then came a mouth. Then a nose. Then cheeks. Then ears.
A human face appeared.
The leader was gone now. Someone else stood behind the mask.
"Where am I?"
It was the first time he had been awake in a very long time.
"What am I doing here?"
A soldier approached from behind.
"So it's done," the soldier said. "Shenric died a fool, like the rest. A shame he didn't lead us to the Higher Shadow Clans."
This was all out of place, out of tune, an abomination of reality.
"Leader?" the soldier asked.
"I'm not supposed to be here," the man said. "I'm supposed to be far, far away from this horrible place."
"Are you in need of repair, Leader?"
"Don't call me that, you... I am not any kind of leader to you!"
"You are the Faceless Leader of the East."
"No," he said. "I don't know who I am. Who am I? WHO AM I? GET AWAY FROM ME!"
He drove his blade through the soldier's heart and ran into the mountains. When the remaining Faceless Soldiers regrouped, their leader was gone.
Only an empty mask lay on the ground of the Eastern ruins.